Page 26 of Five Years
The artist created the painting hoping to capture the essence of Lake Michigan, and it would’ve served as a beautiful memento for any art lover. Leah wouldn’t categorise herself as one. She appreciated the skill and creativity of artists and stared in wonder when visiting galleries and museums throughout her life, but she didn’t have the in-depth knowledge others had. However, it wasn’t the desire to remember the trip that encouraged her to buy the painting—it was the resemblance to something. But what?
She stared at the painting for twenty minutes before deciding to fork out the small fortune to purchase it. Grace encouraged her with a wry smile, which Leah found strange. Leah alsobought a new notebook from a local bookstore—she already had four, but her large, scroll-like handwriting meant she filled pages at an accelerated rate. Grace purchased a new toy to keep Ezra entertained: a stuffed block of cheese with small legs and little blue eyes.
Grace’s dad and brother had decided to take the twins fishing. Kathy, the evil step-monster, took herself for an unearned spa day with Ryan’s wife, inviting Ariana—who politely declined. Ariana had some work to do and stayed behind. It was definitely an excuse, but Leah couldn’t figure out whether it was to avoid time with her or simply to avoid Kathy.
Leah perused the small section of homemade skincare items and essential oils.
“Smell this,” she said, practically rubbing the soap under Grace’s nose. It had a coconut base, which made Leah froth at the mouth. She loved coconut.
She looked at the aromatherapy benefits of each item she admired. The woman who owned the store kindly advised which ingredients promoted relaxation. Leah loved a soothing atmosphere at home; nothing was more appealing to her than an evening spent in a wonderfully fragrant bubble bath, with soft music, candles, and enough pampering to resemble a spa experience. She used to do that with Ariana—every Sunday—that was their night.
“Do you want to talk to me about yesterday?” Grace probed.
“What about it?” Leah reached for the herbal tea; the bright orange box promised energy-boosting powers.
“You know what I’m talking about...the fudge feeding, the longing gaze, the tension I could’ve jumped up and down on like a bouncy castle,” Grace’s eyes widened to emphasise her point.
“There was no longing gaze or tension, you just walked in at an inopportune time.”
Leah added the stress-relief herbal tea to her little wicker basket—the conversation suggested she might need it.
“Ariana already told me there was a longing gaze,” Grace countered.
“She did?” Leah spun her head to the left, the surprise on her face obvious.
“No, but now I know there was,” Grace smirked.
“I hate it when you do that!” Leah sulked.
“Your face is about as transparent as that window. You really should learn to hide your emotions better,” Grace laughed.
“Look, there was no longing gaze, some tension maybe, but that’s expected when you’re cooped up in a lake house with your ex,” Leah shrugged.
“You’re telling me it’s a coincidence that you stay behind, Ariana stays behind, and I come back to find you both eye-fucking in the kitchen?”
“Grace!” Leah pulled her by the arm away from the older lady who was desperately trying not to show the distaste on her face after overhearing their whole conversation.
“Nobody was eye-fucking anyone,” Leah whispered.
“It felt like I walked in on the first five minutes of a porno.”
“There was absolutely nothing porno-related!” Leah was adamant.
“The sexy lake house owner and the delivery woman casually dropping off a box of fudge to the wrong address—it would be a hit,” Grace taunted.
“How much porn do you watch?” Leah questioned, trying to keep her voice low as the store grew busier by the minute.
“You try growing another human inside your stomach that messes with your hormone levels daily, then throw in a husband that works away. I had to satisfy my needs,” Grace smirked. “Besides, a ripped man with a penis bulge bigger than the Eiffel Tower is much more appealing than Jonathan’s dad bod.”
“Erm, for you maybe. I’d rather eat a jar of pickles.”
For context, Leah hated pickles. The slimy, shrivelled vegetables soaked in vinegar made her body shiver. If you Google ‘pickles are...’ the search engine throws up some interesting suggestions—
Gross
