Page 57 of Between Now and Always

“Let me see it?” Joe asks and she hands the phone to him before I can protest. It feels like being stripped naked in front of everyone.

I painted it for him. It’s ours. Wow that we’re not - or can’t be - what we were in that picture, it feels wrong to share it.

Jack and Porsha are engrossed in whatever conversation they’re having and don’t look up.

“Wow, Beth. This is incredible. And huge. You paint those other ones so fast. This must have taken a long time,” Joe says but his eyes are tinged with concern and he’s looking at Carter who’s staring at the floor now that his phone isn’t in his hands.

Penn takes the phone from Joe and they exchange a look I don’t understand before she looks back at the painting. Her elegant fingers trace the screen and she shakes her head.

“I can feel you thinking mom. Just say it,” Carter snaps and her eyes narrow in annoyance at his less than polite tone.

Her lips pucker and twist before she hands him the phone. He takes it and tosses it on to the couch next to him without looking at it again. That flippant discarding of it hurts more than anything else he’s done today.

“We should see about getting it - the original,” Penn says trying to brighten the mood.

I smile at her grateful for the effort, but shake my head. “My father would never let me have it. I hate not having it, but honestly, for me the best part of those paintings in the process of creating them. It changed my life.”

Carter just looks at me, and his expression is blank in way that makes my gut twist.

“I painted another one, just him by himself,” I tell her.

“It’s just a shadow of the original,” Carter says, and Jack narrows his eyes at him.

I’ve had enough of whatever is going on with him.

“Carter, what’s wrong?” I demand.

“Nothing,” he says, but the dour cast to his voice tells a different story.

“Joe, I have this great book on the history of Crown Heights in my library, I’d love to show you,” Penn says and Joe blinks at her in confusion before he smiles and stands.

“I’d love to see it, lead the way.” His exaggerated eagerness is nearly comical. But when he smile reassuringly at me before he curls his lip at Carter, I want to cry.

“What’s the matter Did you have afight?” Jack scoffs and drops down on the couch next to Carter, scoops a handful of almonds from the bowl in front of him and pops one into his mouth.

“Why are you such an asshole?” Porsha glowers at him.

He glares right back. “At least I’m not sitting here pretending that this isn’t fucking weird.” He turns to look at me, his expression dispassionate.

“I’m glad you’re back in his life, Beth because he’s actually happy for the first time in a long time. But I’m also worriedbecausehe’s so happy. You two have a fine line to walk. And now that he’s about to be the “It” guy, everything will be watched. Your story won’t stay a secret. And when it comes out, every public interaction you’ve had will be scrutinized. So, I’m just saying, be careful. Because we’re all attached to the same chariot. If it goes up in flames, none of us will walk away unscathed.”

He stands. “I’m going to smoke a joint. Porsha, you’re terrible company. But, since you’re the only one who hasn’t taken the hint that we’re giving them space, I’m inviting you to join me.”

“How anyone in the history of people has ever found you charming is beyond me,” Porsha says, but stands. She squeezes my shoulder and follows his out onto the small balcony leaving Carter and me alone.

The air pulses with tension and I know I wasn’t misreading that whatever he’s angry about has to do with me.

“Carter?”

“Yeah?” He responds like he’s preoccupied but, he’s just sitting there, staring at his hands. He’s hurting, I can feel it. I walk over and sit next to him.

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly so that no one else can hear.

He leans over and presses his lips to my ear “I hate sitting across from you.”

My breath hitches, each word hitting my heart like an iron tipped whip, confirming my fears.

I lean back, needing to see the truth in his eyes. His eyes are green points of pain and possessive need and my lacerated heart slams against my chest.

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