Page 81 of Smoke and Fire
Bright pink moss. Orange streaks on rocks mixed with various shades of mossy green. Her fingers had flecks of paint on the end of their stubby lengths.
Did Inessa channel a lot of her energy and day into her paintings? Or did they come easily to her? Clearly, she had a fair amount of experience to have them so well-crafted.
One of the smaller ones deviated from the natural theme to a representation of the kitchen at their Dad’s house. Another painting showed Psycho with electric blue streaks highlighting the whiskers. Somehow, she’d trapped Psycho’s affection for life in the painting.
As if she read my mind, Inessa asked Bastian, “How is Psycho? I miss her. I want to pet her.”
Bastian looked back to me. He motioned with an outstretched hand. I straightened and walked over, self-conscious in front of someone that meant so much to him. Inessa’s smile grew. He stood at my side, a hand on the small of my back.
“Dahlia has been taking care of Psycho while I was fighting the fires. She can tell you more about her.”
“Is Psycho okay?”
Concern layered her thickened tone. I nodded to put her to ease. “Doing great. She plays with me everyday and eats all her food by the time I’ve returned.”
“Does she have the metal balls?” Inessa made a circle with her thumb and index finger. “She likes the pink one.”
“She does. I’ve seen her play with them. She seems very happy.”
Her face dropped a little. “I miss Psycho.”
“I think she misses you. I try to pet her and hold her as much as I can, but it never seems to be enough. Do you want to see some videos of her?”
Inessa immediately brightened when I dug out my phone and pulled up my photo album. Bastian remained next to me, although the warmth of his hand faded away. Inessa giggled over Psycho's antics until the videos I'd sent Bastian were gone.
"Have a seat." Bastian motioned me into a chair next to the bed. "Inessa can tell you about her paintings."
For the next hour, Inessa gave me a tour of her work. She explained each picture, many of them associated with memories of her father and brother. Bastian displayed old ones that sat on the floor, filed and lined up by subject. Inessa explained her love of nature and mountains and the hikes that Bastian took her on when her lungs were better.
There had to be 100 paintings stored in various spots through her wide, spacious room. Whatever Bastian paid to keep her in such a place and stocked with so many comfortable clothes and things to do, it must be very expensive.
But oh, how happy she seemed.
My heart flip-flopped over this side of his life, filled with a new sense of determination. If I had to volunteer to work for Jess to make Inessa’s life comfortable, I would do it forever. Bastian could have all my money. I wanted Inessa to havethisfor as long as possible.
Given Inessa’s productive cough and reliance on oxygen, not to mention a generally pale pallor, that might not be long.
My heart clenched at the thought of Bastian dealing with losing his sister alone.
A tentative knock on the door, and a light voice calling out, drew my gaze. Inessa sat up in bed, her legs crossed, as she explained a few more ideas to her brother. She pushed her glasses higher on her nose and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Hearing aids looped the shell of both ears.
A nurse with spiraling, black hair cut short and velvety eyes walked into the room with a warm smile.
“Good morning Inessa! Good to see you again Bastian.”
“Hi Shayna,” Inessa said quietly. "This is my new friend, Dahlia."
A shot of warmth slipped through me. My heart couldn’t take the quick affection in her voice. I gave a wave and Shayna nodded to me. Inessa coughed, taking the tissue Bastian offered. It came away tinged pink. Was that blood? Her breathing had become more labored as she spoke about the paintings, but she didn’t seem to want to stop.
Bastian put a hand on her shoulder while she caught her breath. Shayna turned to him with a welcoming smile.
“Good to see you safe, as always, Bastian. Are you fighting the fire down the canyon?”
“Yes. Just returned for a few days. It’s likely we’ll head back.”
“Any updates?”
“Nothing exciting.”
