Paint Me True (30 page)

T
he next morning in church, I walked up to the front row and sat down next to Len. This time I didn’t feel like I was eighteen all over again. I didn’t gaze at him adoringly or bait him to put his arm around me so that the whole chapel would see he was mine. Couples like that got on my nerves and his. Rather than sit down like we’d had our first date last night, which in a way we had, I sat down like his longtime girlfriend, taking her customary seat. I didn’t make eyes at him, just smiled and turned to dig out my scriptures. Nothing in my bearing dared other women to laugh at me, and wonder of wonders, no one did. No one even pointed. We got a lot of curious stares.

Len leaned back in his seat and angled his body towards mine and I crossed my legs towards him. He had his smartphone in his hand and was tapping away at the screen with his fingertips, and I opened my scriptures and set them out on my knee.

Occasionally I felt his gaze, like a warm hand laid against my skin. I’d look up and smile and watch his mouth twitch up at the corners in response. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable, but months of problems didn’t resolve in one evening. Over the course of the morning, I felt as much as saw him relax, notching down his stress like a rope being unwound a turn at a time.

A
week later, he was asleep on my couch again, snoring, as a movie started up on the DVD player. I switched off the movie, rolled him onto his side, and when the snoring didn’t stop, I tucked a blanket around his throat. That didn’t work either, so I just resolved to ignore it and read next week’s Sunday school lesson.

Though it seemed like his snores were getting louder. I did my best to focus. A particularly loud snort made me look up, and I caught him watching me with one eye, which he shut fast, but not fast enough.

Fine, I thought. Two could play this game. I got out my sketchbook and sketched my couch with a skinny hedgehog draped across it, its mouth open and eyes shut. Every time I sensed Len look at me, I turned further away.

I had my back to him when the snoring abruptly stopped and he snatched the sketchbook from me. “Hey!” I said.

“What is this?”

“It’s a hodgehog.”

“How is that different from a hedgehog?”

“I would think that’s
obvious
.”

He cracked up. His random sense of humor hadn’t changed.

“Give it,” I said.

He gave me a kiss instead.

Later in the week, he had to work late. I tried not to pester him on chat too much, but it was so gratifying to type something and get a response immediately. I distracted myself with another doodle, this one of the hodgehog seated at a computer with a pencil behind its ear. For a background I drew an underground burrow that was a total wreck. The garbage can was overflowing with crumpled papers. There were dirty dishes on the desk and the floor. The hodgehog also had a half eaten burrito at its elbow. Once I’d finished off the shading, I scanned it and emailed it.

Hodgehog
: Lol, what is this?

Edunmar
: The hodgehog in its natural habitat.

Hodgehog
: You think I’m a real slob, don’t you?

Edunmar
: Okay, hang on.

I got out another sheet of paper and sketched a female skinny hedgehog, sitting on the floor in a pile of papers, paint smudges all over her face and hands. The studio around her was packed with art supplies that looked like they’d collapse on her at any moment. I scanned that one and sent it.

Hodgehog
: Cute.

Edunmar
: The only way I keep my house clean is by not spending time in the rest of it.

Hodgehog
: Your kitchen is clean.

Edunmar
: And your console games are neatly organized.

Hodgehog
: Touche- k, sorry need to go into the other room. Back in a few.

I felt lame, pestering him nonstop, but I couldn’t peel myself away. I sketched another picture of the skinny girl hedgehog in front of her computer, her chin in her hands, pining. I set that aside, no point sending that one.

Hodgehog
: All right.

Edunmar
: What?

Hodgehog
: I’ve got a comp day on Friday. You free?

Edunmar
: Yes.

Hodgehog
: You sure? Don’t let me take up your work time.

I still hadn’t told him about my inheritance and how I didn’t really have to work anymore.

Edunmar
: It’s fine.

Hodgehog
: Okay, I need to go work in one of the other offices. I’ll talk to you later. Love you.

Edunmar
: Love you too.

Five minutes later I sent him the cartoon of the pining hedgehog.

“S
o,” said Len on Friday as he lounged on his couch, “guys in my office are looking up hedgehog comics online.”

I was sitting on the floor, sketching a picture of the hodgehog with legions of female hedgehogs making eyes at him at church - in an underground burrow of course. I looked up. “Why?”

“Because they don’t believe me when I say the pictures on the wall are by my girlfriend.”

“You have them on your wall?”

“Yeah, of course I do.”

My face flushed hot. “They must think I’m a stalker or something.” I looked down at the sketch I was doing.

“No, they don’t believe that you just do that, with pen and pencil. Or that someone that talented would be giving me free art.”

I shaded in the back of the burrow. “I can do real art. I mean, if you ever want a painting or anything.”

“That is real art. I already have a couple of your prints. I just haven’t put them up because I’m a sloppy hodgehog.”

“Don’t buy those. I can give them to you for free.”

He shook his head. “Of course I bought them. Don’t be stupid.”

I tore the finished sketch out of my sketchbook and handed it to him. “Sorry, I should move on to another theme, shouldn’t I?”

“I assumed you were being ironic.”

“No. I guess this is just how I deal with life, by drawing stuff. Obsessively.”

Len slid off the couch to sit next to me on the floor. He traced my cheekbone with his thumb. “Works for me.”

I turned to a clean page and began to draw two skinny hedgehogs flying a kite. Once Len caught on to what it was, he laughed. “Worst. Date. Ever.”

“I dunno. It was kinda funny.”

“Well, that’s what I thought, but I got the impression you felt differently.” He smirked at me.

I drew a crooked, ugly smiley face on the kite.

He cracked up.

A
couple of weeks later as we walked back to his house after a matinee, he handed me a folded up piece of paper. I gave him a questioning look and unfolded it. It was a drawing of two stick figures, one on bended knee in front of the other. “This what I think it is?” I asked.

“So, I do have reservations at the steakhouse tonight, but yeah. I was afraid I’d lose my nerve.”

“Really? You’re really asking me?”

“I am, yeah. The ring’s at my house.”

“Really?!”

He stopped walking. “Yeah. Is that a yes?”

“Yes!”

“It’s not a great ring. Just a cheap one until you pick out one you like better. I put money aside for a real one... okay, now what’s wrong?”

I’d winced. “I kind of forgot to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

I took the picture and drew a dollar bill in my stick figure’s hand. On it I wrote the amount of my inheritance and handed the picture back to him.

He blanched. “What?”

“I kind of inherited some money.”

“This a joke?”

“No.”

“Oh...”

“I love you.”

“You’re
serious
?”

“Yeah. You can get that new Xbox you’ve been wanting.” I took the paper back from him, folded it, and stuck it in my shirt. “I’m keeping this.”

He didn’t even protest or try to take it back, just looked shell-shocked all the way home.

“H
ello?” I answered my cellphone as Carrie loaded my dress into the car and my dad pulled out an envelope with my temple recommend and live ordinance recommend in it.

“Hello, is this Eliza Dunmar?”

“Yes.” For the next two hours, I added in my mind.

“This is Jessica Finlay. I’m an agent?”

“Yes, right.”

“I’ve got your portfolio here and I love it. I’d like to offer you representation.”

“Really? That’s great!”

“I’m sure you have questions.”

“I should but... I’m kinda... yeah. Overwhelmed. My wedding is in two hours.”

“Oh?” She laughed. “Why don’t you call me back in a few weeks then? You have my number?”

“Yes.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you!”

After she hung up I copied her number out of my phone onto the back of the card Colin had sent me that said, “Congratulations for getting married you crazy religious weirdo.”

My parents both waited in the car for me, so I dashed out the door to join them.

W
e arrived at the temple as Len was getting out of his car and he waved to me as Carrie pulled around into a parking space.

“Eliza, can I have a moment?” my dad asked.

Carrie got out of the car and shut the door.

I turned to him and leaned my chin on the back of the front seat. “Yeah?”

“I’m not gonna make it through this without crying,” he said.

“Don’t you start.”

“Honey, you and I have lost a lot of people in our lives.”

I nodded.

“And I know losing your mother is devastating, but I think it’s even worse to lose a child.”

Again, I nodded.

“You have no idea how many nightmares I’ve had about losing you.”

“Me?”

“Of course, you’re the only daughter I have left.” He reached over the back of the seat and patted my knee. “I’ll try to hold it together, here-”

“Dad, as rough as it is to lose my mother, I can’t imagine losing a child. Or two children.”

“Yeah.” He nodded curtly.

And there was a chance it might happen to me. Even on this, one of the happiest days of my life, the shadow of the family curse cast its usual pall.

He patted my knee again. “I really like the guy you chose. He’s one in a million.”

“I know.”

“
Almost
good enough for you.” He winked and then turned to get out.

I took my wedding dress down from the hook and slung it over my shoulder as I clambered out my door. Len came to take it from me and kissed my forehead. “You sure about this?” he asked.

“No backing out now,” I warned him.

He grinned. We walked hand in hand to the door of the temple, where Keeley, Hattie, and Louisa (who could not be kept out of anything) all stood waiting. They gathered around with excited shrieks and hugs and Louisa snatched the dress from Len. Keeley flashed me a knowing smile and we both hunched our shoulders with silent laughter.

Len and I exchanged one last grin before stepping into the temple, and the rest of eternity together.

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