Why Not Tonight
Page 49
“I would like to offer a monthly program for your students. I haven’t figured out all the details and I’d appreciate some help on that, assuming you’re interested. I was thinking I’d come in for the day and spend an hour with each grade. We’d do something together. If you can provide the space, I’d bring in the supplies.”
Her steady gaze never wavered. “Why would you want to do that? It’s a huge commitment of time and resources. Don’t you have better things to be doing?”
Not the answer he’d expected. “I have never wanted for anything. My father is famous, and once he figured out I had inherited his talent, the assumption was I would follow in his footsteps.”
“Which you have.”
“Agreed. I have been successful by any measure and I’m grateful for that. But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Helping kids discover the joy of painting or working with clay one day a month isn’t asking too much of myself.”
He paused. “In the spirit of full disclosure, I have no formal teaching experience. I work with college interns a lot but I’ve been known to yell at them. You’d want me to be supervised.”
He realized about fifteen seconds too late he probably shouldn’t have said that.
“Not that I would yell at children. I wouldn’t. I’m just saying, I’m not a teacher. I don’t claim to be. I’m a guy who knows and likes art and I want to share that.”
“Would you want the press to be around while you teach? Are you working on a documentary?”
“What? No. No press, no parents, no anyone. This isn’t about publicity. I’d prefer to be anonymous.”
Her expression softened. “Interesting. You couldn’t possibly handle the project by yourself. There are too many children in each grade. You’d be overwhelmed.”
“I’ll bring the interns with me.” And he would ask Natalie. He had a feeling she would enjoy helping out.
“No yelling at the interns in front of the children, Ronan. I’d have to insist on that.”
He grinned. “You have my word.”
“Then I think we should talk about this very seriously. Your offer is generous and I want to find a way to make it work.”
“Me, too.”
* * *
AN HOUR LATER Ronan arrived back at the studio. He and Dr. Anthony had come up with a plan. She was going to have to run the proposal by the school board, but she had said she doubted there would be a problem. Ronan was well-known in the community and his lack of flamboyant lifestyle was in his favor. There would be teachers on hand to provide supervision. Once she had approval, she would be in touch.
He found Natalie working on a massive floral-butterfly mixed-media piece. She’d already sketched the dozens of butterflies and had begun applying torn bits of paper. On a tray next to her desk were the broken clock faces they’d picked up at the recycling center.
“Clocks and flowers and butterflies?” he asked.
“Changing seasons. I’m not totally sure about that, though. I might just do all paper. I haven’t decided.” She smiled. “Atsuko heard from her friend, and the magazine paper, or whatever it’s called, will arrive next week. I can’t wait to get started. In the meantime, I’m doing this.”
She glanced over her shoulder as if making sure his brothers weren’t that close, then lowered her voice. “How was the meeting?”
“Good. She liked my idea and she’s going to take it to the school board.”
“Yay!” Natalie shimmied in place. “I told you it would go well. You’re going to let me help, right? I’ve been thinking we should do a theme. Like painting one time and something with wood or glass.”
“And paper,” he said, lightly touching her cheek. “They have to learn to work with paper.”
“They do. And they will. Are you happy? Doesn’t it feel good to offer this? You’re going to be so great with the kids, Ronan. You’re patient and you understand how stuff works.”
“I warned Dr. Anthony I yell at my interns.”
“You don’t. Okay, every now and then, but not really.”
She was always seeing the best in him. In everyone, he supposed. Every challenge was another opportunity to try something new. Only Natalie saw the beauty in a broken clock face.
“You’re amazing,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her.
She kissed him back and grinned. “I am pretty special. Now get back to work. I have to create beautiful butterflies here, mister.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
NATALIE STOOD BACK to study her mixed-media piece. The direction had taken her by surprise. She really had been thinking maybe something with seasons but instead she found herself creating flowers within flowers. Not quite a kaleidoscope, but close, with the butterflies for accent. She’d used over a dozen different types of paper, mixing them into a swirling, living creation that seemed to sway in an imaginary breeze. She wasn’t completely sure, but she thought it might be the best thing she’d ever done.
“Next up, giant flowers for Atsuko,” she murmured to herself as she walked to her right and looked at her piece from that angle. She was creating those in her mind right now, playing with shapes and sizes in preparation for actually starting the work. It was how her process went best—at least on the big things. She mulled and considered before actually starting with real materials. But in the meantime, she was thrilled with what she’d created.
She walked away, then spun back to look at it from a distance. The colors blended seamlessly; the energy was positive. She felt herself smiling as she gazed at it. Yup, the best thing she’d ever made by far, she thought happily.
She was in a good place. Working hard, trying new things. She knew that success required hard work, determination and persistence. Once those three were conquered, there was often an element of luck. She’d been putting in the time and now she had her reward.
She laughed and picked up the canvas, then hurried across the studio. She wanted to show Ronan the final results of her fussing for the past couple of weeks. He’d been watching her work but hadn’t offered any suggestions...mostly because he was the best boyfriend ever. Despite his wild success, he never assumed he was better or knew more or—
“Ronan!” she called as she approached. “It’s done. Come look.”
He turned at the sound of her voice. He’d been working and had on goggles and held a blowpipe in his hands. At the end, a blob of molten glass glowed in the late-afternoon light. Natalie found herself instantly mesmerized by the colors in the nearly liquid glass and she didn’t notice the box in her path.
She kicked it, stumbled and started to fall forward. Ronan instinctively moved toward her to catch her. The molten glass touched the top of the canvas and ignited a tiny petal of paper. In less than a second, the flames spread, racing toward her hands and her chest.
“No!” she shrieked, instinctively turning the canvas and dropping it facedown on the floor.
Ronan shoved the molten glass into a cooling bucket, ripped off his goggles and rushed back to her. He stood staring at the back of the canvas and swore under his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he began. “Natalie, I’m sorry. It happened so fast and I didn’t mean...” His voice trailed off.
She knew he meant what he said—he would never deliberately do anything to hurt her and he would never destroy anything she’d made. It had been an accident. She’d tripped, he’d started toward her. Just one of those things. A little hiccup in the forward momentum of life.
Her steady gaze never wavered. “Why would you want to do that? It’s a huge commitment of time and resources. Don’t you have better things to be doing?”
Not the answer he’d expected. “I have never wanted for anything. My father is famous, and once he figured out I had inherited his talent, the assumption was I would follow in his footsteps.”
“Which you have.”
“Agreed. I have been successful by any measure and I’m grateful for that. But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Helping kids discover the joy of painting or working with clay one day a month isn’t asking too much of myself.”
He paused. “In the spirit of full disclosure, I have no formal teaching experience. I work with college interns a lot but I’ve been known to yell at them. You’d want me to be supervised.”
He realized about fifteen seconds too late he probably shouldn’t have said that.
“Not that I would yell at children. I wouldn’t. I’m just saying, I’m not a teacher. I don’t claim to be. I’m a guy who knows and likes art and I want to share that.”
“Would you want the press to be around while you teach? Are you working on a documentary?”
“What? No. No press, no parents, no anyone. This isn’t about publicity. I’d prefer to be anonymous.”
Her expression softened. “Interesting. You couldn’t possibly handle the project by yourself. There are too many children in each grade. You’d be overwhelmed.”
“I’ll bring the interns with me.” And he would ask Natalie. He had a feeling she would enjoy helping out.
“No yelling at the interns in front of the children, Ronan. I’d have to insist on that.”
He grinned. “You have my word.”
“Then I think we should talk about this very seriously. Your offer is generous and I want to find a way to make it work.”
“Me, too.”
* * *
AN HOUR LATER Ronan arrived back at the studio. He and Dr. Anthony had come up with a plan. She was going to have to run the proposal by the school board, but she had said she doubted there would be a problem. Ronan was well-known in the community and his lack of flamboyant lifestyle was in his favor. There would be teachers on hand to provide supervision. Once she had approval, she would be in touch.
He found Natalie working on a massive floral-butterfly mixed-media piece. She’d already sketched the dozens of butterflies and had begun applying torn bits of paper. On a tray next to her desk were the broken clock faces they’d picked up at the recycling center.
“Clocks and flowers and butterflies?” he asked.
“Changing seasons. I’m not totally sure about that, though. I might just do all paper. I haven’t decided.” She smiled. “Atsuko heard from her friend, and the magazine paper, or whatever it’s called, will arrive next week. I can’t wait to get started. In the meantime, I’m doing this.”
She glanced over her shoulder as if making sure his brothers weren’t that close, then lowered her voice. “How was the meeting?”
“Good. She liked my idea and she’s going to take it to the school board.”
“Yay!” Natalie shimmied in place. “I told you it would go well. You’re going to let me help, right? I’ve been thinking we should do a theme. Like painting one time and something with wood or glass.”
“And paper,” he said, lightly touching her cheek. “They have to learn to work with paper.”
“They do. And they will. Are you happy? Doesn’t it feel good to offer this? You’re going to be so great with the kids, Ronan. You’re patient and you understand how stuff works.”
“I warned Dr. Anthony I yell at my interns.”
“You don’t. Okay, every now and then, but not really.”
She was always seeing the best in him. In everyone, he supposed. Every challenge was another opportunity to try something new. Only Natalie saw the beauty in a broken clock face.
“You’re amazing,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her.
She kissed him back and grinned. “I am pretty special. Now get back to work. I have to create beautiful butterflies here, mister.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
* * *
NATALIE STOOD BACK to study her mixed-media piece. The direction had taken her by surprise. She really had been thinking maybe something with seasons but instead she found herself creating flowers within flowers. Not quite a kaleidoscope, but close, with the butterflies for accent. She’d used over a dozen different types of paper, mixing them into a swirling, living creation that seemed to sway in an imaginary breeze. She wasn’t completely sure, but she thought it might be the best thing she’d ever done.
“Next up, giant flowers for Atsuko,” she murmured to herself as she walked to her right and looked at her piece from that angle. She was creating those in her mind right now, playing with shapes and sizes in preparation for actually starting the work. It was how her process went best—at least on the big things. She mulled and considered before actually starting with real materials. But in the meantime, she was thrilled with what she’d created.
She walked away, then spun back to look at it from a distance. The colors blended seamlessly; the energy was positive. She felt herself smiling as she gazed at it. Yup, the best thing she’d ever made by far, she thought happily.
She was in a good place. Working hard, trying new things. She knew that success required hard work, determination and persistence. Once those three were conquered, there was often an element of luck. She’d been putting in the time and now she had her reward.
She laughed and picked up the canvas, then hurried across the studio. She wanted to show Ronan the final results of her fussing for the past couple of weeks. He’d been watching her work but hadn’t offered any suggestions...mostly because he was the best boyfriend ever. Despite his wild success, he never assumed he was better or knew more or—
“Ronan!” she called as she approached. “It’s done. Come look.”
He turned at the sound of her voice. He’d been working and had on goggles and held a blowpipe in his hands. At the end, a blob of molten glass glowed in the late-afternoon light. Natalie found herself instantly mesmerized by the colors in the nearly liquid glass and she didn’t notice the box in her path.
She kicked it, stumbled and started to fall forward. Ronan instinctively moved toward her to catch her. The molten glass touched the top of the canvas and ignited a tiny petal of paper. In less than a second, the flames spread, racing toward her hands and her chest.
“No!” she shrieked, instinctively turning the canvas and dropping it facedown on the floor.
Ronan shoved the molten glass into a cooling bucket, ripped off his goggles and rushed back to her. He stood staring at the back of the canvas and swore under his breath.
“I’m sorry,” he began. “Natalie, I’m sorry. It happened so fast and I didn’t mean...” His voice trailed off.
She knew he meant what he said—he would never deliberately do anything to hurt her and he would never destroy anything she’d made. It had been an accident. She’d tripped, he’d started toward her. Just one of those things. A little hiccup in the forward momentum of life.
