August felt her guard go up. It was an involuntary reaction like sneezing, and she regretted that’s how she was wired when Kelly’s happy expression dimmed. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not…dating at the moment,’ she said. She focused on the paper again.
‘Oh, sure. Sure,’ Kelly said, hurriedly. ‘I get it. I wasn’t prying.’ She picked up the pale-pink paper again and turned it over. Then she grinned. ‘Well, yes, I was, but I wasn’t trying to be a pain in the ass. I was just…well, I just wanted you to know that my brother is an amazing man. A good man. He’s kind, he’s funny, he’s…well, not to sound gross, because he’s my brother and everything, but he isn’t hard to look at. And I guess I just wanted you to know that he thinks the world of you. Already. And that’s odd, because Jack usually wouldn’t run his mouth about someone he has no shot with. In fact, I can’t really remember him running his mouth like this about anyone.’
August bit her lip to bring her mind into focus. To distract the girl, she grabbed the paper and said, ‘You really like this pink, don’t you?’
Kelly laughed. ‘I guess. Why do you say that?’
‘It’s the second time you’ve picked it up and held it. What about some personalised stationery? On me. To make it up to you that I soaked you in apple cider. What theme would you like?’
‘Oh…’ Kelly pretended to think. ‘How about irises?’
August shook her head, smiling. ‘Something tells me I can handle that request.’
‘There you are!’ Jack said and they both jumped as if caught in the act. Of what? August wondered. Talking about him.
‘Here we are!’ Kelly said.
‘I have wood glue,’ Jack said, waving the bottle. ‘You two need more time?’
‘No,’ August said quickly, though it didn’t escape her that she’d really enjoyed her time with the Murphy siblings. It had completely rerouted her mind from the panic attack over her false Kendall sighting. ‘I have to be getting home. I have a lot of art to do and limited time to do it.’
August made herself a cup of tea when she got home. She unpacked her market purchases and tried to still her mind and her heart. Both were racing.
The walk back to the car had been full of banter and fun and she’d truly felt an ache in her chest – the part of her that had once been truly alive, no doubt – when she’d said her goodbyes and driven off.
Now, in the safety of her own home, she faced a wall of canvases in various stages of completion and sighed. ‘I have to finish you. All,’ she told them. Her eyes were drawn, due to the emotional turmoil of the day, to the canvas depicting the fiery water that represented her loss of Aaron.
She remembered Jack’s fingers hovering close to the paint and then him reading her body language perfectly and stopping before he touched it. He was in tune, she thought. He was observant.
She changed her clothes, tied her hair up and rolled up her sleeves. Then she dipped her brush in a paint so deep purple it was nearly black, and went back to her iris. This one was in shades of deep purple, black and hints of grey and white. It was her favourite so far and she threw herself into giving it her full attention.
In the background Jack White sang of dead leaves on the dirty ground and she let her tea go cold as she worked. When the doorbell rang, the sky was a shade of purple found in her iris and she realised not just the tea was cold. The house was. At six the heat was set to automatically dip to 62 degrees unless she kicked it up. She usually remembered, but she’d been so lost in her art she’d forgotten.
‘Coming!’ August yelled. Then she pushed the button until the digital readout said override and turned the heat up to 69. Then she hurried to the door, frankly expecting a nosey and peppy Carley on the other side.
‘Oh!’ she said, softly, when she opened the door to Jack. Jack looking sheepish. Jack with his hands tucked deep into his pockets against the cold.
‘“Oh”? That’s bad. Sorry, I shouldn’t have come,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’ He turned on his heels as if to go and, without thinking, August reached out and snagged his jacket sleeve.
‘I’m sorry, Jack,’ she said. ‘I was expecting Carley. She’s the only person who stops by without letting me know. And it just threw me is all. I hope I wasn’t rude.’ August noted with satisfaction that her hands were steady and her breathing almost so.
He shook his head and smiled at her. The smile went right to that cold dead spot that seemed to live in the centre of her chest, and warmed it. ‘No. I was rude. I should never have stopped by without calling. You just seemed…on edge when we first ran into you. So I wanted to stop by and check the tree because frost is coming tonight. I figured while I was here I’d check on you.’ He nudged a chip in her concrete porch with the toe of his boot. ‘But mostly I wanted to check on you, so that was partially an excuse wrapped in a lie.’
I just wanted you to know that my brother is an amazing man. A good man. He’s kind, he’s funny…Kelly’s voice was suddenly in her head and she surprised herself again by tugging that jacket sleeve and saying, ‘Why don’t you come in? I have tea or coffee or hot chocolate. Something warm. It’s downright raw out there tonight.’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t want to intrude.’
‘What intrude? I was lost in painting. My house is freezing because I forgot to turn up the heat, and I need something hot anyway. Just as easy to make two as one.’
He looked uncertain. Like he’d inserted himself into her day and shouldn’t have. Truth be told, August thought, she might feel that way if it were anyone but Jack at the door. His excuse seemed plausible and just like him. She couldn’t begrudge someone kindness. She’d shut herself away from kindness for far too long. It was starting to dawn on her that she was punishing herself into a sad, tightly closed life. And that hurt.
It’s also not what Aaron would want for you…
That thought came as an utter shock and she tried not to let it show on her face. When he took a step inside, her body relaxed but her nervous energy skyrocketed. Mostly because she was just now realising how very much she’d wanted him to come in.
‘Come on. Let’s warm you up.’ She knew it was a double entendre in a way, and found that she didn’t care. ‘Coffee, tea or –’
‘Me?’ Jack piped in. He grinned and then his face went serious. ‘Sorry. Friends. I know. I get it.’
Her lack of laughter wasn’t because he’d upset her. It was because she realised she’d been about to jokingly answer, ‘Yes, please!’
‘I’ll just have whatever you’re having. Two of whatever’s on the menu.’
‘You know what?’ she said, feeling flustered as they walked into the kitchen. ‘I saw you got Chai today. How about a sorta vanilla Chai latte?’
‘Sorta?’ He was staring at a stool and August waved her hand at it.
‘Sit, sit. Yeah, sorta because I can’t really steam the milk, so vanilla, Chai tea and some warm milk. It’s really good.’
‘Sold.’
She chattered about his sister, her sense of humour, how bad she felt spilling on her, and the stationery she was going to make for Kelly by way of apology.
‘You don’t have to. She’s not a grudge keeper,’ he said. He was spinning her salt and pepper shakers on the countertop. It occurred to August he might be as nervous as she was.
‘I want to. I love doing personalised stuff. I love a good challenge.’