Chapter 6 #2
“I almost didn’t include this one,” Delphine said, her voice quieter now. “It’s not the showstopper. People tend to walk past it. But the series doesn’t work without it.”
“Because it’s the numb part,” I said.
She turned to look at me, her eyebrows raised. “Yes. Exactly.”
We moved to the fourth. Something changed in the palette, a warmth buried in the blue, an amber undertone pushing up from beneath the surface like light trying to reach the top of the water.
“This is the turn,” Delphine said.
“I can feel it.”
“Most people say that, even if they can’t explain why. It’s the color temperature. Maren shifts from cool to warm so gradually that your eye registers it before your brain does.”
The fifth painting was the one that stopped me. Pale blue and silver, almost translucent, like the ocean at dawn before the wind comes up. There was so much gentle light in it. Like the first morning after a bad storm, when everything was fresh and new. A new beginning.
“This is my favorite,” Delphine said, with a slight smile.
“Why?”
She was quiet for a moment. “I love the colors but also the way it makes it easier to breathe. For me.”
“Is it hard for you to breathe?” I asked.
“Sometimes.”
“I get that. And I feel all that in the painting too. It’s like a book you want to read over and over because of the way it slows a racing mind.”
“That’s right. This one reminds me of someone I know,” Delphine said. “Someone who has that same vibe.”
“They must be a nice person to spend the weekend with.”
“I wouldn’t know.” She fiddled with her necklace again, her expression pensive. “I wish I did, though.”
Questions nearly burst out of my mouth, but she moved us to the last piece, and I followed.
The sixth was wide and open—sky and sea finally distinguishable from one another, a clear horizon line for the first time in the series.
The colors were blues and silvers, with a band of white where they met.
I had to stare at it for a few minutes to understand what was bothering me.
I’d expected a resolution to the story. A happy ending, like a sunset or a sunrise or anything that promised everything would be fine.
Instead, it was just all this space. And we had to figure where it took us next.
I stared at it, aware that Delphine was watching me, probably waiting for me to say something.
“What is it?” Delphine asked. “What do you see?”
“I assumed it would be a happy ending. All wrapped up nice and neat.”
“Like a sunset?”
“Yes. Or a sunrise. But it’s more of a question. Like, what’s next? There’s all this space, and now you have to decide what to do with it.”
She didn’t respond right away. When I turned to look at her, she had gone completely still, her gaze on the painting. “That’s it. That’s the story I was trying to tell.”
“You nailed it,” I said.
“Dorian.” Someone touched my elbow. It was Esme, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think Poe is making a break for it.”
I turned just in time to see a flash of orange disappear through a doorway behind the front desk.
“Was that—did he just go into my office?” Delphine asked, her composure cracking just slightly.
“I’ll get him,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, wait. You can’t just go back there. I have—there are things on my desk.” She was already walking, heels clicking on the hardwoods. “Let me.”
I followed her anyway, because it was my cat. Or my store’s cat. Right now, I didn’t really want to claim him at all.
Her office was exact and tidy, like everything else about Delphine.
A glass desk, a lamp with a linen shade, a single potted orchid on the windowsill.
And there, next to a half-eaten sandwich and a cup of cold coffee, was The Year of Magical Thinking.
Facedown, open to a page about a third of the way through.
A quick glance told me she’d seen me see it. A muscle in her cheek flexed, and she lifted her chin slightly. However, she didn’t say anything. Neither did I.
Poe, the naughtiest cat in the world, had wedged himself under a low wooden cabinet against the far wall, in the narrow gap between the bottom shelf and the floor. How he’d fit was a mystery of physics. Only his tail was visible, flicking back and forth as if to taunt us with his cleverness.
“Poe,” I said, crouching down. “Come on, buddy. Time to go.”
The tail stopped moving. Then resumed. He was ignoring me.
“Poe. Let’s go.” I reached under the cabinet but couldn’t get close enough without pressing my face to the floor. My fingers grazed fur, and Poe shifted further back.
“I don’t think he’s coming out for you,” Delphine said.
With my gaze still on Poe’s backside, I said, “He never does anything I want him to do. Honestly. You said you want a cat? You can have him.”
“I think he prefers books to art,” Delphine said. “But that’s just a guess.”
“This cat’s going to drive me completely mad. If my mother hadn’t loved him so much I’d take him down to the shelter.”
“You don’t mean that. Let me try.” She walked over and crouched down next to me. The scent of her perfume, warm and slightly sweet, hit me, and I temporarily lost the ability to think about the cat or anything else.
“Poe,” she said softly. “Come here, sweet boy.”
I’d never heard that tone in her voice before. Not even with Annie or the other kids. Was it possible she had a soft spot for the worst cat ever?
A low purr started up from under the cabinet. I could hear it vibrating against the wood floor.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I sat up, resting my back against the wall.
“Poe, baby. Come on, it’s time to go.” She reached under the cabinet with one hand and Poe emerged like he’d been waiting for an invitation, pressing his head into her palm, eyes half-closed. He walked right past me and jumped into her chair, curling up like he was ready for a long nap.
“He hardly ever purrs,” I said, again. Because apparently it needed to be pointed out a second time.
“Maybe he knows I need it.” She picked Poe up, and he settled against her chest like he’d been doing it his whole life, one paw draped over her shoulder.
The image of Delphine Delacroix in her elegant gray dress holding my enormous, badly behaved orange cat was something I suspected would stay with me for a long time. Not good.
“I’m sorry about Poe,” I said, standing up. “I’ve never seen him show any interest in leaving the shop.”
“Maybe he likes me,” Delphine said. “I’ve always been more popular with cats than people. They get me.”
That made me laugh, even though it was sad. “I like you.” Even if I don’t get you.
She made a sound, somewhere between a gasp and sigh. In fact, it sounded almost like the noise Poe made right before he got his daily dish of wet food. “That’s nice.”
“This is the spot where you’re supposed to say you like me too.”
That earned a laugh from her. “As it turns out, you’re impossible not to like.”
“Well, then, I guess I have something to thank Poe for, after all,” I said.
She handed Poe over, and our hands brushed in the transfer. Just fingers against fingers, brief and accidental. She pulled back first.
“I think I might come to Thursday’s meeting,” Delphine said.
“Yeah? What made you change your mind?”
“I had one of those heart-to-heart talks with Seraphina. The uncomfortable kind.”
“Sure, I’ve had those before,” I said. “When they say something so obvious that you can’t believe you didn’t figure it out yourself?”
“Yep, just like that.”
“What did she say?” I asked, even though it was none of my business.
“She said I should stop punishing myself for Jon's death and start living again, and I told her I didn’t know how, and she said maybe I should try a meeting and see if that helps.” She took in a breath after such a long and rapid sentence.
“So I’m going to.” Flushing, she reached out to pet Poe’s head.
I waited a beat before I said, “I’m glad. You’re too smart and funny and beautiful to be living any other way than out loud and unapologetic.”
Her mouth dropped open. Poe shifted in my arms, looking at Delphine, as if waiting for her to say something back to me.
“That’s a really nice thing to say,” Delphine said after a second or two. “And I have a feeling that comes natural to you. You just know what to say and how to make people feel … good. I’m not great at reciprocating. But you’re … kind of like the painting that makes it easier to breathe.”
“See? Now, that was a ten out of ten on the making me feel good scale,” he said.
We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment too long. Like our touch, she drew away first.
“I should get back.” Delphine gestured toward the main room.
“And I should get this absolute tyrant back to the shop,” I said. “Thanks for walking me through the exhibit. Really impressive.”
She thanked me, and I followed her out of her office, with Poe still in my arms. A few guests smiled at us on the way out. Madison waved. Esme winked at me. I have no idea why.
Outside, the evening air was warm and smelled like salt. Poe was heavy in my arms, already half asleep, completely indifferent to the chaos he’d caused.
“You’re a menace,” I told him.
He purred.
“So now you purr?”
He didn’t reply.