Paint Me True (29 page)

Read Paint Me True Online

Authors: E.M. Tippetts

Tags: #lds, #love, #cancer, #latter-day saints, #mormon, #Romance, #chick lit, #BRCA, #art, #painter

BOOK: Paint Me True
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Calm, I told myself. He’d already shut me down. I needed to not let myself get my hopes up just to be dashed again. Tonight he’d had a lapse, and he regretted it. The best thing for me to do was enjoy the popcorn and try not to think of my paints lying out back at home. I wasn’t a fool for trying again, I kept telling myself. It could have turned out differently.

The important thing for me was to handle this like a grown up. I could curl up and cry about it later. As soon as the credits rolled, Len got up. I followed and busied myself with details like tucking my used napkins into my empty popcorn bag and getting into the short line at the garbage can. Len pulled out his phone and frowned at the screen.

“You get called back into work?” I asked.

“No, someone wants to know if I can do a blessing.”

“Oh, okay. I can stay here, or whatever.”

He looked up at me, meeting my eye for the first time that evening. “I’m not leaving you here at ten o’clock at night.”

“Well, I don’t mind. I can walk over to your house if that’s better.” It was only a block and a half away.

“You sure you’re okay with that?”

“Uh-huh.”

He considered that a moment, but I knew what his answer would be. Church duties came first with him. I wiped my hands on my scrunched napkins one last time before I dumped all my trash into the garbage can.

“Okay, this shouldn’t take too long and I’m driving you. I can pick up Chris at the same time.”

I nodded and followed him out of the theater.

He looked at me again. “Thanks.”

I waved that away. He was being ridiculous.

Again he strode ahead to his car and opened the door for me. On the brief drive over I wondered if I’d be able to hold it together once he left me at his empty house. My ability to act like everything was okay in my world was starting to slip.

But I at least held it together as we drove to his house. Chris was stepping out the door, his eyes on his cellphone, his thumb working the keys for a text.

“Hey,” Len called out, “I can go with you.”

“Cool.” He didn’t look up.

I got out of the car and left the door open for Chris, who looked up at me and froze.

“Hi,” I said.

He said nothing.

“Um... is your door locked?” I pointed to the house.

“Yeah, sec.” He unlocked it and handed me the keys.

“Thanks.” I went inside, out of the chill air and into the stillness. The place always smelled like wood varnish. The kitchen was a mess as usual and beyond it was the living room, with one of the gaming consoles out on the floor, a game loaded and a list of saved games on the screen.

As the car pulled out of the driveway, its headlights stretching across the back wall, I cast about for a copy of scriptures or something to keep me busy. There weren’t any books out in the front room. I sat down on the couch, knees together, like I was waiting to be called up for a difficult job interview. I tapped my toes and drummed my fingers on my knees.

I thought about trying to watch television, but I did not understand the six remote controls laid out on the coffee table. I didn’t know how to turn off the gaming console, so I was just stuck staring at a screen that said “New Game” and “Load Saved Game”. I wondered if it was the game I’d bought Len. I hadn’t looked all that closely at the package because I didn’t want to get caught holding it.

As the minutes crept past, I let myself stare at the “New Game” option. There was nothing else for me to do, unless I wanted to wash dishes, which I didn’t. If I tried a new game and didn’t mess with any of their saved games, I wouldn’t disrupt anything.

I slid down onto the floor and picked up a controller. It was like a weapon designed by aliens. I hefted it then turned it over to look at the buttons. I figured out which one to press to start a new game, and much to my relief, I saw that it offered a tutorial on how to use the controls. I loaded that.

The screen popped up a diagram of how to hold the controller, which I copied. Now it felt more natural in my hand, its curve cupped in my palm and buttons and toggles at my fingertips. The next screen had me traveling down a hallway, the view bobbing as if I were running. When I obeyed the instructions to hit buttons and push toggles, different weapons would appear at the bottom of the screen and I’d see my character’s hands arm them, by snapping a clip into a gun or yanking a pin out of a grenade or working the slide on a shotgun.

I had no idea how to shoot or throw a grenade. The game showed me, but I was terrible at it. I’d shoot a line of holes in the wall behind the bad guys and chuck grenades too wide, so that at best, they knocked the baddies over.

And then the tutorial was over. I was playing the game. Great, I thought. I was in another dark hallway. I pivoted around to see my options, but the door behind me was closed, so there was only one way to go. I made it three steps before a baddie jumped out and shot at me. I tried to shoot back but forgot to select a weapon, so I just saw my character’s fists make punching motions while red splashes of blood spurted up from all the gunshot wounds I was getting. The little display of my body armor showed it was compromised. I finally managed to load a grenade and throw it, and for once I hit the target and got to watch dismembered limbs go flying as it detonated.

Gross.

O-kay, I thought. I advanced down the hall and armed myself with a gun. The next time a baddie came after me, I turned down a side hall and ran as fast as I could. More bad guys jumped out of doors and dropped from hatches above me. I just ran until all of my armor was red and then my healthbar went down, and then I died.

So much for that. I looked down at the controller in my hands and admired how quickly I’d gotten used to it. It was well designed. The game asked me if I wanted to try again. I did not, so I put the controller down, brushed my hands off against my sweatpants, and turned around to get up.

Len and Chris were standing behind the couch. I just about jumped out of my skin. “Oh, hi,” I said. “That was fast.”

“Um... no it wasn’t,” said Chris. “It’s been forty minutes.”

I looked at my watch and blinked. Forty minutes really had gone by, but how? I’d only done the tutorial and made one pathetic attempt to play the game. Now I understood how Len could do three hour marathons and not think it was excessive.

“Though, to be honest,” said Len, “we’ve been standing here for the last ten minutes.”

“Why, so you can laugh at me?”

“Hey, did you hear us laugh?” said Chris.

“I didn’t hear you come in, so how do I know?” I got to my feet and folded my arms across my chest, daring them to mock me. I could take it.

Chris just chuckled and headed back to his room. Len smirked. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes, blowing people up and getting gunned down as I run for my life are how I’d choose to spend my time if I get the chance. I find it spiritually uplifting. Perfect way to spend hours and hours on the Sabbath.”

“I don’t normally get gunned down that fast,” said Len.

“And you probably kill more people. Even better.”

He chuckled at that. “Okay... fair enough.”

I shook my head. “I wasn’t actually trying to get you to stop gaming on Sundays-”

But Len had already stepped around the couch and knelt in front of the gaming console. As I watched, he popped out the game and put in another one. Plinky cartoon music played over the speakers and he tossed me the controller again. “See how you do with this one.”

“Is this the one I got you?”

“No.” He took the other controller and sat on the floor beside me.

“Did I get you the shooter one?”

“No.” He laughed. “But they’re very similar to each other, so I can see how you’d get them confused.”

“I risked people’s jobs to get you that game. I didn’t stand around gazing at it. I wrapped it fast.”

“Really,
really
fast. Before you could see the big dragon on the front.”

“Yep.”

He laughed again and hit some buttons on his controller.

This, I soon realized, was a racing game, only I didn’t have the option of a racecar. Rather I was to choose from a bunch of vehicles that looked like they were made to sell ice cream and hot dogs on the street, but before I could make my choice, Len grabbed my controller and selected a little round pink car that looked like something Minnie Mouse would drive.

“Hey,” I said.

He chose something that looked like a Hummer.

“Oh please.”

“Get ready,” he said.

Our cars were parked on the starting line and the lights were flashing from red to yellow to green. The road ahead was straight out of a cartoon. It lifted up off the ground and did loopty loops in the distance. As soon as the lights were green and we gunned our cars, a menagerie of fanciful animals broke loose in our path, some running, some wandering, some standing in the road. It wasn’t easy to maneuver around them and I got taken out by a purple cow within seconds.

Len laughed at me.

I settled my grip on the controller, waited for my car to get put on the road again, and then I chased after him, swerving to avoid animals. Len, I saw, hit a button and jumped his car over them.

Well, that would’ve been nice to know. I followed suit and jumped over a blue dragon as I tried to catch up with him.

“Eat my dust,” he said.

“Dream on.” I was in sight of his car when we did the first loopty loop. The landscape spun around crazily as I kept my car in the middle of the road. Then a canyon opened up in front of me and I hit the button to jump. “Ha!” I said. I was closing in on his car.

“You won’t be able to pass me,” he said. He started to swerve back and forth.

I aimed straight for his car and hit the accelerator. The two vehicles collided with a crash and a gratifying puff of smoke, out of which bounced wheels and pieces of the car bodies.

“Hey!” he said. “What was that for?”

“For giving me a stupid pink car.”

“Oh come on. It’s the prettiest car.”

“I want the Hummer.” I reached for his controller.

“No way.” He held it out of my reach.

“You scared of driving a pink car? You not secure enough in your manhood?”

“What?” He spluttered a laugh.

I made another grab for his controller and he stretched to keep it from me. His other arm went around my waist and I squirmed, assuming that was him trying to hold me back.

He kissed me.

I was so surprised that I dropped my controller. He dropped his and stroked my hair back from my cheek as he kissed me again. I shut my eyes, savoring the touch of his lips on mine. He leaned in for a third, but I pulled back. “If this is just you trying to win the game, you are the biggest jerk on the planet.”

He laughed, but not as readily. “No,” he said. His hand was still on my cheek.

I opened my eyes. “So, is this you just feeling confused, or is this me getting a second chance?” I had to have that answer before I’d surrender to another kiss.

Those pale blue eyes of his searched mine. The seconds ticked by.

He let out a sigh and leaned his forehead against mine. “I’m still not over you.”

“Do you want to be?”

“I don’t know.” He buried his face in my hair.

“Well, decide, okay? Because I’m not over you and if you’re going to go back and forth, I can’t take it.” I tried to get out of his embrace.

His arm tightened around me. “Please,” he said. “I’m sorry. I did this all wrong. Yeah I want to try things again. Of course I do.”

I stopped struggling. “Really?”

He nodded, his cheek brushing against mine. “I’m trying to believe that you’re not just desperate to date the nearest loser-”

“You are not a loser.”

His arm still held me tight, tight enough that I was starting to get a cramp in my side. “I love you,” I whispered.

That made him relax. I settled myself more comfortably, stroked his hair and kissed the nape of his neck.

He inhaled a jerky breath, like a sob.

“I’m sorry,” I told him. “I screwed up and I love you.” I settled him against me and breathed in the musky scent of his skin. His shorter hair felt scratchy against my cheek. “I’ve missed you so much. You’ve got no idea.”

Footsteps in the hallway let me know Chris had emerged again. I ignored them. He’d already seen me make a fool of myself trying to play a first person shooter, and that was infinitely worse than being seen holding the man I loved.

But Len lifted his head. “Get lost,” he hollered.

“O
kay
.” The footsteps retreated.

“Sorry,” said Len.

I just shrugged and leaned in to kiss him. He slipped his hand in mine and he kissed my lips, only this kiss wasn’t like his usual ones. It was deeper and went on far longer. When I broke it off to breathe, he moved on to my neck. “’Kay,” I said. “This could get compromising.”

He paused, his warm breath tickling across my throat. “Really?” There was a note of surprise in his voice.

“Um, yeah.”

He let go of my hand and we just held each other.

 

T
hings weren’t completely resolved with him on the drive home. He still glanced at me nervously, but I managed to catch his gaze and exchange a smile a couple of times. When he walked me to the door I took his hands in mine and stood on tiptoe for a kiss. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said.

“’Kay.”

“Save me a seat?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, okay.”

“And tell those other girls that if they don’t keep their distance, I will scratch their faces.”

“Be nice.”

“Sorry. I love you.” We kissed again and I went inside.

Ten minutes later, as I was washing my face, I got a text from him. “I love you, too.” I slept with my phone under my pillow. It was like being eighteen all over again.

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