Page 23 of Refraction

“Beautiful. Maybe… a little sad? And beautiful.”

“It’s the beginning of his fall.” The loss of innocence was necessary, but yeah, a little sad.

Calvin nodded. “Essential. Painful. Enlightening.”

“And it leaves marks.”

“Are you the artist?” Someone touched his arm, and he tensed, fighting the urge to snarl. The guy who stood there was his admirer in the gray sweater.

“I am.”

“I was wondering if you could tell me your inspiration for the piece that’s over here? The painting titledOdlid?”

“It’s dildo spelled backward, honey. It’s not rocket science.”

The guy blinked and raised an eyebrow, giving Tucker an up-and-down look. “Neither is being friendly.” He took two steps backward. “Asshole,” he muttered under his breath as he turned away.

Tucker’s cheeks started to burn, and he could feel Marge’s eyes on him. Lord knew, he was better than that. “Sorry, man. It’s weird, talking about your own work. I’d rather talk about damn near anything else.”

Lord have mercy, his granny would hand him his own ass.

He felt Calvin’s fingers slide over his shoulder blade and rest there, comforting. The guy turned back to him and after a brief pause, offered his hand. “It’s cool. It’s pretty emotional stuff.”

“Thank you.” He shook the dude’s hand. “I hope you enjoy and all.”

See him. See him not be a fucker. Go team him. Christ, he had a headache.

“Definitely. You’re a real talent. Sorry to interrupt.” He nodded and went right back over toOdlid.

Calvin’s arm slipped around his waist. “Breathe, tiger. Show me something else.”

“Okay. Come see this one. It’s my favorite of this show.” The canvas was tiny, only two inches square, and it was mostly stormy gray except for in the upper right corner, where there was a red slash, a hint of light peeking from behind one edge.

“Hope,” Calvin said, reading the title of the piece from the plaque beside it, looking at it for a long while, nodding and saying nothing. When he finally looked over, Calvin was biting a pink lower lip and frowning slightly.

What was he supposed to say? He didn’t expect anyone to understand. It was special. He didn’t know why. It just was.

“Some small hope.” Calvin shrugged. “Thank goodness for that, huh?”

“It’s a silly little thing. I just… wanted it here. Come on. I’ll show you the red series.”

“Sure. Okay.”

He offered his arm, and Calvin took it, but Tucker didn’t miss the way Calvin glanced back at the tiny painting as they walked away.

It wasn’t for sale. That one wasn’t for sale. It was his affectation, he guessed. His little bullshit fuck-you to everyone.

Time began to move again, and he nodded and smiled and tried not to think.

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