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So, I sent flowers and a card asking her out again, and here I am outside of her parents’ house picking her up. Once again, I find myself nervous, rubbing my hands down my pants. “Good afternoon.” An older gentleman, I assume, is her father greets me.
“Good afternoon Mr. Byrne. I am here to pick up Orla.” Shit. Why does this feel like high school?
“Is there an ending to this date?” He looks at me from above his glasses, and I get the feeling he doesn’t approve.
“I’m sorry?”
“Is this going somewhere? Orla already has too much time on her hands for nonsense. She doesn’t need to add baseless dating to the list.” Is this dude for real? Why do I get the distinct impression he is saying nothing flattering about my girl? The door opens wider right as I am about to respond, but only this time it is my angel.
“Wow, Angel. You look beautiful.” She really does. She is in a sweater that molds perfectly to her plump tits, accentuating her thick body. I can tell it is a sweater dress, which, thank fuck, it is cold outside because she paired it with leggings. I couldn’t handle her having that much skin showing all fucking night and not touching her. Realizing I am once again picturing her without all these down clothes on when I hear a throat clear, I look up and see she is blushing and biting her lip to hide a giggle. “Are you ready to go, baby?” I offer her my arm. When she takes it, I release the breath I was holding. A simple touch from her has the ability to set me at ease.
“Are we really going to the art museum?” She asks as she slides into the car.
“We really are.”
“Cool. I love it there.” Score one for me.
“Excellent. Did you hear about the new exhibit they have going on right now?”
“I haven’t. What is it?” It is called ‘Art around the World’, and it features art submissions from very talented kids from all over the globe.”
“Oh my gosh. I bet that is amazing.” Her enthusiasm is infectious, and I find myself getting excited as well.
The drive over is small talk about nothing, benign things just to fill the nervousness I can feel from her. At one point, I touched her leg, and I swear my hand caught on fire. She was so fucking warm; all I wanted to do was pull her into me and snuggle under her. I think I even moaned. Her face stayed a perpetual shade of red the entire ride, and it did something to my ego to know she was fighting it too. Pulling up, I open her door and then hand the valet my keys. Once inside, we are greeted by the curator. “Mr. Liam, such a pleasure to finally get you here. I was hoping you would come and see your hard work in all its glory.”
“Ms. Delancy. Yes, I am glad I was finally able to make it. I would like to introduce you to Orla” I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her further into me.
“Nice to meet you, young lady. Please, follow me.” She leads toward the exhibition, and I feel my hand being tugged. Looking to my angel, I see the curiosity on her face.
“You had something to do with this?” She whispers in my ear. I chuckle and lean into her head, kissing the side.
“Yes. It is a scholarship I developed for children to be able to express themselves and get recognition for it. All forms of art are welcome.” She looks at me like she is trying to put together a puzzle, and I can tell I have stunned her. It is not something I advertise, so even if she had looked me up, it wouldn’t show up. I don’t want praise for this. I simply wanted to create something kids could use to follow their dream of being artists. Actually, I am in talks with a few hedge fund managers to create an actual foundation to make scholarships for college for the Arts.
“Welcome to the O’Doyle Exhibit for the Arts.” Ms. Delancy says, and I look up to see a giant-sized photo of me holding my camera looking out into the horizon, and to say I am shocked is an understatement. First off, I never in a million years thought it would be named after me. Second, we never discussed a picture of me involved, but yep, here it is. I feel the heat creeping up my neck from the embarrassment, but then the next words from my angel, cool it off.
“This is amazing, Liam. Look at these. These kids are remarkable!” I watch her face as she walks from each photo or painting to the next, and I feel my chest puff out. Looking at her exuberant excitement makes me feel proud, and it makes her glow. She looks enchanting right now, taking in everything around her, and for the first time, I want to enjoy it with her.
