by Annie Jocoby
For his part, it seemed that he, too, seemed a little bit embarrassed to be painting me. He blushed even more profusely than usual, and he seemed a little bit tongue-tied.
“Okay, Dalilah,” he said when I arrived the studio. “Uh, go ahead, and uh, you know…” As he was talking, he was pointing at the divider in the room, and not meeting my eyes. He was looking down at the floor, and his hand was shaking a tiny bit. He noticed his own hand shaking, because he looked at me apologetically and said “don’t worry about that. My hand will be rock steady when I take to the canvas, I promise. I don’t know what’s wrong with me this morning.”
I knew exactly what was wrong with him, though, even if he didn’t acknowledge it. He had feelings for me too, strong ones. I could feel it. So it just wasn’t natural for us anymore to be merely artist and subject. He was feeling that, I knew.
And, when I emerged from behind the divider, I could feel my own face blush hot crimson. I felt so completely self-conscious, I felt like screaming. But I kept my cool, as much as possible. So, I laid there, just like normal, on the fainting couch, trying very hard not to concentrate on what was happening - that Luke was seeing me naked before he really should have.
Another thing that was going through my mind was that I wanted Luke to make love to me very badly. I really, really did. For the first time in my life, I wanted to be made love to, which felt absolutely wonderful. But I also knew that I didn’t want that to happen for a long time with him. I wanted to get to know him, body and soul, before we made love. Which was another reason why I didn’t really want to be naked in front of him anymore. There was just too much sexual tension now. It could be cut just like a knife. It was exceedingly difficult for me to be there, because I was feeling aroused like I had never before felt. It was actually physically painful, being that aroused and not being able to do anything about it. And I could just imagine how he was feeling. It was probably even worse for him.
That was when I realized that he was wearing baggy pants. Much baggier than usual. And I suddenly knew why. He was no doubt as aroused as I was, but he had to hide that fact, so he had to wear baggy pants. I thought about how I had gotten a glimpse at his erection last night when he had come over. It was quite nice and quite large. There was no hiding it in the fitted jeans that he was wearing. So he had evidently thought about that angle ahead of time, and had decided to wear pants that would hide his excitement.
The thought of that made me smile.
He smiled back, as he sat behind his canvas, concentrating fully. His eyes twinkled and his dimples were back. “What’s that smile about, Dalilah?” he asked me, his left hand furiously working on the canvas.
I shrugged my shoulders. “I was just thinking about last night,” I said. That was partially true. I was thinking about the previous night, in the context of remembering his erection when he kissed me.
He blushed again, and shook his head. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, Dalilah. I don’t know what got into me, kissing you like that. That wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.”
“No, no, no, Luke. Please don’t apologize for that. I liked it. I mean, I really, really, really enjoyed it.”
“I’m glad,” he said. “But, really, you can do better than a starving artist. So, I really had no business being as forward as I was last night.”
I took a deep breath, realizing that there was going to be some complications in pursuing what I really wanted in this situation. Which was an honest-to-god relationship with him. A relationship that was just like what my parents had. My parents, god love them, were as crazy about each other as they had ever been. I realized when I was an infant that mom and dad were nuts about each other, because I understood, even then, about emotions and love. And, as I grew up, and I watched them, I knew that what they had was special. More special than anything else I had ever seen. None of my friends had parents who were as deeply in love as mine.
Both of my parents were, individually, crazy in their way. But put their individually crazy personalities together, and, somehow, someway, it was pure kismet for them. Serendipity. Fate. Whatever word you want to use to describe two people who really got each other, and knew just how to make the other person happy, that would be the word that I would use for them. If I was at all spiritual, which I wasn’t, I would use the words “soul mates.” But that all seemed silly to me. I didn’t believe in the concepts of heaven, hell or souls. But if there was such a thing as a soul, then my parents would be considered to be each other’s soul mates.
And that was really what I was searching for. A relationship like my parents’. I could somehow see that Luke had the potential to give this to me. He couldn’t see it. He was evidently too blinded by his own sense of inadequacy. Not that I could blame him - he knew about me. About my family’s wealth. About my own background as a prodigy. That would be intimidating to many, if not most, men.
Which gave me even more resolve to try to help Luke behind the scenes. Luke just needed to have confidence in his own abilities, and he also needed to have financial security. When he had both of those things - which would come, I knew, because I had so much belief in his artistic abilities – then he would feel worthy of me.
In the meantime, though, I knew that there was very little that I could say or do that would convince him that he was worthy of me right at that very moment. He was a man, and, as such, he had to feel that he could provide for me, or for any woman that he would be with. I knew enough about the male gender to know how Luke was feeling, and there wasn’t much that I could do to dissuade him from feeling that way.
So, I just decided to bide my time with him. “Okay, Luke,” I said. “I understand. But I want to be friends with you. In fact, I would love it if you would meet my parents. They’re moving here soon. In fact, they already have a home in Montauk, and they’re in the process of actually getting the movers to get them out here. I kinda promised them that I would see them once a month. So, when I do see them, I would love it if you could come with me. You and my dad would really get on very well. He’s an artist, too, and he’s really brilliant.”
Luke blushed again. “I know about your dad. God, you probably think that I’m a total stalker now.”
I was curious about that. I didn’t remember there being any big article about my father, except for the People article all those years ago. I wondered if Luke had taken the time to actually research my father as well.
“I don’t think that you’re a stalker,” I said with a laugh. “What do you know about my father?”
“Well, I became really interested in you and your background when I Googled you,” he said. “So I wanted to find out all that I could. And Googling your father was quite easy. I’m so sorry. I feel like I invaded your privacy. I just didn’t want you to explain to me about your family and your father, when I already know about them.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “It’s not a secret or anything. My father lived for years as a drug addict, as you know, and he also had a male lover. Which you also know.” I watched Luke’s face, which showed no surprise, so it was obvious that he had found the People article. And he probably also found the other articles, more recent ones, that talked about my father’s animal rights foundation and animal sanctuary.
He nodded his head. “Yes. I mean, I also found all those other articles that talk about the good work that he’s doing right now with those animals. That’s really amazing. He seems to have such a huge heart. Your mother, too, because I know that she’s also involved with the charities.” Luke seemed anxious to not dwell on the negatives, which I appreciated.
“Yes,” I said. “My father has boundless compassion, and my mother as well. They’re tireless in their charitable contributions to the animals. They both have such a passion for it. But I’m sure that you also know that my mother also had her problems when she was young. That was all in that People article as well.”
Luke nodded his head. “Yes, I know. I have known many people like your mother.
Cutters. It’s sad that she had to go through all of that, but she really overcame it very well, too, from all that I read about her life now. Your parents are really remarkable people, and I would love nothing more than to meet them. If you really want me to.” He seemed shy again when he said that last part. As if he was afraid that I was somehow only inviting him to meet my parents because I wanted to be polite.
“Of course I do,” I said. “You’ll love them. They might be billionaires, but, really, you would be hard-pressed to meet two people who are as down to earth as they are.” I paused for a moment, thinking about them. And then, it was as if I had realized something for the very first time. I was lucky to have them as parents. I was lucky to have grown up surrounded by their guidance and love.
To my surprise, I felt a tear come down my cheek.
Luke looked very concerned when he saw me cry. “What is it, Dalilah?” he asked. He got up and handed me a box of Kleenex, and I blew my nose as more tears flowed down my cheeks.
I shook my head. “I haven’t been a very appreciative daughter. They’ve tried so hard to reach me for so long, and I have just ignored them and really made them feel like I don’t care about them and what they have to say. That was so wrong of me. A girl really couldn’t ask for better parents than them.” I felt so guilty, as I realized that I just had yet another epiphany. It was so weird – now that I was actually feeling emotions again, everything was starting to bother me. My behavior, in general, was bothering me. The sleeping around, the drinking in excess, the bitchiness to my parents – all of this was suddenly making me feel very, very ashamed of myself.
Luke put his strong arm around me, and I put my head on his chest while I cried. He had a chest made of steel, and his skin felt very warm. I sat there, feeling sad for my behavior, yet also feeling that I didn’t want to move. I loved the feeling of my head being in contact with his chest, even if I still had to feel his pecs through his clothes. I longed, so much, for him to be shirtless, with my head on his chest. I wanted, so much, to run my fingers on his naked body. To take my tongue and trace it around every inch and crevice of his no-doubt beautiful form.
My heart started racing, as I realized that my tears had dried, and I also realized that my overwhelming feelings of guilt were now replaced with overwhelming feelings of pure lust. Unadulterated lust. All I could think about was how I wanted Luke to be as naked as I was at that moment, and how much I wanted the two of us to spend the entire day on this fainting couch just leisurely exploring each other’s bodies with our fingers and our tongues.
But Luke was still comforting me. He apparently didn’t know that I was feeling so much heat and excitement just being so close to him, because he was sympathetically stroking my hair and talking softly to me. “There, there, Dalilah. I’m sure that your parents know that you love them. But if you are feeling badly, you really need to give them a call and tell them how you are feeling. And you are so very lucky to be able to actually call them and tell them that you love them. I wish that I had that option with my mom.”
And, just like that, I was jolted back into reality. Luke apparently had lost his mother. I felt so badly for him at that point in time.
I looked into his eyes. “Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry. How did you lose your mother?”
He shook his head. “That’s not important,” he said. “I’m sorry. I guess that just slipped out.”
I looked at him, and put my hand on his cheek. “I’m listening,” I said. “I would love it if you could confide in me. I mean, you know all about my family. I’d love to know more about yours.”
He just shook his head. “I’m so sorry, Dalilah. I’m sorry. But it’s still very raw for me. I mean, it shouldn’t be. It’s been ten years since it has happened. But I haven’t been able to talk about it with anybody.” And, at that, he got up and went back to his canvas. “Anyhow, where were we? I think that I need to get about another half hour in, and then we can quit for the day.”
I felt disappointed, not only because Luke apparently was hiding something about his mother, but also because Luke was no longer holding me in his arms. I wanted to simply melt in his arms, like a block of butter, and, now that he was back behind his canvas, I suddenly felt very cold and alone.
“Uh, I guess I was still posing for you, and you were still painting me.”
He smiled and nodded his head. “Yes, that’s just where we were. This portrait is really coming along nicely. Nottingham should love it. At least, that’s the idea. God forbid he thinks that it sucks.” But then he shrugged his shoulders. “Ah, the worst that could happen is that he says it sucks and he refuses to pay me. Then I would have this portrait for myself to keep. That would hardly be punishment.”
I cocked my head at him. “It wouldn’t be punishment? Why do you say that?”
“Because then I could always have this beautiful portrait of you. So, when you and I are done with this project, and you inevitably forget about me and find the wealthy guy who can treat you like the precious and rare diamond that you are, I will always have something that will remind me of you.”
I suddenly felt overwhelmingly sad for Luke. Sad that he couldn’t see what was in front of his face – that I wanted to be with him. I knew that. He evidently didn’t. I also felt sad that he thought that being treated like a cold jewel was something that I ever wanted out of a relationship. I wanted somebody who would treat me like the flawed person that I really was. Not somebody who held me up on a pedestal.
Luke evidently did have me on a pedestal, and that was incredibly frustrating for me. I knew why he put me on the pedestal, though, of course. He evidently couldn’t see me as clearly as I would have liked. He seemed to be blinded by his own insecurities in that regard.
I got up off my sofa, and went over to him. I didn’t look at the portrait he was making, of course. I never wanted to see these portraits until they were finished, and this was no exception. But I carefully went over to him and held out my hand for him to take.
He tentatively put his hand in mine, and looked at me questioningly.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, Luke. I’m going to say this only once. You can either believe it or not. I can’t convince you if you already have your mind made up about this. But I will tell you that I’m crazy about you. I’ve thought of little else but being with you, ever since you came over last night. I know that it’s sudden, because we don’t really know one another all that well yet. But I feel that I’m falling in love with you.”
Luke’s beautiful eyes got wide when I said that, and his entire face broke out into an enormous smile. But he also flushed a deep scarlet. He gripped my hand tightly in his own, and then he looked down at the floor. He still didn’t say anything, though.
So, I continued. “Who knows? Maybe I am my father’s daughter after all. He fell in love with my mom at first sight. She thought he was crazy, or at least that was how they told it to me. So, we Gallaghers are known for falling for people pretty quickly. I never thought that it would happen for me like that, until you kissed me last night. And then I knew.”
He looked like he might start to actually believe me. But, then he shook his head. “Oh, my god. I don’t know what to say. Except that I’m feeling the exact same way about you, Dalilah. I didn’t think that it would be possible that you would feel the same way about me.” His voice trailed off, and he looked at the wall, which was reflecting the light from the window. “Never thought it was possible.”
And then he took his hand away from mine and he gripped his paint brush tightly with both hands. He stared at the brush for a few minutes. He shook his head again and looked at me. My heart stopped as his beautiful eyes, which looked blue in this light, met mine. He put his hand on my cheek. “Oh, Dalilah, how I wish that things were different. How I wish that I would be able to give you the world. But I can’t possibly ask a woman like you to be with a boy who has bars on his windows to keep out the burglars. That’s the reality of the situation.”
I put m
y hands on the back of his head. “I know, Luke. I know how you are feeling. But I also know how I am feeling. And I know, as sure as I am standing here, that you’re going to be able to give me the world, if that is what you want. You are far too talented to live the rest of your life in poverty. Believe me. I wouldn’t say this if it weren’t true. I don’t blow smoke up anybody’s ass.” And then I smiled. “No matter how cute that ass happens to be in a pair of jeans. Anyhow, I digress.”
He smiled, too, at my little joke. But he looked down at the floor again. “Yeah, talented people never die in poverty. Like Van Gogh, Poe, Franz Schubert and Vermeer.”
I put my hand on his chin. “Hey,” I said. “Don’t dwell on those giants. Think more about Picasso, Warhol, Arbus, Ansel Adams, and any number of artists who became rich and famous during their lifetimes. That’s going to be you. You’re not going to fit the stereotype of the penniless genius. I completely believe in you. Now, you just have to also believe in yourself.”
He smiled and took my hands. “I know, Dalilah. I know that I’m talented. I just don’t have the certainty that you apparently do that the rest of the world is going to find out about my talent. Because, so far, I’ve just been drowning because I’m just one talented artist in an endless sea of others who are just as talented.”
I smiled back, because I did have the certainty that Luke would be discovered, sooner rather than later. As long as I could manipulate Nottingham to do what I wanted, then Luke would have the platform to show himself to the world. And the rest would fall into place.