Chapter 8
EIGHT
Clarissa
Clarissa hummed to herself as she drove her campervan along the bumpy forest trail. The smell of the nearby forest came in through the cracked window and it was her favourite scent in the world. It had rained recently and it made everything smell earthy. If she wasn’t here to paint, she would’ve taken the opportunity to shift into her bear form and feel the wet forest under her paws.
She arrived at the agreed spot, her eyebrows raising when she noticed Dee was part of the group waiting for her Outdoor Painting class. When she had extended the offer, she hadn't actually expected Dee to show up but here she was.
She parked her campervan, badly, and hopped out. The ground was hard from the frost but she didn’t mind. She loved the way the forest looked during the beginning of winter.
Bork was already scratching against the inside of the door, desperate to be let out like he didn’t have a comfy bed and pillow at his disposal.
“Alright, bossy,” Clarissa said as she let her canine companion out of her studio on wheels. The smell of paint and turpentine wafted out together with a hint of dog.
Bork barked, his tail wagging enthusiastically from side to side. He loved these painting trips as much as she did and instantly greeted the class with excited yips and tippy taps.
Clarissa repeated her usual routine at the start of a class, which included greeting everyone and collecting attendance in case there was some sort of mass accident and the emergency services needed to know exactly who had been there.
She paused in front of Dee, trying to hide how pleased she was that the other woman was here.
"You made it."
Dee let out a shivery sigh. "Why is it so cold? Why did I think this was a good idea again?"
"Because you're going to have fun," Clarissa said, holding out the clipboard. “Signature, please.” She held the pen out, teasingly pulling it back at the last second.
The unimpressed look on Dee’s face held a hint of amusement. “What are you, five?”
“Five and a half,” Clarissa joked, holding the pen back out. It was too easy to mess with Dee, it always had been. It was also easy to remember why she’d developed a crush on her in the first place.
Dee hesitated for a moment before snatching the pen from her. She scribbled her name down with long elegant strokes, the letters round and long. It looked more like an autograph than a signature. Knowing her, it likely was. She handed the clipboard and the pen back with purpose, her eyebrows raised as if to say that this was how normal people did it.
A smile lifted Clarissa’s lips. Somehow, it made a very boring mundane thing kind of fun. That was the thing about Dee. While she was all stoic and distant, there was a lot more to her than could be seen at first glance.
Once everyone was signed in, she started pulling easels from the van.
“Let me give you a hand with that,” Gerald offered. He was an older gentleman who still dressed like it was the fifties and looked all the more fabulous for it.
He helped with the easels and passed them along to Rosemary and Beth, a middle-aged married couple who came to the painting sessions every Sunday. They were adorable together and Clarissa often found herself thinking she would love a relationship like that. A relationship warm with companionship and compatibility. Two people who completed each other in a way only fated mates could.
She pushed the thoughts out of her mind. Maybe one day. Right now, she had far too much on her plate to even think about romance.
While she unloaded, she listened to the chatter of the other students as they talked between themselves, picking up conversations from last week and starting new ones. It was an eclectic bunch of people from all over the valley that didn’t intersect in any other parts of their lives but Clarissa wouldn’t have it any other way. She liked that her class brought people together who wouldn’t otherwise socialise. That was the power of art.
Once all the paint materials for the class were unloaded, she turned to Dee. “I have an easel and a canvas ready for you. Do you need brushes too?”
Dee patted the large black leather bag slung over her shoulder. She looked out of place in her expensive but thin coat, her tight jeans, and shoes that were more beautiful than practical. “No, I brought my own. You can keep your Kingston brushes.”
Clarissa grinned. That was exactly the answer she expected. She reached into her van for the box of paint and held it out. "If you won't take my brushes, I hope you'll at least take the paint. It's a good brand."
The look on Dee's face was worth a picture. "Acrylics? I haven't used acrylics since... I don't even remember. I use oil paint."
"I know but trust me, acrylics are better suited for this type of painting. You don't want to sit here waiting for oil paint to dry, do you?"
"That's a good point." Dee accepted the box of paint tubes, her cold fingers brushing against Clarissa's.
She let go quickly and the box almost fell. Her shriek alerted Bork and he came her way, not to save her, but because he thought there might be food. He stuck his snout in the air, sniffing longingly.
Dee crouched down so she could scratch him all over, her voice softer and higher pitched than normal. “Hello! Hello! Who is a handsome boy? Girl?”
“Boy,” Clarissa said, watching the whole thing with pleasant surprise. She hadn't expected that her dog would be able to make Dee melt in an instant. The smile on Dee’s face was radiant and warm, making Clarissa realise that she hadn't been on the receiving end of one of those yet.
It almost made Clarissa a little jealous of Bork. A dumb wonderment flitted through her that maybe she would elicit a reaction like that if she turned into her bear form. She shook that idea away. That was ludicrous.
Dee continued in her baby voice. “Aww, you're very fluffy and soft. Yes, you are.”
Bork's tail couldn't go faster.
"He loves when you scratch his chest," Clarissa said.
Without missing a beat, Dee ruffled her hands through Bork's fluffy fur. “What's his name?”
“Bork.”
“Bork?” Dee gave her a frown.
“He does lots of barking. And it's short for Lord Borkington.”
"Oh, pardon me, Your Grace," Dee said, mock bowing to the border collie before scratching his snout in a way that made it clear she was used to being around dogs.
Bork flopped down on his side and rolled himself in the dirt rendering the bath he had earlier completely useless. He made a show of it, causing Dee to laugh even more.
Clarissa decided to forgive her dog just for that reaction alone.
Dee caught her staring. "Yes?"
"Nothing," she quickly denied. She cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the group. "Alright, everyone. Grab your easels and let's go. Be careful on the path, okay?"
It was only a short hike into the forest to their viewpoint but small accidents in a place like this could quickly turn into big disasters.
“If I fall, just leave me here to die,” Vanessa said with all the theatrics of a teenage girl, even pretending to faint.
Her girlfriend poked her in the ribs. “Oh my god, don’t say stuff like that.”
“Nobody is going to fall and nobody is going to die,” Clarissa said sternly. Even though she was only in her early thirties herself, watching them made it feel like her own teen years were centuries ago.
She gestured to the path leading into the woods, letting the outdoorsy Rosemary and Beth lead the way. They knew where they were going, this was a regular painting spot after all.
Dee looked appalled. “Wait, we’re actually carrying our easel into the forest?”
Clarissa nodded, quite amused by the reaction. “Sure thing. It’s called Outdoor Painting for a reason. What better way to put nature on paper than by being inside nature?”
“I’m not wearing the right shoes for this,” the other woman muttered, drawing attention to her flats with little bow ties on them.
"We're not going far and if you're struggling, you can lean on me," Clarissa suggested with a grin. Her comment earned a dirty look from Dee who instantly set in motion, just as predicted. Sometimes it was too easy
A rush of affection surged through Clarissa but she squashed it down quickly. That was not what was happening here.
It couldn't.