by Jenny Rabe
Cambria took a sip of her soda as Jean moved on to her. “And what about you?”
“Me?” Cambria said, around a mouth full of lettuce. “Well, I paint for a living.”
“You mean, like construction?”
Brian started to shake his leg under the table. “No, actually. She’s an artist. Why do I feel like we’re being interrogated?”
Jean gave him a steely look, then smiled. “Sorry. Rob told me he really wanted us to get to know each other. I didn’t mean to be so forward. I guess it’s in my job description.”
“Speaking of,” Brian continued, “what is it that you do?”
Jean shrugged. “Just a manager for a little company.”
“What do you manage?” Cambria asked politely, though it came out sounding accusatory.
“The publication of books.”
He shifted next to Cambria as he glared at Jean and then at Rob. “What do you publish?”
Jean looked up at the ceiling. “Oh you know, lots of things. Fiction stories mostly, a few true ones.”
He pushed back, his chair clanging to the ground. Cambria startled next to him, then gave Jean a dirty look. What had she done?
In one swift movement, he grabbed the front of Rob’s shirt and pulled him to his feet. “You didn’t tell me she was in the publishing industry.” He turned to glare at Jean. “Are you the one sending texts and following me?”
“What?” Jean said, standing up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rob’s eyes grew wide as she looked from Brian to Jean. “I didn’t know, I swear. All she told me is that she was a writer.”
Jean stood up calmly. “If I offended you, I’m sorry.”
Brian let go of the front of Rob’s shirt, picked up his chair, and sat down, though he didn’t relax against the back of the seat. “So you haven’t been texting me or following me around town?”
Jean shook her head slightly. “I’m not a stalker. Yes, I did have plans to discuss a future article or a possible book, but I would never push that on someone by following them around. That violates so many rights, and I would never do that.”
“Well, who is sending me threats then?”
Jean shrugged. “I wish I could help, but I promise it’s not me.”
Cambria knew she was telling the truth. Jean looked as puzzled as she did.
“Tell the truth. Did you have motives tonight other than meeting Cambria and me?”
Jean looked toward Rob, but his face had turned stony. “That’s not why I’m dating you, Rob, I swear. I just happen to be a writer.” Turning to Brian, she continued, “And I just happened to hear about your story. For the record, I wanted to know the truth, to set the story straight—for you.”
He jerked up again, taking Cambria’s hand. She took the hint and moved quickly after him. “I’m not interested in sharing my story, and Rob should learn to keep his mouth shut.”
Brian threw a few bills down on the table right as the waitress brought the food. “Bag ours up, please,” he asked, shoving a few more bills towards her. “We’ll be dining out.”
* * *
Cambria slammed against the passenger-side door as Brian took another sharp turn.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m just so mad. Rob of all people. He is the only person that knows my whole story, other than May, and now his girlfriend knows enough to write a book about me. And I still don’t know who’s stalking me.”
Cambria shifted the takeout bag and laid a hand on his knee. “I’m really sorry, but you’re not alone now. We’ll be okay.”
At a stop light, he turned toward her and lifted Cambria’s chin. Her eyes widened, and he imagined the crazed look he must have in his eyes. He took a deep breath. “Sorry. I know this is not coming across at the right time, but I’m really glad you’re here.”
An impatient honk from behind sounded multiple times, making Cambria laugh. “You better go.”
When they left the Harker Heights city limits, Cambria turned to him. “Um, you live in another city?”
He grinned and checked the time on the car dashboard. “No, I thought we’d eat in the truck.”
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, the worry washing away inside.
He smiled. “Since our evening failed, I want to take you to this new place May told me about. They’re usually closed at five, but they have something special that’s open late. It’s an hour’s drive, but well worth the wait. Are you up for it?”
Cambria grinned. “Definitely.”
They chatted about their graffiti project’s finish as Cambria divvied up the food between them, enjoying the companionable silence in between groans of “Mmm… this is yummy” and “that roll was heaven” as they ate.
When they finished, Cambria looked around to see if she recognized anything. The ride to wherever they were going passed quickly, and by the time Cambria noticed signs to Austin, they were already there.
Brian pulled off an exit and traveled down some busy streets before he took a turn into a parking lot with a big brick building. A large white sign read “The Blanton Museum of Art.”
Cambria gasped. “You know about this place? I’ve always wanted to come here.”
Brian grinned and pulled out his phone. “Austin is becoming very popular in the world of art… so I’ve heard. Good ratings, fantastic art, and I thought it could help inspire you for future projects.”
Cambria smiled as he searched for a spot. “This is wonderful. Thank you so much. And I’m even happier those two dunderheads didn’t come with us.”
Brian mumbled as he climbed out of the car. “Can’t believe I fell for it again.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
He shook his head and reached for her hand. “Not another second about them. Should we go?”
Chapter Twenty Five
Cambria
Excitement bubbled inside Cambria as she headed toward the museum, two steps ahead of Brian.
“Whoa, you really are excited, aren’t you?”
Cambria bit her lip. “I usually never go with anyone to an art museum. Everyone always gets annoyed when I take my time studying one piece.”
Brian shook his head. “My phone is loaded with games to keep me occupied after my scant five-minute attention span.”
“Excellent. And I might leave you if—”
Brian held up a hand to stop her. “This visit is for you. Leave me, stay with me, stare all night long at one thing if you want to. This is your playground. Go and play.”
Cambria pushed up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “You’re kind of amazing.”
He led her up to the front desk and laughed as she ran ahead once she had her ticket in hand. Everything she passed was art. The architecture of the room, the paint chosen on the walls, the metallic structures that stuck out like odd sore thumbs in various parts of the museum.
“Splashes of Summer” caught her attention first. Even the room had ripples of blue and white to imitate the waves rolling in. She sat and soaked it in, the sounds of waves crashing coming from the hi-tech speakers in all corners of the room. Artists captured the beauty of beaches around the world. It calmed her, but by the time Brian reached her, she was ready to move on with him. He lingered at an ancient Egyptian exhibit while she walked from painting to painting of local art.
Maybe she hadn’t given Texas enough credit. Talent was everywhere. After an hour of looking at individual pieces of art, she turned her attention to the main exhibition at the front of the museum, which she’d walked right past in her hurry to immerse herself.
She read the label as she walked into the exhibit area. “On the Road Again by James Duggett.”
Walking deeper in the room, she saw paintings and photos depicting individuals as they traveled the countryside. Some landscapes were included, but the focal points of every picture were the faces. Excited, a little tired, but full of life. Cambria felt a kindred spirit with this artist.
Finding a bench,
she sat and stared for a good while, moving her eyes from piece to piece. Art meant everything to her. The paintings she had done in the last few months had helped heal her soul and given her strength. Now all of her paintings were bought and shipped to who knows where. Losing each one had been painful. But if she still had them, what would she have called her exhibition?
Each one was a painting of a soldier in an off-duty setting, doing mundane day to day activities. After learning that Shawn suffered from PTSD, she realized soldiers struggled to cope with a normal schedule once they returned. Without knowing it, she’d captured small moments in a person’s life, away from work.
A day in the life of a soldier? Heroes? Off-duty Life? None of them seemed to fit her worthy purpose. More than anything, Cambria had wanted her husband to go back to enjoying the everyday tasks and to be satisfied. Maybe that’s why she’d captured such simple memories.
Ordinary Moments in an Extraordinary Life. The title came to her, and with it came peace. Great title, except it would never happen. All the paintings were sold, and she always promised originals. Recreating similar paintings would zap the creative energy right out of her.
“You look deep in thought,” Brian said, coming up behind her. She rested her shoulder against him as he wrapped his strong arms around her.
“Just thinking of what I would have called my soldier gallery. I’ve wanted to support those that suffered from PTSD, but wasn’t sure how to do it. This could’ve been the way. I think of things too late. I mean it’s kind of great I can pay my own bills, but I feel kind of empty now.”
Brian reached for Cambria’s hand, and a smile flickered across his face. “What would you have called it?”
“Ordinary Moments in an Extraordinary Life.” Cambria shook her head, sadness creeping in and stifling her joy. Those paintings were long gone. Despair pricked her heart. The one time she could have done something positive since Shawn’s death, and she had missed the opportunity. If Shawn knew…
She looked down at their intertwined fingers. A pang of guilt settled on her shoulders, weighing her thoughts down. Darkness clouded her happiness from the day’s events. How quickly she had moved to another man. The guilt settled into the pit of her stomach, cramping and churning.
“Is everything okay?” Brian said, lifting her chin.
Cambria doubled over, holding her stomach with both hands. “I need to go. I shouldn’t be here with you.” The confession came out like a slap across her face.
Brian raised an eyebrow. “You know they’re still open for—”
“Now! I need to go now.”
“Sure. Anything you need.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead, and to his credit, didn’t respond as Cambria flinched away. “Let’s get you home.”
It was a quiet ride back to Harker Heights. Whenever Brian asked if everything was okay, her answer was the same. “I’m just tired.” Even if he did see right through her excuses, what could he do? She was a closed book.
When they arrived home, Brian jumped out of the truck to let her out, then followed her up the walkway.
Cambria gave him a small smile. He really tried to do something wonderful for her. “Thanks for taking me. I’m sure after a good night’s sleep, I’ll be fine.”
He nodded, and she backed away before he could kiss her. After she unlocked and opened the door, her attention moved to the picture on the wall. A sob escaped before she could stop it. She covered her mouth and turned to see if Brian was still behind her. His eyes were filled with compassion and concern, and her face crumpled even more.
Pushing past her, he reached for the picture of Shawn. Cambria gasped. “Don’t—”
He held out the frame. “I know you loved Shawn, and you still should. But he’s not hurting anymore, and even on his worst day, I know he would want you to be happy.”
Anger bubbled inside of her. How dare he assume to know her husband! “You don’t know what he would want.” She ripped the picture from his hands.
He held her shoulders in front of him and gently shook her. His eyes pleaded for her to listen. “Please. Please, don’t push me away. I need you. Let me stay with you for a while.”
Cambria didn’t need anything from him. She yanked her arms away. “I don’t want you here.” The words tumbled out before she could put on the verbal brakes.
His face fell, and he backed away, toward the door. “Okay, I’ll leave. But I texted you my new number if you need anything. I’ll come at any hour.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks. She turned before he could ask her to do any more impossible things. She slammed the door behind her, held the photo of Shawn to her chest, and climbed back into her safe but crippling hole of grief.
* * *
Brian stayed away, not even calling or sending a message. When Mrs. Walker came knocking two days later, Cambria finally broke down and told her everything, about Shawn, about her new interest in Brian, about her survivor’s guilt. Mrs. Walker patted her hand at all the right times, holding her close when the tears came, and gave her sound advice about allowing some space between her and Brian to see what her true feelings were.
Cambria decided to test out being alone and living life. She visited a spot she and Brian had spent a lot of time at together, the graffiti wall. Memories of their time together flooded her mind.
He wasn’t there, so she could think clearly. She walked the length of the wall, then stopped short when an undecipherable black signature stopped her in her tracks. It hadn’t even been a week and the graffiti monster had returned. How could someone deface such a newly painted wall? It was perfect and new.
Cambria sat on one of the concrete blocks that faced the wall and thought. What could she do to prevent this from happening again?
An idea popped into her head. If she could paint something local, something beautiful in its place, maybe a mural, maybe the graffiti monster wouldn’t be as tempted. Cambria stood, her determination moving her toward her car. She didn’t have anything else to do, and they had a whole lot of extra paint. He’d left it at her house even though she’d insisted outdoor paint was very different.
Now she was glad she had it. With her steady income, she could buy whatever else she needed. She only hoped he wouldn’t be mad that she was doing this without him.
Chapter Twenty Six
Brian
The next day, Brian held his finger over the call button so often that his index finger began to cramp. He only moved it to erase the many incoming texts and calls from the only person he didn’t want to talk to. Rob didn’t have anything to say he hadn’t heard from some interested reporter, wanting to do a new angle on the story. Brian would eventually have to see Rob at practice, but he wasn’t sure how he would react. Maybe deck him.
All he wanted to do was see Cambria. She was grieving, and he knew everyone healed in their own time and in their own way. But this was Cambria. Knowing she was hurting and he could do nothing about it felt like a punch to the stomach.
Instead of going over and showering her with flowers and hugs like he wanted to, he took his breakfast with him to the garage. Until he came up with an idea of what to do with her paintings, he wasn’t moving. The unopened boxes sat neatly against the wall.
His cereal was soggy before he decided he couldn’t stare at the unopened boxes any longer. Studying such an important piece of her might help him solve his puzzle. He pulled each painting out carefully, cutting the box just right so the boxes weren’t damaged. There was plenty of space to lay each painting out and study them. Twenty-four in all.
Each one was polished, shiny, and full of hope. He imagined her late husband in each one of those situations: walking a dog, pushing one of their children on a swing, sitting with his companion on the hill. Sadness gnawed at his chest of all Cambria had lost. She hadn’t just lost Shawn. She’d lost their future together. How hopeless that must make her feel.
He found a folding chair and sat in the middle of them, studying each one in tur
n. Maybe giving them back to her would cheer her up. He imagined showing up at her doorstep with all twenty-four packages. Would she be mad because he’d purchased them all? Buying them felt like the right thing, like he was finally putting his money to good use. But a surprise delivery could ruin everything.
He thought of what she’d said the night before, that these paintings belonged in a gallery as a tribute to soldiers who had served, especially ones who suffered from PTSD. The idea hit him like a baseball between his eyes. The answer had been there all along.
Cambria needed her own art gallery, and much nearer than Austin. Fortunately, he knew just the person who would donate to such a worthy cause.
He stood and started putting paintings back into boxes. There was a lot to do and plenty of time on his hands. First stop, he needed to find a studio.
He spent the day touring buildings around town, considering which ones would have the best light, the most exposure to crowds. There weren’t many abandoned buildings in Harker Heights that would work well as a gallery, and the few he saw needed lots of work.
After an exhausted search, he ate a sub at the place he and Cambria had gone to together. Afterwards, he went down the street where they’d taken a walk, eating ice cream as they window shopped. He jerked to a stop right in front of the place Cambria had mentioned would make a great studio and almost cried in relief.
This was it! He put the number into his phone and dialed. The faster he started, the faster he could see Cambria again.
He threw himself into his new project, hearing no word from Cambria. In his weaker moments, he sent her text messages and voicemails to ensure her he was still there. The last voicemail was the most pathetic of them all.
“Cambria, call me when you get a chance or message if that’s easier. Just let me know you’re okay. Please.”
The week crawled by. During practice, Rob didn’t say much to him, which was fine with Brian. He searched for Cambria every practice and game, but she never came. At the end of their third game on Friday, Rob caught him by the shoulder.