Kissing a Fool
Chapter 2
I look at the mixture of paints I've just created on my palette and then stare at the canvas. I remove the brush from between my teeth and start to work on the beauty that is before me.
"God, I love this color," I tell Honey who is sleeping on the couch. "I need to redo my bedroom in this."
There's a knock on my door so I set the palette and the brush down and wipe my hands on my overalls.
"Who is that? It's got to be someone in the building or they'd have to buzz me," I say to myself.
I look through the peephole and all I see are a bouquet of roses so I cautiously unlock and open the door.
"Special delivery," the voice behind the flowers says.
I smile at the familiar voice.
"You're a little early for dinner, aren't you?" I ask, looking at my watch.
Pete moves the flowers away from his face and shakes his head.
"Well for dinner yeah, but I stopped by the gallery to give you these, but you weren't there so I took a shot coming here. Happy birthday," he says holding out his free arm.
My eyes get big. "Birthday?"
He walks into the apartment and closes the door behind him.
"Yeah...you're twenty-one today or did you forget?" he chuckles.
I look around the room and stick my hands in my back pockets.
"Don't tell me you forgot?" he asks.
I shrug.
"I've been painting all morning."
He sets the flowers down on the credenza and moves closer to me.
"I'm all dirty," I say looking down at me.
"Do I look like I care?" he asks, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me up off of my feet.
I wrap my arms around him and let him sway my legs back and forth.
"I've missed you so much," I say as he sets me back down.
"Well, I wouldn't miss today," he says, pulling back from me.
I shake my head. "I hadn't even realized..."
"But you remembered our dinner plans tonight?"
"Yes, because it's in my day planner," I say, placing my hands on my hips.
"But your birthday wasn't," he chuckles. "Well, why don't I write it in for you for next year so you don't forget." He gives my nose a tap. "We need to put these in water," he says picking up the bouquet.
I watch him as he goes to my kitchen and starts opening up cabinets. When he finds a vase he fills it with water and sets the flowers in it.
"What's up with you?" he asks when he looks back over at me.
I haven't moved from my spot.
"I can't believe I forgot my own birthday," I say running a hand through my hair. "What's wrong with me, Pete?"
"Nothing is wrong with you," he says, walking back over to me. He puts his hands on my shoulders as I look up at him.
"You're just a little uh...preocupied lately with the gallery doing well and all. You're just busy."
I smile at him. "I guess."
He pulls me into another hug.
"I know."
I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his chest and stay there for as long as I can.
"I've been so homesick lately. Maybe it's the holidays coming up..."
"But you're going to be in LA for Christmas, right?" he asks, not letting me go.
"Yeah."
"Well and you were so used to having Cody and Jessica around..."
I pull back a little but still keep my hands on his waist.
I nod. "Yeah...I don't know why Cody couldn't have done another Broadway play," I mumble.
He chuckles.
"Oh, speaking of Cody and Jessica..." I start.
"I heard, your mom told me. That's great for them," he says.
I smile and nod. "They're so happy."
"They should be..."
I think back to their first two pregnancies that they lost. The first was when they had only been dating a few months and the second one was a year into their marriage. It almost seemed like they were too scared to try to get pregnant again. But this was their miracle.
"Yeah."
"So, you going to the gallery today?" he asks as he takes my hand and walks me over to where my canvas's are set up.
"I was going to stop by later this afternoon. I'm most inspired in the mornings so I usually stay here and paint."
He studies the canvas I was just working on.
"This is good. I love the colors."
"Thanks," I smile.
"I don't know how you work on so many at a time," he says looking at the other two paintings I've been working on and off on.
"I just work when I'm inspired," I yawn. "So that's why I have a few going because of my different inspirations."
"The multiple personalities of Ashleigh Timberlake?"
"The different moods of Ashleigh Timberlake," I chuckle.
"Well, anyway...I will let you get back to work and see you tonight," he says pointing at me.
"Do you have to go?" I ask, trying not to pout.
"I thought you were working?"
"I am but that's the cool thing about my job...I make up my own hours."
He nods and smiles. "Okay then, I'll stay. But if you want to work, feel free."
I walk over to him and reach up to take off his coat.
"Stay awhile."
He helps by shrugging off his coat.
"You hungry?" he asks while I hang his coat up on the coat tree by the door.
"Why, is it lunch time?"
"Yes...well, close enough. I can start making something."
"While I...?"
"While you paint. I love to watch you work."
"Oh," I say, glancing over at my canvases. "Okay. I guess I can do that."
"Well, don't let me force you into anything you don't want to do..."
"It's just that now that you're here, I want to sit down and talk with you. Find out what you've been doing this semester? Oh wait, you aren't going to school this semester."
He moans a little and the right corner of his lip twitches.
"Why do you have to say it like that?" he asks.
I grab his hand and pull him over to the corner of my apartment where my family room furniture is set up. I plop down on the love seat and he sits down next to me.
"Don't you need to close up your paints so they don't dry out?" he asks, pointing toward my work area.
"Oh, good idea," I say, hopping back up. I pat his shoulder as I walk by. "But you're not getting out of it that easy."
"I've been contemplating life," he says loud enough so I can hear across the room.
I chuckle as I put the lid on my tube of paint.
"And what have you come up with?"
"Not much. I tried writing a little music..." he starts.
"Oh really?" I ask, my curiosity peeked.
"Well, not so really. Tried being the operative word."
"You're tougher on yourself than anyone else would be, I'm sure it was good."
Once I've capped all the paint I rejoin him on the loveseat, moving Honey out of the way so I can sit down.
He shrugs as he studies the loops on the pants of my overalls. "It wasn't me," he says, looking up at me.
I see the confusion in his eyes.
"Why did you know what you wanted to do when you were like six? Why did Adriana and Cody know what they wanted to do so young? I can't figure it out and it's driving me mad."
I touch his hand, which is now resting on my thigh.
"I don't know...don't force it, Pete, it will come to you. Just trust it."
"But what is it supposed to do? Fall into my lap? I mean, I love to sing...like my dad, but it's not my passion. I love to pick at people's minds, like my mom, but that's not what I'm supposed to do, either."
The veins in his neck are starting to show a little so I rub his hand a little to calm him down.
"We're still young. Just stop and think about what you like to do...what makes you feel passionate."
He stares into my eyes for a few seconds and then my phone rings. I smile, knowing that it's someone from my family.
"Here you go," Pete says, leaning over to grab my phone from the stand. He hands it to me.
"Thanks," I say before pushing the talk button. "Hello?"
"Happy birthday," both mama and daddy say at the same time.
"Thanks," I chuckle.
Pete taps my leg and stands up before heading to the kitchen. He starts roaming around to find something to make for lunch, I assume while my parent's say a few words.
"Well Pete's here and he's going to take me out to dinner tonight," I say.
"Now don't overdo it tonight," dad warns.
"Daddy...I've had alcohol before."
"Ash, you know what he means," mama warns.
"I'll be fine."
"She'll be fine," Pete yells from the kitchen.
"Hear that? Even Pete says I'll be fine," I say.
"That's what I'm worried about," daddy mumbles.
"What?" I ask, a little confused.
"Your daddy just means that we don't want you to be sick tomorrow and regret it."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. You two have a nice evening together. I'm glad someone could be there with you."
"Me too, mama. I'll be home soon, though."
"Before we know it," daddy says.
We talk for a little while longer and suddenly I smell something delicious and notice my stomach growling.
"You know, I hate to cut this short but I smell something fantastic coming from the kitchen and my stomach is telling me to go see what it is," I chuckle.
"Oh, maybe it's Pete's fabulous Chicken Parm," mama says.
"No, it doesn't smell like that."
"Well, have fun tonight but be careful because we love you," daddy says.
"I will, daddy. I love you too. Love you mom. Thanks for calling, guys."
"Of course we're going to call you on this special day. I love you too, baby," mama says.
As soon as I hang up the phone I ran into the kitchen and wrap my arms around Pete from behind.
"What smells so good?" I ask.
He continues to stir what's in the pot on the stove.
"Must be my new cologne," he says.
I pull away and slap his back.
"Come on...it's pasta, I can tell that much," I say standing next to him to see what he's cooking.
"Yep, it's pasta. Did you have a good chat with your folks?"
"Yes. But, it made me miss them more," I say, trying not to pout.
"Chin up," he says, lifting my chin up with his finger.
"Need help?"
"No," he says a little too quickly.
"What? I can stir something if you show me how," I say looking at the pot of boiling pasta.
"Okay," he sighs. "You can drain the pasta."
"I can do that," I say, lifting the pot off of the stove.
"You might want to use hot pads for that," he says, watching me hurry to the sink.
"I'm okay," I say, setting it down on the counter.
"Ash, you're going to scorch your countertop," he says over his shoulder.
"Oh," I say lifting it again and setting it down in the sink. I bite my lip when I notice the countertop is a little discolored now. "Okay, where's my thing?" I ask myself, looking around.
"Third cabinet to your left," he replies.
I open that cabinet up and sure enough, there's my thing...whatever it's called.
Once the pasta is drained I turn around.
"Okay, now what?"
"You can just leave the pasta in the colander for now, I'm almost done with this."
"You're good at this," I say. "Maybe this is your calling. You should be a chef and go to chef school."
He chuckles. "Culinary school. And, I've actually thought about it but I only like doing this for certain people."
"You need to quit shooting down my ideas."
"Sorry," he chuckles.
"I'll get the wine...I can legally drink it now."
"It's only twelve-thirty, isn't it a little early in the day to be drinking?" he asks.
"Oh. Then why are we eating a huge meal?"
"It's not huge," he says.
"It looks pretty filling to me, Pete."
"Trust me," he says, looking down at me. "Now, get me a plate."
"Yes sir," I chuckle as I grab a couple of plates from the cabinet.
I sigh because I'm happy that I'm spending a day with my best friend in the world.