Page 50 of Artfully Wild
Well, it’s business the girls and I have tried to make our own when Charlotte moved here and instantly butted heads with him, but we quickly figured out we weren’t going to get anywhere with our questions so we stopped asking. That doesn't mean I don't tease her every once in a while.
“So, what’s next?” Jacob asks from his spot on the floor where he is sitting criss-cross, a gray tabby cat snoozing in his lap, his tail curled around his small body. We’ve been working non-stop all day on sketches so we could get the base down on canvas and go in with paint later. He’s made multiple trips to the shelter or his house to grab a new animal for me to sketch and with each experience, I can feel my confidence coming back. The confidence I felt when I was painting regularly or when I was sketching a long time ago in my books. I’ve missed it.
“Well, you can take Gus back to the shelter while I start painting.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Don’t you want to get him back? You still have time to go to Frank’s if you want.” I attempt to hold back the hope in my voice that he says no. I want him to stay, but I don’t want him to feel like he has to. There’s not really much for him to do now that the sketch is done.
“And miss an opportunity to sit here and watch you do something you love? Never. I’ll stay right here, sweetheart.”
“But you’re always at Frank’s on Tuesdays?”
He leans back on his hands, careful not to disturb Gus’ slumber. “And why do you think I go to Frank’s every Tuesday night?”
“The karaoke?”
“Because you know I long to belt out “Flowers”every Tuesday night.”
“That’s the perfect song for you actually. And youcanbuy yourself flowers,” I respond.
“Well, well, well, how they turntables,” Frank squawks. At first I didn’t mind having him along, because Gus likes playing with him and I need to get a portrait done of Frank anyway, but I’m starting to regret having him here.
“I’d rather buy them for you.” We’re both ignoring the bird then.
There’s a pause and we let it hang between us like a web swaying in the wind, desperate to cling on to whatever is holding it into place.
“I go every week, because I like going with you. I like having fun with you there. And dancing with you. It was a way to be close to you without showing my feelings even though we both kind of were now that I really think about it. But Iwantto be where you are and if that is here watching you paint, then I’ll have the time of my life sitting here doing it with a cat napping in my lap.” Gus stirs to stretch out his legs before settling back in, his body stretched out now. “In fact, I have no idea what better way there would be to spend a Tuesday night.”
“I have some ideas.”
“Keep those ideas to yourself, Waters, or else we’ll never get done. Is there anything I can do to help? I do feel a little useless just sitting here watching.”
Busying myself with movements that are second nature, I start laying out my paint supplies and grabbing colors to mix for Gus’s fur. “You just being here is more than enough.”
After that the only sounds are the strokes of my brush along the canvas, Gus shifting and purring here and there, and thesharp intake of breath when I look over my work and make eye contact with Jacob. It takes everything in me to return my focus back to the detailed markings on the cat’s head. Dark lines in between his ears, stretching right above his light green eyes. Jacob’s hand comes between his ears, blocking the exact section I’m trying to get on the canvas.
“Move your hand.”
“Always so demanding.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SKYLAR
The next few days pass like a montage in a ‘90s romcom. I paint, while Jacob watches or tells me little details about one of the shelter animals.
We end up on the floor more times than I can count exploring each other while also continuing to find out our likes and dislikes. Time passes with laughter and love. I never knew I’d have a love like this. I never let myself believe someone could love me the way Jacob loves me. I assume he does at least. Neither of us have actually said the words out loud, but I don’t think we have to.
More often than not I glance over the top of my canvas to look at him and of course, he’s already looking at me, his eyes roving over not only my face, but my body and the paint stains on my overalls.
This is what love is. Just being together and being there for one another no matter what. Laughing together. Getting messy. Love is messy and we are more than messy, but I love it.
I lovehim.
I think that’s something I realized the second my lips landed on his for the first time. I just was too afraid to let myself divedeeper than I already was. I should have told him last night, but everything was so new. It’s still new, but we have gotten into the rhythm with each other.
Jacob wraps his arm around me tighter and pulls my legs onto his lap. We are curled up on his couch with the fireplace going andHow the Grinch Stole Christmasplaying on the TV.
