Page 110 of Released from the Sin Bin

We’re a few minutes late, but they happily let us join and give us aprons and two blank canvases to start.

“I’ve never been a cat person,” I say, looking at the picture we’re supposed to be painting. The silhouette of a cat perched on a cliff in front of a heart-shaped moon.

“I love cats.” Willa grabs a brush and dives in. “I used to have one. She was old when I found her, but she needed a home.”

“Cats scratch, and hiss.” I look at the disgusting figure on the sample canvas. “I don’t see what’s so great about them. I’m going to change mine into a husky. Huskies are loyal. They’re fun, and energetic.” Willa eyes me over her canvas. “Very lovable and cuddly.”

“How poetic.” She rolls her eyes.

“Some Huskies will let you ride them all night long.” I wink at her over my canvas. “After taking you out for tacos, of course.”

“Oh yeah,” she squints over at me while dipping her paint in another color, “what kind of huskies are those?”

“The hockey playing kind.”

“Ha.” Willa throws her head back in a loud laugh, making the others who are quietly painting their picture look over at us.

Clearing her throat, she settles down with her lips rolling tightly together. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for one of those.”

“You won’t have to look far.”

Her eyes snap up from the canvas to lock with mine.

The instructor comes between us, interrupting our moment to give us tips on the next part.

I’m making unspoken promises. Willing her to feel my intentions, but I want so much more than what I’m saying. I need to take it slow with Willa.

She’s been through too much in the past few months.

“What the hell? Yours actually looks good.” Willa peeks around the round table to see my painting. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

“Never.” I shrug. Who knew I could be actually good at something? My painting didn’t come out that bad. The tricky part was the distant craters in the moon and the shape of the husky I attempted that looks like a cross between a dog and cat. To make it more my own, I changed the pinks and oranges in the background around the moon to different shades of blue.

Willa did the same, but with purple.

“Let me see yours.” I lean over to take a peek.

“No.” She turns it away. “It’s so bad.”

“It can’t be that bad. Let me see.” I try to turn it toward me, but she pulls it away.

“Nope. It’s going straight into the trash.” She puts it to the side facing the wall to let it dry.

She gets up to take off her apron and I move around the table, grabbing her painting to see it.

“No,” she squeals and jumps on my back. “You can’t see it!”

“It’s just a painting. Nobody's perfect.” I fight my arms free from her hold of wrapping her legs around them. They slide down around my waist and her arms hug my shoulders.

“Don’t look,” she screeches and frantically covers my face with her hands. Ignoring her, I turn it around, peering at it through the small slits of her fingers.

“Wow,” I breathe out, taking in the picture she painted.

“It’s so bad.” Her hands slowly move from my face as she slides off my back.

“I was expecting bad.” I tilt my head to make it out better. “But I wasn’t expecting this bad.”

She gasps and hits my arm while I laugh at the painting.

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