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CHAPTER THREE: 35,000 – 6 = 34,994 good times

On the drive home, Kevin chewed one of his cuticles to a bloody pulp and nearly flattened a hapless pedestrian as he made an illegal left turn. He took both incidents as a sign to do nothing more once home than to chuck his clothes to the floor, take out his contacts, pop an Ambien, and crash into bed.

He awoke many hours later, face down, when the sun was out and his sister was standing on his bed in bare feet and kicking him repeatedly in the side. Briefly, he wondered if he had been sent back in time, when this sort of situation was a weekly occurrence: Serena usually wanting a ride somewhere early on a Saturday morning, and him sleeping off a hangover.

“Kevin! Wake up! Come on!” One of her bony feet connected with his right kidney, causing a brief patch of sharp pain, and he instinctively grabbed one of her ankles and yanked her down. She shrieked as she bounced off of his legs.

“Ow! We’re not ten anymore, you idiot!” Serena hollered, forgetting that she been the instigator.

Kevin pulled a pillow over his head, instantly regretting the day that he gave her a key to his place.

“Hey, wake up, we brought lox,” Serena continued, shaking his motionless body. “It’s like, noon, anyway, and—wait, how many sleeping pills did you take?”

“One,” he mumbled, barely. Why wouldn’t she just go away?

“Oh great,” she breathed. “You weigh like five thousand pounds when you’re sleeping.”

“Go away.”

“No. Darien’s making coffee. Plus you kind of need to shower.”

She was not going to go away. He pushed himself into a sitting position and tried to focus through the heavy fog in his brain. Serena finally exited, and after a shower, he found both her and Darien in his kitchen, sitting at the island and eating lox and bagels.

“Sunshine!” Darien bellowed, holding up a flat object. “I brought you a present.”

Kevin rubbed one of his dry, aching eyes underneath his glasses. It was a painting, sort of abstract, with a black, misshapen figure with hundreds of teeth strangling a wooden tent pole…or something. Maybe he was holding it upside down. “What is this?”

“THAT, my friend, is the masterpiece that was hanging in our guest bathroom. We figured that since now you’re intimately involved with the artist in question, you’d rather have it here terrifying you instead of causing evacuation problems to guests in our house.”

Kevin grunted and pushed it aside, reaching for a cup of coffee. Darien raised an eyebrow at his wife, and continued. “So…Mina, huh? Didn’t take you for an art lover.”

Serena swallowed a gigantic mouthful of bagel before machine-gunning statements at them. “She’s so cute. I like her. I like how she makes her own clothes. Her hair is really shiny. I feel really bad about what happened to her. Are you going to see her again?”

Both men turned to her. “What happened to her?” Kevin said slowly. He knew something wasn’t right when he dropped her off.

“You guys really didn’t see?” Serena looked to first her husband, and then her brother, and wondered why she was surrounded by such rubes. “For real?”

“Serena, shut up and tell me what happened!”

She exhaled. “Well first, Wenny Gunderson was really rude about her dress…”

Darien barked out a short laugh. “That’s balls. Wenny Gunderson has enough Botox in her face to paralyze an elephant seal.”

“Well, anyway, after that, Wenny and Lindy Hewitt went around telling everyone that she was probably a call girl, or a college student that Kevin was slumming with, even though I already told everyone that she was an artist, and get this! Russell Thomas actually has a painting of hers that his son bought him! Isn’t that neat?”

Kevin dropped into a chair. “Why don’t you tell me any of this while it’s happening so I could do something?”

“So you could do what, get all rude and yelly and cause a scene at a charity event where we’re trying to raise money? Plus embarrass your date? She was really freaked out when Henry Berman felt her up, that jerk. He’s really getting out of control when he drinks.”

Kevin was motionless for a long moment, causing Darien to glance at him nervously. Finally he let out the breath he was holding in. “That’s why she was so upset. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Well,” Serena said. “I think she was too ashamed to tell you because she was starting to cry. She had a pretty bad night.”

His eyes darkened behind his glasses. “Henry Berman is fucking dead.”

Serena rolled her eyes. “OK, whatever, Mr. Hardass. Henry Berman is the lieutenant governor. Are you just going to run up and punch him in the face the next time you see him?”

“Yes.”

Serena’s expression hardened, proving that her brother wasn’t the only one in the family with stones. “Leave him to me, OK? I won’t let him get away with it, I promise.

Now,” she said, settling back and piling up another bagel. “Are you going to see Mina again?”

“Yeah, tonight. She told me to wear something casual.”

Serena paused her slathering of the new bagel, and Darien just started outright laughing. “OK, that means we’re going to have to go shopping, now, too. Go get dressed. Oo! And you should bring her flowers to say that you’re sorry you dragged her into such a viper pit. I’ll clean up.” She bit her bagel as Kevin left to get dressed, and turned to her husband. “Honestly. All those stupid women were just jealous of her. I wish they would just let me organize the ball by myself. Then I could stop having it at that tacky hotel.” She chewed slowly. “Darien?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Is Mina good enough for my brother?”

Darien smiled and pulled her to his body, in the corner where she always fit so well. “We’ve been friends for a long time. I’ve seen her through a lot of shit, and she’s always kept her head.”

“You didn’t invite her to our wedding.”

“Baby, we didn’t invite anyone to our wedding except for your parents, Kevin, and Amy.”

“Oh, yeah.” She cocked her head. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I know,” Darien said. “And I’ll tell you: I think she is, but I don’t know if she thinks she is.”

Serena’s face fell. “Oh no. Why?”

“It’s complicated, sweetie. Everyone’s not as good and honest as you think they are. Mina’s had to struggle sometimes, and pull through some real unpleasant crap, and people haven’t always been kind to her, especially people she loved.” Especially that infected anal wart that she almost married. “I hope that she will realize just how awesome and talented she is, and that she is any person’s equal and many people’s better.” He glanced back down the hallway. “Maybe Kevin can help her with that.”



*******************************************************


If there was any good thing to come out of her night of moral embarrassment, it was four sketches and an acrylic with slashing strokes born out of pure anger. One of them may be good enough to come out at the next showing.

Mina used her cheek to hold her phone to her shoulder as she put some finishing touches on her painting. The white cat watched her paint from her bed, yawning occasionally.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Makoto had parroted this line several times, like Mina was going to give a different answer if she kept asking.

“I don’t—I told you, I felt bad and weird enough just being there, and then adding to the drama would just make it worse.”

Makoto sighed heavily on the other end. “Maybe you should tell him tonight.”

“Maybe. I’ll see how it goes.”

“What are you going to do tonight?”

“Ugh, I don’t even know yet. I guess we’ll just wing it and see what happens. There’s a new installation down near the canal but I don’t know if it will be too weird for him. Although he is getting very brave.”

“Um, Mina?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s six o’clock already. Didn’t you say he was coming at seven?”

“Shit!” She hurriedly got off the phone, and ran to the bathroom, wiping her hands clean on an old t-shirt.

Oh God, what to wear? She stood in front of her closet, taking a mental inventory of what he had seen her in already: a makeshift ball gown, sexy shoes and a killer dress, an artfully mismatched ensemble complete with borrowed ankle boots, and, well, black underwear. Technically, if I stretch it a bit, I could consider this a fourth date.

It was getting colder at night; she picked a short plum dress, opaque tights and Raye’s ankle boots, which she hadn’t given back yet, a fitted gray jacket, and her black fedora. Lots of mascara. Small earrings.

“You need a scarf,” Raye said from the couch, where she was curled up with a book and a glass of wine. “Take the one on the hook on my door.”
“You’re the best,” she called, trotting away.

“Of course I am. I didn’t mention that you’re wearing my boots again.”
Kevin was ridiculously punctual; he knocked on their door exactly at seven, when she was still shoving wallets and keys and other detritus into her handbag on the kitchen table. He was wearing jeans, which was a new development, and a shirt and jacket, and looked downright trendy. “Hi.”

She raised her eyebrows approvingly. “No neckwear!”

“Ah, thank you. I had someone dress me.” He swallowed. “You look beautiful.”

Mina gave him a teasing look. “Was it Jesse?”

“No, but if I had to do it again, he’d probably be at the top of my list. He let me know exactly uh, what improvements he would make to me when I gave him a ride home.

It was actually my sister.”

“Well, she did a great job.” She grabbed her bag. “Bye, Raye!”

Raye lifted a hand without looking up from her book. “Bye, kids! Stay out of trouble. Don’t get my boots dirty!”


***********************************************

“You first,” Mina said, as they exited the Chinese restaurant and stepped out into the street. She held up the folded fortune from the center of a cookie, the red printed writing on the outside.

Kevin stretched his shoulders. “You really want to know how many people I’ve slept with?”

“You really want to know how many I slept with? This is important information that I have to share with my friends so that they can judge you.”

He shrugged. “Count of three?” The streets were busy on this Saturday night; they joined the pack of pedestrians waiting for their chance to stampede across the crosswalk.

“Three!” She unfolded the paper, looked up with him, and started laughing disbelievingly.

He was also staring at his strangely, then smiled in that way he did. “You’ve been busy.”

“You haven’t!” she snickered. “This isn’t physically possible!”

They kept walking shoulder to shoulder along the dark sidewalk. “Neither is thirty five thousand. That’s, what, averaging more than three a day for the last ten years? You would have died of dehydration or something.”

She held up her paper again. “I don’t think you’re telling me the truth either. How can you sleep with negative six people?”

“It’s a lot easier than thirty five thousand. Did you even take a day off for Christmas or anything?”

She hit him lightly on the arm. “Negative six? How does that work?”

“So between us, we’ve got a total of 34,994.” He smiled again, burying the fortune in his jacket pocket. “Where are we going?”

“Ah, over this way. It’s a surprise. Because you look so good tonight.”

Kevin’s face reddened; Mina found that she really liked seeing that reaction out of him. “Thank you. Maybe I’ll make it to out of the negative numbers.”

Now it was her turn to blush.

Mina led him down the dark streets, the crowd growing younger and trendier with each cross street. A small crowd had gathered outside of a warehouse-like building; those milling outside smoking cigarettes and drinking out of paper bags, most wearing scarves and fitted clothing and ironic hats and t-shirts and glasses. Kevin was relieved to see that this art crowd wasn’t as strange in appearance as the one in the gallery the previous week. Actually, everybody was posing and milling, but they actually appeared fairly normal; he didn’t feel so out of place this time.

“This guy has been setting up this installation for a while,” Mina said after they entered, waving at someone she knew across the floor. They were wandering through a maze of boxes, painted black and gray and silver, and piled in stacks up to the ceiling. The rafters were exposed in the warehouse, and the floor was uncovered cement. Several people were taking pictures, but more were winding their way through the displays and critiquing with their friends. Some sort of slow, dreamy music was playing in the background. “How does it make you feel?”

Kevin was staring up at the boxes, wondering if there was anything inside anchoring them down so that they didn’t come crashing down on everyone’s heads. “Honestly? Like I should be driving a forklift.”

Mina’s blue eyes shone. “Actually,” she said, laughing, “So do I.”

He waited until she took her hand out of her pocket as they walked, and when she finally did, to smooth a piece of golden yellow hair behind her ear, he reached over and clasped it in his own. It was small, and warm and slightly calloused. And, Kevin had noticed, never entirely clean; she usually carried her vocation with her through paint smudges on the insides of her wrists, or charcoal ground into her nail beds, or small nicks from an X-acto knife, the cuts held together with super glue or bandaids.

She smiled shyly, her eyes falling to the floor, and squeezed softly.

******************************************************

“I can’t see you being anything but a good boy your entire life. That’s why you’re so successful, right? You go to school, make good grades, go to Harvard Business and now you’re…well, I’m not sure how much you have, but I know it’s a lot more than me.” They were wandering outside now, checking out the exhibits in the back, which were actually getting more creative in Mina’s eyes, and weirder in Kevin’s.

Kevin cleared his throat before continuing. “Uh, not really.”

“Why? What happened? You have to spill now; don’t be embarrassed. My brother’s been arrested for public intoxication he’s still a productive member of society. There’s no judgment here. What did you do? Overfeed your sister’s pony?”

They passed a trio of pregnant women, their stomachs exposed and painted purple: an interesting medium for an artist who was probably out of ideas. Kevin did a double take, then tried not to stare. “That too. I, uh, actually got busted with, well, really a lot of drugs and got kicked out of prep school.”

“What!” Her hat slipped off of her head and she swiped it off of the ground in a single motion. “’Really a lot of drugs’ is like how much drugs?”

“Enough to get me arrested.”

“Oh my god! How old were you?”

“I was fifteen. It was really stupid, on my part. I know everyone who’s gotten caught says this, but it really wasn’t mine.

You see, Zach, my friend Zach? He’s an interesting guy, absolutely brilliant, but when we were freshmen he was going through this obnoxious white Rastafarian phase, or maybe he read the Communist Manifesto or something that year. He was looking for an excuse to break off the shackles of his middle-class, suburban, Jewish existence and live like a true follower of Jah or something because he decided to stick it to the man, which means his parents, and was stocking up on every illegal pharmaceutical he could get his hands on. ”

“What kind of drugs?”

“Oh, God, everything. Coke, E, acid, an eighth, Ritalin, Oxycontin, it was all in my locker.”

“That’s enough for intent, isn’t it?” she groaned.

“Well, unfortunately for me, yes. Anyway, Zach would have been screwed seven ways from Sunday; he was a scholarship student, didn’t have the, uh, resources I had to keep himself out of jail, so I just let everyone believe that it was me. Zach nearly blew it, though, I had to punch him in the mouth to keep him from confessing. He said he would never leave a comrade to take the fall for him.

Like I said, he was a confused kid. You should have seen his dreadlocks.”

Mina shook her head. “So what happened?”

“Well, lucky for me, my father kept me out of juvie, but he couldn’t keep me in that school, even though his good friend was chairman of the board.”

He shrugged again. “So I went to public school. So did Zach, actually. He said it was the least he could do for me for saving his ass. I still don’t think his mother has forgiven me for that. She thinks that I talked him into it so that I wouldn’t have to go alone.”

“Well, everything worked out anyways, right?” Mina asked.

“It wasn’t bad,” Kevin admitted. “I mean, all of my friends thought it was the most humiliating thing that could happen to me, and that I would go crazy and drop out or something, but it was just…normal. Everyone I met was pretty normal, and at first I was pretty lost. It was the first school where I didn’t have to wear a uniform, and I had to eat in a cafeteria and share desks and books for the first time, and everyone was treated like a student, not a little prince in training, but I got used to it quickly. I played football and ran for student council and just did normal high school things.” He stopped and thought for a second. “I think that’s what turned me into a human being. All my old friends from prep school…I mean, their lives are fine, on the surface. They’re all rich and powerful and all that, but when you talk to them now, they’re…” He trailed off, thought for a bit. “The could care less about people they think are below them. They yell at waiters and old people and cheat on their wives and girlfriends and are pretty much alcoholics. They are miserable people with too much power.” He exhaled tiredly, and Mina wondered if this was the first time he had admitted something like this out loud.

“I’m glad I’m not like them.”

Mina leaned against him. “I’m glad you’re not, too.” They reached a wall, suddenly in the middle of the exhibit, with a huge dragon painted on it, with something that looked like paper and sand mixed in with the paint. She reached out and traced the textures, her knuckles flecked with old paint that the Lava soap hadn’t been able to remove. “Interesting,” she murmured, almost to herself. The mural was coming apart in her mind: she was removing the green parts and filling them in with gray washes instead, the dragon twisting around, parts of his body starting to stripe. She watched as he repositioned, his yellow eye shining and terrible, and settled into a crouch as the imaginary brushed in her hands redrew the clouds he sat on.

Kevin watched this process. Her eyes squinted and went distant,
seeing things that he could not: her fingers moving along the lines as if she could pick them off and reposition them. Something was being created at that moment, all in her imagination and fingertips.

He reached out and lifted her hand from the painting, bringing it to him, and by extension, bringing her to him. She faced him now, looking directly into his eyes, still shaking off the clouds in her head, her face expressionless, as if waking from deep sleep.

Slowly, he backed her up against the painted wall, his eyes never leaving hers, stormy gray on soft blue. His body pressed against hers, increasing the pressure little by little.

He touched her face softly, running his fingers against her cheek, then the curve of her jawbone, and using two fingers under her chin, pulled her face up and placed a kiss on her lips. Mina returned it, hard, pressing her mouth fully against his, her body stretched upward to make up the height difference, and let the waves of desire wash over her body like an electric current. She pressed her hands against his hard stomach, feeling the bumps of the muscles underneath, and suddenly she was grinding herself against his legs, the heat and want of her body taking over her mind.

Someone spotted them and yelled: “Hey, look at those people making out against Jonah’s mural! Get a room, you two!”

They broke apart, Kevin’s face red again, but Mina was completely unembarrassed. She grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him down, her eyes dead serious. “Take me out of here. Now.”


*****************************
They ended up folded together again on the sidewalk, and somehow Kevin managed to hail a cab, the cabbie giving them a long, distasteful stare as Mina practically jumped in after and pulled Kevin’s body to her, planting hard kisses on his neck.

Kevin pulled something out of his pocket and pushed it through the slits in the clear plastic partition. “For your trouble,” he gasped, as Mina pushed him against the door and attacked him again.

The cabbie pulled it through, checked out the numeral in the corner of the bill, and raised his eyebrows. “Thank you, my friend. You can make as many babies as you want to back there.”

Mina giggled through another kiss as her hat was knocked off. She grabbed his head, steadying herself. His eyes were glassy, and such a dark gray that she took a moment to remind herself to try and mix the shade later. She kissed him, gentle and long, feeling the heat from his mouth, and moments later they were entangled again, breathing and writhing against the cramped backseat.

The cabbie cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, my friend, but where am I taking you?”

Mina surfaced and blurted her address. Kevin raised his eyebrows, but she shook her head. “It’s all right.”

Her apartment was dark when they stumbled in the front door. The refrigerator was humming softly, and the white cat was perched on the countertop, his eyes narrowed as if he was challenging either of them to move him.

Mina led him by the hand through the darkness to her room, but before opening the door, she was suddenly embarrassed about what he might see. “It’s a little messy.”

Kevin didn’t respond, but pressed her against the door, his fingers brushing her hair away from her neck. Mina’s breath caught in her throat. He looked at her, briefly, then continuing tracing her body like she had done earlier with the mural, the gentle pressure from his fingertips sending ripples of pleasure through her body.

She was the one who pulled him down to her bed, shoving a few sketchbooks and cosmetics to the floor, slightly apologetic that she hadn’t made the bed that morning. He settled on top of her, careful not to crush, and chose to speak when she was unbuttoning his shirt. “Are you—we don’t—“

“Shut up. Kiss me.” Her voice was firm.

It was a poor decision to wear so many layers, she thought in retrospect. Her dress zipped up the side, and even with her burlesque training, there was no way to remove it in any way that would be even remotely sexy. She had to sit up and wiggle it over her shoulders, and then lift it over her head. Kevin was smirking at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, his eyes laughing. They turned serious very quickly as he pulled her to him. Mina’s eyes fluttered shut, and she shrugged quickly out of her bra straps.

The rest of their clothes were yanked off and thrown on the floor. Mina went to town, wanting to touch, to taste every part of him. Her hair fanned over their faces, she used one hand to move it away as she kissed around his eyes, relishing the feathery touch of his eyelashes against her lips.

She gasped as his fingers went inside her, and again, with a more intense reaction when he entered her.

He stopped moving. “What’s wrong?” Slants of light from the street illuminated his face; his eyes were tight and hard as if he were in pain.

She shifted underneath him, testing the waters, letting her body stretch to accommodate him. “Nothing,” she breathed, rolling her hips again, causing him to gasp sharply. “I—you’re just—bigger—I’m not used to—“

“Do you want me to stop?”

She reached around the back of his head and pulled his face down to hers, until their foreheads were pressing, and crushed her mouth against his. “Don’t stop.”

He started off gently, probably trying to keep from hurting her again, and she rocked with him, building intensity. Her skin was hot, and she could vaguely sense that she was tearing his back up with her fingernails as she writhed and sweated and, once past a certain point, moaned his name, begged him to go harder, bit his ear and pulled her knees up to let him in deeper.

His eyes never left hers.

But suddenly he squeezed them shut as his mouth dropped open slightly, and she knew he was close, and trying to hold off until she finished. One of his hands clamped around her arm hard enough to bruise; he was closer than she expected. “Please,” she gasped, pushing her body up against him: forehead, breasts, arms encircling his body, ankles crossed around his back. She pressed against him, harder, feeling her body squeeze around him, then a tidal wave ripped across her, shocking every nerve, tensing and releasing faster than she could process, stealing her breath so that she could only cry out when she was coming down and her head was rushing with pleasure.

Nothing could compare with this.

He couldn’t hold back any more; she felt him shove forward as his body stiffened. He didn’t make a sound as he shuddered, releasing into her, and then exhaling as he dropped his head to her shoulder and tried to catch his breath.

It took a while. They lay entwined, the air cold now against Mina’s skin. Her eyes were closing as he pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. She smiled in the dark.

“Negative seven,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. She felt a gentle shake as he laughed softly.

“Negative five,” he corrected. She didn’t have enough energy to respond, but dropped off into sleep with Kevin’s arm around her.

************************

His mind woke before his eyes opened, slowly: first aware of the sunlight warming his face, then of the pocket of warmth that his body heat had created under the covers. Then he remembered that there was supposed to be another body there, one that had rocked him to the core last night so intensely that he couldn’t believe he had enough testosterone left to wake up with alarm cock. His hand reached out to find her, and when he felt nothing but empty mattress, he opened his eyes.

Mina was sitting in a wooden chair next to the bed, stark naked, frowning at him as she drew on a sketchpad with a charcoal pencil. Her legs were splayed up on the bed as she balanced the pad on her knees, giving him a clear view all the way up. He couldn’t help but look there first.

“Gah,” she muttered. “You’re awake.”

He blinked painfully; after sleeping in his contacts, it felt like they were scraping the insides of his eyelids with hot, rusty nails. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah,” she smiled suddenly, pulling out the paintbrush that had been holding her hair up. It fell in a blond curtain around her shoulders as she popped the brush handle between her teeth and started tying it back again. “I knew I didn’t have a lot of time before you woke up.” She glanced down, realized that she had been flashing herself for his full view, and for a moment, looked as if she were going to put her legs down and flush with embarrassment. The look passed, and instead she smiled wider and leaned back, spreading open further. “Hi.”

Seeing her completely naked body in full daylight, curving and soft and unblemished, was urging him to pull her to the bed and trying to beat last night’s score by at least one. Morning wood was on his side.

**********************************************************************


Kevin’s brain couldn’t stop singing as he exited her building, not that he was actively trying to stop it. I got laid. And how!

Stop it, that’s disrespectful, he thought to himself. His brain had a differing opinion.

Shut up fool! Can’t stop won’t stop aw yeah damn.

He wondered why his internal monologue sounded just like Darien.
The cabbie from the night before was waiting outside the building. “Hello my friend,” he said, approaching Kevin with Mina’s fedora that she had been wearing last night. “Your lady friend, she left her hat in my cab. I brought it back after my shift.”

Kevin took it from him. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that.” He dug around in his pocket for some cash to give the guy, when an idea suddenly hit him. “Hey, you work night shift?”

“Yes, my friend. For two years now.”

“It must get dangerous sometimes.”

“Yes, my friend. No matter, I am lucky to have a job to support my wife and daughter and lazy son-in-law.”

Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Would you be interested in working for me?”

*****************


Mina woke up alone.

It was nothing new. She spent a few extra minutes burrowing under the covers, pointing her toes and stretching her sore calf muscles, and finally crawled out, naked, and stumbled for the bathroom. She needed a shower, stat.

Five months since she had been in his life, and Kevin’s apartment still looked like a realtor was going to burst through the door at any moment and start showing buyers around with a tape measure. It was bigger and nicer than any place she had set foot in, with maybe the exception of Darien’s penthouse, with huge windows that were lit up at night with the city lights. She was, however, a bit dismayed to learn that he saw nothing wrong with bare walls, minimal furniture, and nothing more personal that a toothbrush. The bedroom was bare except for the bed, which she couldn’t be mad at, since she never knew she was in love with memory foam until now, a bureau, and for some odd reason, a painting that she had sold Darien a while back that was quite ghastly in retrospect.

The master bathroom was a bit better, mostly because she had slowly been filling it with her own toiletries, including a baby bamboo plant that she had made from a cutting of one of her own bigger ones, and a soap dish that Jesse had made for her as a birthday gift one year. Sighing, she cleared away the empty beer bottles that tended to accumulate in the shower, then turned on the water and started washing away the smudges of charcoal that for once, was not on her fingers, but smeared over most of her body. She would have to wash the sheets later.

Last night they were laying in bed, doing nothing of importance, but was significant since they were doing it together. Kevin had his glasses on, and was reading through some papers. Every once in a while he would glance up at her, her fingers black with charcoal pencil.

“What are you drawing?” He reached over and ran his fingers across her bare foot. She shivered.

“You.”

“Can I see?”

“No.”

“Why?” His hand traveled up her calf.

“Because I’m not finished.”

“I don’t care.” She handed him the pad, and his jaw dropped when he saw what she had been working on. “How long were you working on this?”

“I don’t know, maybe a half an hour? That’s why the shading isn’t done on the right side.”

He looked at her again. “To hell with the shading. This is incredible.”
She had drawn him, a rush job by her standards, but astonishingly realistic, her shading tight enough to capture the light glinting off his hair and eyelashes.

She was giving him a wary smile. “Why are you looking at me like that? I told you I wasn’t done! That’s why your ear looks so two-dimensional.”

He was still for a while, letting her finish drawing his ear, watching her furrow her brow and use some sort of stubby instrument to help with blending. “Can I draw you, too?”

“Can you even draw?” she laughed, picking a pad off the ground and handing it to him. “There’s a number one pencil in there. It’s soft enough to do some shading.”

She could have handed him a crayon for all the good it did. His sketch was over in minutes.

“Let me see.” He flipped it over. Mina burst into laughter: he had drawn a stick figure, with a bow stuck in the bald head and round cartoon breasts. A speech bubble hovered above the head, reading: Kevin sucks at drawing!

She dropped her materials to the floor and crawled next to him. “But he’s good at other things.”

He picked up the pencil again and made an adjustment. Another character was speaking off the page in another speech bubble: Like what?

She pushed the pad to the side and hovered over him, her hair falling around her shoulders. “He can show me.”

Mina shivered at the memory as she scrubbed her hair. He had shown her, in many different positions, and she had the teeth marks on her left breast to prove it. Actually, that was kind of sore; he had gotten a little overexcited once she had started giving orders, but she was pretty sure that the words “Bite me” weren’t to be taken literally in those kinds of situations. Perhaps he was getting back at her for leaving those marks on his neck last week.

He had left early, shortly after dawn, like he usually did, and probably wouldn’t return until that evening. Twice he had gone on business trips, which were usually lonely for a time, but the reunions were quite pleasurable. And naked.

She cleaned up and pulled her clothes off the floor. She was running late; Jesse would start calling and yelling at her any minute. No time for makeup: she would have to explain away the dark circles around her eyes.

Priyam was waiting with the car downstairs on the street. “Good morning Miss Aino,” he said pleasantly. “Mr. Chaston thought you might be running late and asked me to take you to your meeting. We’ll go now?” He opened the door for her.

He knew her too well already.

***************************************************

True enough, Jesse was parked at a table at Grinder’s, sipping the foam off of his latte and scowling. “God, I thought you’d never get here. Nice outfit. Didn’t know wrinkled was the new look for spring.”

Mina yawned. “Sorry, I had a late night.”

“Oh, is that what they are calling multi-hour sex marathons these days? Your shirt is inside out.”

She glanced down: it was. “Shit. Why are you in such a bad mood?”

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I haven’t gotten laid in a month and a half and I’m just jealous of you and your perfect, sexy boyfriend that still hasn’t moved Victory, by the way. Although I can’t say that it’s hurting you any.” He opened a binder and slid an envelope to her. “Two more sold this week, including Pleco.”

“Really?” Mina opened the envelope and checked the amount on the checks inside. “That one was practically growing mold.”

“Really,” Jesse said. “Victory has a ‘sold’ tag hanging on it, people see that it’s in demand, that you’re in demand, and suddenly you’re the new hot artist on the scene and everyone wants a piece of you. It’s like, the basis for our entire society. Do you think people actually want iphones and Hummers and velour tracksuits? Hello! They want to have what everyone else does. I don’t. I just want your boyfriend. Is he queer yet?”

Mina dropped her hands to her lap and thought a moment. “This is really happening.”

“What is?”

“Everything.” She looked at him. “Everything in my life is suddenly really not sucking. I can’t remember a time when everything just seemed to work in my favor.” She squirmed in her seat. “I wonder how long it will last.”

“Stop with the negative! Can you just enjoy your success and your sickeningly happy relationship without thinking that everything’s going to fall to shit?”

“That’s the thing. Everything in my life usually does fall to shit eventually.”

“Please. Cut. The. Fucking. Bullshit!” He grabbed her hand. “Mina, I know you’ve had a lot of crap happen to you. I saw your relationship with that…creature crash and burn and you trying to dig your way out of that. Please stop thinking that all of these good things happening to you is the exception and not the rule.”

She sighed. “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to listen because it puts me out of my comfort zone.”

“Well, at least you’re honest.”

Mina pulled his latte cup over and took a sip when she noticed the small, icy blond pop in the front door, carrying a briefcase half the size of her body. She waved. “Oh, there’s Serena. Hey!”

Serena smiled and pulled a chair up. “Hi! I’m Serena!”

Jesse was utterly enthralled. “Why, hello you little ball of sunshine! Love the Louboutins!”

Serena giggled. “Thanks! I have to wear heels all the time or else I’m really short. I got the short gene in our family.”

“This is Jesse,” Mina gestured, internally grumbling that Serena was dressed to the nines on a Tuesday morning, and she was wearing last night’s clothes with an extra side of wrinkles. “Jesse, this is Serena. Kevin’s sister.”

Jesse jumped like he had been just run through with an electric current. “You’re his sister? Oh, honey, style runs in your family.”

Mina groaned: Jesse was really laying it on thick for his audience. However, Serena looked rather flattered as she smoothed her hair down.

Jesse continued. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, sweetie, I know this one here and your brother have a thing going, but growing up, did he leave any hint or suggestion that he might, how do I put this? Prefer popsicles to donuts, if you catch my meaning?”

Mina sunk her head to the table, wishing that a bottomless pit would suddenly open in the middle of the floor that she could chuck Jesse into. Or not a bottomless pit. Maybe a pit filled with church ladies and professional wrestling fans and polyester clothing; that would be more like Jesse’s version of hell.

Serena started giggling uncontrollably. “Um, I don’t mind you asking, and no, I don’t think so. I found the porn folder on his computer once, and there was no, uh, popsicle-loving in it. Well, actually there was, but it was donuts that loved the popsicles. And some donuts that loved other donuts. But nothing that was popsicles only.”

Jesse scowled. “That was my last attempt. I give up! I’ll find some other straight guy to convert. Ladies, enjoy your lunch. Mina, I’ll see you later. We need something to fill the blank wall. And just between me and you and Little Ms. Bergdorf Goodman’s here, some other gallery is going to call and ask for one of your works to hang.”

“Which other gallery?”

“One that had fake fetuses in jars. I’ll tell them you’re out of town.”

“Thanks, Jesse.”

Serena was smiling at her. “Fake fetuses?”

“Oh, yeah, I was considering giving one to Darien for Christmas since he loved my painting so much that he gave it to Kevin. Anyway,” she opened her bag and pulled out a sketchpad. “Here’s what I threw together from what you sent me. I didn’t start working on the story, yet, I just wanted to see what you thought of the design before I went crazy.” She spread some loose pages out, head sketches of a long-lashed girl wearing a crown.

Serena studied them for a long time. “These are beautiful,” she breathed. “But a little too happy. She’s smiling in most of them.”

“I can fix that. You’re going to keep the ending to the story? The princess is still waiting in her palace on the Moon for her prince to return? All the princesses of her court fade away and turn into jewels? It’s kind of sad for a children’s book, don’t you think?”

The smaller girl never took her eyes off the pad. “That’s all I can see right now, for her and him, and the other princesses. Maybe they haven’t told me their whole story, yet, but maybe they will. And then I’ll write it for them.” She finally looked up. “I know that sounds a little crazy, but these stories, it’s like I don’t really write them, you know? I see parts of the story, and then I report them. Sorry, I know I sound like a lunatic.”

Mina crossed her arms and leaned across the table. “Then I’m crazy, too, because I know exactly what you mean.”

“Is that how you felt when you made that big painting? The one that my brother bought?”

“Yes.”

“Then you do know what I mean.” Serena sighed and settled back in her chair. “So what were you up to last night? Your shirt is inside out.”

*********************************************************************



She received a text message right as she stepped to the sidewalk. Are you busy?

He never used any shortcuts, she thought as she sipped her takeout coffee. Not right now. Would u like a visitor?

A few seconds later. OK. Good day today.

Ah, that meant that deal or merger or whatever he was stressing about that week had gone flawlessly. He would be in much better mood for at least a couple of days. Maybe he would even take a day off.

She accumulated some stares on the way to the financial district, but that really couldn’t be helped; everyone else was wearing some variation of the same suit and tie, and walking really fast and shooting her dirty looks when she stopped to snap a picture of some interesting graffiti that someone had scrawled on a bus shelter. She pulled her scarf tighter as she leaned against the frigid wind.

His company’s building was one of the newest, and tallest in the downtown area. The lobby was crowded with suits, running back and forth, barking into cell phones or tapping away on Blackberries. It actually had a lot of potential, she thought as she waited for the elevator. There was at least forty feet to the ceiling of the lobby, and the bare black marble walls called for something more than the ugly brass and stone fountain sitting in the middle. Maybe one day she could come down and sketch it out, find something else to do with the huge expanses of bare wall.

Kevin’s office door was shut and the blinds closed. “Hi!” she said to the secretary, Paul. Nice enough guy, although he never remembered her name.

“Oh, hi, mi…miss. Is Mr. Chaston expecting you?”

“Yep.” She never broke stride. “Is he in with anyone?”

“No, he’s not, but—“ She ignored him and knocked.

“It’s me.” She called, letting herself in.

Kevin was seated at his desk, his jacket and tie thrown across one of the sofas. “Hey you.” The weight that had been burdening on his shoulders seemed to have evaporated. “Your shirt’s inside out.”

“Yes, I know. Don’t get up,” she said, crossing the space and coming around to his side of the desk. She bent down and kissed him, lightly. “Guess you had a pretty good day.”

“You could say that.” He wasn’t exactly smiling, not yet, but she had a plan for that. “We should celebrate. Want a drink?”

Mina hoisted herself onto his desk directly in front of him, shrugging out of her overcoat. She parted her knees a bit and started swinging her legs. “Not yet. I was thinking of another way to celebrate.”

He reached out and started rubbing one of her knees; she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist. “Like going to my parents’ house this weekend? Great idea.”

She kicked at him. “No, you’re forcing me to do that anyway. Take another guess.”

He put one hand behind his head and reached underneath her skirt to stroke her thigh. Mina could practically feel herself melt as she placed her feet on the arms of his chair. “What did you have in mind?”

She hitched up and pulled her panties off and down her legs in one smooth motion. His stare was so intense it was practically burning her. “What else?”

Her body turned away from him as she sunk down onto his lap. “First, you can kiss me,” she whispered, reaching back to grab the back of his head while she rubbed her cheek against his. He bent his head and crushed his lips against hers, the heat starting to run through her body, settling in her chest and between her legs.

“Did you lock the door?” he breathed, pulling her skirt up and stroking at her apex. She gasped and nodded, working at the difficult task of unbuckling his belt while facing away from him. He made noise like a soft growl and went to work at her neck, moving her hair around to the front to suck on more of her skin. Finally, she was able to free him from the buckles and buttons, and after a second of adjusting, slid down.

The door burst open, and Paul rushed in just as he penetrated her.

She sat up as Kevin shoved the chair almost flush with the desk, so that hopefully Paul would see nothing more than Mina sitting on his lap behind the desk. Thankfully, they were both fully clothed, at least from the waist up. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but you asked for these?” He placed a file folder on the desk in front of Mina.

“Thank you,” Kevin murmured. She could tell he was trying to keep his breathing regular. Mina smiled at the other man, who seemed a little suspicious but still clueless.

“Thanks Paul!” She chirped, and at the same time, tightened so that she was squeezing him. A soft gasp from behind her shoulder, and a ripple of pleasure as he moved her slightly. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Yes, ma’am?” She started flexing again, and felt Kevin’s heartbeat go haywire.

“Can you lock the door behind you?”

“Of course.” He made a hasty exit, the door clicking shut behind him.
Kevin reached up and turned her face so that she was looking directly into his eyes. “That wasn’t nice.”

“Which part?” She said innocently, rising up a few inches and then sinking down. He shoved her off abruptly, accidentally using a bit too much force, and stood, bending her over the desk face down.

“All of it,” he rasped, shoving himself inside of her. She buried her shout in her sleeve as he gripped her hips and started moving. “But especially when you forgot to lock the door.”

**********************************************************************


“I swear I locked the door,” Mina insisted for probably the tenth or eleventh time since they had started this conversation. She reached over and turned the heat up in the car, since Kevin seemed to exist in some bizarro world where anything above sixty-five degrees was considered stifling.

He cracked the window as he drove. “You’re not going to convince me easily; he came right in without breaking and entering.”

“Maybe he McGuyvered something without you knowing.” He was giving her a look. “OK, fine, I forgot to lock the frigging door. I couldn’t help it; you were in a good mood and I was horny. I just sold two paintings in one day. That beats my previous record of one.” She slouched down in her seat and idly traced the condensation collecting on the window.

He reached over and stroked her hair. “I don’t blame you. I shared your horny.”

She moved her head into his hand and bit him lightly on the finger. “I like it when you share my horny. Are we there yet?”

“Definitely not. Unless my parents sold their house and now live next to…mile marker two ninety.”

“I hear that’s hot real estate these days,” she said. “That mile marker is next to an emergency call box.” She pulled an elastic band off of her wrist and tied her hair back. “OK, you promised you’d brief me before we got there. Now’s the chance.”

“What do you want to know? You’ve met my sister. She’s pretty much the weirdest one we have.”

“Tell me everything. I warned you about my family.” She had brought Kevin home for a holiday, giving him the heads up that he would probably be exposed to cheap beer, burned pie, and probably a fight or two. The beer was slightly better this year, but her mom’s pie was so dry it was like taking a mouthful of saltine crackers chased by some croutons, and the fight was actually between her and Jason over who had fed the dog too much ham, which had caused him to vomit, spectacularly, Darien-style all over the dining room carpet.

“Your family is fine.”

“Yeah, that’s because you watched football the entire time with my drunk uncles. And they didn’t know—“ She stopped herself.

“Didn’t know what?”

She had almost blurted how much money you have. He had parked around the corner and had kept description about his occupation intentionally vague. If they had known, first of all, her mother would start grilling her and her father would have been stupidly nice to Kevin instead of shooting dark looks whenever Mina touched him. And if the drunk uncles got a hint…

She changed tracks. “Didn’t know that their darling niece was jumping you every chance she gets.”

The corners of his mouth lifted. “And forgets to lock the door.”

“Oh, cut me a break, already!”

Mina tried to keep her cool as they arrived at his parents’ house, but she couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping as they turned up the driveway, a misnomer, since it really was practically a road, and caught sight of what could only be described as a mansion, resting between budding trees on an estate that was probably the size of her entire neighborhood back home. Raye had tried to prepare her by showing her google earth images, but seeing the house in person as opposed to a sixteen-inch computer screen was a very different experience.

And, again, she started to get very nervous.

Serena was waiting outside, waving as her silvery ponytail was whipped around by the frigid wind, wearing jeans and a light pink sweater but no coat or shoes. She ran and opened the passenger door and practically dragged Mina out by an arm. “Oh my God, finally, you guys, what took you so long?”

“Are we late?” This was unusual, Mina thought. Kevin was probably on time to his own birth down to the second.

“Oh, no, I was just bored waiting for you. Darien’s been on the phone the entire time because God forbid he actually take a day off and I’ve been sitting around making small talk with my Aunt Kathy and she’s kind of a bitch. And not really my aunt. She’s like, my dad’s cousin and really into psychics right now and I just can’t handle that. Are you coming?”

Mina had stopped dead in the foyer, her eyes darting around, unsure of what to settle on and admire first. The sweeping staircase, the absolutely insane chandelier, the marble lining the walls or the mirrors that stretched to the cathedral ceiling, the pillows and candelabras and the sculptures set in alcoves, all of it together making Mina feel like she should have been charged admission to enter this place. This couldn’t be someone’s home: homes had carpet that still had marker stains ground into its fibers from a toddler self-portrait, and mail cluttering the counters and pot holders that didn’t match, and stacks of magazines hiding under the coffee table, and an old dog lurching around that would still come running when you came through the door, no matter how long it had been.

She remembered now that her father’s favorite recliner was patched together with duct tape.

“Mom!” An older woman entered the room, pale and blonde, wearing pearls against her sweater set and carrying a half-empty wine glass. She stopped when she noticed Mina standing there, gawking with her mouth open.

“Oh, hello.”

“Hi.” Mina didn’t know what to do with her hands; she clasped them and held them together in front of her waist before remembering how freaking stupid that looked, then dropped them to her sides, which didn’t seem right either, and then smoothed her hair down and immediately regretted indulging in such a vain, nervous motion.

Serena grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her forward. “Mom, this is Mina. You get to finally meet her. Mina,” she turned and smiled. “This is our Mom.”

The woman placed her wine glass down and extended her hand. It was cold to the touch. “Pleasure to meet you, finally.”

“Y-you too.” She was slim and tall, her hair cut neatly at her jaw line, her face was smooth save for a few lines and glowing, most likely due to years of sun avoidance and expensive skin cream. Her clothes were simple but every part of her was polished: no hair strayed out of place, her makeup was perfect, eyebrows neatly groomed, nails manicured. She turned to her daughter.

“Where is Kevin?”

“Parking,” Serena replied. “Mom, Mina’s an artist, remember? Darien and I have a couple of her pieces.”

“Oh how nice.” Her eyes never left Mina, who looked at the floor and tried to keep the blush from creeping up her neck. “Everything in their collection is so nice. Except there’s one picture, in the bathroom I think, it clashes horribly and it’s very disturbing. Very unfortunate.”

Serena coughed. Mina swallowed and tried to keep from running out of the house in tears. “Oh, um, that one is mine. Unfortunately. Sorry.”

Mrs. Chaston had the good manners to look guilty. “Oh dear, I apologize.”

Mina forced out a fake laugh. “Oh, thank—no, sorry, I mean, it’s no big—“

The front door opened, blasting her back with cold air and saving her from rambling out a non-sequential, stuttering non-apology. “Hi Mom.” Kevin ran a hand down Mina’s hair and kissed her head before hugging his mother. She was both grateful and horrified, since his mother had most definitely noticed the small action.

“Oh, hello, darling. It’s been too long.”

He nodded. “I see you’ve met Mina.”

“Oh, yes, we were ah, just getting acquainted.” She placed a hand on Mina’s arm, but her smile didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “Apparently, she’s a very…talented artist.”

Kevin picked Mina’s bag up and slung it over his shoulder. “Not apparently--is. I’m going to take this upstairs and then go find Dad. Is Darien around? I need to ask what he did to my TV remote because it’s been acting funny ever since he messed with it last week.”

His mother stopped him before he started to ascend the staircase. “Oh, darling, take Mina’s things to the blue bedroom. We have it all ready for her.”
He didn’t break stride. “Why? She’s staying in my room.”

“Well, I thought that perhaps she might be more comfortable staying there.”

He stopped and looked over the railing, his expression unreadable, which was pretty much his default setting. “Are you serious?”

“Well, dear,” Mrs. Chaston rubbed her throat absently.

“Mother, we’re adults. We sleep in the same bed practically every night. Not to mention I noticed that Darien’s not staying in a guest room.”

“Well.” Her fingers started twining themselves in her pearls now. “Dear, Darien is—“

Mina decided that this was a good time to interrupt. “You know what? I think I would be more comfortable in the uh, blue room.” Her voice had cracked on the last syllable, effectively killing any chance she had at sounding assertive.

He was giving her a look. “Kevin, I’m serious. It’s no big deal.” He didn’t move. “Go! Chop chop!” She got one last, dubious look before he continued up the stairs.

Serena broke the silence by taking Mina by the hand and pulling her into the house. “Let’s go meet Daddy. And, ugh, Aunt Kathy, too, I guess.”

“Nice to meet you,” Mina called over her shoulder as she was led away.

Kevin’s father had a very different reaction that his mother did to meeting her; he grabbed her into a hug, practically lifting her off her feet. “So happy to meet you, finally!” he bellowed, pulling Serena into the hug, too. She started giggling. “I’ve heard a lot about you, well, mostly from Serena here, because my son, well, you know him. You have to practically shove bamboo shoots underneath his fingernails to get anything out of him. Welcome, welcome!”

“Thank you.” She untangled herself out from underneath his arm. “Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Chaston.”

“Anytime, sweetheart, anytime; we have plenty of room! And call me Will!”

“Mina!” Darien hugged her from behind. “Glad to see you! Before you get comfortable, may I just say, for the record, that I did absolutely nothing to Kevin’s damn television remote other than use it for its intended purpose? He’s just gets confused by anything that has more than two buttons, which probably makes him an absolute dynamo in the sack, am I right? Sorry for you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You suck.”

“Very well, actually, fortunately for my wife. Where is the big guy, anyway?”

“Upstairs, putting our bags away.”

“Ah good!” Will clapped hand to her back and led her away. “Let me give you the tour in the meantime. As long as you are here, please make yourself at home, and if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask. Now I must ask: do you like scotch?”

She shrugged. “I like anything that takes the edge off.”

He laughed. “Then I have something you need to try. How about jazz?”

“Love it.”

“Oh, goody, we’re going to be best friends!”

*************************************************************
Kevin’s father did most of the talking through dinner, which was served in a giant dining room that Mina swore was in a movie of some sort. At least there were no butlers like in the movies, just one older woman who cooked and served and rolled her eyes when Serena tipped over the bowl full of au jus.

“So, where did you and Kevin meet?” Will asked, clicking a remote and changing the background music from jazz to Motown.

Mina’s mind raced, trying to come up with something believable. She took a sip of wine, trying to buy time. Kevin shot a look to Darien.

“I introduced them!” he announced. “I’ve known Mina since her first year of school, and when Kevin moved into the city I thought what better way to feed his burning fascination with the arts than to hook him up with one of the more, ah, visually stimulating artists in the district. In fact, he was so concerned with the aesthetics of his new place that he came over and practically begged me for that painting in the guest bathroom. You know, the one with the teeth?”

“So that’s what happened to my painting,” Mina said through gritted teeth.

“Begged, I tell you. He was practically groveling. How could I refuse?”

“What did you do to my remote?” Kevin interjected.

“For the last time, nothing! Did you try and take the batteries out? Sometimes that will reset it if it’s, I don’t know, dropped in a sinkful of water or something. I’m just saying.”

“You asshole.”

“Please do not use that kind of language at the table,” Mrs. Chaston scolded. Aunt Kathy tossed a disdainful look at the younger group.

Darien chuckled. “You just got yelled at by your mom.”

“You owe me a remote.”

Mrs. Chaston was determined to change the subject. “So, Mina, what exactly do you do?”

She furrowed her brow, a little confused. Hadn’t they already covered this? “Paintings, mostly, and sketches, pencil and ink and charcoal. Sometimes when I feel really creative I’ll try working with clay or mixed media to make three-dimensional pieces, but usually I just stick to canvas. I’ve done a couple of murals too, but those were commissions.”

Aunt Kathy spoke up. “So you just…paint? You don’t have a job?

Kevin clanged his fork to his plate and was about to unleash, but Mina put a hand on his leg under the table to quiet him. “It is my job.”

“I thought it might be more of a hobby. I mean, how can you support yourself by selling paintings?”

This time Darien was the one who nearly had an outburst, but Serena beat him to the punch. “Are you kidding? Mina is one of the hardest working people that I know. It’s not exactly easy to break into the art scene, even you are as incredibly talented as she is.” She smiled at Mina. “She’s dedicated her life to her art; she works hard every day and doesn’t have time for hobbies or even to watch TV. I for one am happy that she loves what she does and is good at it. I guess we can’t all be living off our second divorce.”

Will snorted laughter into his napkin. Mina sat motionless, trying to decide whether to beg Kevin to take her home that night or leap over the dining table and hit Serena with a high five. Who thought the petite little kitten had such claws?

Kevin’s father insisted on sitting at her elbow over coffee and pie. “Elaine hates it when I smoke in the house,” he said apologetically, gesturing at the open window as he lit up a cigar. “I hope you’re not too cold.”

“I’m fine,” she said, taking a sip of coffee to disguise her shivering.

“So,” he said, smiling and exhaling a plume of smoke. “Tell me about you. Give me some good stories, and in exchange I’ll try and remember something embarrassing about Kevin when he was younger.”

She really liked Will, she decided, giving an annotated history of her life, family, and school days. “When did you start taking lessons?”

“Um, I never really took any,” she explained, stirring her coffee. “My parents are both very, very good at drawing, and my father—he’s an architect—he gave me a piece of graph paper once to doodle on when I was about four, and I ended up drawing a picture of an egg, with a chicken running in the background, and it was, um, well, it wasn’t a typical, like, child’s drawing, you know? He said I got the lighting and proportion right on the money, and even the perspective, since I made the chicken smaller and higher up to show distance. I even did some shading, and broke down the chicken into smaller shapes and then blended them together. He told me that he knew then that I would do this the rest of my life.”

Will’s smile was soft. “He must be very proud of you.”

“I hope so. He still has the picture, somewhere.”

He reached over and took her cup. “Let me get you more coffee.”

“Oh no, let me,” she said, jumping up and heading towards the kitchen. She turned the corner, through a door, and paused when she heard voices. Some instinct stopped her from entering, and she pressed her back against the wall and listened.

“I didn’t mean to come across that way, you know that.” She heard Mrs. Chaston say.

“Save it,” Kevin responded. “You know exactly how you came across.”

“Darling, I just—“ She stopped and seemed to choose her next words carefully. “I just want to make sure that this girl, she’s not just with you because…”

“Because why?”

Another long pause. “Because of what you can give her.” He must have given her some sort of look, because she rushed to correct herself. “Kevin, listen, I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with Mina, I think she’s delightful, but you have to be careful when you date someone who has, well, who’s not as, well-off—“

“So what you’re saying is, be careful because she might be a gold-digger?”

“Your cousin Trevor—“

“Trevor’s an idiot who was asking for it. What did he expect when he ordered a Russian bride off of the Internet?”

“But still—“

“Mother, listen. Mina is not the person you assume her to be. I know her. And I’m not stupid. So I’m sorry that you’re disappointed that I’m in love with her and not some brainless debutante, but she’s not going anywhere, so you might as well get used to the idea.” Mina heard him crossing the kitchen floor and opening a door, most likely the one leading into the game room, where Darien and Serena were playing billiards.

She crept back to the dining room. “Will, I’m done with coffee. How about some scotch?”

********************************************************


She faked a headache and retired to her room early, where she changed hastily into sleepwear and slid into bed with a sketchpad. “Blue room” was really a misnomer, since most everything was white, except for the trim on the wallpaper.

A knock at the door. “Come in,” she mumbled, reaching for a gum eraser to fix a misfire.

Kevin entered, wearing only shorts, his hair wet from a shower. “Feeling better?”

She didn’t look up as she continued drawing. “Yeah, I guess.”

He sighed and sat on the edge of the bed, watching her pencil move across the page. He wanted to press her to his body, stroke her hair, something more physical that would make up for his family acting like snobs. “I have to confess something.”

“Yeah?”

His played with the sheet, pulling and creating a row of small peaks. “Um, this is hard for me to say. When we were at your house, it was me who made Bagels throw up.”

That got her attention; she raised her head and looked at him with those soul-killing blue eyes. He continued.

“You see, your mom made me take more pie after I finished the first piece, and no offense, your mother’s a sweet lady, but it was dry. Really, really dry. And Bagels was there, and I was the only person in the room, and he had been eating out of the garbage, so I decided I would just save him the trouble and gave it to him. He ate it, too. And when he threw up, you thought it was Jason, and Jason thought it was you…” He cleared his throat, unsure of why he chose this moment to confess to this particular incident. Until he had opened his mouth, all parties involved had considered it a cold case. “So, yeah, it was me.”

She was still looking at him, saying nothing, valiantly trying to conceal the hurt in her eyes that he knew had nothing to do with Bagels and his touchy digestive system. “Listen, my mother is a harpy. Serena and I are used to dealing with it, and the best way is to just ignore her because she’s just one person and we don’t take her seriously. And Aunt Kathy has been a troll ever since her son married this Russian woman that he bought—“

“You love me.”

That stopped him mid-sentence. He thought about a defensive maneuver; unsure of how she would handle this new information, before deciding fuck it, it was out there. “I guess you heard.”

She still didn’t speak, but lowered her pad and sat up. Kevin tried to think of something to say, usually he could do this, but this was a different situation; he felt as if his life hung in the balance by whatever she said next. He broke the silence first.

“Yeah, I do.” He looked into her eyes. “I just haven’t told you, you know, to your face.”

She slid over until she was next to him. “I haven’t, either.” She held her pad out to him. “Look.”

She had been drawing him, again, from memory. He flipped the pages, all of the sketches were of him in various states: driving, looking down, with glasses, without, sleeping, sitting, laying, standing, smiling. He glanced to the lower right corner of every sketch, right above her initials.

She had titled every sketch “Love”.

She made a low moan when he kissed her, and then started, seeming to apologize and silence herself. He slid one hand behind her head, into her hair, and lowered her gently to the bed, pressing his body against hers. She gasped again. “Louder,” he whispered. “I want my mother to hear.”



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