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What time u get up?
He sends some googly eyes, followed by: 4:30.
For real?
Yeah.
U tired af?
Nah.
How much do u sleep, my brother?
He sends the little shruggy guy. His guy has blond hair. I can’t stop cheesin’ at it.
Sleep tonight. I’ll snug u up.
He doesn’t reply.
Bert & Ernie style, amirite?
He sends a little guy with its hands covering its face, which makes me grin as I head in the direction I think is the kitchen.
Your house is nuts, I say, stopped in front of a landscape by one of my faves. The art is killing me.
Not my goal.
What did you do at 5 or whatever?
Commentary stuff for HGTV. I helped build this house for charity and now they’re filming the part where I talk. We did it here on campus, but they wanted to start early.
Did u make it thru?
I died during filming. Now you’re messaging my ghost. He sends a ghost icon.
Damn. I waited years for a shot with the big P, then he goes and dies.
He sends the eggplant—for penis, I’m sure.
I shoot back that purple religious cross icon. P for pastor, you animal.
He sends back a pig emoticon.
Mmhmm. There’s a plate of chocolate chip cookies by the stovetop. I stuff one into my mouth and lean against the counter. These cookies are epic.
Cookies for breakfast, Emerson?
What did you have?
Avocado/ham/egg white omelet
I snort. Cook yourself?
Not this time. I’m more of an ice guy, I think. Fire is dire and ice is nice. What did Frost say?
I grin. I think Frost was a fire guy, yeah? ‘I hold with those who favor fire.’
Are you out-Frosting me?
Listen, bud, my name is Emerson.
I’m not your friend, buddy.
I’m not your pal, fucker.
I’m getting in a car with other people, he says.
Think you’re special?
Later, E.V. Paint me something pretty.8LukeHe paints an abstract that looks like it could be two figures holding each other in a dark blue void. He sends the photo to me with a blue heart symbol—and because I have no self-control, I open it while I’m sitting next to Pearl in the back of the Escalade, riding back to Evermore after a luncheon at a Mexican place.
I don’t know…I guess I smile or something, because Pearl grins like she knows a secret and says, “Something good, huh?”
It hits me…she doesn’t know. How would she? How long until Megan tells her friends and people find out? I lower the phone to my lap.
“Not her.”
“No?”
I shake my head, and I’m a jackass, because I know I don’t even have to tell Pearl. She knows me so well, she can tell just from my face.
“Ohhhhhhh.” It’s murmured.
I let a breath out.
“Okay. Well, that’s okay. Is it okay?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“I’m so appropriate,” she says. “And professional. I’m not asking any questions.” She mimes zipping her lips, and that makes me smirk.
“Somebody’s up in your inbox.” Pearl mimes zipping her lips again. I look back at the phone. At Vance’s painting. That he did for me. Today. At Evermore.
I let a long, slow breath out. Risk a brief grin. Pearl slaps both hands over her mouth.
I type a couple blue hearts into text…and then delete them. I feel…not sure what to say about it. But I can’t not text him back. Especially when what he did for me is so beautiful.
I hold the phone the whole way back to campus, feeling warm and weird and sort of like I can’t breathe. When Bernard turns the car onto Evermore Way, I grit my teeth and send just, Thank you.
It’s all I know to say that feels real.
He sends me a red heart back. Then I’m striding toward the building where he is. I’m walking down the corridor right by his atrium, and my heart is beating off-rhythm. Pearl looks at me, and I give her a fake smile, and that was stupid because she can tell. Her whole face gets that worried look—the one she’s really bad at hiding. She says, “Want me to reschedule chess?”
Oh. Chess. I’ve gotta leave to go play chess with one of our big donors in an hour. He’s a shut-in, lives in Alameda.
“Foy is expecting me.”
“I can still reschedule,” she says as we step onto the elevator.
“It’s all good, PNW.”
“You gave me a TV smile.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It looked nice, but I know better.”
I arch my brows. The elevator door opens, and we step off. Pearl starts toward her office door, then turns back to me. She claps her hand over her mouth again.
I give her a real grin. When she’s out of sight, I duck into the stairwell.* * *VANCEI marked my grid up on the wall then worked on the palette all day, and my back and shoulders are on fire. It’s 3:45, and I just want to feel the sun. I seal some paints up, set my brushes in a bucket, and walk into the garden outside my atrium. There’s a port-a-room with a bathroom, shower, and table in the nearest corner of the walled garden—set up there so I can wash up, rinse paint, and sometimes work with chemicals, all without messing up their pristine bathrooms.
