“She’s absorbed,” Sera decides. “Her handisinteresting, though. It looks like it’s about to move, like we’ve just caught her in this one strange position by chance. It reminds me ofthe heron you drew. Like it was about to take off, like we’d caught him unaware.”
I startle at the comparison. Sera’s always too nice to me about my work. But I try to humor her, gazing back at the painting and its moody lighting. “Really? This is so much more skilled.”
“It’s the motion, or the promise of it. I feel like you see that really well.” She shrugs. “Should we keep looking?” she asks, turning around and pointing to a small line into another room behind us.
I agree, and we join the flow of people moving through a contemporary gallery into a yellow wallpapered room smaller than my bedroom in Northport and crammed with art. Sera lets out a chuckle of disbelief.
“I bet it doesn’t feel like this in Paris,” she says, standing inches from a painting of a ballerina.
“Like what?” I ask as I’m drawn to a painting in the corner that looks like nothing more than a black rectangle.
Sera follows me, gesturing at the small space. “So personal.”
“You think?”
“I’ll ask Iris, but all the photos of Paris she’s sending look like you’re in these huge rooms with tons of tourists.” She glances around again. “Not in a tiny room with only six other people.” She sighs. “Maybe this is better, and Paris would just be disappointing. Maybe it’s good I won’t be able to do the fellowship.”
I wince and bite down on the instinct to beg her to take it back. What happened at her appointment is fresh. She can feel however she feels, but I also want her to know I’m not goinganywhere. I slip my arm around her and hold her to my side, continuing to stare at the dark rectangle in its gilded frame until it begins to reveal its secrets. Slowly, details start to emerge as my eyes get used to the black, and then it’s not black but gray, silver, blue.
“It’s a foggy ocean.” Sera gasps. “Like the Beach at the End of the Universe at night.” She sidles closer.
I nod, pointing out two small lights. “I can see two boats now.”
“And those lights, in the distance, maybe a lighthouse, or another ship?”
“Wow.” I’m floored, almost giddy with how impressed I feel from this one small painting. I shake my head. “I mean, I know there’s a lot of great art here, but wow. I could stare at this for hours. I bet you’d see something new every few minutes.”
“We could steal it,” Sera whispers, and I laugh too loud. All the other people in the room whip their heads at us.
“Sorry, sorry,” Sera says, laughing with me as we leave.
We weave our way back out into the courtyard and into the next set of rooms. Sera’s immediately drawn to a painting hanging in the far left corner of a woman with long, curly red hair. She drops my hand and moves to look closer. I can tell she’s thinking about Abbi.
“Have you talked since she left?”
She shakes her head. “I should text her.” She sighs. “Apologize…but not today.”
“Whenever you’re ready, she’ll understand.”
“Maybe.”
*
Over the next hour we make our way up through the building’s three available floors and then back down. The top two floors are much quieter and more open, with a lot of high ceilings, including a painted one. There’s so much gilt and gold, and so many little trinkets and letters. We talk about how we know we’re missing things as we move along, but you have to keep moving so you don’t get overwhelmed. You see what you can see, and you appreciate it before you’re swept up in the next thing.
I snap a selfie of us in one of the open balcony windows and text it to her. She turns quick and presses a kiss to my cheek, just shy of the corner of my mouth, and I take another.
“This is my new background,” I say, quickly making it so. Sera kisses me again and then asks if I’m hungry.
“Wicked, actually,” I admit, thinking of the last bite of eggs I managed to get before Oliver and Adam ate them all this morning.
We go down to the café and order giant iced teas, two sandwiches, and a few desserts. Sera sends a photo to Maddy.
“This might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” she says, reaching across the table and poking the back of my hand with her fork like I’m on the menu. “Are you having fun too?” she asks, taking another bite of the coconut cake.
“Yes. I wish it didn’t have to end.” I keep my hand in hers, Sera’s heartbeat in my fingertips.
“I saw a studio out there.” She tips her head toward the main hall. “I think anyone can use it. We could draw for a while?”
