Addison.”
He hesitated for a moment, and his heart accelerated. Had Erin mentioned him? “Yes. How did you…?”
“I heard your message,” she explained, nodding her head back toward the machine. “Erin’s not here.” She glanced down at the stack in her arms, decided to set them down, and realized she had ink on her blouse. “Oh, great,” she said. “Look at me. I’ll have to go change. Come on in.”
“No, I can see you’re on your way out. I’ll just call Erin later.”
Madeline looked up at him. “I’ll tell you where you can find her. She’s at the youth center, painting those murals.” With a wry grin, she added, “I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
Addison’s heart rate climbed again. “Youth center, huh? Okay. Give me directions, and I’ll go try to find her.”
Madeline jotted down the directions, and Addison headed out to find her.
A ddison saw her before he’d even come through the glass doors—Erin on a ladder, painting a mural of skyscrapers in primary colors. She turned to the side, shouted something to one of the teenagers working on the street at the bottom of the wall, and laughed like she hadn’t a care in the world. He watched as a dollop of red paint dropped from her brush onto her bare knee, and she pulled at her paint-smudged sweatshirt and wiped at it, smearing it across her leg. Stretching back up to reach the top of the building she painted, she revealed the baggy denim cutoff shorts, also smeared with paint, tucked beneath the baggy sweatshirt.
He pushed through the doors and heard the babbling sound of busy teenagers and children, all painting at various levels on the wall. Erin babbled right along with them. “How’s that look?” she asked anyone who would answer as she gave the red skyscraper a final touch.
“You ain’t finished, are ya?” a tough-looking kid asked.
“Well, yeah…I thought so.”
“What about the antennas? How can the people who live there get cable TV if there ain’t no antennas?”
“We aren’t going for reality here, Zeke. I don’t want antennas cluttering up this building.”
“Well, what good is art if it ain’t like the real thing?”
Erin laughed and climbed down from the ladder. “If it bothers you, go up there and paint antennas.”
“You got it.”
Erin wiped her hands on the back of her shorts and checked out the progress of a child of nine or ten diligently working on a car traveling down the mural’s street. The girl looked up and laughed at her. “You have red paint on your nose.”
Erin laughed again, setting Addison’s heart dancing. “That’s the only place you don’t have it. We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
Addison couldn’t help answering the question that wasn’t addressed to him. “That’s a matter of opinion,” he said. “If you want to know mine, I think red paint becomes you.”
Erin turned around, and her smile instantly faded. “How did you know I was here?”
“I went by your apartment. Your roommate told me.”
She grabbed a rag draped over the ladder and began wiping her hands self-consciously. Her formerly open expression hardened into a defensive mask. “Well…I can’t answer any more questions now. I’m busy. It isn’t the time.”
“I’m not here to ask you questions,” he said, stepping closer and lowering his voice to keep from arousing too much curiosity. “I came to see if I could con you into having dinner with me.”
“Dinner?” she asked.
“Yeah. You do plan to eat tonight, don’t you?”
“Well…” She looked around her, at the work yet to be done before the children would start home. “Not until I’m finished here. Besides, I’m not dressed. I—”
“Do you have an extra brush?” Addison asked.
“What?”
“An extra brush. For me.”
“But…you’ll ruin your clothes. You’ll—”
“Come on, let me help. I’m not too bad with a paintbrush, you know. My specialty is model airplanes, but I think I can handle this. And
He hesitated for a moment, and his heart accelerated. Had Erin mentioned him? “Yes. How did you…?”
“I heard your message,” she explained, nodding her head back toward the machine. “Erin’s not here.” She glanced down at the stack in her arms, decided to set them down, and realized she had ink on her blouse. “Oh, great,” she said. “Look at me. I’ll have to go change. Come on in.”
“No, I can see you’re on your way out. I’ll just call Erin later.”
Madeline looked up at him. “I’ll tell you where you can find her. She’s at the youth center, painting those murals.” With a wry grin, she added, “I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
Addison’s heart rate climbed again. “Youth center, huh? Okay. Give me directions, and I’ll go try to find her.”
Madeline jotted down the directions, and Addison headed out to find her.
A ddison saw her before he’d even come through the glass doors—Erin on a ladder, painting a mural of skyscrapers in primary colors. She turned to the side, shouted something to one of the teenagers working on the street at the bottom of the wall, and laughed like she hadn’t a care in the world. He watched as a dollop of red paint dropped from her brush onto her bare knee, and she pulled at her paint-smudged sweatshirt and wiped at it, smearing it across her leg. Stretching back up to reach the top of the building she painted, she revealed the baggy denim cutoff shorts, also smeared with paint, tucked beneath the baggy sweatshirt.
He pushed through the doors and heard the babbling sound of busy teenagers and children, all painting at various levels on the wall. Erin babbled right along with them. “How’s that look?” she asked anyone who would answer as she gave the red skyscraper a final touch.
“You ain’t finished, are ya?” a tough-looking kid asked.
“Well, yeah…I thought so.”
“What about the antennas? How can the people who live there get cable TV if there ain’t no antennas?”
“We aren’t going for reality here, Zeke. I don’t want antennas cluttering up this building.”
“Well, what good is art if it ain’t like the real thing?”
Erin laughed and climbed down from the ladder. “If it bothers you, go up there and paint antennas.”
“You got it.”
Erin wiped her hands on the back of her shorts and checked out the progress of a child of nine or ten diligently working on a car traveling down the mural’s street. The girl looked up and laughed at her. “You have red paint on your nose.”
Erin laughed again, setting Addison’s heart dancing. “That’s the only place you don’t have it. We’re a mess, aren’t we?”
Addison couldn’t help answering the question that wasn’t addressed to him. “That’s a matter of opinion,” he said. “If you want to know mine, I think red paint becomes you.”
Erin turned around, and her smile instantly faded. “How did you know I was here?”
“I went by your apartment. Your roommate told me.”
She grabbed a rag draped over the ladder and began wiping her hands self-consciously. Her formerly open expression hardened into a defensive mask. “Well…I can’t answer any more questions now. I’m busy. It isn’t the time.”
“I’m not here to ask you questions,” he said, stepping closer and lowering his voice to keep from arousing too much curiosity. “I came to see if I could con you into having dinner with me.”
“Dinner?” she asked.
“Yeah. You do plan to eat tonight, don’t you?”
“Well…” She looked around her, at the work yet to be done before the children would start home. “Not until I’m finished here. Besides, I’m not dressed. I—”
“Do you have an extra brush?” Addison asked.
“What?”
“An extra brush. For me.”
“But…you’ll ruin your clothes. You’ll—”
“Come on, let me help. I’m not too bad with a paintbrush, you know. My specialty is model airplanes, but I think I can handle this. And
Similar Books
