One Wish

I gaze at his well-defined oblong head, the way his forehead width is equal to the width of his jaw, and wonder how I could ever draw perfection like that. “Not yours.”

He stops with his fork in midair when I answer. “You were trying to draw my head?” I nod as I tuck into the spaghetti. “And the way you drew it resembled a mango?” I nod my head again. “So, I have a mango head. Interesting.”

A sudden burst of laughter leaves my lips. “No way do you have a mango head, but that was funny nonetheless.” I take a bite of my Bolognese, the tangy zestiness of the tomatoes and herbs invading my senses. “Oh, wow, this is good.”

“I told you,” Eli replies, taking a bite himself. “So, do you think you’re having some sort of artist’s block?”

I think about that for a moment. Maybe he’s right. It’s more than plausible, especially when I can’t remember a thing.

“Quite possibly, yes. I’m certainly terrible at it lately. I tried to draw a bus and it looked like a square box, like something a five-year-old would draw.”

Eli chews before responding. “It’ll come back. Everyone goes through dry spells sometimes, which is precisely why you need to relax and not try to force it. When the urge comes, it will come. Probably when you least expect it. Inspiration from somewhere will find its way.”

Grateful for his support, I thank him.

When the plates have been almost licked because the food was that good, we venture outside where obviously the paparazzi have gotten wind of where we are. Flashes of the cameras blind us as we quickly climb inside the car, but thankfully, Craig sets off quickly.

“I thought cameras left us alone in Hollywood?” I ask.

“I don’t think there’s any privacy no matter where you go, but usually I can have a meal there and not be intruded on too much. I guess us out together for a meal is an unheard-of event, so the vultures decided to check us out.”

I laugh at his analogy of the press. “The vultures… nice.”

“Today has been great so far.”

I nod my agreement. “It really has.”

“And it’s not over yet,” he replies with a mischievous smile.

“No, it’s not,” I reply, staring out at the beautiful sunny sky ahead.

“No, I’m telling you. The day is not over yet.”

Snapping my head to him, I see a twinkle in his eyes. “You’re up to something, aren’t you?”

He smirks back. “Maybe.”

“Okay, what is it?”

The only response I’m met with is a smirk.