didn’t know whether she’d say yes.
“The theme for the piece is Empty. But like you noticed, it goes beyond the obvious empty seat at the end of the table. Because even though she’s there–the girl behind the cake–she feels as empty as the chair across the way.”
Evie leaned back into the seat and folded her legs beneath her, mentally putting her emotions in check. The last thing she wanted to do was burst into tears in front of him. Already, she could feel the color in her face, the burning heat in her eyes.
Calvin hunched deeper into the seat, lifting his foot and resting it on the opposite knee. The tender urging in his eyes encouraged her, gave her confidence to continue. He wanted to know more.
“My inspiration for this piece was … well, you know how I told you that my mother wasn’t a part of my life?”
He nodded, and she could barely believe she was about to go to this place with him.
“Well, she used to be–a long time ago–but she left one day. She said she’d come back in time for my ninth birthday, only she never did come home.” Evie spun the ring on her thumb once again as she considered how much more to tell him. “My dad was all worried about her at first, thinking something must’ve happened to her, but then he found out that she was fine, that she was just staying away by choice.”
Calvin cleared his throat. “How did he know that? Did she call?”
“She sent a letter, actually. To her own mother, who then told my dad. But it wasn’t until a few days after my birthday, after my dad put out a missing person’s report, you know? It’s weird, though, because before my grandma even told us,” Evie risked a glance at him, “I just … sort of knew she wasn’t coming back.”
“That is strange. Did that make it better or worse? Knowing.”
She gave that some thought, surprised by the certain ease that came over her as she opened up to him. “I guess both. Better because I could sort of start mourning right away. Since I was so sure she wasn’t coming back, I dealt with it. And it was worse for the same reason–because there was no room for hope. Jessica, for as long as she lived at home, hoped that Mom would come back. I always wished she would, even on that birthday I wished for it. But I never really believed it would happen.”
“That’s got to be a lot different from having your mother die, like mine did. More complicated.” The warm brown of his eyes held her gaze, reaching an inner part of her, filling her with a deep longing for more. “But we do have that in common, don’t we–that we’ve spent half our lives without a mother.”
Evie nodded, melting in the magnetic connection. “We do.” The words came out quieter than she meant them to.
The light above changed from yellow to grey in a sudden shift as a cluster of thick clouds floated across the sky, covering the sun. A breeze picked up just as the sound of the lawn mower grew louder. “My dad’s coming around this way. Should we go in the house to do yours?”
Calvin nodded. “I’ll grab it and meet you up front.”
As Evie stepped inside, she slipped further into a relaxed state. She’d made it through–shared her art, and her past as well–with Calvin.
Through the sheer curtains in the living room, she saw him close the Jeep door, matte board in hand. The old screen creaked as she pushed it open, and a gust of wind rushed over her body. “Storm’s coming in,” she said, loving the idea of a rainy night spent with Calvin.
“Looks that way.” The heavenly scent of cool spice and pine mingled in the breeze as he shuffled past her. Just the smell of him made her pulse quicken.
“Go ahead and have a seat.” Evie rounded up the books that lay scattered over the tabletop, creating a tall stack to lean the piece against. “Okay, let’s see it.” She took the board from his hands, anxious to view his project. Once she had it propped against the books, Evie settled into the couch,
“The theme for the piece is Empty. But like you noticed, it goes beyond the obvious empty seat at the end of the table. Because even though she’s there–the girl behind the cake–she feels as empty as the chair across the way.”
Evie leaned back into the seat and folded her legs beneath her, mentally putting her emotions in check. The last thing she wanted to do was burst into tears in front of him. Already, she could feel the color in her face, the burning heat in her eyes.
Calvin hunched deeper into the seat, lifting his foot and resting it on the opposite knee. The tender urging in his eyes encouraged her, gave her confidence to continue. He wanted to know more.
“My inspiration for this piece was … well, you know how I told you that my mother wasn’t a part of my life?”
He nodded, and she could barely believe she was about to go to this place with him.
“Well, she used to be–a long time ago–but she left one day. She said she’d come back in time for my ninth birthday, only she never did come home.” Evie spun the ring on her thumb once again as she considered how much more to tell him. “My dad was all worried about her at first, thinking something must’ve happened to her, but then he found out that she was fine, that she was just staying away by choice.”
Calvin cleared his throat. “How did he know that? Did she call?”
“She sent a letter, actually. To her own mother, who then told my dad. But it wasn’t until a few days after my birthday, after my dad put out a missing person’s report, you know? It’s weird, though, because before my grandma even told us,” Evie risked a glance at him, “I just … sort of knew she wasn’t coming back.”
“That is strange. Did that make it better or worse? Knowing.”
She gave that some thought, surprised by the certain ease that came over her as she opened up to him. “I guess both. Better because I could sort of start mourning right away. Since I was so sure she wasn’t coming back, I dealt with it. And it was worse for the same reason–because there was no room for hope. Jessica, for as long as she lived at home, hoped that Mom would come back. I always wished she would, even on that birthday I wished for it. But I never really believed it would happen.”
“That’s got to be a lot different from having your mother die, like mine did. More complicated.” The warm brown of his eyes held her gaze, reaching an inner part of her, filling her with a deep longing for more. “But we do have that in common, don’t we–that we’ve spent half our lives without a mother.”
Evie nodded, melting in the magnetic connection. “We do.” The words came out quieter than she meant them to.
The light above changed from yellow to grey in a sudden shift as a cluster of thick clouds floated across the sky, covering the sun. A breeze picked up just as the sound of the lawn mower grew louder. “My dad’s coming around this way. Should we go in the house to do yours?”
Calvin nodded. “I’ll grab it and meet you up front.”
As Evie stepped inside, she slipped further into a relaxed state. She’d made it through–shared her art, and her past as well–with Calvin.
Through the sheer curtains in the living room, she saw him close the Jeep door, matte board in hand. The old screen creaked as she pushed it open, and a gust of wind rushed over her body. “Storm’s coming in,” she said, loving the idea of a rainy night spent with Calvin.
“Looks that way.” The heavenly scent of cool spice and pine mingled in the breeze as he shuffled past her. Just the smell of him made her pulse quicken.
“Go ahead and have a seat.” Evie rounded up the books that lay scattered over the tabletop, creating a tall stack to lean the piece against. “Okay, let’s see it.” She took the board from his hands, anxious to view his project. Once she had it propped against the books, Evie settled into the couch,
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