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“I am so, so, sooo sorry.” It was the mother who had wanted to take the picture in the first place.
“I can’t believe my mom did that.”
“I didn’t push them into the pool, Candice!”
Oliver and I were both laughing. “Don’t worry about it,” Oliver said, dabbing his face with a previously white towel.
“My pool! My rainbow-lusion!” It was a man yelling. He had his hands to his face, looking at the destroyed art installation.
“Sorry, mate. It was a complete accident.”
The man, a thin guy with big eyes made even bigger by the circular glass bottles he was wearing, looked at us, then the pool, then back to us.
“You two fell in?”
“Hence the paint job,” Oliver said, his eyebrows raised like a puppy facing down his owner after being caught upending the trash bin.
“You two… it’s perfect. Completely perfect. It’s how I wanted this piece to end, I just didn’t know it. Thank you! Thank you.” He opened his long skinny arms and pulled us into a hug, smearing more paint on each other and him.
When we separated, even Candice’s mom looked confused as all hell. “Sorry, but… didn’t we just destroy your beautiful art piece?”
He vigorously shook his head. His thick black hair matted with paint sprayed some into the air.
“No, no, no. You two made it better. This was set to be destroyed in an hour and fifteen minutes, and I had no idea what I wanted to do to symbolize its end. It would have been quite anticlimactic if it had remained untouched until I stuck a vacuum hose into it. What better way of saying goodbye to this beautiful piece than two lovers falling into the illusion?”
Oliver and I shot each other a glance. Lovers, huh? We were that obvious I guess.
“Please, the two of you, come to my gallery sometime. I want to give you both a private tour.” He reached into the pocket of his black skinny jeans and pulled out a simple white business card.
Alfredo Ortiz was his name, and his gallery was right on South Beach. I could now remember walking past the windows on multiple occasions and stopping each time to admire the bright and eye-catching art that was on display.
“Thank you,” Oliver said, pocketing the card. We stuck around for a short while longer, speaking to not only Alfredo, but also Candice and her mom. An eclectic meeting, especially since Oliver and I were both still dripping different colors of paint off our fingers and noses.
“Oh shoot, I haven’t been paying attention to the time,” Oliver said. “We’ve got dinner reservations in thirty minutes.”
I looked from his shoes up to his head, knowing that I looked just as crazy and colorful as he did. “Let’s go,” I said.
“Yes! Go, you glorious, colorful bitches.”
“Candice! Language.”
I shot a wink at Candice, and we said our goodbyes. Alfredo also left to go and collect some of his other pieces—paintings this time. They were much more portable than his rainbow pool and didn’t require destroying. Before we headed to the car, we found the bathroom and washed off as much paint from our hands and face as we could, helping each other get the backs of our necks, laughing all the while.
“Usually when you destroy an art piece, you end up having to pay whatever it was worth, not getting an invite to a private tour,” Oliver noted as he soaped up his hands as if he were clocking into a surgery.
“We lucked out there. And the pictures Candice snapped were definitely worth the quick dip.”
Oliver turned to me, eyes wide. “Right? They’re frameworthy, I’d say.”
And they were. Candice’s mom, whose name we learned was Rose, deserved credit for spotting the photo op and forcing it on us. It just so happened that with Oliver on my shoulders, we had lined up perfectly with a breathtaking piece of wall art. The photo showed the two of us smiling, a neon rainbow surrounding us. Above the rainbow, the words “True Love is Never Made, Only Found” was written in bold white letters, popping against the back wall it was painted on. On closer inspection, inside each band of the rainbow, the words “You’ve Found Yours” was written, the same color as whatever band of rainbow you looked at.
“You sure you don’t want to reschedule dinner?” Oliver asked as we reached his car.
I didn’t even consider the offer, especially since I remembered Oliver mentioning he had pulled a few strings for these reservations. “Let’s go,” I said. “Let’s give everyone a taste of the rainbow tonight.” I shot him a smile over the hood of his car. I moved the flowers I bought him, placed down the towels, and got into the car.
Inside, we both started to laugh. “What a day,” Oliver said, holding his gut as he pulled out of his parking spot.
