“It was my choice to beat the crap out of Josh, mom.”
“I know that, but it wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t in love with her.”
“You said you liked Gianna.”
“It’s not that I don’t like her, she’s a sweet girl, but together you two may be toxic.”
“I put Claudette’s ex in the hospital and I wasn’t in love with her.”
“What about Gianna breaking up with you for that other boy?”
“She wasn’t jerking me around,” I insisted, taking a deep breath before continuing. If it were anyone else, I’d likely tell them to shove it, but I felt my was owed an explanation for everything I’d put her through. “She was only pretending to be with him to discourage me.”
My mom’s mouth dropped open. “Why would she do that?”
Damn, I didn’t want to spell it out. Emphasizing my words, I said, “She was beaten and sexually assaulted with a flashlight. She didn’t think she could handle having a boyfriend after that.”
That shut my mom up, her face revealing guilt. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, so do you think we can get off the subject of my girlfriend being violated?”
I didn’t wait for her answer, storming out of the kitchen in a rage. It still killed me to think of that happening to my precious girl. Josh would get out once he reached adulthood and I’d be waiting. But this time I’d be smarter about it and catch him alone in the dark somewhere, just as he’d done with Gianna.
Taking a sketchpad out of my nightstand, I grabbed one of my drawing pencils. I flipped to a blank page and began sketching out the shape of the most beautiful eyes I’d ever gazed into.
After twenty minutes, I was putting the finishing touches on her eyebrows. My text alert beeped and I picked up my phone from its cradle.
Just got to the clinic. Bringing Chance to dad’s house later so my mom can have a break.
I quickly sent a reply. Meet you there.
For the past few days I’d soaked up as much time with her as possible. I still had to finish one last painting, which was why we hadn’t hung out last night and I’d ended up spending the night at my mom’s apartment.
Gianna drove to her mom’s yesterday so she could go with them to a doctor’s appointment this morning. I figured they’d be there at least an hour and I’d wait two before driving to her dad’s house.
Okay, she texted.
How does pizza sound for lunch?
Delicious! She was such a dork sometimes.
See you then.
Calmed down after a dose of her, I put away the sketchpad and headed to my mom’s art studio to finish the painting. It was of a downtown scene with a group of breakers forming a circle around one wearing a bright orange jumpsuit. The other breakers all wore the same stereotypical prison jumpsuit. We hadn’t worn the bright color at the youth corrections I’d been locked up at, but if I’d made them blue the group in the painting would like janitors instead of prisoners.
I thought it’d be interesting to have them dancing out on the streets of Denver, as if they’d recently escaped or been released and were celebrating their newfound freedom. Passing pedestrians skirted around them in obvious fear and the backdrop to the scene was a Starbucks and a Subway. A homeless man sat against the wall nearby, watching the dancing as passersby also avoided him.
I sifted through the paintbrushes, choosing a smaller one to put on the finishing touches on some of their faces. Jim would love this painting. I’d let him name a few of the others, deciding he knew better what would draw in art buyers.
Painting was enjoyable for me, but it was hard to ignore the money it could potentially make me. If this didn’t work out, I’d find another way to support Gianna. She said her trust fund was smaller than her dad’s but in our life together I wanted to be the one to provide for her, not money from her grandparents.
While she was in college, I didn’t want her to work unless she needed the experience, like the internship Norah had. Plus, she wouldn’t get her trust fund for another decade. Decent apartments downtown or in Boulder, if that’s what she decided, were both expensive. I’d need a lot of money for several years of rent.
An hour later of steady handiwork and it was completed. I’d let it dry and pick it up on Monday to take to the gallery.
Dialing the number of a pizza place I had in my contacts, I ordered my girl’s favorite pizza and another one with just cheese for Chance.
*****
GIANNA
My dad had given me money to do the grocery shopping. I stood in the frozen food section, scanning for Chance’s favorite chicken nuggets when she approached me.