Hannah reached out and touched the painting before Hunter could stop her.
“Hannah, no!”
“It’s all right, really.” Heck set the post driver against the wall. “As long as her hands are clean, I don’t mind. She’s just curious. Besides, it’s dry.”
Hannah brushed her fingertips over the swirls of color, tracing a streak of pink from one end to the other. Then she stepped in close, her face just inches from the painting.
Hunter stared in awe. The scene unfolding in dashes of paint was of a Western landscape with geologic formations, awash in reds and oranges beneath a cloudless sky. It was stunningly beautiful.
“Zion National Park,” Heck said from behind them. “My wife and I used to travel during summer break. She was a teacher, but at heart she always wanted to be a photographer. I dabbled in painting over the years, but it wasn’t until I retired last year that I took it seriously.” His eyes softened as he gazed at the photo above the painting. “Never put your dreams off, thinking you’ll get around to them someday. You never know what could happen. There might not even be a someday.”
But Heck, Hunter noticed, wasn’t looking at the photo anymore. His sights were fixed toward the window, gazing off into the distance. Certainly, Hunter had wanted to know more about Heck — he was his neighbor now, after all, and might be for years more — but this moment was almost too personal, hinting at emotional wounds not fully healed. There was only one thing to do at a delicate time like this — change the topic.
“So, uhhhh,” Hunter began clumsily, “I can run to the hardware store right now, if you want. Be back in forty-five minutes. Have your new mailbox up before suppertime. Sound okay? You can just reimburse me for supplies. The labor’s free.”
A distinct ‘V’ formed between Heck’s dark, bushy eyebrows. “Why?”
“Why what?” Hunter repeated, baffled.
“Why would you do that for me? Any handyman I know would charge twenty-five dollars an hour. Or more.”
“You must’ve come from a rich neighborhood. Anyway, folks around here look out for each other. We don’t keep track of favors.”
“Just the same, I would feel obligated to return the favor.”
“Only if you wanted to. I won’t hold you to it, I promise.”
Once again, Heck hadn’t really answered him. By that point Hunter figured he probably felt awkward asking for help, so Hunter decided he was going to do it anyway.
He was getting ready to gather Hannah up when he realized she’d drifted to another easel and had lifted up the sheet covering it. This one was of a valley filled with rows of tulips. Two gardeners were bent over the rows, gathering flowers into baskets at their hips.
Echo lay down beside her, his chin resting on his paws. Hannah began pressing her fingertips to the dabs of paint. Before Hunter could reach her to pull her hand away, she’d lifted a dry brush from the easel ledge.
He plucked the brush from her and set it back on the easel. “Come on, Hannah. We have to go to the store.”
“She can stay,” Heck said.
“What? Why?”
“I’m sure your errands will go more quickly if she stays here.”
Heck had him there. It wouldn’t be impossible, but it would take a good while longer. “Are you sure? I mean, you can’t let her out of your sight, not even for a minute.”
Heck brought Hannah a stool, then a little wooden tool box filled with brushes. He propped a piece of thick paper onto a small easel and then retrieved tubes of paint from a waist-high shelf.
“Acrylics,” he told Hunter. “They dry fairly quickly, but they’re more forgiving than watercolors. Not as messy as oils, though.”
Hannah had already grabbed a brush and was waiting raptly for Heck to squeeze the paints onto a palette for her.
“If you hurry up,” Heck prodded, as he pulled a stool up beside Hannah, “she won’t even know you’re gone. But if you’re worried, you can leave the dog here. From what I’ve seen, he’s rarely more than ten feet from her unless he’s with you.”
Hunter didn’t move.
Taking a pair of reading glasses from his pocket, Heck set them halfway down on his nose and peered at Hunter over the top of the rims. “Look, I noticed her sitting on your parents’ porch all day. She didn’t look happy. This interests her. I think if you tried to drag her away from it before she had a chance to try it, you’d have a very disgruntled young lady on your hands.”
He couldn’t have been more right. And it had been a hectic day. A few minutes by himself in the truck or at the store would be a welcome gift.
Besides, by the looks of things, Hannah had already made the decision for him.
Maybe school wasn’t what she needed to grow and thrive. Maybe what she needed ... was this.
—o00o—
Heck stood just inside the front door of Hunter and Jenn’s house, rain dripping from his boots onto the already soggy welcome mat, a pumpkin pie cradled in his arms.
“Not my best crust. It’s a little brown around the edges. I left it in the oven a few minutes too long.” He looked down at it, then grimaced slightly as he held it out to Jenn. “So I made an apple pie, too. It’s on the back seat of my car. I had too much to carry to walk here. Besides ...” — he glanced out the front picture window — “it’s a little damp out there.”
“Why, thank you, Heck. Crust looks about right to me. You’re too hard on yourself.” Jenn took the pie from him, then brought it to her nose and inhaled deeply. “Oh my. It smells heavenly. If this is subpar for you, I can’t imagine what your best is like. Maybe you should be on Top Chefs?” She ducked into the kitchen to set it on the counter, passing Hunter.
“Hey there, neighbor!” Hunter gripped Heck’s hand to shake it. Heck practically cringed at the contact, so Hunter let go. He figured when he asked him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple of weeks ago that Heck would offer up some excuse not to come, but surprisingly he’d accepted. Maybe the guy did crave some human interaction after all? “We saved a place for you at the head of the table.”
“Uh, well, I ...” Heck pulled at the fingers of his gloves, but not like he was going to remove them completely. More like he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Now, you aren’t going to beg out on us, are you? Really, everyone’s been looking forward to having you.” That probably classified as a little white lie. When Hunter told Jenn he’d invited him, she’d been a little annoyed that he’d done so without asking her first. Hunter had played the pity card, stating that he knew Heck was going to be alone that day and inviting him was the neighborly thing to do. Maura had wrinkled her nose at the news and mumbled something about ‘weird’ and ‘a loner’. Hannah had expressed little more than mild curiosity, which in her case was a positive sign. It was going to be awkward, Hunter knew that. But the only way to get to know people was to get past those initial stages. Besides, Hunter had an ulterior motive in inviting him. “You do remember what we discussed, right?”
“Word for word,” Heck said. “When do you plan on bringing it up?”
“No idea.” Hunter held out his hands. When Heck didn’t budge, Hunter prompted him. “Can I take your coat?”
“I was going to say I need to get the other pie, but it’s a veritable Noah’s flood out there.”
“There’s an umbrella in the basket behind you.”
Heck turned around to find Echo sniffing the umbrella, as if to point it out for him. “Oh, thank you.” He unfastened the snap and opened it partway. “I’ll be back in a moment, then.”
Just as he went out the door, Jenn appeared at Hunter’s side. “Okay, I wasn’t thrilled at first that you’d invited an extra guest for Thanksgiving without asking me first, but on second thought, I’m glad you did. That pumpkin pie looks and smells delectable. Did you see the fancy crust? And he’s got another pie in the car? The man must’ve been up before dawn, baking away.” She peered through the sidelight of the front door, her hand on the knob, waiting to o
pen the door for Heck. “Besides, the table does seem kind of empty without Brad and Lise taking up their usual spots.”
“It was the only opening they had to get away until who knows when.”
“Yeah, I get that. And in their shoes I’d probably have done the same thing. Anyway, makes me feel kind of good that he’s here instead of sitting alone with a TV dinner, watching the Macy’s parade. The kids should get to know him better. Maura, for one, needs to give her imagination a rest.”
Which was exactly what Hunter wanted to happen. Heck was a little icy around the edges, but beneath that cool exterior was a decent guy. He was sure of it. All he had to do was give Jenn the chance to see the same man he’d come to know recently. So far, so good.
Echo waited by the front door until Heck came back in, but Hunter suspected it was more because of the yummy-smelling food Heck was bringing in than anything.
Once Heck was settled at the big dining room table, Jenn and Maura started bringing the feast out while Hunter tried, in vain, to engage him in conversation. Heck was a master at one-word answers. Hannah performed her usual chore of laying out the silverware beside each plate in order of length — knife, fork, spoon.
The spread was impressive: an eighteen-pound turkey with orange-cranberry-walnut stuffing, garlic mashed potatoes, skillet-cooked green beans with bacon, Greek salad, flaky biscuits, and a bowl of berries and real whipped cream. Hunter was proud of himself. Admittedly, he’d gone a bit overboard, but he’d relished the endeavor. Thanksgiving dinner would usually have been prepared by his mom, but with her and Brad being out of town, Hunter had stepped in, chasing Jenn back to bed that morning so she could get some much needed rest. It was his first turkey and amazingly, he hadn’t under- or overcooked it.
Jenn scooped herself up a big dollop of mashed potatoes before passing the bowl to Maura. “Heck, Hunter tells me you’re a painter. How long have you been doing that?”
He finished chewing his bite of stuffing and dabbed at the corners of his goatee with a napkin. “Just over a year.”
“Is that all? You must have done some artwork before that — drawing, sculpting, photography?”
“No, not really.”
“Sophia took the pictures,” Hannah blurted out. She corralled her peas into a perfect circle, before herding them onto her spoon three at a time to eat.
“What pictures? And who’s Sophia?” Jenn asked Heck.
Everyone but Hannah was looking at him, waiting to hear more, but not wanting to ask anything outright. Hunter had never mentioned anything to Jenn about Heck being married before because, honestly, it just hadn’t come up. He realized now that was a mistake, information Jenn would have considered critical.
Heck busied himself slicing his turkey into bite-sized pieces. “The paintings I do are from photos my wife, Sophia, used to take.” He pointed to a serving bowl next to Hunter’s plate. “Could you pass me the gravy, please?”
Sensing Heck’s reluctance to talk about his wife, Hunter redirected the topic as he passed the gravy along. “So, Maura, when did you say your first basketball game is?”
From there, the conversation was a little livelier, although none of it involved Heck. Until he set his fork down to the left of his plate.
Hannah stood, her gaze fixed on his fork, her forehead scrunched. “That doesn’t go there.”
“I’m sorry,” Hunter began. “She —”
“No, no.” Heck raised a hand to stop him. “It’s all right. I used to be the same way, wanting everything to have a place and an order.” He glanced at Hannah’s silverware and immediately rearranged his to match. “Like this?”
Hannah nodded and calmly sat back down, then went back to eating her peas by threes.
Jenn gave Hunter a look of astonishment. He shrugged. This was his chance to get his plan back on track.
“Hannah, sweet pea, do you want to show Mommy that picture Heck was helping you paint?”
She popped the last of her peas into her mouth. “Nope.”
“Why not?”
“It didn’t turn out right.”
“Show her anyway. You might be surprised. I bet she’ll think it’s pretty amazing.”
“Okay.” She slid her chair back and ran up the stairs. Thirty seconds later she was at Jenn’s side, holding the painting in front of her.
“That is so cool!” Maura said, which in itself was a huge compliment.
At first, it was obvious that Jenn wasn’t sure what it was. Patches of blue and purple were interrupted by the faintest streaks of white. Little stars of yellow and green and orange were scattered throughout.
When she took it from Hannah and held it at arm’s length, her mouth fell open. Up close, there were patterns of color that in themselves were vivid enough to capture one’s attention. But from farther away all the bursts of color and squiggly lines came together to reveal the outline of a dog.
“This is Echo,” Jenn uttered in amazement. She complimented Hannah before turning her gaze to Heck. “How did you teach her to do this? It’s Echo, but it’s ... I don’t know, like she’s looking through a kaleidoscope at him.”
“Mrs. ... Jenn, I didn’t teach her anything. She has a gift. A rare gift. I simply gave her the tools. I showed her how to mix colors, how to load her brush, then I let her loose. This was actually her third attempt. She was quite dissatisfied with the first two. They ended up in the trashcan. I don’t think she could transfer to the paper what she saw in her mind right away. We had the paper on an easel, but the colors kept running. I had offered her acrylics, but she prefers watercolors, which are probably the most difficult to master. So finally, I turned on some Tchaikovsky and we set the paper on a flat surface and this ...” — he nodded toward the painting she held — “is what transpired.”
Jenn’s hand drifted to just above her heart. “This is amazing. Thank you, thank you.”
“Does she like Tchaikovsky?” Hunter asked.
“If insisting that I play it on a loop for three hours is any indication, then yes.”
Joyful tears flooded Jenn’s eyes. She kissed Hannah on the cheek, then handed the picture back to her. “This is much too nice for the refrigerator, Hannah. Can you set it in the living room on the side table by the front door? I’ll check to see if I have a frame for it later and if not I’ll pick one up tomorrow. And Maura, can you and Hannah fetch some dessert plates, the pies, and some extra forks for us?”
When Hannah and Maura left the room, Jenn turned her attention to Hunter. “So, when were all these art lessons going on?”
“While I was building Heck’s mailbox.”
“And that took how many days?”
It was clear to Hunter that while she was astonished at Hannah’s talent, she also wasn’t thrilled he’d kept this secret from her. He had to think quickly before this devolved into something ugly. “Just one, but he also needed help putting some shelving up and fixing a stuck window and —”
“Your husband has been invaluable to me,” Heck offered, rushing to his rescue. “I’m afraid I’m not very good with power tools. If left to my own devices, those projects might never have been completed. I offered to occupy Hannah while he was busy. It turned out rather well, don’t you think?”
Her eyebrows flicked upward. Any steam that might have been building dissipated. “It did, yes. Thank you, again, for letting her use your paints and brushes.”
Still, Hunter wasn’t sure what to make of her reaction. It seemed a little too polite.
Heck lifted his water glass as if to take a drink, but set it back down. “I should thank you, really.” When she returned a quizzical look, he continued. “Ever since I had to set up house without Sophia, I’ve been, well, a bit of a hermit and not always in the best of moods, to put it mildly. Seeing Hannah become so absorbed in using color to create the pictures in her mind ... It fills me with an awe I haven’t known for years.” Blinking, he looked away for a moment. Then, his tone intensifying, he added, “Hunter tells me Hannah had
some difficulties adjusting to a classroom setting and that you decided to withdraw her from school, but haven’t resolved the issue of what to do with her until she can enter another school next year.”
“That’s right.” She eyed Hunter sideways. “Why?”
“If you’re amenable to the idea, I’d like to step in and watch Hannah until then. It would give me something to do besides read and paint. Of course, I’d be more than willing to continue with any ongoing lessons with her. I’m no expert in early childhood education — that was my wife’s expertise, really — but I think it would be good for Hannah. And for me.”
Sitting back in her chair, she wagged a finger between Heck and Hunter. “You two have talked about this already, haven’t you?”
“Look, Jenn,” ― Hunter pushed his plate back ― “this just sort of happened. Remember how you say ‘Everything happens for a reason’? Well, maybe Heck moving here was meant to be? If Hannah has a special gift and Heck can help her unlock it, why don’t we give it a try, see what happens?”
Arms crossed, she swung her left leg over her right, her foot tapping in the air. She glanced toward the door to the kitchen, where the sound of plates being set on the counter indicated dessert was imminent.
“You could stay at your job,” Hunter added, trying to tip the scales.
Jenn gave him a piercing glare. “Laying it on a little thick, aren’t you?”
Hunter threw his hands wide. The ball was in her court now. Jenn didn’t like to be pushed into anything.
Just then the girls came into the room, Hannah carrying two plates and Maura juggling three.
Heck cleared his throat. “Take as long as you need to think about it.” He picked up his fork as Hannah set a slice of apple pie in front of him. “I’ll certainly understand if you’re not comfortable with the arrangement.”
“I don’t need to think about it.” Jenn got up from the table. “I’ve already made up my mind.”
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