by T Gephart
I agreed, not only because she was right—melted ice cream wasn’t happening on my watch—but the thirty minutes or so we’d planned on spending in the grocery store had already stretched to an hour. Who’d have thought walking down the aisles making fun of what kind of toilet paper she bought would be so much fun.
“Here let me.” I helped load up her groceries onto the conveyor belt, watching the crazy mix of healthy things and junk food travel down the line and zapped by the sales associate.
And without even thinking about it, I pulled out my credit card and handed it over as the last item was scanned and tossed in a bag.
“No, Dallas, they’re my groceries,” Kitty insisted, digging into her bag and yanking out her own card. “Use this one.” She waved at the woman behind the counter who had already taken mine.
“Ignore her,” I laughed, nodding to the lady to go ahead and charge the card. “Besides,” I turned to Kitty who still thought she had a chance at paying. “Half that stuff is mine, and I didn’t want to do the math for what I owed you.”
“I would have been able to cover your ice cream and cookies, Dallas.” She rolled her eyes. “Next time, I’ll make you wait in the car.”
I didn’t bother arguing with her, grabbing our bags and carrying them out to my ride. Regardless of what she said, there was no way I was waiting outside while she shopped. If she was going to get really upset about it, she could pay for her boring crap and I’d take care of all the good stuff. That was about as big a compromise as I was willing to make.
“We should go.” She looked down at the time on her phone, the morning slipping away. “I don’t want you to be late. Just drop me off and I’ll get the bags up into the apartment by myself.”
I waved her off, putting the bags into my trunk not at all concerned. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about me,” I said, having no plans about doing any of that. “I have plenty of time.”
So I’d skip the shower, it wouldn’t be the first time I swiped a washcloth under my arms and tossed on some deodorant. All I needed was a few minutes and I could be out the door. And making sure she didn’t struggle up stairs hauling bags upstairs was more important than my beauty routine.
“Okay.” She smiled, hoping into the passenger seat. “But only if you are sure.”
I answered without any hesitation.
“Positive.”
Kitty
AFTER DALLAS LEFT, I CLEANED UP MY apartment and then spent the afternoon rearranging my closet. I had been meaning to do it forever but I always found an excuse not to. But my morning had put me in a really great mood so I decided since I had no other plans I’d take advantage of feeling so upbeat.
It wasn’t half as bad as I’d made it out to be, moving quickly through my clothes and designating what I wanted to keep and what was going to be donated to charity. Not even sure why I had put it off for so long, the neater and more organized closet making me feel super satisfied as I closed the door.
Not only did I accomplish a boring meaningless task and not hate every single second of it but it also helped pass the time. And before I knew it, it was time to start getting ready to go to Eve’s gallery with Dallas.
We’d agreed to meet up at the gallery around six. He’d argued of course, telling me that since we lived so close it made more sense for us to go together. But he had already done so much for me, and I didn’t want him feeling like he’d been relegated to my personal driver.
Plus, that would be like a date and we were definitely not dating. Well, not like real dating. It was for experimental purposes only and the last thing I’d do would be take advantage of Dallas.
He conceded—barely—but only after I reasoned it might alter our ever-important data. I could tell he still wasn’t on board with meeting me there, but he didn’t continue to argue.
I’ll admit that my life would probably be a little easier if I had a car. Even though it would probably spend most of the time sitting idle while I took the subway to work. But part of me liked the freedom, and I had no problem with getting where I needed to be. Which was why I reassured Dallas that I was fine catching an Uber and meeting him there.
I’d showered again, the time spent in my closet making me sweaty. So I freshened up and flat ironed my hair straight. Even though it wasn’t a date, I didn’t want to turn up to Eve’s gallery looking like anything less than my best. Important people turned up all the time—fancy people with their designer clothes and important jobs, and you never knew when you would need to make a good impression. Which was why I was making an extra effort on my appearance, and putting on a nice dress.
Well, at least that was the reason I told myself I was doing it, noticing the nice dress was my backless silver cocktail dress that meant I couldn’t wear a bra. It also showed off my amazing tattoo, which was the other thing Dallas loved. Boobs and ink, I was two for two on the list of his favorite things. Ironic that the top I’d worn earlier in the day had a similar theme and Dallas had liked it. Pure coincidence of course.
My gut tightened as I pulled up to Art Addiction, Eve’s gallery, and I hoped I didn’t seem like too much of an idiot. I knew that Eve, Josh or Dallas would never judge me like that, but knowing how much it was a part of all of their lives, it was the first time I was nervous about it.
I thanked my Uber driver, stepping out on the sidewalk as I tried to reason with myself I was being stupid. Nobody cared what I thought about the art—probably wouldn’t even ask—and I was there supporting a friend which was what was important. With the pep talk still looping in my head I walked through the doors and into the main space.
While I loved to support Eve, I didn’t go to the gallery as often as I should. The artwork didn’t always make sense, the stuff on the wall sometimes looking more like a kindergartner’s art project than something that should cost thousands of dollars. I was more traditional in my tastes, liking the calmness and perfection of the Renaissance masters. Sure a lot of my friends preferred stuff that was more avant-garde, but the busyness on the canvases just seemed like noise to me.
Art Addiction wasn’t a traditional gallery. It was an old hotel that had been purchased by Eve and completely refurbed. It maintained some of its old rustic charm, while the floors and ceilings had been polished and updated.
“Kitty!” Eve saw me first, throwing her arms around my neck and welcoming me with a hug. “Josh mentioned you might stop by.”
Eve was the definition of polished perfection. If a hair was out of place, it was by design not accident. Which is how she was able to still look like she belonged in a magazine despite wearing a messy bun.
I hugged her back, the nerves I was feeling a little earlier starting to quell. “Hey, I’m sorry it took me so long to come check out your new stuff. We’ve been getting slammed at work.”
“It’s probably just as well.” She laughed, pulling back to look at me. “If you’d turned up on opening night, no one would probably have paid any attention to what was on the walls. That dress is stunning.”
I waved her off, pretending like the outfit was no big deal. “Please, this old thing? I just found it this afternoon while I was cleaning my closet and decided to throw it on.” Not entirely a lie considering I had been cleaning my closet.
“Well then, you should clean your closet more often.” She gently yanked on my arm. “Josh and Dallas are already walking around, and I’m positive you’ll have more fun with them than me. I have a buyer coming at seven and need to schmooze so let’s go find them.”
I followed her through the space, the place still mostly empty. It was still early in art hours, artsy people being more night owls like Dallas than morning people like me.
Dallas had his back to us, standing next to Josh, while they were deep in conversation looking at a drawing on the wall. He was in his usual uniform of head-to-toe black, the color coming from whatever skin was showing, and tonight that wasn’t much.
Wearing a black button down un-tucked, over black jeans he had someho
w managed to keep his edge while still fitting in. It was amazing to me that no matter where he was, he genuinely didn’t care what people thought of him. I loved that about him, glad he didn’t feel some stupid need to conform or change what he looked like.
Like he’d heard my thoughts, he turned and smiled. His hair was extra glossy, like he’d slicked it back with some kind of product, while the shorter side looked freshly clipped and neater than I’d seen it earlier.
The rest of him hadn’t been so clean-cut, his unshaved jaw making him look even sexier. His hazel eyes fixed on me in what I hoped was appreciation, and regardless of who was standing around, his attention was mine alone.
“Looking good, Dallas.” I sidled up to him, bumping his shoulder casually. “Who are you trying to impress?”
“You’re impressed?” He laughed, ignoring my shoulder bump and pulling me in for a hug.
He smelled good too, not of cologne but of soap and shampoo—manly and fresh. I liked it, the scent pure and unpretentious.
Allowing myself a quick hug—anymore and I was liable to start groping him even with an audience—I pulled back and smiled at Josh. “Hey Josh, great to see you again. And thanks again for saving me the other night.”
I’d assumed he’d told Eve, my unfortunate evening probably earning them both a laugh. Not that I cared, I found it funny too now that I was no longer tethered to my headboard.
“Don’t mention it.” He tipped his chin in greeting, his arms finding their way around his girlfriend’s waist.
“Hey, I’d like to point out that I was instrumental to the rescue. And I brought pie.” Dallas mirrored his friend’s behavior, one of his hands resting on my hip.
I tried not to think about how much I liked it, or that I had no intention of asking him to move it. After all, we touched each other all the time so his hands on me weren’t anything new or suspect. What was new was the knot in my gut getting even tighter and my pulse picking up pace, but I decided to ignore it, convinced I was overthinking.
It was while I was trying to not overthink—something I wasn’t doing very well—that my eyes glanced down to Eve’s hand and saw the massive and very stunning engagement ring.
“WOW,” I said louder than was probably expected in a place like we were in. My hand grabbed hers and brought it in closer for inspection, the diamond reflecting every single light source like a disco ball.
“It’s beautiful.” My words directed more to the ring than to anyone else considering I’d yet to take my eyes off it. “I can’t remember if Dallas told me you guys got engaged or not, but that ring is freaking amazing.”
Eve wriggled her fingers, the sparkle in her eyes matching the impressive diamond on her hand. “Thanks, it only happened a few days ago. And I told Josh this ring was way too much but he’s being stubborn and won’t even think of downgrading.”
“Like I would give my future wife anything but the best,” he scoffed, biting back the grin. “I only plan on doing this one time, and that ring isn’t even close to how much you mean to me.”
“You’re lucky I haven’t eaten yet, or else I’d be ready to puke.” Dallas groaned, clutching his stomach.
I elbowed him, standing up straighter as I turned to Josh. “I think it’s adorable and the ring is perfect. It’s exactly the kind of ring Eve would wear too. He did an amazing job.”
“Can we not talk about how great Josh is?” Dallas rolled his eyes. “I already told you how close I was to puking.”
“He is all yours, Kitty.” Josh winked, backing away slowly and taking Eve with him. “We’re going to go say hi to some more people and leave you guys to it. And D, if you’re still having the urge to get sick, use a bathroom for God’s sake. Don’t mess up Eve’s floors.”
He took his laughing fiancée with him as they wandered back through the room.
“You can’t honestly tell me that Josh and Eve aren’t the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.” I glared at him, challenging him to disagree. “Because that ring and how loved up they are is freaking beautiful.”
He rolled his eyes, leaning in closer as he whispered, “Of course I think it’s great, I love them together. But if I tell Josh shit like that he will start getting a head swell, and I can’t have that. Who is going to keep him levelheaded now he has a hot woman who has agreed to be his wife? If anything, I’m going to have to work doubly hard so he doesn’t believe his own press.”
“You can’t be serious,” I laughed. “Out of the two of you, you’re the one with the bigger ego.”
“That’s not the only thing that’s bigger.” The flirty grin across his mouth got wider.
I shook my head not at all surprised he’d taken it there. “I’ll take your word for it. Now walk around with me while I try not to look stupid when I look at these paintings.”
My admission shocked him, his cheeky smile dropping as he stopped. “Why would you look stupid?”
“Because I don’t get it.” I shrugged not bothering to pretend. “I just don’t see what you guys see.”
He looked confused, not understanding what I meant.
“Usually I just stand in front of them, looking like I know what it’s supposed to be,” I explained. “While I get there is probably some brilliance there, I don’t really understand it.”
“Kitty.” He purred my name sending a shiver down my spine. “You’re one of the smartest people I know, you couldn’t look stupid if you tried. And lucky for you, you’re going to get your own personal tour.” His hand tightened around my hip as he brought me in closer. “And I’m going to be your tour guide.”
Only Dallas could make the words tour guide sound illicit, making me laugh as I nodded. I wasn’t sure exactly what he had in mind, but I was pretty sure I was open to almost any of his suggestions.
What I expected was we’d walk around, and Dallas would whisper dirty innuendo in my ear about what was on the canvases. Tell me where he saw penises or which one looked like a vagina. But instead he spoke about composition, about how things were placed and why. He compared them to tattoos, talking about positioning the art so it fit properly or lined up with curves of the body. It wasn’t just about the picture; it was about where the picture was placed.
Then he moved onto color and tone, and how they could be used to represent emotion and movement. He pulled up the sleeve on his shirt and showed me an intricate cross on his forearm. The entire piece was in grayscale, the light and dark graduated tone. It looked so real, so lifelike even though the only color used was black. Then he pulled up the other sleeve, the forearm on display a stunning portrait. The girl was in color, saturated and bright, the harsh black outline making everything else pop.
“You have to be able to tell the story without saying a word.” He pointed back to the wall. “Whether it’s with a brush stroke or a tattoo machine, you need to let it whisper in your ear.”
We stood in front of a canvas, the erratic mess of red lines seeming to say nothing. It was like I was deaf, or blind, not able to hear or see anything anyone else could. “I just don’t see it,” I groaned in frustration, trying to focus even harder, which didn’t help.
“Ok stop.” He stood behind me, holding my waist encouraging me to continue to look. “Just tell me what you do see.”
“Red.” I blew out a breath, stating the obvious.
“And . . .” He waited for me to continue.
I looked again, hoping for a strike of brilliance that didn’t come. “I don’t know—lines, a mess—randomly messy red lines,” I huffed in frustration knowing it wasn’t the right answer.
He didn’t flinch continuing to hold me still as he leaned in behind me. “And how does it make you feel?”
“Honestly, angry. I feel frustrated and angry, trying to see what isn’t there. It’s agitating, and makes me want to look away because it just makes me more irate.”
He chuckled softly in my ear, amused by my obvious lack of understanding.
“Hey, you asked, don’t mock me b
ecause I got it wrong.” I turned around, jabbing him roughly in the chest.
“Read the plaque, Kitty.” He pointed to the small rectangle beside the canvas.
I shook my head, no longer interested in the painting. “Dallas, let’s just move on.”
“Just do it,” he insisted, pushing me gently in the back so that I stepped forward.
I rolled my eyes, moving closer to read it for no other reason that to appease him. I glanced at the rectangle and read the title.
Inner turmoil
“I wasn’t mocking you.” His arm wrapped around my waist. “I was laughing because you were seeing it exactly right and didn’t even know it.”
It shouldn’t have made me as proud as it did, but it thrilled me nonetheless. Maybe I wasn’t as artistically dense as I’d first thought. Or maybe it was about having it explained to me in a way I could understand.
My gold-star effort earned me an amazing smile, Dallas and I continued to walk along the walls and talk about what we saw. I still wasn’t any closer to liking the more abstract stuff—preferring the old school masters—but at least I no longer felt inept.
In the time we’d been walking around, the space had filled. We hadn’t even noticed the people around us, too engrossed in our own world to worry about anyone else.
“You want to go get something to eat?” He tugged on my arm, pulling me closer to an exit. “I know a crazy good steak place around here. Pretty sure they don’t serve quinoa, but I’m positive we’ll find something on the menu you like.”
I glared at him, blowing out a breath. “I put it back on the shelf. And for your information, I’m not a fussy eater and I love steak.”
“Then it sounds like the perfect place. Let’s go.”
He didn’t wait for my answer, leading me out the door before I’d had a chance to say goodbye to either Eve or Josh. “Aren’t we going to say bye?” I asked, already on the sidewalk before I’d managed to get the words out.
“Nah, Eve is always really busy and Josh likes to do the supportive thing. I don’t want to ruin their vibe.” He looked over my shoulder to the door we’d just come out of. “We’ll order them dinner and have it delivered later. It can be like our little thank you card,” he laughed. “But better since they’ll both be starving and won’t have to cook.”