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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Erin
In manyways, Thomas became my first student, or the very first person to make me ateacher. It felt special, amemory that only the two of us would share, amemory to hang on to.
Messages likeIfinished this last night, What do you think of adding this color to the paintingand, my favorites,You were right to suggest the[enter here any vibrant color of your imagination], became the norm over the past two weeks.
My replies varied betweenGreat job, Ithink you should go with itand of course, my favorite,I’malways right, but it’sall your doing.
He, in turn, became my favorite teacher. And one of my good friends. Agood friend who offered to drive me to the airport for my flight to San Diego where I’dspend Christmas with my mom and brother. Because duh, that was what friends did.
He eyed me with his large, curious eyes as Ihad spent the last thirty minutes packing everything into my duffle bag, abag Iwished Icould’ve packed him in.
“I’malmost done!” Iexclaimed, even though he didn’trush me. My hands rummaged through my bag, checking for the fifth time that Iremembered to take everything.
“Take your time.” He gave me one of his sly smiles, the ones where the gold in his eyes sparkled. These smiles, like any other smile of his were not given easily, and yet he chose me as the person to give them to.
Thomas’slarge frame filled my small bedroom’sdoorframe as he leaned on it. In amoment of weakness, Ientertained the thought of forgetting about my family, getting over myself and of Greg’shold on me, and telling him that Iliked him. Maybe staying, too.
Then Iremembered he had his own obligations with two former clients who expected him in Russia, and Ireturned to stuffing my duffle bag with toiletries instead of facing him.
“Well…” He cleared his throat, and Itwisted, waiting for what he had to say. He checked his watch, raising ateasing eyebrow. “Take your time—so what if we’re ten minutes late already.”
“Oh, shut your mouth!” Ithrew apillow at him, and he evaded it coolly.
“And Ihad no idea California had no drugstores.” He examined the bag Ifilled with bottles of shampoo, dry shampoo, conditioner, and soap. “Are you going to adesert? Sunny, desert-yCalifornia?”
Another pillow thrown, another one evaded.
“Fine, fine, I’mready.” Izipped my bag shut and put my sneakers on. “Whisk me away to warm weather and sunny beaches, dear sir.”
“Your chariot awaits, my lady.” He bowed, reaching for the bag’sstrap and carrying it for me.
And away we went.
Thomas:Remember the desert joke Imade about California? Well, here it’sadesert too. More like an ice desert.
Thomas texted me during his early morning, my Christmas Eve. He had along day ahead of him, painting until the Christmas banquets started. Ireplied between bites of my mom’sdelicacies, little butterflies fluttering with every message.
He’dbeen giving me space ever since our kiss, but the more Igot to know him over these months, the less and less Ineeded it.
Me:Oh, my heart. What’sworse than having afull-on white Christmas?
Me:I’mbetting nothing.
Thomas:Brave from afar…
Thomas:Also, it’snot avacation, it’swork.
Me:Idon’tknow alot of work environments where fancy dinners with old friends are included.
Thomas:Teaching you to draw was clearly amistake. You pay way too much attention to everything Isay.
Me:What about, look at me, I’msuch agreat teacher?
Thomas:It’syou who’sbeing too good of astudent. And listener. Listen less.
Me:Kinder from afar…
