“Whatever, you’re just mad I didn’t draw my boobs,” she says with a quick smile.
“You’re probably right.”
“Never argue with the artist.”
“I’m starving, come and get lunch.”
“What time is it?”
“Maybe two, two-thirty?” Damn, time goes fast with her.
“Should we get dressed?”
“If you want, but I’m enjoying having you naked.”
Skye shrugs and smiles. “As long as you’re happy to eat like that too. I thought it would make you lose your appetite.”
“Fuck no, it makes me hungrier.”
“For food?”
I smirk and say, “There’s a million ways to answer that, but I’m going to keep my mouth shut.”
“That’s not very suit of you.”
“You said no sarcasm.”
We make sandwiches, and sit to eat them at my kitchen island.
“Does your family ever come from Michigan to visit?” Skye’s arms flop to the counter, causing the sandwich to drop onto her plate.
“I’m an only child of only children, I don’t have much family.”
“And your parents?”
“We don’t speak anymore.” She shifts her eyes to the floor.
Oh, right. I move to her side, brushing her arm with my hand. Tears fill the corners of her eyes, and I clear them away with my forefingers. The tenderness of my action surprises even me.
“Sorry. I haven’t talked to anyone in person about it before, not even with Ava.”
“No one?”
“I Skyped and emailed my college roommate Amy a lot when I was first thinking about moving out here, but life moved on and now our discussions are on the other things going on in our lives, not the old news of my estranged parents.”
“Is that, I mean, was that…” How do I phrase that question? I want to shout ‘what happened?’
“They disowned me for using my grandma’s inheritance to move out here and pursue my art. After a lot of screaming and yelling and them telling me not to waste the money and that I was living in la la land thinking art can actually be a career, I stormed out and haven’t had any contact with them since.”
I pull her off the stool and draw her against me. No longer able to hide her feelings, she weeps into my chest. It reminds me of how I felt about the loss of my own parents.
“What hurts most of all, more than them not believing in me, is that the money mattered more to them than I did. And it wasn’t even their money — she left it to me.”
“They’re the ones in the wrong. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, but why? Why did they do that to me?”
“I wish I knew.”
“At least your parents wanted you. I’m not even good enough for my parents. Sometimes I think I was a mistake right from the start.”
“But there’s still a chance, Skye, a chance that they’ll realize how wrong they’ve been and phone you. Don’t give up.” The way I had to give up on my parents ever walking back through the front door.
We stand like that for several minutes. Though all my own pain feels like it’s suddenly rushed back, holding Skye in my arms calms me. Like she’s entered my life and finally plugged a gaping hole that’s been part of me for my entire adult life.
I would give anything to have my parents back. It’s a fucking joke that her parents are alive and won’t talk to her. Over money, for fuck’s sake. Feeling her sob against me makes me want to rush to her parents’ house and shake them.
“You were right to come out here and follow your dream.”
“No,” she pulls her hand to her face and wipes her eyes. “They were right. It’s a stupid pipe dream. I’ve wasted all my grandma’s money and I’m a failure.”
“That’s just stupid.”
“I’ve been here months and, until last week, only sold one painting. I’m obviously not as good as I thought I was.”
“You’re crazy good. It just takes time.”
“That’s what Ava says, but it’s bullshit.”
“So let me help you. I can get you publicity. Anything you need.”
“No way,” she says, shaking her head.
“Why? I want to.”
“Having some rich guy I’m fucking pave my way isn’t making it. It’s just as big a failure.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
Skye looks at me, her eyes narrow. “I’m serious.”
“Fine, but don’t ever think you’re not the best artist in the country.”
It pisses me off that she doesn’t want my help. I tip her head up and smooth back her hair.