Page 65 of Sweet Talking Man


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And it must have pissed her off a little because her green eyes became laser beams. Leif was certain if they actuallyhadbeen laser beams he'd be crawling on the floor hunting his testicles.

Finally, the last few minutes approached.

"Okay, good class, everyone. I've seen some real progress in the new drawings. What I'd like for you to do is to take the piece you’ve been working on home with you. Spend some time thinking about the techniques we discussed and see if you can't apply them. No need to rush this process. Art is about passion and being in the moment, but it's also about taking your time."

"Just like with a woman," Mr. Cho said.

Leif crooked an eyebrow before snagging his gaze on Abigail. Again. "I'd say that's a good assessment, Mr. Cho."

The older man nodded, solemnly accepting the affirmation of the wisdom he'd dispensed. Nearly everyone in the class hid a smile.

“I’ll see you next Tuesday," Leif said, swinging his hands, giving a brief clap of dismissal. "Have a good one."

The members of the class stood, shoving papers into their portfolios or bags. Abigail tried to help Birdie, but the child pulled her supplies away, pinning her mother with a glare.

This thing he had going with Abigail wasn't going to be easy. Birdie hadn't declared war on them, but it was obvious that she wasn't happy about them hanging out.

"Give me a minute, Birdie," Abigail said, turning toward him, trying not to look so interested. The color in her cheeks gave her away, though.

Most of the class had already left; only a few stragglers remained.

"I'm ready to go, Mom. You can talk to Mr. Lively on your next date." Birdie huffed, slapping her pad shut and shoving her chair underneath the desk.

Abigail froze, her gaze shifting to where Peggy and Alba stood. The two women’s eyes widened as they exchanged glances. Abigail sucked in a deep breath and exhaled. “Actually, I need to talk to Mr. Lively now, but you may go to the car and wait on me if you would rather.”

Birdie huffed. “But I have a ton of homework.”

“Then start on it in the car,” Abigail said through almost clenched teeth.

“I don’t see why I have to wait around for you to flirt with your new boyfriend. You couldn’t keep your eyes off each other tonight. Honestly, it’s embarrassing.” Birdie shoved her sketch into her folder, not even caring that she bent a corner.

“You should watch talking to your mother like that in front of others,” Peggy said, giving Birdie a look that reminded him of one of the ladies in the commune who served as a communal disciplinarian. The woman had been kind but firm on how children should behave toward their elders. “I would have taken a switch to my daughter if she’d been so rude to me in public. Of course, these are different days, I suppose.”

Birdie looked up, her face nearly the same shade of magenta she'd been the night she admitted she'd spied on him. “I…uh, I guess I shouldn’t have said that.”

Peggy gave her a knowing smile. "It's hard being your age. I remember my own girls and the way we butted heads, but your mama will always be your mama. Remember that, sweetheart."

Birdie nodded, obviously chastened. "Uh, good night, everyone. Sorry, Mom."

Then Birdie slipped through the door.

Peggy grinned, looking at Abigail. "I don't envy you. Raised three girls myself. Gets worse before it gets better."

"Oh, Lord, don't tell me that,” Abigail said, shaking her head.

"It will be fine," Peggy said, brushing a hand toward Leif. ''And don't let her manipulate you. Our daughters have strings attached to our hearts and sometimes they pull them in the wrong direction."

Alba nodded her head. "Mmm-hmm. And that man looks like the right direction to me." Alba gave him a wink.

Leif couldn't resist returning her smile.

"Hey, Peggy," Alba said, snapping her canvas bag shut. ''Come with me over to the student center. They got good coffee. We'll let these young people chat."

"Sounds perfect.”

Then the two older ladies headed out, debating the pros and cons of having fully caffeinated coffees at this hour.

"I can't believe she just called me young," Abigail said, walking around and pushing in chairs while Leif gathered the stray papers peppering the tables.

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