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I look at Cash. “I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses me while his hand grips the back of my neck. “And neither is this picture.”
I giggle against his lips but I’m still worried about how all of this will impact our relationship. As if Cash can sense my apprehension, he says, “Don’t forget, Sasha, when I move, you move.” He cups my face before continuing, “It goes both ways.”
I take a deep breath. I feel like I’m sitting on my surfboard, watching the swell, a wave forming. If I take a chance, ride the wave, it could take me to shore… or I could wipe out the minute I stand, but if I don’t try, I’ll never know.
Cash takes my hand and we walk back into the gallery. Standing near the graffiti art photos that are displayed, is a woman who turns to greet me as I get closer.
She extends her hand and I take it. “Sasha? I’m Elizabeth Watkins from the L.A. Times.”
“So nice to meet you,” I reply, beaming back at her.
“These are extraordinary,” she says, pointing to the photos. “Exactly the kind of stories we like to showcase.”
“Thank you so much.” I can’t help the goofy smile planted on my face.
“Here’s my card. Give me a call on Monday, and we can set up a meeting to discuss this further.” She hands me a business card with her credentials, and I hold it in my palm as if it’s pure gold.
“I’d love to see some more of your work,” she says.
“You should have seen the one that just got sold,” Jack pipes up, and both Cash and I turn around to glare at him.
EPILOGUE
EIGHT YEARS LATER
Cash
Slow Burn by Kacey Musgraves
Irest my forearms on the wooden fence and take a deep breath as I look out into the pasture. The horses in the distance swish their tails and bow their heads to the dew-covered grass. The clouds still hang heavy in the sky, the sun not yet burning through. This is the time of day I like best, when everything is quiet and calm.
The breeze carries with it the scent of the ocean and the sap from the nearby maple trees that line the pasture. I never thought I would be standing here, pulling a peppermint from my pocket, crinkling the wrapping to get Ivan’s attention, but here I am. His ears prick and turn in my direction, lifting his head from the grass.
He walks with slow purpose, showing his age as he heads towards me. I remove the plastic and hold the candy in my hand. His lips pull back, showing his yellow teeth and uses his tongue to grab the peppermint from my palm. I reach over and pat his neck as he sucks on the mint with loud slurping noises.
“Are you going to take your vitamins now?” I ask him.
“Does he talk back to you?” Sasha asks as she smiles and walks closer to me down the dirt path from the house, wearing those fucking sexy black muck boots and her cutoff shorts.
I laugh before replying, “Sometimes.”
“Oh yeah? What does he say?” she asks.
“Same thing he always says, give me a fucking peppermint and I won’t bite you,” I say, and Sasha laughs.
“How many years has it been, and he’s never bitten you.”
I eye Ivan. We’ve come to an understanding over the last eight years. I give him peppermints, and he doesn’t bite me. That’s our arrangement.
Maggie comes tearing out of the house, her little pink cowgirl boots that are still too big for her, kicking up dirt in her wake. She’s still wearing her unicorn pajamas, tucked into the boots.
“Ivan!” she screams, her tangled blonde hair flying behind her.
She stops at the fence and then turns to me with a dirty look.
“You already gave him a peppermint!” She points and glares at me accusatorially.
Her twin sister, Joey, comes running out of the house behind her. Maggie turns to her. “Daddy gave Ivan a peppermint already!” she tattles.
