Page 28 of Painting Celia

She didn’t look back up. “No, I mean being kind, asking to eat. You didn’t have to do that.”

Kind? His own cheeks felt a little warm. “Well. You were sort of wound up, weren’t you?” She nodded. “You spend a lot of time wound up, I think.”

Her shoulders tensed, but she looked up at him. Her face was slipping back to serious.

“I do okay,” she said.

He shook his head. “I want to teach you something I do. It can help.”

Her shoulders straightened, at once eager and tense. “Help paint?”

“Help everything. Here, stand up.”

As she stood, he reached out, positioning them across from each other, one arm’s length away. He dropped his hand, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and went still. Finally, he exhaled, and his shoulders dropped.

“You did this the other night,” she said, voice soft. “Before you started painting.”

“I do it a lot,” he agreed. “Now, follow along. Close your eyes. Relax. Tranquila.”

“What does that mean?”

He peeked through slitted lids, checking what she was doing. Her eyes were closed, her shoulders down, but she wasn’t trying. “It means ‘be calm.’”

Her brow furrowed, not tense but concentrating. Jesus, no one should have to work so hard just to feel! In his family, emotions had been so rampant that the struggle was to keep them from boiling over.

“Think of a calm place,” he said. “Do you have one?”

Her brows furrowed in thought. “Floating in the pool at night, I guess?”

“You swim at night?”

“Sometimes.”

Getting off track. “Fine. Imagine you’re in the pool. How does that feel?”

“I….” Light anxiety crossed her face, and she stopped.

Great. Celia needed to be led step by step. “I’ll help. You’re floating. It’s dark. You’re alone.”

Her face softened. When concentrating on a task, her defenses seemed to fall away. It soothed his irritation. Maybe she could do this.

“How do you feel? Warm or cold?” he asked quietly.

“Warm.”

“What do you hear?”

“The water, lapping.”

He paused to let her really imagine it, watching to see how long she could go before thinking. When she fidgeted, he leaned in.

“Is there a scent?”

Her face lifted lightly. “Chaparral.”

“What do you see?”

“Stars. Palm trees.”

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