Chapter 6
Chapter Six
B
"Where are you going?"
Doloris, the oldest student in the class, always has a question or a comment for everything I say. Sometimes I swear she's just here so she has someone to yammer at. She must get very lonely at home.
"I'm going to be in the Napa Valley area for a couple of weeks."
"Ohhh, I went there once with my late husband." Doloris continues on with a story that I'm only half listening to.
I glance around the room for anything to save me from the rest of her boring story and happen to make eye contact with Clover.
Doloris is so focused on her canvas and her story that she doesn't notice me turn my back to her so I can make a face at Clover.
I pantomime my impression of Doloris, and Clover starts to giggle.
Then she responds to me by faking falling asleep on her canvas.
When she pulls her face back from her painting, she has a glob of red paint on her forehead.
"Doloris, I'll be back in a bit. It looks like Clover needs my help."
"Oh, of course, of course. You go help that little sweetie. Gosh, it's so amazing how talented..."
Her yapping fades as I turn off my ears and walk across the room toward Clover. On my way over, I make a slight detour to the sink where I grab a clean rag and soak it in warm water.
"Hey, you've got a little…" I hold out the rag and point at the paint on her forehead, but she clearly has no idea what I'm talking about.
"Huh?"
"Here." I lift up the rag and drag it across her skin.
Her head flops back at the slightest force, making it a more difficult task than it should be.
"Hold your head still." I brace the back of her head with my other hand and attempt another wipe with the rag.
Unfortunately, all I'm managing to do is smear it.
"What are you doing?"
"You have paint on your forehead, you goofball."
"What?" Before I can stop her, she reaches her hand up and touches her forehead, smearing the red paint even more and getting it all over her hand in the process. "Uh oh."
I huff a laugh with my lips pressed tight. Kids. Always making a big fucking mess. As I wipe her hand and her forehead clean, I start to wonder if this is how Lou feels when she's cleaning up my messes.
"There you go. All clean."
"Thank you."
"Yeah, yeah. Just don't go sticking your forehead on any more wet canvases, okay?"
Her giggle reminds me of Iris, so sweet and innocent.
“I was just trying to add a personal touch to my piece.”
I guess she’s only sweet until she opens her sassy little mouth. Then she sounds just like me.
I turn my head to assess the damage she’s done to her work, curious about how she wouldn't have noticed a forehead-sized smudge in her painting.
The canvas that last class was just a field of daisies is now morphing into a real work of art. The part where her forehead likely landed is a red and orange sunset, dipping down behind rolling hills covered in small white and yellow flowers.
"What do you think?"
"It's actually pretty good, kid."
"I know."
I hold back my smile and look down at her admiring her own work. "I love the confidence."
"What you said last time reminded me that my mom always said a girl's greatest weapon is her underwearing confidence."
Though I'm pretty sure she meant to say unwavering instead of underwearing, I let it slide. I get the point. "Sounds like your mom's a pretty smart lady."
"Yeah, she was."
I'm unsure if she meant to say was instead of is, but I'm not about to get into this girl's trauma here in the middle of class, so I drop it. Last week, I saw a lady pick her up from class, but I didn't ask who it was. Should I have asked? God, what if I let her go home with a complete stranger?
"Well, keep up the good work and watch the wet paint."
Her grin is impossible for her to contain, and it makes my heart feel warm and fuzzy knowing that my compliment could make her so happy.
Maybe this is what Iris likes about teaching kids?
But god, you could not pay me enough to have a whole classroom of these.
No amount of warm and fuzzy feelings could outweigh the abundance of messes, crying, and sticky fingers.
I'm snuggled in at home, watching a movie with Fia, when my phone buzzes. It's an unknown number.
Unknown Number
Hey, it's Kass. Just checking in to see how you're healing.
B
Do you check in on all your clients?
Or just your favorite ones?
Also, how did you get my number?
Prior to my appointment, we had only been messaging through social media.
Kass
The forms you filled out. Hope it's not an invasion of your privacy.
B
You literally had your face by my tits for 3 hours.
Kass
Fair enough.
So, how are things healing?
B
Good.
It's less red than days one and two, but now it's starting to get a little itchy.
Kass
Good.
I lift my shirt, snap a picture of my healing tattoo, and send it to him.
"What are you doing?" Fia asks from the other side of the couch.
"Sending my tattoo artist a pic of my new piece."
"The hot one?"
"Yeah, the hot one."
Kass
Looks great.
B
So.......
Kass
So?
B
When are you going to ask me out?
Kass
Now?
B
Good boy.
Kass
Has anyone ever told you that you come on a little strong?
B
Of course!
It's my favorite compliment.
Kass
You're trouble.
B
But you seem like a guy who likes a little bit of trouble.
Kass
I might.
B
Then I'm just your flavor.
Kass
You're something, that's for sure.
So, where do you want to go on a date?
B
I don't date.
Kass
***
B
Sorry, when I say "go out," I mean leave my house and meet you somewhere for a drink before you take me back to your place.
Was that clear enough?
Kass
So I can't take you on a real date first?
B
No.
Kass
Is this a trick?
B
Do I seem like someone who would play games?
Kass
You absolutely do.
No offense.
B
None taken.
"What the hell’s got you smiling so much?"
I look over at Fia and just now realize that she paused the movie. "Nothing. Just fucking with him."
Fia shakes her head at me. "Quit torturing the poor guy."
"He's fine. He's dishing it right back."
"Good boy."
Of course she’d say that. "That's what I told him!"