Chapter 6

Me: Sorry about the wait! Life gets in the way, sometimes. Art smarties, any liberties taken or errors made are entirely mine.

Rick and Simeon stood in the Xavier gallery and contemplated a canvas covered with smears of yellow, orange and red paint entitled, "The Plight of Darfur." Rick shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. "It's just that I…" Rick started hesitantly. He shook his head, then continued. "I don't...really get it."

Simeon laughed low but deep, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He was a tall, lanky man with a flamboyant Afro and the mahogany skin of his sister. "It's not just you, Rick. Abstraction is something a lot of people don't 'get.' This style is about conveying concepts and ideas through color, lines and form. It's meant to evoke certain emotions or reactions tied to the concept being expressed."

"Call me old-fashioned, but I like my art to look like things. You know, a sunset. A pond of water lilies. A dead-eyed Italian lady with a part in her hair," Rick grumbled.

Simeon laughed again, a little louder this time which drew a sharp look from the gallerista. "You married my sister, and this is what she likes. But if it makes you feel any better, I don't really like it, either. I, too, like my art to 'look like things.'"

"At this rate, I'm not sure we're gonna find anything," Rick sighed.

"We'll keep looking," Simeon replied encouragingly. "This is only the third gallery we've been to, there are more to go. I've got all day to help you. We're going to find it."

Rick suppressed a groan. A whole day of combing through galleries and checking out artwork that resembled spastic finger-painting from severely disturbed children held no appeal at all...but this was for Michonne. He just had to keep reminding himself of that.

Three more galleries later and he was having to work really hard to convince himself that he and Simeon were going to find something that would work as an actual gift. It wasn't even that everything they'd seen was totally awful, (he was starting to get abstraction...kind of) but nothing gave him the feeling he was looking for. Nothing felt like Michonne's gift.

He and Simeon found themselves at Boudreaux's, him tucking into a shrimp po'boy and Simeon devouring teriyaki-glazed short ribs. "I'm beginning to wonder if we're gonna find anything that works," Rick confessed in between mouthfuls of his sandwich.

Simeon swallowed his bite of miso mashed potatoes before answering. "It's not hopeless, not yet. We've still got a few more places to look. I'll grant you, none of what we've seen so far is quite what we're looking for...but don't get discouraged. It's out there, your perfect gift. For what it's worth, I understand what you're going through."

Rick grinned. "You also had to run around trying to find an abstract work of modern art to give to a loved one for Christmas?"

Simeon's eyes became unreadable. "Not an abstract work of modern art, no. But one Christmas, I had a really difficult time trying to find a gift for Adrienne. We agreed not to make lists...which is a horrible idea, by the way. She loved vintage fashion and art deco jewelry. Finding a piece that worked for her was a pain in the-well, you know. After a few weeks of searching, I finally found a necklace that I knew would be perfect. And she loved it. Seeing her face when she opened that box was worth every day I went looking."

The grin left Rick's face immediately. Adrienne had been-was-Simeon's wife. She had died of brain cancer after a battle of two years in which her ability to function rapidly deteriorated. By the end, she couldn't recognize anyone, including her husband and daughter. She had now been gone for six years...before Rick and Michonne started dating. Michonne had told him all about was the sibling she was closest to, and she had helped her brother and niece through Adrienne's death as best she could.

"Simeon, I-damn it, I'm sorry. Me and my dumb-"

Simeon held up a hand to silence Rick. "Stop it. No need to apologize. I had a wife I loved more than anyone...except our daughter. I was lucky enough to have her for twelve years before she passed away. Even with as bad as it was in the end...I wouldn't have changed anything. She was a large part of my life. She was my best friend. It would be so strange to never speak of her, as if she had never existed. Adrienne has been gone for a while now. My grief and pain, these are things I've had time to come to terms with."

Rick nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet.

"I bring her up because watching you search for Michonne's gift, and getting frustrated about it, brought that Christmas so much to my mind. I was so annoyed!" He chuckled at the memory, gaze soft with remembrance. "Searching through consignment shops was about as fun as getting a root canal. There were a couple of days I just wanted to give up and get her something easy...even if I knew she wouldn't like it as much. But seeing how happy she was...I would have searched five times as long as I did, to make her that happy."

Rick cleared his throat and rubbed at the suspicious moisture that had gathered at the corners of his eyes. "I'm not gonna give up. I want to find a gift that will make Michonne as happy as Adrienne was. I want her to know what she means to me."

"We will find it. If you need more of my assistance, I'll make arrangements. The good news about being a food critic is that it gives you great flexibility. I can see how much you love my sister, and I know how much she loves you," Simeon said firmly. "The things that we give each other are just things...but they're one of the imperfect ways we have of showing how much we care." Simeon picked up a short rib and took a large bite, chewing contemplatively, then swallowed. "You know, this place isn't half-bad. They're worth a review."

Taking that as a not-so-subtle signal to change the subject, Rick obliged. "I agree. This po'boy is pretty tasty. And the fried okra and dippin' sauce...hard to find better outside of your grandma's."

"I'm thinking dessert," Simeon mused. "The creme brulee sounds delicious."

"I was thinking the banana cream pie, myself," Rick responded, after a quick perusal of the menu.

Simeon laughed. "So dessert it is. There's the waiter. Here, let me flag him down. Excuse me...Spencer? We'd like to order some dessert, please."

To Be Continued