Read The Art of My Life Online
Authors: Ann Lee Miller
Tags: #romance, #art, #sailing, #jail, #marijuana abuse
The Art of My Life (34 page)
July 5
Flaws add depth,
luminescence, beauty to a masterpiece. Call me self-absorbed, but
my mistakes only trash me. I’m the Coors can, crumpled and kicked
to the side of the road.
Aly at
www.The-Art-Of-My-Life.blogspot.com
Fish halted half way across Henna’s
living room, his gaze galvanized to Missy’s naked body. A
lithograph engraved on his hard drive.
Missy’s eyes popped wide with
surprise. “People in civilized cultures knock before they come
in.”
“
I-I did. The
music—”
Her eyes narrowed, defiance coloring
them, and she stood there another full second before she turned and
walked the two steps through the open bedroom doorway as though she
had all the time in the world.
If the front view had knocked the
breath out of his lungs, the rear nearly asphyxiated
him.
The door shut, and the
Grateful
Dead
muted.
He sank into an armchair and dropped
his head back against the upholstery. Oh God, he’d never get that
vision out of his head. Never.
She might as well have been tattooed
with a Miss America sash that said
Marriage
. If he ever
wanted to see
that
again, he’d have to put a ring on her
finger, stand in front of her daddy, and promise
forever.
Marriage-kids-marriage-kids whirled
around his head like the stars circling Wile E. Coyote after he got
clocked. He felt like walking out the door, Craigs-listing his
truck, surfboard, and laptop and hiking to Killman Jewelry Store
for a diamond ring. At the moment, he’d pretty much sell his
soul.
He’d seen other girls naked. He didn’t
know why he was going into cosmic meltdown over Missy.
He’d put money on it that Missy had
never been full-on naked in front of any guy. But she hadn’t
streaked out of sight like his sisters would have. It was almost
like she wanted him to see. That little upward thrust of her
chin.
Maybe she was comfortable with nudity.
But that seemed crazy—preacher’s kid, daughter of uptight
Starr.
Regardless, the hook was
baited.
He pulled at his hair trying to decide
what to do.
He heard Missy moving around in what
used to be Cal’s room.
The door opened, and she walked into
the room in a loose T-shirt and shorts that reached almost to her
knees. She stopped several feet away and folded her arms across her
waist.
His eyes welded to her finer points.
He forced his gaze down to her red Converses, but his eyes
boomeranged to her breasts, then skated crazily over her body. In
his mind, he only saw skin—every pore in photo focus.
He buried his head in his hands with a
groan. Would he ever be able to look at her again without seeing
her naked? Geez.
“
I can’t be that pathetic.
I run every day.” Her voice wavered.
His head bounced up. “Pathetic? No.
Perfect? Yes.” The kind of perfection that was sealing his future
behind iron-barred doors.
“
Then why do you look so
bummed? And why did you want to talk to me.”
Fish hefted himself out of the chair
and edged around the room toward the door. “I can’t have this
conversation right now. I need to go home. Think about mullet,
socialized medicine, Corn Flakes. I’ll call you to reschedule.
We’ll talk on the phone—that’s it.” His hand clamped on the door
knob.
“
Don’t bother.” Her voice
was strained, her eyes trying to hide her hurt.
“
Mis, it’s not like that.
You make me wish I had a ring in my pocket. You’re beautiful.
Perfect.”
Her face relaxed.
“
Happy Birthday. Your gift
is on the table.” He let himself out. The door clicked
shut.
River water sloshed against the hull
as Aly tossed in bed, replaying her conversation with Cal last
week. She should have figured out Cal had gone to jail doing a
favor for Henna and Leaf. She’d never seen him carry large amounts
of weed. She should have visited him in jail.
Her mind drifted back to when Cal had
been there for her.
Three years ago she’d stood at the
convenience store counter paying for a pregnancy test. Cal, newly
dumped by Raine and fired from teaching art at camp, waited behind
her, feigning interest in the sunflower seeds and flavored corn
nuts.
A blonde kid with a barbell through
his eyebrow handed her the rest room key attached to a foot-long
replica of the State of Florida—without her asking. No secrets
here.
Afterward, she burst out the glass
doors waving the plastic tester in one hand and the State of
Florida in the other. “It’s blue! It’s blue!” She end-zone danced
around Cal where he sat on the curb under the hum of white
neon.
He stood up, laughing at
her.
She threw her arms around him,
planting a loud smack on his stubbly cheek and released him. She
danced on the curb, the oil-polished cement, the sidewalk. “No
mini-Gar! No borderline-I.Q.ed toddler who walks around in love
with his belly button!”
Later, they sat in Cal’s car watching
the waves roll in the moonlight.
Cal stuck the plastic spoon in the
almost-empty pint of Chunky Monkey and passed it to her. “You know,
Al, we’re both pretty screwed up, but we’re good for each other.”
He looked at her across the tattered bench seat of his mother’s old
station wagon. “Why is that?”
Aly shrugged. “But you’re right.” She
shifted around to face him. “The combo of thinking I was preggers
and…” she looked at the Ben and Jerry’s carton in her hands, “your
turning me down for sex…” She lifted her eyes to Cal. “I’m done
with sleeping with guys—until I get married, if I do.”
She set the empty carton on the dash.
“Thanks—for everything.” She couldn’t put her gratitude fully into
words.
Cal dropped his head. “The only reason
I didn’t say yes was because I didn’t want to look stupid…. I’m a
virgin.” He rubbed his temples. “I’m unemployed with no education.
This evening while you were with me I got an idea to paint that
will keep me sober for three days.
That’s
who I am. I can’t
live up to everyone’s expectations. I’m done trying.” His tone was
harsh.
Aly laid her hand on the three-day’s
growth on his jaw. Her eyes bore into his. “I love you, John Calvin
Koomer.”
Cal’s eyes had widened, then peace
seemed to settle over him. “Thanks, Al.”
He probably thought she’d meant it as
a friend, and that was fine. He wouldn’t be ready for the whole
truth until he got over Raine.
The hatch slid open jarring her back
to the present, and she sat up on her bunk. “Cal?”
Cal slid the hatch shut and climbed
into the
Escape
’s cabin. He inhaled the residue of steam and
forest scent from Aly’s shower that—even after two and a half
months living on the boat together—filled his head with pictures of
Aly’s water-slicked skin.
“
Cal?”
His heart skipped a beat. This was the
first time in weeks Aly had been awake when he came in. “Yeah, it’s
me.” He headed toward her bunk.
She sat cross-legged on her mattress,
the sheet pulled up to her waist. In the dim light from the galley,
he could see the hideous football jersey that left everything to
the imagination. “What’s up?”
“
I was thinking about how
you stood by me when I had the pregnancy scare with Gar. You were
pretty much at rock bottom yourself, but you dredged up concern for
me from somewhere. You got me through it. I didn’t have anyone else
to turn to.”
His heart drummed in his chest. “It
didn’t just go one way. Your needing me pulled me out of self-pity.
And, I don’t think I ever told you this…. We fell asleep in Cody’s
garage, and I watched you wake up. You looked so pretty all sleepy
and mussed in that weird lighting. I had to get you on canvas.
Painting you kept me sober for a week, pulled me out of my
tailspin.”
“
You painted me then, when
you were still into Raine, right before… Evie.” Her voice sounded
choked. He couldn’t see her eyes in the shadows.
He sat on her bunk. “You’ve always
been a constant underneath whatever chaos went on in my
life.”
She drew in a shaky breath. “I wanted
to say I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you went to jail. You
supported me when I needed you, but I flaked on you.”
“
There’s nothing to
forgive. You came to tell me Henna died. That’s what really
mattered.” He leaned over and scooped her into his arms. “Thanks
for coming that day. I don’t think I ever told you how much I
appreciated it.” He pulled away and halted a whisper away from her
lips, his mind skimming to what lay beneath her jersey.
He gritted his teeth and stood,
ripping himself in two. The half who wanted to make love to Aly
tonight in her bunk and the half who wanted to earn her trust and
yes
when he proposed.
“
I love you. Sleep
well.”
He sure wouldn’t.
Seeing Missy naked crystallized the
decision in Fish’s mind—he’d move to Orlando when law school
started or he’d marry Missy and commute. He was no closer to making
a choice about Missy than he had been on her birthday three weeks
ago. Every time he thought about her, his body lit like a roman
candle. He needed to make a rational choice.
He leaned against the hull behind his
bunk and drew a line down the middle of a legal pad. In the pro
column, he loved Missy. That pretty much cancelled out all the
cons—that he hadn’t factored marriage into his five-year plan, they
hardly had fifty bucks between them, they could have a baby by this
time next year.
At the very least it was time for him
to man-up and tell the girl he loved her. That was as good a place
to start as any.
He punched in Missy’s speed dial
number, held the phone in his sweaty palm, and stared at the
bulkhead at the end of his bunk.
“
Fish,” she said when she
picked up. And he knew he was in trouble.
“
What happened to calling
me Sean?”
“
What do you
want?”
“
You.” He coughed. “Go out
with me, Mis. On a date—dinner, a walk on the beach. We need to
talk.”
“
No. Just, no, Sean.” Her
voice sounded tight like she was barely holding it
together.
“
This is about my screwing
up another birthday, isn’t it? I know birthdays are important to
you.”
“
That was an accident. I
don’t blame you.” She sighed, and he could almost see her shoulders
slump. “I’m moving to Peru next month.”
He felt kicked in the stomach. “You’re
what?”
“
I told you a long time
ago I was thinking about it.”
“
To
visit
.” He
groaned. “You’re messing with my abandonment issues.”
“
We’re friends. Not
dating, married, nothing.”
“
I just asked you out. We
could be dating.”
“
What we need is to chill.
Hopefully, for the rest of our lives. Move on. I am.”
“
Are you seeing someone
else?”
Please, God, not Chas.
“
I’m not seeing you.
You’ve been jerking me around for a year, and I can’t do it
anymore.”
“
I wouldn’t be asking you
out if I weren’t serious.”
“
No. I can’t.”
Her breathing came through the
connection while he scrambled to absorb the finality he’d heard in
her voice.
“
We can keep in touch
online,” she said.
“
Great. Now I can read
your e-mails on New Year’s Eve with my family’s.” His mind jumped
back into kissing Missy on New Year’s Eve, the feel of her in his
arms, his necklace around her neck, the scent of orange
blossoms.
“
You need to deal with
your issues.”
“
That everyone bails on
me? My folks, God, Cal, you.”
“
What if you’re the one
who does the rejecting? Your parents begged you to visit in every
e-mail. Cal wants your friendship back. God? Like He’s going
anywhere. Get a grip, Sean.”
What was she saying? That he was the
one pushing her away?
“
But you’re the one who’s
leaving.”
“
I’m not unfriending you.
I’ll always care about you. We’ve had a bond all our lives. I’m
just going somewhere to make myself useful. The orphans need a
teacher. I need a life.”
“
What about your marriage
plans?”
“
Who knows, maybe I’ll
meet someone there.”
“
Chas.”
“
Whatever. Something will
work out. Or it won’t. Obviously, you don’t need sex to survive
like you need food, water, and oxygen.”
She dropped the word sex into a
sentence as if it weren’t the big issue lurking between
them.
He grasped for words that would make
her stay. “Don’t do this to me.”
“
Hey, at least I’m doing
something.
”
“
But—”
“
Fish, I’m
going.”
The second time in his life she’d
called him Fish. He could feel her peeling away from him
already.
“
Good-bye.” She hung
up.
He tossed the phone onto his bunk. He
wanted to drive over to her house and make her change her mind. He
kicked the bulkhead with his boot. He didn’t know what he was going
to do yet, but he’d fight for her. That much he knew.
