Paint Me True

by E. M. Tippetts

  My inbox loaded and I glanced at the lefthand column, at the contacts who were logged in. Len’s name was at the top. I blinked and looked again. It was his name, all right, and next to it was a little green circle that let me know that he wasn’t just logged in, he was active. He was sitting at his computer working. I breathed a prayer of gratitude and double clicked his name. A chat window came up, but I clicked the little phone icon.

  “Hello?” It was his voice!

  “Hi.”

  “Yeah... hi.” I could hear the sound of him typing, each keystroke a hard clack, and given the speed he typed, they rattled on like a machine gun.

  I glanced at the clock. It was three a.m. where he was. “You’re up late.”

  “I’m at work. Stupid interaction issues with our anti-malware software and something else, which I still can’t find.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Eh.”

  “Listen, do you have a minute?”

  “Why? You need something.”

  “I need to apologize.”

  “Well, whatever.”

  “No, I’m serious.”

  “Okay, hang on a minute.”

  The typing stopped and I heard the sound of a door closing in the background.

  Then he was back and the typing resumed. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m in England-”

  “Yeah, I know. My cousin told me. How’s the new guy you’re dating?”

  “I’m not dating any new guy. I’m not interested in any new guy. I was... hoping that maybe you and I could... maybe try again?”

  The clacking noise of keys tapping stopped again. “Did you talk to Hattie?”

  “Huh?”

  “Or Jenna?”

  “What?”

  “Or go on Facebook or something?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Listen, you’ve got to be kidding me. You can’t be this shallow.”

  “I was shallow but-”

  “I cannot believe you’d call me, now of all times.”

  “Why is now a problem?”

  “Just, don’t even.”

  “No, I really don’t know. What are you talking about?”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “Do you have a new girlfriend or something?”

  “Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that. Obviously I’d have to, huh?”

  “Wait, what? Len!”

  The channel cut out. Len had never, ever done that to me, even when I’d deserved it and had insulted him every other sentence while I moaned about my problems. “I love you,” I said to the now silent computer.

  Louisa and the rest of the ward got a funeral planned and executed in a matter of days. I wish I could say it was touching and moving, but I hate funerals. I’ve been to too many in my lifetime. I’ve gotten to the point that I don’t participate. I was offered the chance to give a eulogy, but passed on it. I stood at the back and tried not to be too weird about it all. My aunt’s bright, vivid life had been distilled down to this room full of people who barely knew her.

  When my first aunt died, I’d been too young to really understand what had happened.

  When my mother died, I’d sobbed through the service.

  When my first sister died, I’d given a long eulogy about how she used to pick on me and how I wanted her around anyway, even if she never stopped picking on me. People had laughed.

  When my second aunt died, I felt like a veteran. I knew funerals forwards and backwards. I recognized the flower arrangements that decorated the hall.

  When my second sister died, I didn’t have the heart to do this anymore. I’d given a short speech and spent the rest of the time feeling numb and shell-shocked.

  Now I was hyper-aware of people’s glances. They were looking to me to see how they should feel about Nora’s passing. I was the one who’d been closest to her. I felt like the room was running out of oxygen again. We were in the LDS chapel building, even if Nora would not have a full LDS burial. She didn’t wear the funeral clothes, but she did lie in state at the chapel and we would probably be eating potatoes au gratin in the cultural hall afterward. Those were so much the tradition that Saints often called them “funeral potatoes”.

  I was dwelling on the food, that’s how messed up I was over all this. I wished that once, just once, I could get a big miracle that would make this easy. I reminded myself that I’d get small ones, plenty of them, I just had to be ready to receive them.

  The chapel doors swung open and in stepped Colin in a suit. His arrival was like a ray of sunshine. He panned his gaze until he found me and came over. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Thanks for coming.”

  “Of course. Hope it’s not an imposition. I heard what happened and called the house and someone invited me here.”

  “Definitely not an imposition.”

  “So how are you?”

  “Really sick and tired of burying people.”

  “You must be.”

  “I’m now the oldest woman in my family, not counting in-laws.”

  “You’re joking.”

  I shook my head.

  He held out his arms and hugged me, and that felt amazing. Louisa gave hugs, but even though I liked her more now, she was bony and had a way of digging her fingers into my shoulders that wasn’t comfortable. My father had offered to fly over, but he barely knew Nora and I knew that was quite an expense for him. I’d planned on getting through this without a good hug.

  He even kept his arm around me, which summoned Louisa over like a moth to a candle.

  “This is Colin,” I told her. “A friend of mine and one of the nurses who looked after Nora.”

  “Oh right.”

  Colin shook her hand and gave me a knowing look as she bustled back into the crowd.

  “Totally not a fair request, but can I just lean on you through this?” I asked.

  “Of course. It’s good to feel useful for that much, at least.” He gave my shoulders a squeeze and I shut my eyes as the organ began to play. I let myself zone out.

  Afterward there was a potluck, complete with funeral potatoes. Colin and I took our paper plates to the far end of the hall. “So you’re all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “You going back to the States now?”

  “Eventually. There’s still stuff with her Will to deal with. How’ve you been?”

  “Eh, all right, I guess.”

  “Just all right?”

  “Haven’t lost any relatives.”

  “How terribly normal of you.”

  He laughed. “Got the cold shoulder from a bird the other night. I think I offended her.”

  “Oh? Was this on a date?”

  “No. Was just at the pub.”

  “Were you making a pass at her?”

  “Not at all. Just answered her question and she got rather huffy about it.”

  “Well, was she with another guy or something?”

  “Not that I saw.”

  “When you went up to her-”

  “Ahem, she came up to me, if you must know. Came over and was typing on her phone, then looked at me and said, ‘What?’, and I told her I hadn’t said anything and she said, “Oh, I thought you said my name, which is Angie’, and-”

  “Oh...” I stifled a giggle. “She was making a pass at you, and you didn’t respond.”

  “I don’t think she was making a pass.”

  “You can’t possibly think that isn’t a pass.”

  “Oh what? You weren’t even there,” he said.

  “I’m female, and an artist. Can’t you sense my deep intuition?”

  “Really? You think she was making a pass?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t see it.”

  “I guess that’s better than assuming that every woman who talks to you is making a pass at you. But she was.”

  “Surely you can think of a better way to make a pass at a fella?”

  “Probabl
y not, but I wouldn’t know.”

  “You’ve never done it?”

  “I’m really bad at that kind of thing.”

  “Probably haven’t needed to do it.”

  I picked at my potatoes as I thought back to all my dateless months recently. I had just waited for guys to hit on me, which was just a little self centered.

  “Sorry,” said Colin, “did I hit a nerve?”

  “I tried to get back together with my ex and he shut me down.”

  “Ouch.”

  “Thing is, I deserved it.”

  “Naw, don’t say that about yourself.”

  “I wasn’t very good to him.”

  “So apologize.”

  “I did... But, I was really not good to him.”

  “Hard for me to believe. How bad could you have been?”

  I fumbled in my purse for The List that Hattie had written out for me. It was down at the bottom, scrunched but legible. I smoothed it against my thigh and handed it across the table. “Would you want to date someone who thought like this?”

  “Rule One, he has to ask you out three times. What’s wrong with that?”

  “That means he keeps asking after being rejected twice.”

  “Ah, right. Give good gifts. How much is fifty dollars in pounds? That’s what? Thirty pounds on flowers?”

  “Something like that.”

  “That a gift he has to offer before the first date?”

  “Ideally.”

  “Bit steep for a girl you barely know.”

  “Yep.”

  “A date is like a job interview. No pressure, fellas!”

  “Yeah.”

  He handed me the slip of paper. “Doesn’t really seem like you.”

  “Good. Maybe I’ve changed, then.”

  “So tell me about this bloke of yours.”

  “He’s just a really great person. Nice to everyone, funny, makes the world seem like a funnier place. Always made me laugh. He treated me so well. Whenever I needed him for anything, he was there and totally devoted, you know, provided I was nice to him. I wasn’t always, and he’d let me know that hurt him.”

  “Good kisser?”

  “You’ve got no idea.”

  “Guess you didn’t do much more than kiss, though.”

  “Mind your own business.”

  “Do you ever think about-”

  “Hey, getting personal here.”

  “Right. Sorry. Was he nice about the break up, at least?”

  “Total gentleman. Took me out for steak. Thanked me for the relationship and apologized for letting me go, but he knew I didn’t love him. Even let me cry. Booked a private table in the restaurant so no one else saw-”

  “Well, at least you cried.”

  “I cried because it hurt my ego to get dumped by a nerd. I ordered prime rib after that.”

  Colin frowned at me as if I had a giant boil dripping puss right in the center of my forehead.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Like I told you, I was a bad person.”

  “How long did he date you?”

  “Six months.”

  “And he broke it off?”

  “Yeah. I only kept dating him because I wanted to date someone. What he did was fair. More than fair.”

  “Did he tell you he loved you?”

  I shrank from that question. “Yeah,” I said in a small voice.

  Colin rolled his eyes.

  I didn’t bother to say, “I know,” again. Instead I just stared down at my plate. “I just want to make things right.”

  “What do you mean, make things right?”

  “I told him I loved him and groveled for another chance. I’d never treat him the way I did before. I’ve seen the light.”

  “Let me guess. He said no?”

  I nodded. “I thought maybe-”

  “You thought wrong. What are you, insane?”

  “I cried.”

  “So?”

  “Thanks.” I slouched my shoulders, like a kid who didn’t want to be called on in class. I wished I could just disappear.

  “It’s not like you don’t know how to get him back.”

  “Huh?”

  “Oh please.”

  “What?”

  He looked at me as if skeptical. “Really? You don’t see it?”

  “Don’t see what?”

  “Blimey, I’m neither a woman nor an artist, but I can see it. It’s obvious.”

  “What’s obvious?”

  He pointed at the list. “You want him back, you better pass your own stupid test.”

  I looked down at it. “Really? Would that work?”

  Colin burst out laughing.

  “What?”

  “Sorry, it’s just... are you serious? You would do this?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Definitely. Only... I don’t think flowers are his kind of thing.”

  “You’d have to modify,” he said. “You also can’t keep asking him out. Not sure if it’s the same in the States, but over here that’d be acting desperate, which isn’t attractive.”

  “So what do I do instead?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’d have to think about it.”

  “Will you? Please?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  He humphed and ate more potatoes. “Right, well, you can’t ask him out three times, but you can make it clear that you’d like to go out with him and just leave it at that. Be friendly in a non-creepy sort of way. I mean, you follow him around and he’ll just run, but if you act casual and nice to him, he’d have to be a real jerk to shut you down. Especially if you do it in public.”

  I almost choked on my potatoes. “In public?”

  “Of course. It’s the best way to go. Why, you too chicken?”

  “Yeah, but I guess I have to change that.”

  Colin looked at me appraisingly, as if looking at an x-ray as he decided whether or not he though the patient needed more treatment. “Right, well, sure. Why not? If you want help winning your fella back, count me in.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  I grinned. “Thank you.”

  He just chuckled.

  The following day, when I checked my email, Len was on. My heart lifted. He hadn’t blocked me, and I knew better than to think that might have been an oversight. This was Len. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to block me. He’d given me a chance. Now I just had to not blow it.

  I took a deep breath and pulled up a text window to send him a chat. I had to sound nice and not desperate.

  Edunmar: Thanks for talking to me the other day.

  I stared at that line. Too much? Too little? If I made a mistake, it was better that it be writing too little. That I could adjust as I went along. If I said too much, he’d block me. I hit the button to send the text.

  And then I turned away. Only, the moment I did, plink as a response came in. I turned back around.

  Hodgehog: I heard your aunt died. I’m really sorry about that.

  I looked at the clock. It was ten in the morning, which meant it was two where he was. I debated whether or not to reply at all. I wanted to, but I had to be careful. No gushing.

  Edunmar: Yeah, not a good day.

  I deleted that. Wrong tone.

  Edunmar: Thanks.

  That was better. I sent that one.

  Hodgehog: How long you staying in England?

  Hope ignited in my chest. He wanted to know when I’d be home?

  Edunmar: I’ll be home next week.

  Hodgehog: Well, have a good trip.

  Now was the tricky part. I took a deep breath.

  Edunmar: I would really like to see you again.

  When he didn’t reply for a moment, I forged ahead.

  Edunmar: But it’s up to you, of course. I’ll see you at church, at least. I’m signing off. Have a good day.

  There, I thought. Not too desperate, was it?

  Hodgehog: Have a good night.

&n
bsp; I turned away from the computer and found Louisa standing in the doorway of the office with a sheaf of papers on her hand.

  “Right,” she said, “I’ve got Nora’s Will here.”

  I didn’t bother to ask her how she found it. Louisa, I’d decided, was like a force of nature. Opposing her or trying to contain her would just wear me out.

  “And I talked to my solicitor. It’s quite clear that Nora intended you to be her sole heir.”

  “But can I change the distribution of the estate?”

  “Theoretically-”

  “If I just refuse to inherit, will my cousins automatically inherit everything?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t know, but you will need a solicitor to sort all of this out.”

  “Fine, can yours do it?”

  “Do you know how much is at stake here?”

  “I don’t care.”

  “Thirty million pounds.”

  “Mmm.” I shrugged.

  I heard the front door open and Johnny’s kids come tumbling in. He herded them on through the kitchen and out into the backyard, where they hollered and shrieked and ran around. Keeley, Johnny, and Bea’s voices all stayed in the kitchen. The sound of chairs scraping let me know they’d sat around the table.

  “You want tea?” Keeley called out to us.

  “Herbal tea,” said Johnny.

  “Thanks. Sure.” I got up. “It’s better if they don’t even know.”

  “Not possible. The Will’s a public document.”

  “Well, fine. Whatever. Tell me what I have to sign and let’s be done with it.” I moved past her and went to join my cousins in the kitchen.

  “So I wanted to ask you,” said Keeley, when I walked in, “about this gene I should be tested for.”

  “Yes, would it affect my girls?” Johnny asked.

  “Everyone should get tested,” I told them. I launched into my lecture about what the BRCA mutation was and how bad the family cancer legacy was. I told them about how many relatives I’d lost and how unusual Nora had been, living as long as she did.