I turn the problem over carefully, keeping it at arm’s length in my mind, as we walk over to the open studio. It’s juststopped raining, and as the sun comes back out, steam radiates off the warm ground. Luke takes my hand and I think how loved I feel, how held, with such a simple touch.
In the studio, we set up at our usual spots. I pull out my third self-portrait and Luke sets up another fresh sheet of paper. We fall into silence and light chatter as we work. I’m starting to think that this one might finally almost be done, so I pull out the other two finished ones and stare at them all together. They’re feeling really strong, cohesive, as Iris would say. I take a photo and send it to her, then roll my stiff neck. I go stand behind Luke to see what he’s doing.
I’m floored by his drawing. A lean heron stepping one foot out of the marsh, like it’s about to run and take flight. Its shiny dark eyes look to the sky.
“I want that as a tattoo,” I say, leaning my chin on Luke’s shoulder and taking in the depth of detail he’s pulled out.
“We’re not supposed to get tattoos,” he reminds me.
“I think this is worth the risk of infection.” I kiss his cheek.
“It’s just a bird,” he says, shrugging, “and not a good one.” Still, he reaches out and adds some shading to the bill. The bird suddenly looks like it has quite a lot to say, if you can win its trust.
“It’s fantastic,” I breathe.
His hand stops, and he puts the charcoal down.
“You’re distracting me.” His eyes glint with trouble. “You ready to go?” he asks. He turns on the spinning stool and pulls me closer with the backs of his heels until I’m trapped between his legs. I lean forward and give him a quick kiss that I can’t quite break off.
He murmurs something unintelligible into my mouth and then leans back.
“Hmm?” I ask, playing innocently with the hem of his shirt. I let the thrill and heat of want tingle down my spine. Luke lets out a small groan when my fingers brush his stomach.
“Or we could stop by the Beach at the End of the Universe.” He sounds guilty asking, but he also kisses me again, slipping one of his hands up the back of my shirt, where it settles warm against my skin.
“Yes,” I whisper, moving away to pack up quickly. He cleans up too, carefully moving my paintings to the drying rack for me. As I’m grabbing my bag, Luke tosses his heron drawing into the trash can between us. When he turns away, I rescue it from the bin and fold it carefully before hiding it in my bag.
*
Maddy comes over Tuesday night when I’m too tired to meet her at the diner like we planned. She brings homemade granola bars, a list of YouTube clips on European backpacking wemustwatch, and very detailed stories about the chaos of summer people who eat at the restaurant. As she launches into another story about an annoying tourist, I try to keep up, but my brain just wants to shut off for the night. I wish tomorrow were Friday so the kids would have presentations and I wouldn’t have to do much. Just three more days, then it’ll be the weekend, and I can rest with Luke at the beach.
“Why so sleepy, sleeping beauty?” Maddy nudges me as Ishut my eyes for a second, and for the first time this summer, I hear a real tinge of sadness in her voice. My stomach sinks at the sound of it, but I recover quickly.
“Oh, you know,” I tease, rolling onto my side and propping up my head, “just falling in love. It’s exhausting.” I wink.
Maddy squeals, and Abbi comes to check on us, padding down the hall from her room and pushing her way in without knocking. She’s got gold under-eye masks on, so it’s hard to take the stern look on her face seriously.
“All good in here?” she asks, hovering.
Maddy assures her we’re fine and invites her to sit with us for the next video, but she leaves us alone.
“She always like that?” Maddy asks. I sigh dramatically.
“Lately, yes. It’s gotten a lot worse. She’s threatening to take another semester off this fall, but I don’t want her to do that. Dad worries it’ll reflect badly on her and she might get kicked out.”
“Shit.” Maddy grabs a pen and starts doodling on my ankle.
“Yeah. And she LOVES school and learning and everything. It’s so weird. I wish she’d just, like, get over it.”
“Get over what?” I look down at the heart Maddy’s drawing and laugh.
“Me dying.”
“Oh, Sera. I don’t think any of us are going to get over that,ifthat’s what’s coming,” she admits, drawing a sad face next to the little heart with Luke’s and my initials in it.
“I know,” I say, because I do, and yet I don’t because it’s different to be the one who might be leaving. My sadness andanger have a tentative end date, and theirs have to just go on as long as they do.
Thankfully Maddy pivots. “So…I have to ask…”
