Page 76 of That Fake Feeling
“Seriously.”Heprods my shoulder with the spoon. “Thephotographer and video guy are in here, so you have to look delighted.”Heflashes me a dazzling smile that would make my belly flutter if it weren’t so full of dread. “Andlike you couldn’t love me more for doing it.”
“NowI’mabsolutely terrified.”
Hepushes the plastic aside with his back and ushers me in.
Andthere, on the opposite side of the music room, the three kids from outside are at work finishing off a giant mural that covers the whole end wall.
Isense my mouth fall open. “Whatthe hell?”
“Rememberyou love it,” he whispers. “Andme.”
Themural’s made up of every musical instrument you could name set against a background of swirling sheet music and dancing notes.
Oneof the kids sits cross-legged on the floor, painting the shiny black legs of a piano whose keys are pressed under invisible fingers.
Atone side, another of the children carefully paints vertical white lines forming the strings of a harp.Andat the other side, the third kid is halfway up a ladder, adding musical notes coming from some steel drums.
It’sbrilliant.Beautifuland brilliant.
“Whodrew all that?”Iask him, barely able to take it all in.
Connorcasually leans his shoulder against the wall and swallows another spoonful of ice cream. “Idid.”
Whatis he talking about?
“Youdid?”Igaze back at the elaborate mural. “What?How?Idon’t understand.”
“Figuredit’d be nice to have something other than plain white everywhere.So,Iasked all the kids what instruments they play or would like to play, looked up some pictures on my phone, then sketched them out on the wall.Theyeach took an instrument to paint, andIdid the background.”
Thisis a lot to take in.Notonly isConnorapparently awesome with kids and can play the guitar, he’s obviously a natural artist.
“It’s…Well,Idon’t know what to say.It’sremarkable.”
“Thekids did a great job.”Hepoints up to one corner. “I’mnot sure the bagpipes are quite right.Imight have left off a pipe.AndGodhelp the parents of the kid who wants bagpipes if she ever gets her hands on them.”
I’msuddenly aware of the photographer and video guy who must have been snapping and filming away this whole time.
Itry to make myself smile but realizeIcan’t smile any more thanIalready am.
“So, you can draw?”IaskConnor, that fact only now starting to sink in.
Hepauses to scrape the inside of his ice-cream tub clean.Hiseyes meet mine as he turns the spoon upside down, rests it on his tongue and slides it off, leaving a white streak on the pink flesh.
“Ican,” he says, after he’s swallowed the final morsel. “Oh.”Hesuddenly pushes off the wall and straightens. “Ialmost forgot.”
Heleans down and dips his finger into a pot of white paint near his feet. “PromisedSterlingI’ddo this.”
Hetouches it to the end of my nose.
20
CONNOR
Thebeer bottles inRose’shand clink against each other asIcarry the box of my favoriteItaliantakeout up the stairs ahead of her.
“Nowwe have the food to go with the beer, let’s hopeWalkerandMaxdon’t show up this time,”Itell her.
“Well, they might not find us if they do.Whyare we taking everything upstairs?”
