A blank canvas is the most terrible thing in the world. At least to me, a single mother whose only income is her paintings. Most of my paintings are of my children. They have to be good; I make enough for all four of us to live comfortably.
"I just can't seem to get this. Can you help me, Momma?" Little Crissy came through the doorway, math book in hand. Crissy was three days away from 13. Just looking at her makes my heart swell with pride and love.
Crissy is my youngest with brown hair, like my own, and beautiful blue eyes. When she smiles, like she is now, dimples appear in her cheeks. She is the cutest thing. Though, me being "Momma" I can't say that. I have to say how grown up she is. Which she is, don't get me wrong, but I makes me sad to think about all my darling children being gone in just a few years.
"I'll help you, Cris!" Joey called from the other room.
Crissy's features smashed into one another as she yelled, " My name is Crissy! I am NOT a boy!"
She is so cute.
Joey came in with a large bag of potato chips. It is rare to catch him without food in hand, unless he's sleeping, which I do. My skinny son with dusty blond hair and light-green eyes is the knockdown dropout. Girls are always calling him. Sometimes it gets on my nerves but then I remember what I was like at sixteen and smile. I hope that it is just a phase like mine was.
My oldest looked up from her book to level her Stare at her younger siblings. In that look was enough promises of things to come that both of my younger children stopped immediately.
My younger daughter is weird, especially how she likes school, but my oldest is just plain strange, but in a good way. I like the way she laughs and the jewel her father gave her always on her forehead. It just seems right and natural.
"Aww, shucks Shell we was jus' playin'." This from Joey. There is only one thing that can make my oldest smile or laugh (outside her books), which my son uses to full advantage.
Joey has a voice that can mimic a Southern accent without sounding funny, but makes her laugh every time. It did not fail. Her laughter rang true and seemed to hang in the air above our heads; we all love her laughter. It was a welcome relief, for it seemed able to release us from our hardships of the day.
As Shelly laughed her ruby-red hair flew all over the place and her emerald eyes dancing with mirth. The blue jewel Shelly always wore as a circlet bounced on her forehead as she laughed. The silver chain that kept it on her head slipped and it fell to her nose. She didn't seem to mind, though. Who cares when laughter is ruining your mind?
The doorbell ringing broke the silence that had hung between us in good-natured abandon. I released a heavy sigh because I knew that it was some realtor telling us we had to move, or a banker, or a salesman, or a reporter, or some other bimbo who was lost, or wanted money. I brushed my waist length brown hair out of my blue eyes. It just slid into them again. I heaved a heavy sigh.
Joey saved me from going to the front door, "I'll get it!" He could be such a Godsend when he chose.
"Moooommmmm." His voice carried through the house.
I practically ran to the door, scared that something had happened to my baby boy. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw who was at the door. Seven women, all around their late twenties or early thirties. All of them wore sheer fabric draped over a tube shaped dress.
One encompassed every color in the spectrum. It was amazing that I could identify less than half the colors on her gown, and I'm a painter! One wore the deep ocean, that dark blue verging on black that just can't be found anywhere else. Two were in different shades of purple, one verging on the color of the palest of violets, the other the darkest of hues in the setting sun. The last three embodied the moon wearing pearl white, dawn gray, and midnight black. Of them all, my gaze seemed rooted to the rainbow woman.
"Are you going to let us in or are you just going to stand there with your jaw on the floor?" the low husky voice jerked me out of the trance-state I was in. The dark blue had spoken. As I looked her over, I noticed a wedding ring on the forth finger of her left hand. The ring was Greek in design, waves riding to ring a sapphire, cut to a perfectly smooth teardrop.
"Yes, come in Your Highness'" The voice of my oldest was strange compared to the voice of the Blue Lady. "I know you did not come all this way just to stand out in the yard."
As I stared at my daughter, her own blue jewel, that had always been with her since her father had given it to her before he left, changed. The silver chain disappeared as it sank into the flesh of her forehead.
"Shelly, what do you know about this?" Joey was incredulous that she had kept him out of a joke on Mom. He failed to notice the stone no longer hung above her head but was embedded there.
"Let's all go in the living room, we can talk there without being disturbed." And we all filed behind my oldest, seven in the most regal way I have ever seen. The rest of us like little baby ducks, all waddling after Mother. Sure, my daughter, the Mother. Right.
When we were all settled, my daughter was the first to speak. "Well, why are you here? I thought my father told you to leave me alone for twenty years, to allow for a normal life." She addressed them as a queen would her nobles, allowing their concern but clearly showing her displeasure.
The rainbow one took control of the conversation, heedless of any danger that could emanate from the superior form of my daughter. "We came to inspire your family actually, but Zeus said that this way we could see how you were doing, and if you were okay in the mortal world. By the way, for you three, I am Iris, goddess of the rainbow and art. I came for Shara." Why had she come for me…the way she said it reminded me of Death in the movies. All grim reaper and seriousness. That struck me as funny and I laughed. I mean a full belly laugh. By her face I could tell I was in trouble. Oh no.
Shelly laughed with me. Did I say that out loud? No, because Joey would be laughing if I had. What was going on? Then Shelly's laugh hit me and my brain shut off. Oh-well.
"Mother, do not worry. Iris will not harm you. Even if she could, she would not dare with my protection over your family."
My brain finally kicked into overdrive and sorted through all of the information it had received that morning. In less than a second I had come to a conclusion that did not seem real. It could not be true, but the next words of my oldest confirmed my horrific conclusions.
"I am what you think Mother. Do not be afraid." Her melodious voice was the only thing that kept me from leaping to my feet and racing through the front door. For I had realized the impossible was coming true in my living room. My husband had lied to me. He was a Greek deity, so my daughter was too, with Ouranos as her sire.