Page 82 of Babies at Coconuts

Chapter 58

Hope watched as one meticulous student painted a Picasso-like face on the hood using bright colors, graphic patterns, one eye, a lopsided nose, and a crooked mouth. “That’s really cool.”

Nodding in agreement, Willow gave the student a thumbs-up.

Larry-Mac nodded. “Modern art.”

“I love Picasso’s work.” Willow folded her arms. “In fact, this gives me an idea.”

Now nervous about Britney’s traditional peacock, Hope paced. I hope I didn’t steer her wrong. She’ll be so embarrassed if everyone’s art is modern.

The pizza driver’s muffler filled the air, stifling Hope’s concerns. He opened his door, grinned, and stacked four large pizzas and three two liters of Coke.

“I hope he doesn’t drop those.” Hope ran over to help and paid the driver as Willow crawled into the one dry door of her van where she retrieved paper plates, napkins, and plastic cups.

Clapping her hands to get the students’ attention, Willow said, “Clean your brushes and place them on a paper towel. It’s break time, everyone.”

Hope placed the pizzas on the hood of her Honda. “They won’t hurt this old thing.” Opening the lids, the smell of garlic, pepperoni, and sausage filled the air, making her mouth water.

Students hungrily grabbed several slices each. Sitting in a row on the curb or sidewalk facing the VW van, likely to admire their work, students held a paper plate in one hand and a soda in the other.

The janitor pushed a button on his retro boom box and “Peace Train” by Cat Stevens filled the air.

Hope noticed several students swayed to the music while pointing toward the van and chatted excitedly about their artwork.

Glancing from side to side for Britney, Hope wondered why she hadn’t yet joined the group. Crossing the parking lot with a slice of pepperoni, Hope made her way toward the back of the van.

Britney shooed her away. “Don’t look yet, Miss Truman. I’m still working.” The young student reached around the back of the van with one hand. “I’ll take the pizza, though. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Hope pointed toward her car. “There’s more pizza and soda over there.”

Britney nodded. “This is enough. I’m too busy and excited to eat any more.” She disappeared behind the van, waving Hope away.

Helping herself to a slice of sausage and green pepper, Hope motioned toward the vehicle and studied the half-painted masterpieces. “It’s going to be incredible. I can’t tell you how impressed I am with your idea, Willow.”

“It was Mac’s idea.” Willow brushed against him and beamed. “It’ll be a work of art.”

“We’re gonna have to rename her,” the janitor said. “She don’t look like Buttercup no more.”

Willow nodded. “Great minds.” She patted Larry-Mac’s leg as the threesome sat on the curb balancing pizza and soda. “I already thought of that.” Whispering, she said, “I’ve got non-alcoholic champagne, also called white grape juice, chilling with plastic flutes I found at a party store.” Winking, she added, “And the real stuff for the grownups.” She put her finger to her lips. “But shhh. We’re being rule breakers today.” She elbowed Hope. “That’s what hippies do, right? We’ll tell the kids we’re all having grape juice.”

“Brilliant,” Hope said. “That will really top off this day.” After switching to pepperoni and polishing off her third slice, she wiped her hands. “That hit the spot. I think I have a trash bag in my car.” She retrieved a bag and gathered up trash as students went back to painting. The janitor helped her toss trash in the bag. When the lot was clean, Hope suggested Willow take photos to post on Hilltop’s Facebook page.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” The art teacher clicked several pictures from different angles. When she reached the back of the van, she stopped, eyes wide.

Hope’s mouth went dry, already nervous that Britney had taken the entire back side for her canvas. After all, she wasn’t a senior, and Hope didn’t know if Britney really could pull off a peacock. I hope it wasn’t a mistake asking her to participate. Britney will be crushed if Willow paints over her work.

After Willow gawked for several seconds, Hope sat in agony, unable to swallow or even blink. Eventually, Willow snapped photos of the back and whispered something in Britney’s ear.

Practically strutting across the parking lot, Willow said, “That student of yours should be in senior art class, Hope. Britney has a great eye.”

Letting out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, Hope relaxed. “Thank goodness. She wouldn’t let me see her work until she was finished. I assumed she’d take a tiny space on the van—not the entire backside. That’s so not her nature.”

Grinning, Willow said, “I’m glad she did. Her painting is gorgeous. She’s adding tiny details now and told me she has only painted once before. Apparently, she usually sketches or doodles with pencil or markers.” The art teacher shook her head appreciatively. “She’s a natural.”

Staring toward the van, Hope said, “I can’t wait to see it. Maybe this will help Britney get art scholarships.”

An hour later, the students added their final brushstrokes, stood in the parking lot, cheered, and high fived one other.

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