Page 42 of Painted

“The kind who wants to see how well this class is getting on so that she can make an executive decision about whether we should offer it again in the winter session,” Janice said.

“You can’t argue against that,” Leslie said to Violet in a murmur.

The two of them laughed.

Paradoxically, that put Early at ease. Even when Janice started a lap around the room, glancing alternately at the paintings the class was working on and at Early, Rhys following her.

“Do you really have to do this now, Mum?” Rhys asked, exasperated. “If it’s an evaluation you want, couldn’t you wait until a class when we don’t have a live model? This is Early’s last class anyhow. You could have waited.”

Early tensed, losing the smile that had begun to play across their face. Their last class? Did Rhys want to get rid of them? Just like that?

It took another few, heart-pounding moments before Early remembered the gig was only for three classes. Rhys had another model coming in on Thursday to give the class a chance to work on something different.

“I don’t like to wait, dear,” Janice said, then leaned close to Violet’s painting. “Ooh. Very nice. You’ve captured them exquisitely.”

“Uff. It’s amateur work at best,” Violet replied, then sent Early a wink.

Part of Early wanted to know what the two of them were talking about. A bigger part hoped they’d never have to see the images the class had created of them, ever. It was bad enough to sprawl there, all of their disappointments and shortcomings on display. It was another entirely to have to look at images of that. Images that would last forever.

“Breathe,” Rhys said, suddenly standing just behind Early’s shoulder. “You can do this. Just ignore Mum.”

“Janice isn’t the problem,” Early said before they could stop themself.

They felt Rhys tense beside them, even though they could only glimpse part of him out of the corner of their eye.

A moment later, Rhys walked in front of them, almost brushing them with their hand as he went. He continued on, but instead of going to look over someone’s shoulder at their painting, he took a seat at the easel he’d claimed as his own and picked up a brush from the rolling table by his side.

At first, Early didn’t think anything of it. Rhys had been working on his own painting during the class, which he’d been using to demonstrate various techniques he was teaching the class. But as soon as Rhys settled in, looking at Early like he would take in every detail, Early caught his breath.

Rhys looked so sorry. His expression said more than words could. Regret was painted in every line of his face, even in the way his shoulders slumped a bit and the way he sat uncomfortably on his stool. He was right in Early’s line of vision. They couldn’t avoid the conversation that Rhys had just started.

They didn’t know what to do about it. They didn’t want Rhys to feel bad because they were inadequate.

Before Early could decide what to do, Janice stepped up behind Rhys and took a look at his painting. She didn’t make a comment, but she hummed as if what she’d seen on the canvas was interesting.

“Mum, do you mind? I’m trying to work,” Rhys said, dragging his gaze away from Early to frown at her.

“I can see that, dear,” Janice said, smiling at Early. She definitely knew what kind of work Rhys was trying to do. “You have a beautiful subject to work on,” she went on.

“Yes, I know,” Rhys said, turning his gaze back to Early again.

Heat began to spill through Early. It was dangerous for so many reasons, not the least of which was what it would do to his body if Rhys looked at him in the wrong way. Or maybe in the right way. They absolutely did not know anymore.

“Carry on,” Janice said, patting her son’s arm, then stepping aside so that she could look at Early herself.

Early didn’t know where to put his focus. They wanted to keep up the nonverbal conversation they’d started with Rhys, even though they didn’t know what to say or how to say it. All they knew was that it felt like maybe things could be okay again, if they just did things right. Having Janice Hawthorne watching while they tried to figure out how to be mature and put their complex feelings into words for the man they’d messed things up so badly with was next to impossible.

“You’re doing fine, love,” Janice said.

It took Early a second to realize she was talking to them.

“Posing for a class like this isn’t easy,” Janice went on. “It requires courage that not many people have. But look at how much joy you’re bringing to people and how much beauty you’re putting into the world.” She gestured to the classroom in general, but her gaze ended on Rhys.

Rhys was focused on his painting for the moment and didn’t catch what his mum was truly saying. Early thought they understood, though. They smiled and relaxed as much as they could without shifting their pose too much.

They wondered what their life would have been like if they’d been born a Hawthorne and not a Stevens. Janice and Robertwere two of the most accepting people they’d ever met in their life. They’d created such wonderful people in turn. Rhys wasn’t the only Hawthorne who Early was in love with. It was a different kind of love, but he didn’t know what he would do without Rebecca, or even Nally.

The Hawthornes had given them the courage to do what they were doing now. Without them, they’d probably still have short hair and wear football jerseys just to fit in with the other men their age. They’d still be Earl.

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