Epilogue
EPILOGUE
“ L ife is largely a matter of expectation.”—Horace
The difference between getting what you want versus what you need always seemed to be a very obvious concept to me. Now I’m not so sure. How can you tell the difference when you don’t know what you want or need in the first place? There must be a dose of fate and luck involved too.
When I was young, I wanted to be anywhere other than where I was. Life was too quiet, too boring, and too lonely. I wanted travel, adventure, and a sophisticated lifestyle. But travel is grueling, adventure, like beauty, is very subjective, and sophistication is a tiresome act to put on twenty-four seven.
I glanced up at the sound of a sharp bang on the front door. It wasn’t the knocking sort. It was the “something heavy landed with a thud” kind and probably took off a layer of paint. The door swung open a moment later and hit the back wall. Seth motioned for a man carrying a large rectangular package to enter and pointed to the wall behind me.
“Let’s lean it against that wall for now,” he instructed as he backed into the living room holding one side of a large canvas.
“Is that where you’re hanging it? I can help you get it on the wall if you want.”
“No, I have a feeling it’s going to take a while to find the perfect spot.”
“Ah. My wife is the same way, man. Can’t make up her mind to—watch your step.”
“Got it. Thanks. This is fine.” Seth peeled off a few bills and handed them to the mover who greeted me with a pleasant smile. Seth looked up at the same time with a devilish grin. “There’s my wife now. Hi, honey.”
“Hello.” I did my best to hide my laughter. Seth was a genius at leveling every playing field with his own particular style. No bullshit required or welcome. To his credit, the man shook my hand and thanked us both before turning to leave.
“Your wife?”
“Husband. Someday,” he declared, throwing his arm around my waist and kissing my cheek. He pointed at the blank wall in front of us. “I think we should put it here.”
I gestured to the opposite wall. “Hmm. What about that wall? The light is?—”
“It’s too bright there. I have an idea. Let’s hang it here and if we hate it, we’ll find another spot. What do ya say?”
“There will be holes all over?—”
“Then we’ll fix them.”
I rolled my eyes on cue.
“That’s the spirit. Help me unwrap it.”
We carefully lifted the tape from the corners of the giant framed piece and let the paper fall. My heart beat double time as the gorgeous painting was uncovered. It was breathtaking. I could hear Seth talking. Something about how high it should be hung for optimal viewing. I smiled, but I couldn’t look away from the vivid blues, reds, and greens on the canvas. “The Key Bridge in July with Paul.” Magnificent.
He’d managed to depict the grandeur of the bridge in summertime and make the viewer feel the heat and nonchalance of an easy summer day. The light blue sky, deep blue water, lush green grass dotted with colorful kayaks, and a red and white picnic blanket. And my shadow just to the right. It was a masterfully composed work of complementary hues and textures. Seth’s pièce de résistance.
The critics had raved. He’d received at least five lucrative offers for it, but he’d turned them all down. He refused to sell. This one was for me. For us.
He’d said bridges reminded him of hope. Opportunity. You never knew what might be on the other side. This painting was symbolic of a new beginning. It didn’t require words or explanation. I understood its significance the moment Seth presented it to me a couple of days after the exhibit. And I was once again humbled. He painted the light and scenery with careful precision. Balance, harmony, and rhythm. Qualities I valued and wanted. But not necessarily what I needed.
At least not all the time.
I need a measure of chaos in my life. I thrive on a particular brand that is pure Seth. Quirky, vibrant, and determined. Maybe he’s the missing link from my lonely childhood years. My cherished best friend who makes up whimsical games, dares me to do things I’m sure I shouldn’t, and invariably leaves me wondering how I find myself in the least expected places. He is my adventure. He is my anchor. And somehow, I know I’m the same for him.
It took me thirty-five years and someone eleven years younger than me to finally understand I was looking for the wrong things in all the wrong places. Travel and adventure are more enjoyable with someone you love. Sophistication can be overrated. And the road to happiness is paved with a good deal of compromise along the way. While friendship and truth are timeless.
“What do you think?”
“I love it. I’m utterly in love.”
Seth’s eyes crinkled playfully at the corners as he squeezed me tightly to his side. “You didn’t hear anything I said, did you?”
“Something about ordering takeout and massaging my feet, I think.” I widened my eyes innocently.
“Nice try.” He pressed a soft kiss on my lips and chuckled.
No one is really safe in this life. You aren’t alive if you’ve never been hurt. And you’ll never really live again unless you take a chance. I am a firm believer the best things in life come along when you aren’t looking and when you finally give up the notion it’s better to be safe.