Page 19 of Portrait of A Lost Artist
“So, you’re an engineer, but you are also very good at drawing?” I say after a few minutes of silence, our eyes connecting when I spare another glance at her features to draw them to what I can say is close to perfection. Just because she is. I don’t normally look at my subjects this much, but with her, I feel the need to keep my eyes on her.
“I wanted to be an artist when I was a kid. Mom almost had my head when she figured out I was applying for art school in the States, and not education like my brother.” She adds, her voice tinged with a subtle, lingering tone of deception whenever she speaks of her mother. There’s something unspoken that hovers in the air, a complexity that runs far deeper than her carefully chosen words allow to surface.
“You know, being an artist is such a complicated thing...” At first, she must believe that I am trying to restrain her from a dream that she had, but I inhale deeply. “If you still love it and have the talent, keep doing it. Trust me. I’m only coming around to drawing again after two years and it’s been...one hell of a ride.”
“It brings back splendid memories?”
“I don’t feel like the man I was then, so this is the closest I’ve been to him in a while,” I respond, only to have her toying with one strand of her hair. “You’re unfair, you know that?”
Veronica gasps at my words, laughing shortly after. “Why? Where’s that coming from?”
“I wanted to learn Spanish and you’re making it difficult by just talking!”
“Well, I didn’t know! I just wanted to make it easier for you.” She says. “How long have you been here for?”
“Almost a month.”
“Oh, and you’ve been learning since then?”
“Around that time.”
“Who’s teaching you?” Veronica prompts.
I quirk an eyebrow at her. “He wants his identity to be unknown.” I play around, only to have her rolling her eyes at me.
“He’s doing an awful job, I imagine.”
“Not a chance.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can say you look stunning right now,” I respond in what in my head is horrible Spanish, but it makes her lips press together. Veronica internalizes those words, inspecting me with sparkling eyes and a hand to her chest before she chuckles.
“Trouble, that’s what you are, and I hope you understand that word,” Veronica responds in the same language, though she switches back in a matter of seconds. “You’re staying here for how long?”
“I’m not sure...I expected it to be a few months.” Though I don’t know how long it would take to heal the wounds that my heart hasn’t been able to close, for now, Cuba seems like a pleasant home for me. “Why? Are you missing me while I’m still here?”
Veronica scoffs at my words. “You’re unbelievable!” She retorts, clapping her hands together once as she laughs. “I just wanted to introduce you to a bit more of our town. I haven’t seen you around in so long, and my best friend is having a birthday party next Saturday. Cubans know how to celebrate a birthday, so you could come if you want...”
Her voice grows softer by the minute she speaks, and I am working on the apples of her cheeks and the gleam on them in the quick drawing before I hum. “Where would that be?”
“There is a salon nearby. A pub of sorts, but it’ll be closed then.The House of Lopez.” She explains. “I’ll send you the address if you give me your number. All the details you could need.”
“Sounds like a plan.” I’m not sure going to a pub is the best idea at this time in my life, but seeing Veronica is an amazing invitation. “...I’m finished,” I tell her, drawing a few more stripes of her hair before I watch her get close. The gentle dip of her waist created a mesmerizing silhouette, accentuating the graceful curves of her hips. Every contour flowed seamlessly into the next, inviting the eye to explore the delicate lines and soft valleys that rested there. It was as if each feature was meticulously crafted, embodying a perfect balance of strength and femininity.
“Let me see.”
When I turn the portrait around, Veronica immediately smiles with all her teeth; showing the crooked one she has on the bottom row, crinkling her nose, and trailing her fingertips on top of the rough edges.
“God...” She runs off her words, clasping the sketch to her chest. “You should have never stopped drawing, you know that, right?”
I nod, though I can’t say much else. It’s not like I wanted to let the artist in me die, but I couldn’t revive it in so long. I imagine the day my sister left was the day I went with her, too. My will to live and enjoy disappeared.
I run a hand over Opal’s fur, grinning at her. “My phone number is at the corner of the sketch. I hope we meet then.”
Veronica’s eyes hold sweetness to them as if she is unable to hide happiness when it bubbles within her. She nods at what I say.
“Sure thing. Thank you for being an artist, Nathan.”
