Page 157 of Black
“What hat?” Darren asked.
“Aren’t you trying to look like the mad hatter from Alice in Wonderland?” Daniel snickered.
Darren looked down at himself and pulled at his vest. “It took me a long time to put this splendid outfit together and I really feel I nailed it, wouldn’t you agree?”
Violet and I agreed enthusiastically. “You look very good,” I said and meant it.
Violet leaned closer. “And you know, Darren, with an outfit like that you never have to worry about that awkward moment when you realize someone else is wearing the exact same thing.”
Bruce gave a discreet laugh and covered his mouth. “That’s a good point,” Darren said and squared his shoulders. “I was a little afraid of outshining the star of the show, but your dress is to die for.” He ran his eyes down my dress. “I mean, a little more fluff and a few more details in the back would have made it even more astonishing, but you carry the dullness so beautifully,” he said with that rude humor of his.
“Thank you, Darren.” I gave him a large smile. “You’re too kind.”
“I was just admiring your gifts,” Bruce commented and pointed to the house. “Who bought the paintings for you?”
“What paintings?” I asked and looked up.
“Your paintings,” Bruce said, puzzled. “Didn’t you see the gift table yet?”
I felt my heart miss a beat and pulled up the skirts of my dress. “Excuse me,” I said and headed for the house. Both Bruce and Gabriel followed and stood right behind me when I faced a large table in the living room where the presents were placed in all shapes and sizes. But right there against the table stood all five of the paintings that I had made in the camp – the ones I had sold at my first art show at Darren’s gallery.
My hand flew to my mouth as I saw my own mental journey portrayed in the paintings. There was the depressive girl sitting in the black and yellow jumpsuit with her dark hair covering her face and her arm protectively shielding her from the swarm of bees about to attack from above.
“Who are they from?” Gabriel asked out loud and started looking for a card.
I squatted down in front of the painting of me lying in water with Gabriel’s hands holding me up and covering my private parts. It symbolized the way he had carefully bathed me and carried me around.
“I don’t see a card,” Gabriel said, while still looking around for it.
I moved on and gently touched the painting of me in a tutu skirt balancing a cotton candy and remembered how awful I had felt about wearing that damn pink outfit and how Gabriel had made it bearable by joking with me and calling me Candy and Sugar. He still did.
“This is the best gift ever,” I said in a brittle voice and turned my head to the painting of me shedding the blackness to reveal my Superwoman suit underneath.
“I know…“ Gabriel looked at me. “I wanted to buy the blue painting at the gallery, but it had already been sold when I got there.”
“Darren said it was a collector,” I remembered. “I can’t believe they’re all here.” These were the most personal paintings I had ever created, and it had pained me to sell them.
I looked up at Bruce. “Was it you?”
He chuckled. “I wish it was me, but I don’t have that kind of money. I’m afraid I only brought you a vase.” He pointed to a square gift to the left.
I got up and took a step toward Bruce. “You’ve given us something much more precious than anything on this table. If not for you and your interventions I don’t think we would be celebrating our wedding today.”
Bruce swallowed before he looked away and took off his glasses, polishing them on his sleeve. “Yes, I’m glad to see that last intervention helped you,” he said softly. “I’m glad you decided to dress up as Black one last time.”
Gabriel smiled. “Yeah, it worked. When you first suggested it I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it, but it turned out that once I looked into Cia’s eyes, her hair and make-up made no difference.”
I looked from Gabriel to Bruce and back again. “Wait a minute… what are you not telling me?”
Gabriel took my hand. “It’s just that I called Bruce for some advice on how to convince you of my love and he suggested making love to you as Black.”
I returned my glance to Bruce. “You’re like a damn puppet master, aren’t you?” I wasn’t mad at him; after all, his intentions had been good and the results were in our best interest.
“I still don’t think your methods are legal,” I said and elbowed him.
He responded with a secretive smile.
“Oh, there you are,” Katie called out from the French doors… “It’s time for the groom’s speech. Come join us out here.”
