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I’ve missed out on so much. Max was able to go to high school, but we weren’t. Complete bullshit, if you ask me. And sexist.
Because Max is a man, he can handle himself? Screw that. I may want nothing to do with this lifestyle, but if it came down to me and another person, I’d gladly take the other life before I gave up my own.
“When is the family getting together again?” I try to change the subject after an awkward silence fills the room.
“We’re meeting at our restaurant soon, maybe at the end of this week. And perhaps the day after we will have family over for a game night!” Mama says, enthusiasm filling her voice.
The last time we had a game night was years ago. It used to be one of the best times ever. I wonder if things will be different this time around.
I was a child when those nights were held. My cousins and I would always play with our dolls while the adults drank over brooding conversations.
“We haven’t done one of those in years,” I say.
“That’s what will make it fun,” Ana chimes in.
It could be. Or it couldn’t.
“May I be excused?” I ask my Papa, and he nods.
I toss the cloth napkin over the food I hardly touched and try to scoot my chair back. I look down and see Giovanni’s foot trying to pull the chair back in. One of his hands rests on his leg, and the other reaches for his fork.
I try to push back the chair one last time and nearly fall out of it, but he grabs onto the back, steadying it.
“Thank you,” I say, looking down at him. “Dinner was great,” I say to my family as I excuse myself from an uneventfulfamilydinner.
“Nina,” Papa says.
I turn around to face him. “Yes?”
“We have some things to discuss when you have the time.”
I nod. “Of course.”
6NINA
Ispend a little while in my bedroom trying to clean up the mess my sister leaves everywhere. She and I are very different when it comes to how we keep our things together. She’s a mess, and I’m cleaner—it’s always been like that.
I creak open the door to the library slowly to make sure there isn’t anyone in there. Once I’m sure I’m alone, I walk over to the corner that has all my art supplies in a box.
This is my favorite room in the entire house. Unlike every other room, this one seems ancient. Two of the walls are covered in tall bookshelves that are painted in a dark maroon. The floors are dark wood and have a couple of cracks in them. It’s the only room in the house that reminds me of my time in Paris.
I take out a couple of my paintings and toss them on the floor. When Mama took my sister and me to Paris, I learned how to paint from a person who had a small shop on the bridge. I asked him if he made good money painting, and he said something I will never forget.
“There are people fulfilling their dreams because they decided to go and do it.”
He never answered my question, but I don’t think he never painted for money. He painted because he loved to. It was his dream. I used to doubt my ability to paint, but his words changed the way I view many things in life. If I want something, I should go for it.
That’s what gave me the courage to talk to Papa about taking two years to have a life before I get trapped down.
The man wasn’t old, but I could tell his mind had aged far more than his body. There is a saying: the eyes are the window to one’s soul.
His eyes were full of emotion. I paint because of how moved I was by the man on the bridge. I wish I knew his name.
That day, I stopped by a shop and saw a painting set that screamed quality. I purchased two: one for me, and one for him.
I stayed up all night and painted my heart out. Nothing I painted was great, but the feeling I got when the paint smoothed over the canvas like butter was unbelievable. Better than therapy, and I have had years of that.
Every morning I walked past the man on my walk to get coffee and took in his features. Painting the background he stood in every day was the most difficult part. It was a difficult task trying to capture every captivating detail that stood behind him. The weather changed every day. Some days it was pure blue sky, and other days the clouds took over the sky, leaving only a small cast of light on the water.
