Page 88 of All I Ask
Derek laughs and shrugs. “I thought she should be prepared.”
“How noble of you.”
“I’d be happy to keep Mrs. Stinkers when she’s closer to her due date.”
I roll my eyes. I didn’t want a cat to begin with, now to find out we may end up with a litter of kittens and the cat. Freaking kid. She’s lucky I love her so much.
“You can keep her longer. Think of it as a gift from me…like a mascot for the office.”
Derek shakes his head with a smile. “You’re too kind, but I think your daughter really needs a cat. It’s imperative for kids to have pets.”
We grew up so differently. He had so many animals, mostly because his father was fixing them, whereas I had none. I feel pretty okay with the fact that I didn’t have anything else to take care of. My weekends were for cheerleading and stupid boys.
Maybe I should get her two cats…
“You might have a point.”
He leans back with that shit-eating grin that looks sexy on him. “I usually do.”
The rest of the evening is very sweet. We have a great dinner—well, an edible one—and we talk about the past. A lot of old memories where we did stupid things and thankfully didn’t get caught. It took my mother almost two years to figure out I snuck out to meet Derek on the beach most nights.
It was our thing, though.
The time when the rest of the world faded away and we were just two friends on a beach.
“Tell me more about your painting,” he says as we finish another glass of wine.
“What about it?”
“Why aren’t you selling them?”
I sigh. “I don’t want to share them. They’re just for me.”
It’s not that I don’t think they’re good, because I do, but then I think every painter thinks that. If I didn’t love them, I wouldn’t create them. Those paintings are my art, my soul, my truths all laid out for someone to see. Giving that to another to judge is…terrifying. I’m not that brave. I’m still trying to figure out what the story I’m painting really is. Is it my sadness? Or is it the hope of what I think the world could look like on the shore?
“I think they’re beautiful.”
My heart swells with pride from his compliment. Nina and Chastity always tell me they love them but there’s something different about it coming from him. “Thank you.”
“I’m not just saying it,” he insists.
“I didn’t think you were.”
“It’s the perspective of the painting. It really shows so much and the colors are vivid but not so in-your-face that you don’t know where to look. I felt like you were showing me something that I’ve seen so many times, but never really understood. You have an amazing talent, Teagan, and you should share it with the world.”
“I don’t think you understand. I’ve failed at pretty much everything in my life. I don’t need one more thing to not be good enough at. For now, it’s an outlet that I love.”
He shakes his head. “You aren’t failing at anything. You’ve done an amazing job with your life, and your paintings are another thing that you should be proud of.”
I place my hand on his and he stops talking. The two of us look down at where we’re joined. His other hand covers mine and my breathing slows. It’s like everything in the room around us fades. We’re the only thing in this moment that exists.
I’ve seen it in movies and listened to Nina describe it in books and thought it was lame, but here it is, happening to me.
Derek has always made things come into perspective for me. He was the grounding force in my life when I had him. That’s why it hurt so damn much to lose him.
But he’s here now. He’s touching me, holding me steady, and keeping me from floating away. When he speaks of my art, somehow understanding what it is even when I don’t, it’s indescribable.
It’s like drifting but being tethered, bringing me back in when I go too far. He pushes me outside of the bubble I’ve put myself in, and it’s scary and yet I’m not scared. How can this still be us? How can all this time have passed, but he is still the man who understands me at my core? After the years we’ve been apart our connection should’ve been broken, but it hasn’t.
