“There you are,” I said, warmth for her spreading through me. She’d been painting all day…
She turned, a look of surprise on her face, her chestnut hair loosely up in a bun, her green eyes wide.
“Drake!” she said and came right over to me.
I kissed her cheek, one hand on her waist, pulling her against me. She kept her arm with the paintbrush away from her body, and leaned against me, her cheek pressed against mine.
She pulled away. “What time is it? Are you home early?”
“No,” I said with a laugh. “I’m late. It’s nine.” I smiled at her. “You haven’t even dressed or had a shower?”
“No,” she said and turned back to her painting. “I’ve been working since I got up. I’m just about finished so I didn’t want to stop. We only have a few weeks left and I wanted the paintings I’ve been working on to be finished before we go so I can ship them.”
I turned to check out her painting, half-expecting to see some vista from her safari, with elephants or antelope, but instead, it was of her father.
Ethan McDermott, former Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of New York. Now a rehabilitation patient, recovering from a stroke that left him temporarily paralyzed on one side.
“It’s Ethan,” I said in surprise.
“Yes,” she said and cocked her head to one side. “I’m doing it for Elaine for her birthday. What do you think?”
“It’s fantastic,” I said truthfully, for it was. “Have you been painting all day? When did you start it?”
“Yesterday morning.”
I opened my eyes in wonder. In the painting, Ethan was seated in an old wooden chair behind his great oak desk, a framed photograph of a UH-1 “Huey” helicopter in the jungles of Vietnam on the wall behind him. Ethan was wearing a tuxedo with a black bowtie. I recognized the photo Kate was using for her subject. It had been taken before the New Year's Day levee Ethan went to.
That New Year's Eve, Kate and I got back together after a temporary break up due to meddling friends and misunderstandings. I gave her my belated Christmas gift of a single diamond teardrop necklace, which symbolized for me how serious I was about her.
That seriousness had never waned, for even a moment since. It had only intensified.
“It’s really very good. Better than good. It’s totally professional. Like you’d find in a bank boardroom or lining marble hallways.”
“That’s the effect I was shooting for,” she said and stepped back farther from the canvas. “I want it to represent how dignified he is underneath the rough exterior. He really is very distinguished even if he looks like a drill sergeant with that haircut.”
I laughed and went up behind her, my hands circling her waist, my chin resting on her shoulder.
“He’s extremely smart. His daughter is a chip off the old block.”
Kate twisted around in my arms and smiled, slipping hers around my neck.
“I’m sorry I didn’t fix anything for dinner.”
I tried to kiss her but she dodged my lips, so that I ended up kissing her ear.
“Don’t kiss me,” she said and covered her mouth. “I’ve been drinking coffee all day.”
“We’ll reheat leftover spaghetti,” I suggested, thinking of what I saw in the fridge when I got out my bottle of vodka.
“I’ll go have a quick shower while you get things ready,” she said and slipped out of my arms.
I let her go, watching as she went down the hall to our bedroom and the en-suite bathroom.
Then I turned to examine the painting of Ethan once more. Warmth for him filled me. We’d be back in Manhattan for New Year's and I wanted to spend it with him and Elaine. By then, Kate and I would be married and looking forward to the year as newlyweds.
I almost had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t caught in some dream, only to wake up only to find I’d been asleep and the wonderful life I was leading was nothing but a figment of my imagination.
Then I went to the kitchen and reheated the leftover spaghetti.