Looks like we’re having a man-to-man talk.
“Nessa is worried about you.”
“Really?” I’m shocked. My little sister lives in her own world. She’s not self-centered, but she also doesn’t pay a lot of attentionto things going on that don’t involve her. I hadn’t thought she’d notice my somewhat neurotic routine.
“She hasn’t said it outright, she simply asked me to keep an eye on you. Said she’d noticed you here more often than not and wanted me to check in on you here and there.”
“That’s kind of you,” I try to say a bit nicer. I’m well aware that I intimidate him and I appreciate how much he does for his best friend. He’s looked out for her for years when I couldn’t, and I still feel like I owe him for that. “Truly, I’m fine.”
“That’s good,” Beck breathes, releasing what looks like an ass-load of tension. “You writing something?” he asks, pointing to the sketchpad in my hands.
“Drawing.” I shrug. I don’t share my doodles with many people, even if it’s not necessarily a secret. But I find myself handing it to him, nothing to hide, and he flips through it curiously.
Beck lets out a low whistle. “Damn, these are pretty good!” I watch as he examines the pages more closely, observing the fine details I’ve tried to capture of his café while I’ve been killing time here. The way the light comes in through their big front window, one of their regulars, Miriam, and her sparkly cane as she waits for her drink at the counter, the display case of pastries.
He stops short when he gets to my latest drawings, the ones I’ve been making the last few days, the ones that have lived in my head, screaming at me to be put on paper until I oblige.
“These are all Stella.” It’s not a question as his eyes get wider.
“She’s here all the time. Ran out of things to draw.” My nose must be growing with how big of a lie that is.
“Uh huh.” He closes the book, handing it back to me. “Well, that’s as impressive as it is unexpected,” Beck chuckles. I simply grunt in response, unsure of how to react to his praise. “Have you ever thought about doing anything with your art?” The question is surprising.
“No, I already have the band, I don’t need another hobby that pays.” Beck’s face betrays his shock at my accidental confession.
Oh well. No sense denying it now.
“I suppose that’s fair.” He runs his hand through his hair, considering before he speaks. “Some of the artwork here needs replacing. If you ever feel like making more out of it, you give me a call.” The small smile he gives me is kind. “Also, if you ever find yourself bored out of your skull from sitting here all day, me and my buddy Grant like to spar at the gym sometimes. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
I try to ignore the warm feeling that spreads through me at his offer. Despite having the band, and my sister, and her friend circle, I don’t have much of a friend circle of my own. I nod brusquely. “I appreciate the offer, man. I’ll take you up on that.” I think I mean it too, and Beck looks so pleased when he excuses himself to get back to work.
I think I’m about to get my peace back when a particularly flamboyant regular sneaks into my field of vision.
“Hello there, handsome! Looking as fine as ever, I see,” Miriam, one of the regulars I’ve seen around most days says, walking up with her bright pink cane. I hear Stella call out her name at the pickup counter nearly every day, and it’s entertaining to watch her interact with everyone like it’s her family reunion. She also makes a habit of teasing the staff which provides endless amusement for me. We’ve never been officially introduced, but we’ve seen each other around enough to be aware.
Her flirting with me is enough to crack a smile at and she hoots. “I knew you had it in you! You have a lovely smile.” She seats herself across from me, making herself comfortable. “When you get to my age, you start to get bored. Your own life isn’t enough to mentally stimulate you anymore.” Her head tips to the side, her sneaky smile growing by the minute.
“Interesting,” I offer, nervous about where she’s going with this. I’ve seen her torment the other staff before for kicks and giggles, and while I admire it, I haven’t been eager to be on the receiving end.
“Indeed.” Her eye contact is unwavering, bordering on mentally unwell, and we stare at each other in silence for what must be at least an eternity. “So, let me see it.”
“See what?”
“The drawing you have of me.”
“You’ve been eavesdropping.”
“Like I said, handsome. I get bored.” She holds out her hand expectantly, and not getting a sense that I have a choice in the matter, I turn to the correct page and hand it over.
This is like seeing Nessa sixty years from now.
Her weathered hand caresses the page as she looks it over in fascination. “I’ve never had someone draw me before.” For how boisterous Miriam is, I don’t expect reverence at my work.
“You’re here often. I didn’t mean to overstep.”
“Not at all,” Miriam says, pressing her lips together. “I’ve never looked at myself like this.” Her voice is awestruck, emotional over something I hadn’t put much stock behind. “You’re really quite talented, young man. Your parents must be proud.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I reply with a dry laugh.
