11. Pretty
TWO DAYS LATER
I sat at my easel and painted the sunset.
Tonight, the sky appeared different than it normally did, and I wanted to capture the essence of it.
A glass of wine sat on a table at my side, and Erykah Badu was floating from the speakers in the house.
I came outside to paint on the back deck rather than my studio so that I could take advantage of the cool and beautiful evening.
Although the weather was turning a little warmer during the day, the evenings were still a bit cool. I draped a wrap around my shoulders to ward off the chill. Lately, my thoughts had been straying toward Cassius less and less.
Spending time with Drew had made me miss having a partner to share my life with.
I wanted to move forward, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted from Drew—what he had to offer me or vice versa.
My life had been built in this house with Cassius, and I was working hard to let all of those memories go.
I prayed that my desire to be with Drew wasn’t driven by trying to purge Cassius from my heart and mind, because the last thing I wanted was to hurt Drew trying to replace my late husband’s memory.
“Knock, knock.”
The voice sounded from over my fence door to the right and jerked my attention away from my painting and solemn thoughts. I stood and cautiously moved toward the edge of the deck.
When I reached the third and final step of the deck, I saw Drew clearly. It was as if I had conjured him with my thoughts. It was always like that, though. Whenever I thought about him, within minutes, I would hear him working in his yard or coming or going in his car.
“Hi, there,” I greeted with a tight smile. I had been trying to take a few days away from seeing him just so that I could clear my heart and thoughts.
“Bonjour.”
I laughed at his rudimentary French. “Someone’s been brushing up on their French.”
Drew laughed in return. “Not quite,” he replied as he stepped inside of my yard when I pulled the fence door open. “That’s one of those words I think even two-year-old kids know.”
For some reason, I wasn’t bothered by his intrusion. I did want to return to my painting, but it was okay for the moment.
“Then there’s that. How can I help you, Drew?”
He waved the screwdriver. “I was just returning your property.”
“Oh, thanks. I’d forgotten about that.” I accepted the screwdriver from his outstretched hand. I really had forgotten about it.
“Figured I'd hold onto it for a while. Use it as my excuse to drop by if you start pushing me away.”
“Really? Well, like I said, I forgot about it.”
“You would be remembering it soon enough. I’m certain you’d recall it as soon as you needed it.”
“Can’t say I’m too handy with those. I call my handyman to complete any tasks that require one of these, or anything that resembles it.”
He looked skeptical. “Even to tighten a loose screw on a doorknob or a light switch?”
“Yep, even that.” I laughed lightly.
Drew scratched the back of his head. “Well, if there’s anything that you need at all, just call across the yard. I don’t mind helping you out.”
“No. I wouldn’t want to distract you from whatever you’ve got going on.”
“It would be no problem, Pretty. I’m not that nightmare neighbor you might fear moving in next door. Are you okay?” he asked, eyeing me closely.
“I’m just trying to breathe right now. I have decisions to make about my life, and I don’t know where they’re going to lead me,” I confessed, surprising both him and me that I was opening to him the way that I was.
“Change can be a good thing, but a lot of people struggle with it. I’m guessing you’re that person.”
“Change has never been an issue until, well . . . until a few years ago.”
“Are you thinking of moving?” His perception didn’t surprise me; Drew seemed to be a very insightful person.
“I mean, the thought has crossed my mind a few times. I’ve thought about packing up and leaving everything behind. My entire life as I knew it has changed in the last few years. I don’t know if that’s for better or worse, but it has changed. I sat back and allowed fear to box me in.”
“What brought that realization on?”
“Meeting you. It’s shaken up everything that I believed, and I’m not sure if I like that. I miss what was, and letting go feels like giving up who I am.”
“Sounds like you’re not sure you’re ready to let go of your past.”
I wiped the tears from my eyes as they fell. “I need to. I guess I thought I had, but now I realize that maybe I hadn’t, not completely.”
“Are you sure you want to just leave then?”
“What else is there for me other than to be walled in here?” I asked, spreading my arms out wide.
“Just make sure that this is something you’re ready for, and you don’t run out of fear of new possibilities. I didn’t mean to come and run you off, Pretty.”
“You’re not.”
“You sound like you have a lot of regrets about what happened between us. I want you to clear up your feelings about moving forward with your life and how you compartmentalize that and reconcile your past and future. I told you that weekend that I wanted to get to know you better, Pretty, but I want you whole, and I want you to want me too.”
“So, if I’m not healed, you don’t want to get to know me better? Because that’s what I hear you saying, Drew.” I felt myself becoming emotional, and I wasn’t sure why. The realization of that made me even more emotional.
“No. That’s not what I’m saying to you. When I say whole, I mean that I want you to be prepared to work toward releasing the past and not carrying it with you into your future. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“I do, but it doesn’t matter anyway. I told you that we needed to let that weekend be that weekend and nothing else.”
“Look, I want you, love. I heard you tell me that weekend that was all you wanted, and I wanted to believe you. It’s just that I can’t forget the way that you opened up to me, how you talked to me, and you let your guard down.
You wanted more than just sex, and I connected with that.
I won’t push you, but I realize that you’re not done with me yet.
I’ll be patient until you create space in your life for me, but I won’t share that space and try to compete with your past.”
I paused, twisting the end of the wrap around my fingers.
My emotions were raw, and I couldn’t afford to let Drew see that.
I quickly turned away. I had allowed Drew to see more than he should have.
I’d grown accustomed to being alone, with the occasional intervention from my family and the Johnsons.
Taking time to start something new was not a part of my plan.
“It’s like I said, I’m not ready for anything now anyway. I, . . . uhm, I’ve got to get back to my work.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. It was time to bring an end to the conversation and put boundaries in place. The casual conversation had already gone too far.
“No problem, beautiful. I sense when things are getting too intense, and I’ll never push you further than you’re ready to go. I’m sorry if you feel I’ve done that,” he apologized, backing up. “Once again, thanks for loaning me the screwdriver, and if you need anything at all, . . . call out.”
“Sure,” I replied.
I turned away, allowing him to close the fence so I could return to my work.
Only I couldn’t summon the energy to paint again when I sat at my easel.
I rested my elbows on my knees and hung my head low.
The creativity and energy that had previously flowed through me had ebbed away.
I didn’t have the inspiration I’d been running on.
Children’s laughter could be heard in the distance, as they tried to capture the vestiges of the sun before it went down.
Animated adult chatter from backyards, car doors opening and closing, horns blaring, and the occasional barking of a dog marked the spring evening.
In contrast, in my yard, all was quiet, and the chirping of the crickets was the loudest sound in my little haven.
All those things paired with Drew’s absence conspired to make me feel lonelier than ever before.
My phone rang loudly, interrupting me from my musing and disturbing the quietness of my backyard.
It startled me and caused me to jerk upright.
I picked up my cell phone and stared at my mother’s image smiling at me.
I welcomed the intrusion, because it was the only thing that would keep me from sinking into despair.