45. Brooke
45
***Brooke***
A unt Karlene found me outside of the hardware store, painting my heart out, later that day. She stopped her car in the middle of the road and rolled down her window to shout at me. “I thought you’d be having makeup sex by now!”
Someone honked behind her and she flipped them off. They honked again and then sped around her.
“Can’t have makeup sex if you didn’t make up.” I turned back to my painting and smiled up at it. “What do you think?”
“What do you mean, you didn’t make up? And the painting looks wonderful, honey.” She flipped off two more honkers. “God. People today!”
“I mean they told me to leave Beaumont! They think I’ve been cheating on them with Finn Love. They want me gone.” It didn’t occur to me that I was screaming across the street until someone who wasn’t Aunt Karlene joined the conversation.
Boomer Perry walked into the street to stop next to Aunt Karlene. “Those boys surely have more sense than that.”
“They don’t!” I crossed my arms and huffed. “They think I’m just going to crawl my way out of town, but they’re wrong. I’m not going anywhere. This is my town, too!”
Aunt Karlene honked back at someone honking at her. “Go around me, asshole! I’m talking to my niece! She got her heart broken!”
A woman in the car behind her leaned out of her window. “You have to get under someone new to get over someone, baby. That’s what I did to get over my late husband, Charlie.”
“Didn’t you murder Charlie?” Boomer turned to me. “Don’t listen to this lady. She’s batshit.”
“I didn’t murder my husband!”
“I told them I loved them and they told me to leave!” I stomped my foot. “If I had any tears left, I’d use them to drown those assholes. Good on you for taking care of Charlie, lady! He probably broke your heart, too. Men! They suck!”
“Hey, now.” Boomer grinned so big his teeth slipped out. “Dammit.”
“You were wrong, Aunt Karlene. I’m not marrying them.” I sniffed. “They hate me. And you know what? I hate them, too!”
“I didn’t kill Charlie! Don’t spread that rumor again!”
“I’m never wrong, Brooklyn.” Aunt Karlene saw Boomer was bent forward, picking up his teeth, and she slapped his ass before cackling and speeding off.
“What the hell was that?” Boomer stood up, put his teeth back in, and wagged his cane at poor, dead Charlie’s widow. “You keep your killer hands away from my goods, lady!”
I turned back to my mural after everyone carried on with their day. I just had a little more to add and it’d be perfect. Just a little more and I could say I finished something. I wasn’t a quitter or a runner. I was staying. I was finishing. No matter how miserable I felt.
Mr. Bob came out and set up a light for me when he saw that I wasn’t going anywhere, despite the sun setting. He stepped back and smiled after staring at the mural for a few minutes. “You had me worried for a while there, girlie. Thought I was going to have to burn the store down and leave town just to not have to stare at that thing every day. You saved it in the end, though.”
I ducked my head and smiled. “Thank you.”
“You know… My grandson is having a baby. His girlfriend thinks all the baby stuff should be beige. What the hell’s that about? Are you willing to work for a place to stay?” He saw my confused look and pressed on. “I heard you’re on hard times with your fellas. You were living with them, weren’t ya?”
I sighed and nodded. “I hadn’t even thought about where I’m staying.”
“Well, it’s me, your momma, or the motel. The motel’s got roaches the size of your hand. Your momma is your momma so you know how she is. Me? I’ve got a room at the back of the store. You paint the nursery for me and you can stay in the room for free.”
Given the three choices, I was taking the room. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
He handed me a key and nodded towards the store. “Just keep the front lights off. The law doesn’t like when I rent my own space out. Assholes.”
I turned back to the painting and bit my lip. “I think it needs a bit more before I call it a night.”
“The painting’s done, girlie. Step back and open your eyes. You’ll see.” He patted my back and then walked away whistling.
I did as he said and stepped back. What I saw made me laugh. The painting was a fucking effigy of my relationship with the guys. Colt’s boat, Logan’s truck, Noah’s hands, I’d even added in the treehouse in the background. It all came together in a cohesive picture of Beaumont that looked idyllic. Beaumont’s best side shined bright. The details were my guys. I’d painted them the whole time.
Dropping my brush into the cup of turpentine, my pained laughter turned into sobs. Swearing, I wiped at my face and gathered my supplies. I was done. It was good and I could be proud of it but I’d never be happy to look at it. It would always be another reminder of how much I loved Colt, Noah, and Logan, even before I realized that’s what I felt.
Dragging everything inside, I fumbled around in the dark until I found the room at the back of the store. There was a bed and a lamp but nothing else. It was plenty.
I stretched out on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. My thoughts spun. Tomorrow, I’ll paint a nursery for a beige mom who doesn’t want color. The next day, maybe I’ll paint someone’s office. The day after, I could start repainting store signs and force people to pay me, like those men on the highway who clean your windshield before you can stop them.
Rolling over, I turned off the lamp and closed my eyes. Just a few hours of lying in the dark before I could get up and do something to distract myself.