Page 136 of Painting Celia

Hector’s eyes bulged. “For real? But you’ve been doing this for years. I just started.”

León patted him roughly on the back. “Dang, I’m not old! And that’s why you need this place. Imagine if your job was just painting!”

“I want to! But she said no.”

Celia wanted Hector, and she was getting Hector! “Then we’ve got to convince her! Show her how important this is!”

Wait. Ah, shit. Help her with what she wants, lolo.

León laid a hand more gently on Hector’s shoulder and leveled a look at him. “You’re going to figure out what she wants and help her get it,” he said. Hector blinked helplessly. “Show her you can both be happy with the decision. Like, we’ll explain the different jobs you can get as a skilled artist.”

Hector’s brow furrowed in reluctance. “But she also doesn’t like that you…well, you’re not from here. We don’t know you.”

“Only time can fix that one,” León admitted. “But, see, that means she’s protective of her community. Art is good for communities! What if we showed her that your murals can help it?”

“How?”

“Improve it! Make something prettier. Tell a story about your community for everyone.”

“I don’t have a good place to make a mural right now.”

“I’ll find you one.”

Hector was wavering, hope struggling to dawn on his face. “I don’t have enough paint either.”

“I’ll get you that too. Show me where you buy it.”

•••

Celia had seen León in discussion and felt a pang as they exited. No morning talk, apparently. Maybe they’d be back soon.

She rose, bringing her cleaning rags to the front desk where Dolores was preparing to move her papers upstairs to the newly finished offices. Celia wiped her fingers with the cloth, absently watching the front door. Dolores picked up her box, then paused.

“You know that long-haired boy likes you, right?”

Celia tried hard to stop a smile. If only.

“He does,” Dolores insisted. “I’ve seen him looking at you when you don’t see.”

“He hides it well, then,” Celia answered.

She turned back to her tasks, calling her movers to confirm they would pack and deliver her home goods this weekend. The news predicted stormy weather, but Celia was bent on spending at least one night in her new home before opening. If the movers had to haul boxes in the rain, she’d just tip more.

•••

Hector and León returned armed with spray paints and tips and masks, and León took Hector to the alley at the building’s side, looking for a surface no one would mind being decorated.

“It was illegal to paint a mural on your building until like ten years ago,” Hector said.

“Seriously?”

“People painted anyway. My cousin let me help him on one.”

“Did you tag, too?”

Hector looked around before answering. “A little. But street art gets painted over. I like to make something permanent.”

León eyed the fence in the alley. It probably didn’t belong to Celia. He certainly wasn’t going to offer the side of her building! However, twenty feet down the alley sat the solution.

---