Page 27 of The Art of Loving Ellie
Seeing that I have an email, and ten texts, I unlock my phone and find Alex flooding my messageswondering what I’ve been doing, and why I haven’t been responding to him.Groaning, I send him back a quick response telling him that I was asleep, and not purposely ignoring him. I let him know I miss him, and that I’ll touch base soon, and flip over to my back to open my inbox.
Tyler’s email has come through and I bolt straight up in bed, my heart hammering with anticipation. Opening it up, I quickly scan the message and see that it has a file attached to it:
Ellie, I have a feeling you will be pleasantly surprised by the
spread. Let me know what you think.
-Tyler
The attachment opens into five virtual pages I can flip through as if I’m actually looking at the magazine. The first page is an overall introduction and thorough history of the museum and the workings inside. There are a few pictures of the outside of the building, and some of the different exhibits within—all withPhotography by Tyler Mitchellprinted neatly underneath them.
I smile, proud of him, and move on to the next two pages that fold out side by side on my phone screen. I first notice the picture that he took of the bull with the sun setting behind it, and a generous section dedicated to Alex’s new painting. Again, I’m fascinated by the beauty Tyler has captured in his photos, knowing without a doubt that this article will be a hit.
Continuing to scan the pages, I see that the author of the spread accredits Tina and myself for an incredible night, and gives specific details about each piece that was presented. Suddenly, I’m forced to stop reading as an audible gasp leaves my lips. There are five total pictures spread out across the pages I’m currently looking at, and three of those pictures are ofme.
I pinch the screen zooming in on one of the photos of me looking longingly at Alexandre’sNew Beginnings. My fur shawl relaxes haphazardly over my elbows, and the glitter in my blue dress sparkles with light from the effect of the flash, giving me an ethereal appearance.
I can see the appeal of placing this picture in the spread. With my lips slightly parted, and a wondrous look in my eyes, Tyler has captured the image of a beautiful and mysterious woman lost in thought over the incredible work of art Alexandre Bernard has created.
The second photo is the one he captured of me chasing after him, playfully attempting to get him to stop taking pictures of me. My eyes are closed and my head is tilted back as I laugh, open-mouthed, and I appear to have given up my advance. The pure joy coming from the picture is intoxicating.
I turn my attention to the third picture, a stolen snippet of time, and one that I was completely unaware he had taken. I’m staring lovingly at Alex from the crowd while he dedicates his painting to me and our friendship. This one is black and white, but you can see the tears gathered in my eyes as Alex longingly looks back at me mid-speech.
My eyes wildly scan back over the pages, trying to figure out what would possess him to do something like this—but as I study the images more closely, I notice that I’m only the focal point in the first image where I’ve taken on a completely new persona. I breathe in a shaky breath. The talent it must take to give a single shot multiple viewpoints and perspectives truly awes me.
Flipping to the last section of the article, I see a large group picture of Alex and his fellow artists taking up most of the page. He’s laughing and holding his champagne glass up as if to cheers the reader, and his group of friends all stare at him, joining in the laughter of their shared inside joke.
The spread is wonderful, and I have to admit that I’m thoroughly impressed, if not a little bit stunned. I look over the images of myself again thinking how carefree and emotional I appear. It’s funny to think that looking at the woman in these photos—I desire to beher.
A woman who soaks up the vitality of her friends and co-workers around her like a sponge, and deposits that same energy back into the universe to feed other starving souls. A woman that takes chances, isn’t afraid to mess up every once in a while, and loves a good challenge—even if that challenge comes in the form of a six-foot-tall troublemaker.
Chapter Nine
Aunt Jane, Richard, and I sit in the breakfast nook on my last day, and just like every morning since I’ve been here, we eat breakfast together. Today, we happen to be playing an intense game of charades, and I’m laughing so hard at Richard I can barely breathe.
“Um, a moose!” I yell as he holds both of his hands up with all five fingers splayed out, and puts his thumbs to his temples. He shakes his head no and pretends to bend down eating grass, wiggling his hands again.
“A deer! A big buck?” He stands up from his spot beside me at the table, and still holding his hands to his head, he begins kicking his leg in a backward motion.
“Oh, you’re a bull! You’re a bull!” I smile at Aunt Jane, victorious, but he shakes his head at me again and sits back down with a huff.
“I’m obviously an Irish white-tailed elk.” He picks his coffee up to take a sip and has the nerve to glare at me over the rim with disappointment. I look over to my aunt in disbelief and see her snickering to herself.
“In what way was that obvious?!” I exclaim, and now she bursts into laughter with Richard and I following suit.
Rusty wiggles his big butt under the table at our feet, looking for snacks, and I sneakily hand him half of my croissant. I’m going to miss them all so much.
“You okay, Ellie?” Richard asks, putting his hand on my shoulder giving me comfort. It’s not lost on me that this is exactly what I’ve desired my entire life. Having a mother and a father figure to laugh and play around with at breakfast—offering love and affection wherever it’s needed.
I sit back and smile at their concerned faces, absorbing every ounce of love these two have poured into my soul during my stay here. “Yes, I’m fine. Honestly, I was just thinking about how hard it is to be leaving you guys today.” I reach across to my right and grab Aunt Jane’s hand, squeezing it lightly, and excuse myself to go gather my things to leave.
Richard loads my luggage up in the car while Aunt Jane and I say goodbye to Eddie and Verna. They have both taken a liking to me over my time here, and I giggle at the way they nudge each other out of the way, competing for my attention.
“Easy,” I tell them, placing a hand on each of their long faces. “I’m going to miss you two very much.” They lean over the fence that is separating us to give their soft, whisker covered noses each a kiss.
“I love you so much, Elizabeth.” My aunt grabs me and holds on to me for dear life. “You are everything I could have ever dreamed of in a daughter. I just want you to know that.”
I feel hot tears streaming down my face as I breathe in her lavender and lemon scent.
