The Art of Hiding

by Kathleen Grace

  Kelly squirmed uncomfortably. “I was wondering if you’ve had any luck finding me somewhere to stay?”

  Mrs. Rhyne gave a huge sigh and threw her hands into the air. “Not a thing. It’s really dry out there, darling, however, Mr. Barris has been kind enough to offer to sub-let you a room in the cottage.”

  “Yes, I know.” Kelly blanched. “It just seems so odd that he would rent me a room in a house I already live in.”

  Mrs. Rhyne looked stern. “Well, darling, you know Mr. Barris doesn’t have to offer you a thing. He’s just been dropped into this predicament by no fault of his own.”

  Kelly tried not to sound as grudging as she felt. “Well I don’t know anything about the man, he could be a pervert for all I know.” She glanced up sheepishly at Mrs. Rhyne’s gasp.

  “Kelly, you seriously think I would have rented the cottage to just anybody? Mr. Barris is a well-known writer, and he is a gentleman. He is of impeccable character, and the fact that he’s sympathetic to your problem proves he’s a step above some others.”

  Kelly blushed and looked down at her hands. “Well, I suppose I don’t have much choice, my new series is due in three months and I have to have somewhere to work. I can’t be spending valuable time house hunting, so I’d have to say I’m stuck.”

  “I’d say you’re very fortunate.” Mrs. Rhyne sniffed at Kelly’s ungrateful attitude. “I’ll call Peter, I mean Mr. Barris, and let him know you’ve accepted.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Rhyne,” Kelly said as she got to her feet with resignation.

  When she reached the cottage, she went inside and found a note from Stephen slipped under the door.

  Darling, sorry I missed you. Wanted to surprise you. Will call you tonight. Love, Stephen

  Kelly felt relieved she’d missed him and was worried about what was going on inside of her. This was a man she’d said she would move in with only two days ago, and now she could barely stand the idea of being alone with him. She figured it was because she didn’t trust Stephen at the moment, and the thought of him made her stomach ache with nerves.

  She sighed. “I’ve got to get to work. I can’t stand to think about this anymore.”

  Kelly went into her bedroom, and pulled her golden-red hair up in a ponytail, her pale skin standing out against her striking blue eyes as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheekbones stood out even more now than usual and gave her a fragile air. She pulled her painting smock over her head and put on a CD of Enya’s Shepherd’s Moon. She headed for her studio, and once inside the bright white washed room she placed a large canvas on her standing easel, poured out some gesso and began coating the rough surface of the canvas. As the music swept over her, the soft sound of the brush swishing against the paint, she felt some of the tension easing from her shoulders, and she lost herself in the blessed relief of her work.

  ****

  She’d made plans to meet Gayle for dinner that evening, so around four in the afternoon she showered and changed and drove the short distance into town. As Kelly pulled up in front of the Sundowner Bar and Grill, she saw her friend standing out front waving.

  “Hello sweetie, how are you?” Gayle searched Kelly’s face.

  Kelly sighed and hugged her friend. “I’m fine really, I told you Stephen and I are still seeing each other.”

  Gayle raised her eyebrows in exasperation. “I know. Why do you think I’m asking how you are?”

  Kelly smacked her arm, and they went into the restaurant to be seated.

  The hostess was a young girl of about eighteen, and she was obviously new to the job. She dropped the menus and stumbled over the day’s specials, nervously brushing her straight blonde hair out of her eyes.

  “Would either of you ladies like a cocktail?” she asked them nervously.

  Kelly stifled a laugh as Gayle murmured under her breath that the hostess could probably use one.

  “Yes, thank you. A glass of your house cabernet please.” Kelly face was pink as she answered the waitress, trying to ignore her friend.

  Gayle was rarely embarrassed, so she was a good contrast for Kelly. Gayle was very vivacious and social. She was constantly trying to drag Kelly out on social excursions, with or without Stephen. Gayle was a slim, petite, very attractive blonde. She had her hair cut very short, but she had such lovely feminine features and big blue eyes it was very flattering.

  She turned those big blues on Kelly as she spoke. “Let’s split a bottle of good cabernet. We’ll have a bottle of the 1989 Clos du Bois Cabernet.”

  “What are we celebrating?” Kelly inquired, watching the young waitress walk away.

  “How about the fact that you are almost free of Stephen?” Gayle thrust her crossed fingers in front of Kelly’s nose.

  “Gayle, that’s mean. We are still seeing each other, so could you at least pretend to have a little respect?”

  “What? This is me trying.” She grinned.

  “Gayle, I mean it,” Kelly said, laughing at her friend.

  “Fine, so tell me, when will the roomy arrive? I take it you’re still going through with that?”

  Kelly nodded. “Mrs. Rhyne didn’t find anything else for me, but she assures me he is of impeccable character.” She did an imitation of Mrs. Rhyne voice, sniffing snootily and raising her eyebrows.

  Gayle brought a hand up to stifle her giggles. “Of course he is. What’s he like?”

  “Well, apparently he is a well-known writer, even though I personally have never heard of him.”

  “No, I mean, what is he like? Is he about a hundred, wrinkled as a prune, dragging a wooden leg behind him?” Gayle grinned mischievously.

  “Close, he is about thirty, chestnut hair, green eyes and obviously very compassionate, since he has taken pity on my predicament.”

  “What? He’s about your age, and young and virile?”

  “Well, I actually haven’t had him in for tests on that last matter yet.” Kelly smirked. “It is just a roommate situation, Gayle.”

  “Yeah, that’s what it is now, but just wait till he gets a load of you in the shower and bada boom, bada bing, it’s love.”

  They laughed and chatted and Kelly tried to keep a straight face as they ordered from the waitress. She took their food requests and hurried away, pulling nervously at her skirt.

  “You’re a disgrace, Gayle, leave the poor girl alone.”

  “Kelly, I am not laughing at her, I am laughing with her,” Gayle said with a straight face.

  “The only problem with your scenario is you’re the only one laughing.”

  “Ok, I will do better. Let’s get serious. What do you think about Stephen’s story, are you buying it?” Gayle’s face was suddenly serious.

  “Well, I’m not moving in with him, so what does that tell you? I’m just not sure I trust him anymore,” sighed Kelly. “He is of course impatient about that, but glad I didn’t just dump him outright.”

  “If you don’t trust him, you can’t live with him, therefore you should break it off for good. You’re just misleading him, making him think there is a chance.”

  Kelly frowned. “It must be nice to have my life figured out so easily. You know Gayle, there is still a chance.”

  “What chance is there, really? You sound like you cringe at the thought of seeing or speaking with him.”

  “It’s just hard to get the vision of how intimate they seemed together out of my brain, and it makes me angry at him.”

  “Well understandably so.” Seeing her friends tightening lips, she added, “Sorry, it’s your decision. You must feel more than I can tell from the outside.” Gayle smiled brightly. “How’s the painting going?”

  They both avoided the subject of Stephen the rest of the evening.

  Kelly woke early on the morning of her unwelcome roommate’s arrival. She got lazily out of bed and headed for the kitchen. She made herself some oatmeal, topped with a little milk and brown sugar, and of course, her staple of coffee. She sat down in her living room on her b
lue damask couch and savored the last morning of privacy. Her eyes came to rest on a painting of “Flaming June” by Lord Fredric Leighton. It was a sumptuous work of meticulous detail. Brilliant sun tones, and rich texture captured the still form of a beautiful sleeping woman. Under the painting was a long cottage pine- table with a seafarer lamp sitting on top. Her eyes turned to the large window at the end of the room, through which a breathtaking view of the ocean could be seen through sheer lace curtains.

  It seemed a million years ago since the first time she’d met Stephen. She’d been living in Sea Light Cliffs for two years when she met Stephen at La Petite Grill, a restaurant he managed. She’d gone there with Fred, her employer at the art gallery, to celebrate a large purchase of her paintings even though she rarely went out socially. Stephen had instantly pursued her and flirted with her during the meal. He’d convinced Fred to give him her number and called her the very next evening. She’d done her best to discourage him, and told him she didn’t date, and preferred to keep a low profile whenever possible. But his sense of fun had eventually broken through her defenses, that and his tanned Greek-god-like looks. But she had to admit, lately, Kelly had been feeling maybe she and Stephen were growing apart; maybe they were too different. So she was flabbergasted when he had proposed they move in together a few months ago.

  Against her better judgment he had talked her into it. In her current state of confusion she couldn’t imagine that she had felt Stephen a good risk. Perhaps her secluded life style was beginning to wear on her. There had been times when she would see couples walking on the beach, hand in hand, obviously madly in love with each other, and wished she’d had that kind of intimacy with Stephen. Had it just been that Stephen was there, and he’d been convenient? What if they’d never had any kind of real emotional intimacy, maybe it was nothing more than a strong physical attraction. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and decided to make preparations for her soon-to-arrive roommate.

  Peter had kindly agreed that she should keep her bedroom, and he would take the guestroom. She walked into the guestroom and stood surveying. There was an iron scroll, full sized bed with four light pine posts. She pulled back the white 19th Century-design reproduction coverlet and stripped the bed of its sheets, throwing them in the washer. She would bet money Mr. Barris had not brought sheets with him from Ireland. Kelly was basically a neat person, but she made double sure everything was in order. She swept and mopped the beautiful wooden floor until it gleamed, running a dust cloth over every chair and counter. She cleared half the fridge for Peter and collapsed in a chair. Glancing at the clock, she was surprised to see it was four o’clock and she’d worked all day.

  Kelly blew a lock of soft hair from her forehead, and noticed the giant picture windows could use a cleaning. “Ha, if he wants spotless windows he can clean them himself.”

  “I’d be glad too.” Peter Barris’s deep, good-natured voice came from behind her.

  Kelly jumped up startled, her eyes wide. She saw Peter standing outside the screen door on the back step. “I didn’t hear you drive up.” She was aware of hot cheeks.

  “Well, it looks like I arrived just in time. Cinderella seems to be quitting.” White teeth flashed as he smiled. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  He opened the door, and came into the small kitchen, his well-built shoulders and lean muscular legs made the area seem to shrink.

  She ran a hand over her messy hair, and wiped at her dirt smudged cheeks and gestured towards her messy state mockingly, “Cinderella never looked this good.”

  Peter laughed out loud, curiously taking in her pale delicate features, her soft mouth, “That’s for certain.”

  Kelly flushed again and cleared her throat. “I’ve got fresh sheets on the bed,” she stammered.

  “Is that an invitation?” Peter was obviously making fun of her discomfort, and enjoying it, he gave a big grin. “Why, just wait till I tell your step mother.”

  Her cheeks were burning as she placed her hands on her slender hips and tilted her chin up. “Are you enjoying trying to embarrass me, Mr. Barris?”

  Peter’s light green eyes looked directly into hers, and Kelly was suddenly aware of how handsome he was. Funny she hadn’t really noticed before. He had a slender but muscular build, nicely tanned arms and his short chestnut hair just lightly brushed the collar of his light blue work shirt. He also had a really nice mouth, she thought, firm lips but a ready smile.

  “Actually yes, I’m enjoying it a ton, but I do have some things to carry in so maybe I’d better do that.” He flashed a smile and walked out the door to his Range Rover.

  Kelly was glad of the respite from his direct gaze. She went about preparing some iced tea and chicken salad sandwiches for both of them. He’d probably be hungry later, and she was hungry now. Besides, it was the least she could do since he had taken pity on her predicament.

  It took Peter about half an hour to unload his stuff into the guestroom, then he came into the kitchen and gave an appreciative nod at the food layout.

  “Hope you’ll forgive me, I scarfed mine down already,” Kelly said, rubbing her stomach gleefully.

  Peter smiled. “No problem, I’m used to eating alone, mostly standing over the sink.” He sat down at the table.

  Kelly tilted her head to one side. Could it be this attractive, successful man spent many meals alone? She thought that unlikely.

  “I never seem to remember to eat when I’m working,” Kelly volunteered.

  Peter looked up from his sandwich. “Yes, Mrs. Rhyne said you’re an artist?”

  Kelly laughed at his tone. “I know, everyone who can paint by numbers thinks they’re an artist.”

  Peter leaned back in his chair. “Is that the extent of your artistic abilities?”

  She grinned and lowered her lashes. “Actually, I make quite a good living at it.” She grimaced. “Not paint by numbers, but seascapes and scenics of the Sea Light area. You know it’s quite a popular tourist haunt.”

  “Yes, that’s why I wanted a house outside of town. One week in town was quite enough. Maybe next time I’ll come at a less busy time of year.”

  Kelly said slyly, “Hope you’re not planning on booking this cottage. I won’t be so careless ever again.”

  Peter’s green eyes flickered as they gazed deep into hers. “Shacking up thing off permanently then?”

  Kelly wriggled in her chair. “Well, uh… I don’t know. Not necessarily.” She paused, meeting his jade eyes. “We’re still seeing each other, but I’m a little gun shy at the moment,” she said evasively.

  Peter nodded and stood up suddenly. “Well, I’ve got some errands to run in town, so I’ll need a key?”

  Kelly stood up awkwardly. “Of course.” She handed him a key she’d had made for him, and watched as he went out the back door to his Rover, climbing in lithely and driving hurriedly off down the road.

  Kelly spent the rest of the afternoon working on her art, and by sundown she’d had enough. She had one large painting finished, and she stood back to view her work. The painting was of South Point, a favorite spot in Sea Light Cliffs. It featured Sea Men’s Hope, an old historic lighthouse that graced the steep bluff below. Beyond the beaches she had painted stormy dark skies and black cold seas. Waves crashed violently on the jagged rocks dominating the painting. Kelly gave a chuckle as she looked at the raw emotion on the canvas before her. “Lucky I’m not a postal worker.”

  She had a shower and washed off the paint and strain of the day. She let the water run warmly down her hair to her toes, erasing the tension. She shampooed and conditioned her long wavy hair and rinsed off. Stepping out of the shower, she nearly fainted when she saw Stephen standing in the steamy bathroom holding her bath towel.

  “What are you doing here? You scared me to death.” She grabbed the towel out of his hand and hurriedly covered herself.

  “You’re being awfully bashful.” laughed Stephen, eyeing her shapely tanned legs and shoulders. �
�It’s not like I haven’t seen you before, darling.”

  “How did you get in?”

  “The door was conveniently unlocked, I half hoped you’d planned this.” His voice was husky as he surveyed her towel-clad body.

  “I wasn’t expecting you or anyone,” her voice sounded almost defensive.

  “Darling.” Stephen’s face looked sullen. “Did you forget today was when you were supposed to move in with me?”

  She paused, not quite sure how to answer him. Of course she had remembered, but she didn’t want to share that she had been partly relieved it was off.

  “I’m just surprised to see you in my bathroom,” she said, still modestly trying to hide her body.

  “I wanted to surprise you and take you to dinner.”

  “I am surprised. But maybe you could wait for me in the living room. I have to get dressed.” She tried not to sound impatient.

  “Okay, my little virginal princess,” Stephen said, stepping towards her, “Can I at least get a kiss hello?”

  Kelly hesitated and then lifted her face to him. Stephen’s kiss deepened as he felt her soft lips, and he pressed her close until Kelly pulled carefully away. “Hello. Now get out of here.”

  Stephen frowned, but turned to leave obediently, and as the door opened, and steam poured into the hallway, they came face to face with Peter Barris.

  Chapter Three

  “Who the hell are you?” Stephen’s voice was threatening.

  “Stephen, this is my roommate.” Kelly blurted, grabbing his arm to pull him back. “It’s alright, he lives here.”

  Peter avoided looking directly at Kelly, his expression blank, but he held out his hand towards Stephen. “Sorry if I surprised you, I’m Peter Barris.”

  Stephen ran his hand through his blonde hair and reluctantly accepted Peter’s grasp. “Roommate? Since when do you have a roommate, Kelly?” He looked confused.

  “You must be Stephen.” Peter gave a rough laugh. “This is not exactly the way I would have chosen to introduce myself.”