Damittttttttttt Daria
Chapter Eleven First Class
"Alright raise the brush and flick your wrist down to fill in…" Daria glanced down at an instruction sheet she had hidden on her easel, "section seven."
She recalled Jane's voice the night before, " Move it down. This is called a brush stroke. Don't treat it like slinging paint on a wall."
Jane reflexively grabbed the brush with her whole arm launched out of the sling. Pain shot up all the way to her shoulder joint. Daria nearly dropped the paint on her way to setting it down. Jane smiled it off and shoved her arm back inside while sinking her butt onto the bed. They shook as Jane cried and not to long after Daria cried with her.
"I'm sorry Jane. I'm so sorry."
Jane sobbed.
Daria couldn't say anything to fix it this time.
"It's not your fault."
Daria clenched Jane's shirt.
"It's not your fault." Jane choked a bit of snot.
Daria leaned her chin into Jane's shoulder. They stayed like that for who knows how long.
"Daria?"
"Mmm?"
"Who is Edmunds?"
…
Time skipped forward again to the next day as Daria continued the lesson in her painting class. She resisted the urge to chug the whole bottle of wine when she thought of the conversation she endured the night before. That certainly was not the end to it. She was surrounded by mostly middle aged ladies of all shapes and sizes who were excited to get a buzz on from the pinot noir in the back. To accommodate the dark wine they were painting an obscure night scene of a dirt path overlooking a hill with a moonlit landscape as the backdrop. If it hadn't been for Jane she wouldn't be making $150 in only two hours. The women were leaving tips by the back as well. Some of them were so drunk that they thought she had been an instructor for at least a year. She couldn't accept compliments when she knew how bad she was at painting. But apparently anyone can feel like a pro when they fill in some shapes. An eager lady asked her for the color of the moon and she cleared her throat.
"Alright, mover over to shape eight and we'll use...pearlescent white."
The ladies cheered and she heard a few glasses clink.
"I do admit this is kind of fun." Daria muttered to herself.
She got into the spirit when she began the first layer for the sky.
"Shape nine will be midnight black."
A lady raised her hand and said, "I get it! All the paints are named after different kinds of wine from Bertrands."
Daria coughed away a chuckle, "Yeah that's right."
"I'll buy a case of midnight black."
"Ugh...maybe pace yourself."
"Oh you're so wonderful I'll take two. This night has got me all kinds of giddy. Am I right ladies!"
The room roared with laughter.
Daria raised her eyebrows.
Her mind drifted back to last night again.
…
"You say it in your sleep. His name. You say it."
"Jane not now."
"What are you hiding!"
"Nothing."
"Is that why you drink? Is that why? Is this affair eating at you."
"Affair?"
"So it's true."
Daria laughed as she felt the shock assault her body.
Jane got up and Daria grabbed at her.
Daria's eyes filled with fresh tears as she continued to laugh.
"This isn't funny. Let me go."
"No its not funny at all." Daria clenched her jaw and glared.
Jane narrowed her eyes down at Daria.
"I promise that I will tell you but not tonight."
"I'm sleeping on the couch."
"Where will Trent sleep?"
"The bathtub."
Jane slammed the door.
Daria threw herself onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. She saw strength and patience forming in the ripples of white paint. She found that when she looked up she saw herself change into the form of a warrior. She galloped across the sky atop a midnight stallion, brandishing a great sword. Jane was at her back. They rode until the horse transformed into a motorcycle. Suddenly they were riding across a bridge.
The bridge gapped where it broke and Daria caught air jumping it. The breeze passed her face and whispered inside her bike helmet until it brushed down the back of her leather jacket. She exhaled a breath as the jump landed. The wheels shook when they hit the ground and Jane hugged Daria tight. There was an oncoming tunnel that was so low they had to duck their heads down. Once they cleared it the tunnel opened to a grand futuristic cityscape with towering glass spires. A spider poofed into existence as it climbed over the tops of the buildings. The ebb and flow of time rushed over the sky above as the clouds mimicked ocean waves above the spider.
"Lady or the spider?"
The ceiling wouldn't answer her.
"Well as nice as this daydream has been I choose my lady."
The ceiling was pleased as Daria crawled out of the room.
"Jane!"
…
Daria shook her head back to the present.
The women crowded behind Daria to see a demonstration of the next blocking on canvas. There were two fresh strokes of paint lined up to make the moonlit path leading into the woods. They were amber colored in contrast to the dark ground and pale moon. The sky hung under in a deep purple to make the almost white moon pop. Daria counted aloud how many brush strokes her students would need to make the path, "One-two-three." She could hardly hear her own voice as it said again what color to apply. A life changed so radically in not even a year's time. "Am I good enough to marry?" Daria thought to herself. She frowned at the person she needed to be versus who she was now. She still didn't feel strong enough for Jane. Good enough. Happy enough. Caring enough. Enough.
A glass shattered on the carpet and wine bled into the carpet. Daria saw Jane's blood at the scene of the accident. "Jane!"
Daria's head smacked against the hot pavement on the balmy Summer day. The bike twisted against her, bruising her legs. Jane was face down on the street in a tangled heap with her entire right arm lodged in broken glass. Every inch of her arm had piece of glass stuck in it. The blood slowly leaked as the glass pushed into muscle and then bone. Daria crawled to her and flipped her over, breathing into her mouth. The sirens screamed as Daria was pulled off of Jane. Daria pushed against hands shoving her onto a gurney and she reached for Jane.
"Daria? You need to spray it. Here let me help. It was my fault for spilling it."
A brunette woman with dark eyes got to mopping up the wine while another picked up glass. Daria could see in them the forms of an emergency response crew cleaning up the car accident. The driver of the car was dead on impact after the car had flipped over. The body was being zipped up before the back of the ambulance closed. Daria would be sedated and wake up hours later to search for Jane's bed. Daria didn't leave Jane's side for weeks.
Now? Would they sleep apart tonight? The next night? When would it end? Daria asked herself if she should let Jane go. Even if it hurt. Even if it hurt Jane at first. Good enough?
