Etching Our Way (Broken Tracks 1)

I lift my hand in a wave as I walk past the secretary and she shakes her head, huffing out a breath to which I chuckle.

I step outside, closing my eyes and leaning my head back, basking in the sunlight that streams across my face. My body deflates as I open them back up and start walking toward my car; at least that’s one less thing to worry about… until the next thing comes along that is.

Léon—Dreams

AC/DC—Nervous shakedown

“Harmony! Wake up!” a voice shouts, but I’m still half-asleep so I can’t work out where it’s coming from.

I’m nudged in my side and I groan. “Leave me alone.”

“Harmony! You’re going to be late for your adult class, you only canceled the afternoon classes so get your butt moving.”

I shoot up into a sitting position, seeing Mom standing over me. I look down at my watch and see that I still have an hour before it starts and swat at her laughing form.

“Sorry, couldn’t resist.” She winks at me and walks out of the living room, leaving me to flop back into the cushions.

I didn’t wake up in a very good mood, so I canceled all of my morning and afternoon sessions so I could catch up on some much needed sleep before my adult class. But now I’m really not in the mood for that either. There’s something about the thought of painting fine details or talking about watercolors that doesn’t appeal to me today.

My eyes widen as a thought goes off like a lightbulb in my head; I’m up and off the sofa, running into the kitchen to grab a sandwich before kissing Mom on the cheek and heading out of the door.

I get to my car and sigh, realizing that I left my purse inside with my keys in it. I run back into the house, grabbing my purse and the two bottles of wine Mom holds out for me. Then I’m back out of the door and in my car, driving to the liquor store before I know it.

I get there and locate the bottle of gin I’m looking for, laughing at myself; this’ll get them all livened up. I pay and get back into my car, heading toward my studio.

When I arrive, I can’t stop the smile from creeping up my face as I gaze at the outside of the beautiful building; I really did luck out with this place.

Making my way inside, I turn on all of the lights and pull out the plastic sheeting I used for the kids to paint their coveralls, and pin it up against the two back walls as well as hanging up rolls of paper against it, and taping some to the floor.

I place paints, palettes, and paintbrushes beside everything and set my sights on the wine, letting that breathe and placing the gin and tonic on the table next to the glasses of wine.

I catch myself in my office mirror as I walk back inside and startle; in my haste to leave the house I’d forgotten to do anything to my face and hair.

I dig out a hair tie from my purse and pull my hair up into a messy bun on the top of my head, pulling out a few loose pieces to frame my face before taking some mascara and coating my lashes. There, that’ll have to do for now, I don’t have time to preen anymore.

I stand staring at all of the clothes in my walk-in closet, not knowing what the hell I should choose. I have enough suits to wear one for every day of the year and not need to get them dry cleaned.

Dark blue, navy blue, blue, black, dark gray, gray… the list goes on and on. I have enough ties to provide each child at the school that Clay and Izzie go to with one and enough shoes to never wear every pair throughout my whole life.

I have so many casual clothes that I’ve had picked out for me by a personal shopper that I don’t think I’ve even worn ten percent of them.

So why is this so difficult?

Why I’m fretting over what to wear, I don’t know. A suit is too much for sure, but are jeans and a t-shirt too casual? Do I need to wear old clothes because of the paint?

I’m so out of my element it’s unreal, and I’m at the point where I’m about to give up and say, “to hell with it,” order a pizza and stay home in my sweatpants.

“Daddy?” I spin around, looking down at Izzie where she stands at the entrance to my walk-in closet, her brows drawn into a frown, creating a v on her forehead. “Why are you watching your clothes?”

I chuckle at her innocent observation and then walk over to her before crouching down to her level. “I’m trying to find something to wear.”

She nods at me and tilts her head to the side, her eyes moving over the clothes at the same time. “Where are you going?”

My eyes widen at her question and I debate whether I should tell her or not. “I… I’m going to learn how to… paint.”

Her mouth opens wide and her eyes sparkle. “Like me and Clay do?”

“Yeah,” I smile. “Like you and Clay do.”