Painted Memories (37 page)

Drew's fingers brushed over my shoulder. “Take as long as you need.” He leaned forward and placed a small lingering kiss on my shoulder, then another up my neck. His lips brushed against my ear when he whispered. “I have another question.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as his touch sent a vibrant thrill through my body.

“Will you move in with me?”

That was one question I didn't need to think about. We alternated sleeping at his place or mine already, and rarely did we sleep in our own beds alone anymore. Moving in was the logical thing to do. There was no sense in making two rent payments when we could share one. “Yes,” I answered.

“Why can't all your answers be so quick?” he teased.

“We practically live together already. It's a no-brainer.”

“How about we eat and get out of here? We've still got one more stop to make before we head home.” Drew winked.

I arched my brow. “Oh, really? Saving the best for last?”

He shrugged his shoulders and winked again.
“Maybe.”

After we ate our dinner and shared another bottle of wine, Drew drove back towards our apartment and into the next town over, Red Square. The anticipation was tortuous and I asked where he was taking me. He told me a few of Phillip's colleagues were having a show at the local art center and he was invited. Drew promised there wouldn't be any surprise paintings of past memories with my face on them, and we were merely going to support the arts. Simple enough.

The Red Square Art Center was a large, burnt-orange brick building with three huge white columns in the front. After walking inside, I felt like everyone was staring at me, but I knew it couldn't be because I was overdressed. Seeing the men in suits and tuxedos, and the women in their gowns, I fit right in. Still, I caught some errant eyes following my movements here and there, and I could have sworn
someone pointed at me once.

“I feel like an outsider,” I mumbled to Drew. “Everyone keeps looking at me.”

“Didn't I tell you once before that it's hard to resist the allure of a beautiful woman?  Nothing's changed.”

I shook my head and let the thought pass as I drifted by his side. We walked around, appraising the art with a sharp eye, taking our time as we moved from painting to painting. “So, what exactly do we do at these events?” I asked.

“Just as we are now, inspect the painting, and try to appreciate the effort and beauty of the work. Oftentimes, I like to read the name of the painting and figure out how the artist came to such a title. Most times it's easy, but I like the hard ones.”

“The hard ones?”

“Yes. Sometime the painting reveals the opposite of what the name is.”

“Why would someone do that?”

“It's up to the artist to decide how their painting feels to them. To the viewer, it could look like nothing more than a happy, bright, sunny day. But to the artist, it's a painful memory... or something entirely different. Art is all about self-interpretation. You see only what you want to see. Everyone is different.”

“Oh, I see.”

After Drew's little lesson, I read every title and tried to determine what the painting meant to me as well as the artist. Sometimes I thought we had the same view, while others didn't offer a clue as to what they meant.... which probably made it much more special to the artist, to have a secret meaning.

Drew lingered beside me, never more than an arm's length away. I loved observing him, so attentive and interested in it all. I did my best to listen when he explained this technique or that as we roamed from frame to frame. Occasionally, I caught him watching me, but I didn't let him know that I noticed.

I felt Drew slipping behind as I headed to the next painting. Walking closer to the wall, I read the plaque and gasped.

Title: (To Be Determined)

Artist: Drew McGregor

I peered up, suddenly weak in the knees. I froze in place as fat, hot tears instantly rolled down my cheeks. The painting was lovely and my hand covered my mouth in surprise, as I took it in. With a blurred tree background, a woman...
me
, stood barefoot in a meadow full of flowers. At her side...
my
side, she dangles her shoes by their straps.

A man...
Drew
, is kneeling in front of me on bended knee. We were painted in the same outfits we wore now... his suit and the sequined dress he bought me. I couldn't move. I knew he was watching me from behind, along with others in the room. I could feel their eyes on me, burning tiny holes in my back. Only now it was clear why people were staring at me since I walked through the door.

Suddenly, his warmth encased my back and I choked back a sob, knowing he was standing directly behind me. My hair was pulled to one side and Drew's voice filled my ears in a sweet whisper.

“There's one small problem with this picture, Lilly,” he breathed against me. “It needs a name. It was painted with one purpose, and only you can name it.”

I faced him. His eyes sparkled and I could see my misty reflection in them. “I thought you said I wasn't in anymore paintings,” I choked out.

“No. I said no more pictures of the past. This is the future. How I dream it.
You
are my future, Lilly. I want to be with you every second of every day. I can't help it. My past, my present, my future, you're all of it. And whether we get married tomorrow, or years from now, I want to know that you will be my wife someday.”

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I broke down
with a sob and covered my eyes with my hands. No words could form in my mouth. Drew planned all of it, the whole night, just for me. I was more than overwhelmed by his efforts. He wanted to run the studio with me, to move in with me, and for me to be his wife. The way he went about everything, backwards, completely threw me off. Gently, Drew moved my hands away from my face and pulled my chin up to look into my eyes. With a tender touch, he wiped the tears from my cheeks and pulled my left hand between us before kneeling in front of me on one knee. With a shaky hand, Drew delicately slipped a ring onto my finger. I burst into more tears when I saw the ring sparkling on my hand. It was a beautiful, solitaire diamond surrounded by a circle of tiny rubies.

“I never want to live one single day without you in my life, Lilly. Will you please be my wife?”

He waited patiently for a response as I tried to catch my breath. The tears kept falling and another sob threatened to silence my shaky voice. “Name... name it, '
Yes
,’” I mumbled.

He looked at me, confused. “Name what?”

“Your painting. The title should be 'Yes' it will always be yes, Drew. Always.”

Faintly, I could hear the room cheering as Drew stood and held my face between his hands. “I love you so much, Lilly.”

I kissed him then, like we were the only two people there.

The whole night was like a fairytale and now we had the rest of our lives to create our happily ever after.

E
pilogue

I

t is hard to fathom now that a year ago, my life hit rock bottom. Hell, forget rock bottom. I was ten feet under, with the ground getting hotter beneath my feet every day. Each day passed with a blur before my daughter came back into my life. She helped me realize what I'd truly lose if I continued down the path I was on. When she showed up that night in the cemetery, I was drunk off my ass and hated the world. When I found out that I actually struck her with my hand, I knew that was my last night of alcohol. Why it took that particular situation to stop me, I don't know. It certainly didn't change my feelings towards alcohol when I hit my wife. She looked the other way for much longer than any person should. Then one day, she snapped and broke a vase against my face. I was the lucky bastard that night. She let me sober up, then patched me up, and told me to get the hell out. Deep down, I knew it was for the better. I didn't deserve someone as wonderful as Sara. But instead of shaping up, I let the alcohol make me feel better. We both agreed to never speak of it to Lilly. She already knew how shitty I was, and neither one of us saw
any need to further upset her.

The good thing about attending rehab is it forced me to get my priorities straight and finally accept Jesse's death. I couldn't control his life
anymore than I could control anyone else's. Even before Jesse's life ended, I tried to keep everyone in check. Tried to make them stick to my absurd conditions, yet I would come and go from the office as I pleased. It resulted in a piss-poor relationship with Sara and being an unsupportive father to my children.

No matter how much therapy I received, I always regretted the life I led, and how I didn't try to be an example and show my children what to strive for once they had families of their own. My therapist told me all I could do now was live my life like I
should have lived it back then. By doing so, I'd be able to show Lilly how to overcome life’s obstacles and the importance of having the support of family and friends. I had no doubt I would not have made it this far without their encouragement. 

Now, my life had more possibilities than I could ever imagine, but it didn't include the knowledge to properly tie a bowtie. I'd been standing in front of the mirror in a small bedroom above The Plantation Gardens trying to adjust my tie for nearly twenty minutes. Why Lilly insisted that I wear a tuxedo was a mystery to me, but what did I know? I was only the father of the bride. I just went with the flow, did what was asked of me, and stood where I was told to stand.
Simple enough.

Giving up on the tie,
I drifted over to the window and watched the commotion taking place in the garden below. The sun had already set on another summer day, and slowly the lights on the trees started to come alive, imbuing the yard in a romantic setting of white, sparkling stars. According to Drew, this was their favorite place, and it cost me a small fortune to rent it out for the night. Lilly insisted on paying for it, but I wouldn't let her. Though I still had plenty of money, it didn't seem to mean as much to me anymore. I had enough to keep my family safe, secure and happy, while meeting all of their needs.

I heard the bedroom door open and saw Sara walking towards me. She was so damn
beautiful, I wanted to punch myself for letting her slip away. Her champagne satin dress fell to the floor as it hugged the curves of her body. She always took care of herself, stayed healthy and in shape, and it showed in her figure. I missed it terribly.

I missed her.

From my understanding, as told by Lilly, she was no longer with Earl. Something about not having any time to date and it probably wouldn't have worked out anyway. I wasn't sure, but I found it peculiar, considering we'd been spending a fair amount of time together and not once was she too busy whenever I asked her out to lunch or an early dinner. Hell, I was trying to get things back to the way they were... somewhat. I knew it could never be like it was before, but hopefully, someday, she'd forgive me for all the shit I put her through. I never stopped loving her. I just didn’t know how to show it back then. Only time would tell if I could mend what was broken. I sure as hell intended to give it all I had. Sara was worth it and I had a hunch that she still loved me too.

Sara linked her arm through mine and peered out the window. “Are you about ready?” she asked.

I turned to face her. “Yes... no. Can you fix this damned bowtie? It beats the hell out of me. I finally had to give up.”

She smiled, her dimples piercing each cheek as she tugged this way and that on my tie. “You never could get
these right, could you?”

“No, that's what I have you...
had
you for,” I corrected myself.

Sara rested her hands on the top of my shoulders and studied my face as if contemplating a response. Softly, she kissed my lips and it felt as if the world shifted beneath my feet. It was completely unexpected and when she pulled away, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and never let go. It had been so long since I felt her tender touch. I didn't realize just how much I missed it until she reminded me.

“You know, all you have to do is call me and I can come over...” Her gaze lingered on my mouth. “Just let me know, and I'd be happy to tie them for you anytime.” Sara grabbed my hand, curling her fingers with mine, “Now let's go, it's almost time for the wedding to start.”

I pulled her back. “Wait. I'm sure now isn't the time, but it's been on my mind and I've wanted to ask you something for
awhi—.”

“Jonathan, you always beat around the bush, just ask already.”

“Do you still love me?” I blurted out. “Is there any hope for us to get back together?” I had to know. During my stay at rehab, we wrote letters back and forth and she even came up to visit me twice. It was more than I could have ever asked for. We'd been divorced for almost nine months, and no matter how messed up I might have gotten on a drinking binge, she'd always call the next day to check on me. She was also a constant support during the ninety days I spent in Utah. Since I've been back, every time I asked her out, she accepted. I'll take it as slow as she wants to go, do whatever she wants, but I need a second chance. God knows I don't deserve it, but I need her in my life.