by R. L. Naquin
Or maybe he put it there for the ghost of Charlotte. That was a strong possibility , too .
Whatever the reason for the chair to be there, I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to be comfortable for once. I plopped into the chair and curled my feet under me to watch and wait .
We didn’t have more than a few hours before Elizabeth let herself in. The door slammed shut and her keys jangled from the living room .
Gordon froze .
I’d been half dozing and leaped from the chair, shaking off the grogginess and instantly on the alert. “She’s here. Come on, Gordon. Move! Go distract her .”
He shook his head to clear it and dropped his brush in the tray . “Shit .”
“Shit is right, my friend . Go !”
He bolted out the door, leaving me alone. I hit the switch on my belt and grabbed the painting. The smaller ones were still put away, so I only had to shove the big one into a spot facing the wall behind the boxes. Holding it while it was still wet kind of freaked me out, but I was careful not to either touch the paint or let the wet paint touch the wall .
Footsteps and voices came closer toward me from the hallway. I glanced around the room, frantic for something to put in the other painting’s place as a decoy. I settled on a partially finished landscape of sunflowers growing on the prairie .
I made a face. Sunflowers in Kansas were so cliché. I hit the button on my belt and resumed invisibility as Elizabeth came around the corner into the room, berating Gordon for some infraction .
She focused immediately on the painting I’d set up on the easel. “What the hell is this ?”
I stifled a giggle—though nobody would have heard it .
Gordon was quick to adjust. “Oh, that’s just a piece I work on sometimes when I’m thinking .”
She gave him a wicked side-eye. “Haven’t you spent enough time thinking? When are you going to actually do something ?”
I groaned and dropped into the chair. “My gods. Why haven’t you fired this bitch by now ?”
The side of his mouth twitched as if he’d heard me and found it funny. “Look, if you’d quit trying to micro-manage me, I’d have a lot more success. You’re very stressful, you know .”
The look on her face was hilarious. Her jaw dropped and the skin around her eyes looked strained. “I stress you? Are you kidding me?” She pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “Look, just get something done for me, okay? I have a meeting with the gallery owners on Friday. I need to tell them something .”
She turned to go and stopped. A lumpy pile beneath a wad of oilcloth had drawn her attention. “What’s over there?” She stomped across the room and pulled away the cloth, revealing the smaller, unfinished paintings in the series Gordon was working on .
“Leave those alone, Elizabeth. Don’t touch—” He stopped, his cheeks flushing .
Elizabeth held up the first two in the pile, turned them to catch the light coming in through the window. “Is this what you’ve really been up to?” She bit her lip. “They’re great, but they’re not finished. Why do you keep doing that faceless thing?” She shuffled through, laying the paintings out. “Oh, I like this one in particular. Flying bears. That’s exactly the sort of thing your fans want.” She set them down and turned to him. “They need faces, though. This is creepy as hell .”
He shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. “They’ll get faces when I’m ready .”
Elizabeth nodded. “Soon, I hope.” She stared at him for a long moment. “What aren’t you telling me?” She glanced around the room, then down at the small paintings. “Is this all there is?” She moved toward the wall opposite of where I’d hidden the current work-in-progress .
“Uh, what are you doing?” Gordon grew alarmed and glanced at my chair .
“Don’t look at me, buddy.” I spread my hands. “I’m invisible. You have to get her out of the room .”
Elizabeth pulled the cloth from the paintings leaning together. “No. No.” She pulled one out and held it up. “This one’s from 2002. I thought we sold it .”
Gordon paced behind her, his eyes frantic as she turned toward where I’d hidden his painting. “Elizabeth, I don’t…I don’t feel well .”
And then he pretended to faint .
I’d never seen something so funny in my life. This big man who resembled the hero on the cover of a romance novel swooned and sprawled on the floor .
“Oh for the love of…” Elizabeth knelt next to him and patted his cheek with the back of her hand. He came to immediately, which wasn’t too bad, considering he was faking it. She let out a dramatic sigh. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed .”
He allowed her to help him up, glancing in my direction as she shuffled him out of the room. He gave a last pathetic moan before looking away from the chair .
He was stalling her .
As soon as they were gone, I flipped off my belt and grabbed the painting of Charlotte from its hiding place. I stopped at the door and listened .
Elizabeth’s sharp voice came from down the hall in the direction of Gordon’s bedroom. “You’re out of water. I’ll get you some to take your meds .”
Meds. I snorted before I realized I was audible as well as visible. Elizabeth’s footsteps paused in the hallway, then she continued to the bathroom. I heard the faucet running, then footsteps back to Gordon’s room .
I made a run for it toward the living room carrying the wet painting as carefully as I could without it slowing me down. I cast around the living room, frantic. His decor was so stark. There weren’t a lot of places to hide a wet painting that was taller than my hip .
“Get some rest, Gordon.” Elizabeth sounded exhausted, and for a moment, I felt sorry for her again .
She was trying to do her job and her client was…difficult. Still, I couldn’t help thinking she sucked at what she did and should probably find something new to do. Her tactics might’ve worked if she were the manager for a boxer or weightlifter. Artists were a little more delicate. Bullying didn’t work .
That’s why the gods had given the world Muses .
Elizabeth’s footsteps disappeared into the studio. Gordon had been right to distract her, and I’d been right to snag the painting and run to another room with it. She was determined to snoop .
I tiptoed into the kitchen with my prize and looked for a likely spot. The space between the wall and the fridge wasn’t deep enough, and I’d likely smear the paint. I eyed the door to the garage. It might do in a pinch, but the chances of her hearing me were high .
I’d never noticed the pantry before. He’d never opened it while I was watching. The door would likely be a lot quieter than the door to the garage .
I opened it slowly, praying it wouldn’t squeak and that it would be deep enough .
Jackpot. Gordon had a walk-in pantry. I slipped the painting inside among the packages of ramen noodles, cans of soup, sugary cereal, and an industrial-sized can of soy protein powder .
I backed out and shut the door, flinching at the click it made, then snapped on my invisibility, certain she’d come around the corner any second and catch me .
I needn’t have worried. Elizabeth was still in the studio on her hunting mission. She knelt on the floor thumbing through the blank canvases Gordon kept stacked behind the easel .
“Go away, Elizabeth.” I folded my arms and watched her grumbling to herself. “He’s never going to love you, you know. Maybe if you’d shown him more than begrudging kindness, you might have helped him heal .”
She sat back on her heels and scanned the room. “Screw it.” She stood and straightened her skirt. “I swear to God, if you’re sitting around painting pictures of Charlotte, I will quit. I don’t need this stress in my life .”
I shook my head. “You’re an idiot.” For once, I wished someone could hear me when I was invisible .
Elizabeth left the room, and I trailed behind her. If she’d gone into the kitchen to continue her search, I wasn’t sure what I
would’ve done. Tackle her, maybe. While a horrible idea, it would have been satisfying as hell .
She left without my having to turn visible and get into a cat fight, for which I was grateful. Once I was sure she was gone for good, I returned to the kitchen and fished the painting out of the pantry .
Gordon was already up and moving around at the other end of the house before I could put it back in the studio without being seen. I propped it against the fridge and went invisible .
A few minutes later, he padded into the kitchen, his eyes filled with worry. The moment he saw it, he relaxed. “Oh, thank goodness.” He smiled and glanced around the empty room. “I don’t know if you’re real or just my imagination, but you are magnificent.” He picked up the painting and returned to the studio to work .
So, that explained it, sort of. He wasn’t sure if I was real and didn’t appear too worried about it, either way .
Too bad I never broke into that doctor’s office to find out what he was being treated for. I was willing to bet it was something interesting if he couldn’t trust whether or not an intruder in his home was real .
Ah, well. I’d seen him naked once. That was probably enough information without violating any federal laws .
T he rest of the week was mostly a repeat of Monday. I woke up early, cleaned up the leaves Phyllis lost, got ready for work, and went directly to Gordon’s in case Lizzy showed up. In the evening, I sat with Phyllis and watched television with her, since she didn’t often feel much like talking. Once she was asleep, I went to bed and did the whole thing again the next day .
There was no word from Mom and Hades, Grandmama was busy with her new boyfriend, and Mark…well, Mark was more than I could handle until Phyllis and Gordon weren’t taking up my entire life between them .
It would have been nice to see him, though. I missed having him right across the courtyard. I missed having someone to eat pizza with when I was too tired to cook. I missed how his hair fell over one eye. I missed watching him through my kitchen window while he built weird art projects in the courtyard .
I missed Mark .
While I watched Gordon painting for hours at a time, I had plenty of time to think about Mark—though I probably spent an equal amount of time worrying about Phyllis. At night, alone in the dark with nobody to talk to, that’s when I thought about Mark the most .
I could have called Trina or Jilly. I could have gone over to Hal’s house and had dinner with him and his wife. Parker and Kris would have welcomed me in the Underworld. In fact, I’d made a lot of friends in the Underworld and in Mt. Olympus since I’d become part of that world .
I didn’t really want to see any of them. I was losing my best friend—she’d lost so many leaves she had bare spots. My friends were great, but Mark was the only one I wanted to help me through this .
But I’d screwed that up .
Gordon would be finished soon and I’d have more time—and brain—to figure out Mark. Phyllis and Gordon were all I had room for right now .
Tuesday was a long day, since Elizabeth never showed up to pry. That meant I spent the entire day watching Gordon paint, eat, do yoga, and paint some more. The next day, exhausted from stress, worry, and lack of sleep, I dozed in the comfy chair Gordon had placed in the studio. If Gordon hadn’t yelped when he heard Elizabeth slam the door, I might have slept through it .
He ran to divert her, and I swapped the paintings as I had before. I didn’t bother to sneak it down the hall this time. It wasn’t necessary. He brought her in, she eyed the sunflower painting and threw a fit .
“Now I know you’re full of crap. You’re covered in paint, but I know those sunflowers haven’t changed. Look.” She ran a finger over the canvas and held out her hand. “Paint’s not even wet .”
Progress and passion must have emboldened him. He shrugged and fixed her with a stony stare. “So what? I told you, when you nose around, you mess with my process. If you want me to finish, you need to get out of my face.” He flipped his hair out of his eyes without breaking eye contact. “I’m Gordon Freakin’ Gordon. You don’t tell me what to paint. If you leave me alone, I’ll show it to you on Friday .”
I nearly stood up and cheered .
She took a step back, eyes wide. “I was trying to help .”
He scowled. “You’re doing a crappy job of it .”
Her startled expression turned to anger. “I took care of you. I put you to bed and gave you your meds when you wore yourself out. I babied you when you were too busy wallowing in your sorrows to fulfill the contracts I worked my ass off to get for you .”
“Elizabeth, stop it.” His voice was cold. “I was grieving. I was depressed. I know I didn’t handle it well, but dosing me with vitamins is hardly dispensing life- saving meds .”
Her hand fluttered to her mouth. “ You knew ?”
“I’m not stupid. Just sad. Did I handle it well? No. But you didn’t help me out of it, either. The shrink you took me to made things worse .”
“I’m so sorry, Gordon .”
“Just go, Elizabeth. I’ve got my own help , now .”
She blinked. “ You what ?”
He ignored her. “Come back Friday. I should be finished by then .”
She nodded. “Alright.” She turned to go. Her shoulders were slumped and her gaze fixed on her feet .
“Elizabeth ?”
She turned, a hopeful expression on her face . “Yes ?
Gordon held out his hand. “I’d like the key to my front door back, please .”
I gasped and fell into my chair. “Holy shit, dude!” I slapped my hands over my mouth as if Elizabeth might hear me. My heart filled with pride, and my chest filled with suppressed giggles .
She handed the keys over without a word and left. She didn’t walk with as much confidence as when she’d come in .
Gordon and I followed her to be sure she left. He locked the door behind her and ran a hand through his hair . “Wow .”
I couldn’t have agreed more .
T he last two days I didn’t go in as early, since Elizabeth was no longer an issue. I spent Thursday watching him fill in the rest of the painting. The flying figures turned out to be lovely iridescent fish that looked like they were made of glass or ice. The dancing circle was a ring of dryads, and the figure in the tree was some sort of angel or fairy with big white feathered wings .
Other than Charlotte, none of the humanoids had faces yet. I couldn’t imagine what was holding him up on that .
The dryads, at least, had the beginnings of rough features, so he was getting there .
Before I left late Thursday afternoon, Elizabeth called Gordon to ask when she should come over the next day. It seemed she’d taken him seriously and was acting like a manager instead of his boss .
He told her to come by around noon, which made my day. If everything went well, I’d come in tomorrow and be done with all of this. I could turn in Gordon’s paperwork and have a new client by Monday .
I even took a moment to think about what I was going to wear to Gordon’s gallery showing .
I went home elated. I’d succeeded in helping the most difficult client I’d ever had and saved his life on top of it. Phyllis looked a little better, too. Her leaves seemed greener, and the pile of dead leaves beneath her was smaller. For a brief moment, everything looked like it was going to turn out great .
Life never works that way, though. If life had been smooth for me, I never would have landed at the Mt. Olympus Employment Agency in the first place. I should have known better than to celebrate a victory too soon .
By the time I returned to Gordon’s house the next day, he only had a few minutes left to live .
Chapter 19
T hey say most accidents happen in the home. This is probably because people feel safe in their homes. Nothing bad can happen there. Outside, they’re more cautious .
So, people take stupid risks .
I came through Gordon’s front door filled with excitement for the
big reveal. He wasn’t in the living room, so I skipped down the hall to see if he was in the studio doing last-minute touchups .
He wasn’t there. The smaller pieces he’d done were by the window, leaning with their faces toward the wall. The large one stood on the easel covered by a cloth .
My fingers itched to push aside the cloth and take a peek. Without knowing where Gordon was, I didn’t want to risk turning off my belt. Though if I concentrated, I could move the cloth out of the way for a second .
I raised my hand toward the cloth, then stopped. “What, are you twelve? Just wait until he shows us.” I dropped my hand and shook my head. I could wait another few minutes .
I wandered down the hall and poked my head in Gordon’s room. Not there. Not in the bathroom, either. I frowned. I hadn’t heard him in the kitchen when I came in, but he had to be there .
The hall seemed ominously quiet now while I retraced my steps toward the living room, ears tuned for any sound, even breathing. I heard nothing but the whisper of my own feet padding on soft carpet .
The kitchen was darker than usual, and I glanced up. One of the tubes in the florescent light was out. The cover was off, and only one of its two tubes was installed. The other was gone .
Maybe Gordon had gone to the store to get a new light tube. Except, as far as I’d seen, Gordon didn’t have a car, and he didn’t drive. I frowned and wandered across the kitchen to get a better look .
When I came around the counter, I almost tripped over him .
I gasped, and my heart raced. “Oh, gods, Gordon. No, no, no…” I covered my mouth with both hands and stood over him, too shocked at first to move .
The scene at my feet told the whole story. The rickety stool overturned next to him. Gordon’s splayed body in a pool of blood. The broken fluorescent tube lodged in his side. The way the blood from his head emphasized the newly formed cracks in the tiles where his skull had landed on them .
I threw off my shock and knelt beside him. Hands shaking, I tried to check his neck for a pulse, but my concentration was shot. I couldn’t touch him in my invisible state. In frustration, I clicked the button on my belt and pressed my fingers to his skin. His pulse was faint and difficult to find, but it was there .