September 8th 2022
Chapter 251
Our Realizations of Art
It had become tradition, about as soon as Maya's latest maternity leave had begun, that Barton Day didn't simply bring the diary boxes on Friday afternoon and head out again after a brief moment to chat with his fellow teacher. He was invited, along with his wife, along with any of his sons who might be available and wanting to come along, to come to the Friar house for dinner with the family. And so, they would come. So far, it had been Barton and Michelle on a weekly basis, although Dakota had joined them a couple of times, the only one of the Day boys to tag along. That he might have had any ulterior motives for doing so was entirely his affair, although Maya couldn't say that she hadn't been quietly encouraging every part of this.
Whatever was going on with Dakota and Emma, all Maya and Lucas were aware of was that something was happening, developing, slowly but surely. The young man was certainly more of a presence these days, if not in body, at the house, then in name, as Emma would mention in passing that she had either seen him or spoken with him about some thing or another. There had been no further pronouncement as to whether she had changed her mind in any way about leaving Austin or even about her choice to drop out of college, and to the best of their abilities the family had been staying out of her hair about it, even if some of them – her parents – found it harder than others. They were still curious about it, couldn't help it. None of them wanted her to go, not even James or Abigail, who always reunited with her with a clear showing of how much they had missed their daughter. She was where she needed to be; they believed that much.
So, the Days would have dinner with them on Fridays, and it would be a highlight each time, in no small part for the way that the couple – and sometimes their eldest son – would interact with the Friar sisters, who welcomed them each time like one more uncle and aunt, or possibly one more grandfather and grandmother. Either way, they were family to them, and the feeling was mutual.
Once the Days would leave, it wouldn't be very long that Maya would be found upstairs in the master bedroom, peering through her first few diaries. It was as though she was corresponding with many, many pen pals, and the next letters had finally arrived, prompting her to see as soon as she could what news awaited her. She wouldn't do too many of them on Friday nights, primarily because if she allowed herself to look at too many, she'd probably be up all night going through all four boxes, but also because even if it could hardly be counted on that she'd be able to be by her side for all of it anymore, Marianne would want to be there to see with her. Short of being able to do that, to see every single one, she would have a short list of her favorites, the ones she'd always want to see, and as Maya knew very well which ones those would be, she'd usually try and keep those for when her firstborn would be present. It wasn't as though Marianne couldn't just pick those out of the boxes and look at them for herself, but it was part of the experience – at least the way she saw it – that they would get to discover the new work at the same time, together.
One that she couldn't help but pull on that Friday, even if it would count on Marianne's list, was Nellie's sketchbook. She'd been keeping up with it, even on those days when she'd been at the hospital morning to evening with Bobby, and it couldn't help but be telling of where her head was at. When she'd be with him, there would very much be a sense of her trying to be some mix between a cheerleader and a coach, with a dash of their old (friendly) rivalry, all geared toward making sure that he would recover. She would know which buttons to push, ensuring that he didn't sink into a mental state that would hinder his progress. Did it occasionally lead to bickering? Yes, maybe more than occasionally. But did he appreciate it? Yes, definitely all the time.
There was his diary in the box still. Maya had debated what to do about it. She could have given it back to him, closed it out with a note as she would do at the end of the school year, because essentially his school year was ended. But every time she would consider it, she could never bring herself to do it. She kept thinking about how he'd been concerned about whether or not he would get to continue on into junior year with his classmates next year, and so long as his diary was still there in the box, even if it remained there at all times, it was a reminder that they were not giving up on him. Ethan had taken up this particular task, becoming something like his twin's tutor, whenever he'd go to see him. It was still too early to know how everything would shape up, but Maya knew that all of Bobby's teachers were as motivated as she was to see him get through sophomore year. They believed he could do it, and so did he, so why not?
As much as Bobby had that to hold on to, others were not so fortunate. Every year, Maya would be aware of those kids who struggled with their grades, in her class less so but in others. She'd had students who had repeated grades, shifting them from one group into another, as much as she'd had students who'd come very close but squeezed by in the end. This year, to her knowledge, she only had a couple from among her groups who were in this position, and the one she felt to be the most at risk in the moment was freshman Ash Bell.
Those students at risk of repeating were never happy at the prospect, of course, but Maya knew how much this meant to Ash. They may have been top tier when it came to art class, but that was as wide of a gap as there was between their results in Maya's class and those in their other classes. And they were trying, all the time, which was what made it most frustrating. They were trying so hard, and it just wasn't clicking for some reason. They'd never been a great student, no, but at least they'd managed to get by. This year, high school, that slim margin had been wearing away, until they were falling behind. They weren't alone, never. They had their girlfriend, Maia Bennett, and she would be relentless in trying to help her enbyfriend, but even that hadn't been working. Maya had been seeing it in Ash's diary pages. As exquisite as their art continued to be, there was something to it that felt just a bit frantic, afraid, and in communicating through a series of post-its from week to week, she'd confirmed her suspicions. They must have spoken to Ash by now, made it clear to them that there was a firm possibility that they would be repeating freshman year in the fall. She wished she could do more for them at the moment, she did, but she just wasn't in a position to do so, not now…
On Saturday morning, bright and early – because she'd be due for soccer practice soon enough – Marianne would be stood leaning over the edge of her father's desk in her parents' room, where Maya was once again set up to go through the diaries. Could she still get up to her own desk, on the second floor? Sure, she could, but she couldn't deny the convenience of this desk, one floor below. Plus, she knew how much it meant to Lucas that he let her have the space, so how could she say no? She would tell him that his chair was more comfortable than hers – which wasn't a total lie; his chair was very comfortable – and that it smelled like him, and that would make him smirk. Fair enough.
Both with Marianne and then without her once Lucas took her off to soccer practice, Maya went through the boxes. It would take her more time than usual these days, as she would start out going through each sketchbook by finding the last page from before her leave and then look through the pages that had been filled since. She would do this every week, like a recap to take her back into each student's mind frame, so every week it would take several more seconds before she got to the new addition or additions. As ever, she had those who would only do the assignment – and this at varying degrees of commitment – and then there would be those – like Ash Bell – who would go above and beyond with an unassigned extra page or two… or three… Ash had been most prolific in that way, making it so that they were the first student Maya had had since the likes of Bodhi Thompson, who found themselves finishing out one book and needing a second for that same year as soon as they did. The way they were going, they might end up needing a third, and that was unheard of, but then as concerned as they'd been over their grades, maybe art in these diaries had been a refuge.
Another of her students who had hit the second volume mark this year was Nika Petrelis. In her case, it did not come from a place of concern or escape. She had always been a very skilled artist, but this year it very much felt as though Nika had hit a new stride when it came to her art, so much so that she had doubled up every week, doing her assigned work as well as something else she'd just been inspired to create and had decided to put where she could share it with her art teacher. Maya had loved following her progress, to see where her mind would go. Very recently, back in March, before she'd gone on leave, she'd been struck by a portrait. Nika had drawn a small boy, chasing after a dog, the scene as alive as ever in her work, and it had been enough to wonder if she'd drawn it from her mind or from an actual image that she'd seen.
Out there in the world with his adoptive mother, Nika's son was now two years old. Little Anthony had never met her, and might never meet her, but he was doing well. Maya knew that Madeline Miller had been sending her son's birth mother letters every now and then, giving her updates on how he was doing, but to her knowledge Nika had decided that she didn't want to see any pictures, not at the moment at least. She wasn't ready, and they all respected that. Even just the letters would sometimes leave her shaken up, even if they were always good news. The boy in the drawing certainly looked like he might have been related to Nika, just as the dog looked like Madeline's dog, to Maya's memory, but she still couldn't say for certain. Later, she would learn that it really had been little more than what Nika imagined in her head after reading Madeline's most recent letter, sharing stories of Anthony Nicholas Miller's second birthday.
By the time she had gone through all four boxes, early on Monday morning, shortly before Barton came to collect them, Maya was reminded once again of how fortunate she felt, to be doing the work that she was doing. How she looked forward to being with them again in the fall… She wasn't sure yet whether she'd actually start with them on the first day of school, with a barely three-month-old babe at home by then, but no matter how it all shaped up, she would eagerly await that return, knowing that she'd be just as eagerly awaited by her students.
TO BE CONTINUED
See you tomorrow! - mooners
