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There’s a few murmurs of “yes” and “yeah,” most agreeing—apart from Ben who sulks as he slumps down in his beanbag.
“Okay, you don’t have to draw everyone that’s coming, let’s limit it to two people. If you’re brother and sister, that means you have four people to paint,” I say with enthusiasm.
Everyone starts talking between them again and I let them get all of their excitement about who they’re drawing out of the way.
Clayton taps his bean bag and Izzie scoots over, leaning into his side. I frown at the serious looks on their faces. Deciding to get a little bit closer so I can hear their murmurs.
“You can draw Dad, Izzie, I don’t mind,” Clayton says quietly.
“And Edward?” Izzie asks.
Clayton smiles slightly. “Yeah.”
Izzie starts to perk up, but then the smile drops from her face. “But… who will you draw?”
Clayton’s face screws up. “I… Maybe I can paint Nana and Amelia?”
“Or Mommy—”
“Miss J said family that’s coming,” he snaps and pulls away from her.
“But...”
He sighs, his eyes misting over as he swallows and pulls Izzie into him again with an arm around her shoulders. “Sorry, Izzie, I didn’t mean to be horrible. Amelia is family, I’ll draw her,” he reassures her for some reason.
Izzie looks up at the ceiling then taps Clayton’s leg excitedly, forgetting about her moment of sadness. “You can draw her making our favorite cookies!”
I smile at her excitement; I can tell that there’s a story behind the conversation that I was privy to, but it’s not any of my business.
“Try and keep this to yourself so it can be a surprise on the night,” I say to everyone. “It can be our little secret to reveal in two weeks on gallery night.”
I wait patiently on the cobblestone path with the other parents for the children to be let out of their art class. I can see Izzie from here through the black-framed windows, and when she notices me, she jumps up and down, waving frantically with a silly smile on her face.
I lift my hand and wave back, eliciting an even bigger smile as she sits back down and turns to face whoever is talking. I crane my head to the side, trying to see who it is but with all of the parents blocking the way, I can’t see a damn thing.
The elusive Miss J is becoming more and more a mystery, and I’m itching to see who the woman is that has both of my kids under her spell.
I turn away from the window, catching the eyes of several parents, though not one of them speak to me. I let it go, not minding that I keep myself to myself as I pull my cell out, making myself look busy, when in fact, I have nothing to reply to. Which is unusual because there’s always something I could be checking or responding to.
The sound of children’s squeals come through the door as they open and I spot Matilda handing them off to their parents. Izzie comes flying through the door and Matilda stops her with a hand to her shoulder, crouching down and whispering something to her. Izzie nods and steps back, looking around for something and then heading back inside before coming back with Clay by her side, both of them dragging the box of jars behind them.
I step forward, crouching down and picking the box up off the floor before standing back up.
“Wow! What are these?” I ask, looking down at them both.
Clay shrugs and Izzie jumps up and down on the spot. “They’re jars, silly Daddy!” She giggles and turns toward Matilda, shaking her head as if to say, “how does he not know this?”
“Oh.” I look down and pull one out, marveling at the painted patterns on them. “This is really good.”
“That one’s mine!” Izzie shouts, her face full of pride. “I made them for Clay, they’re firefly jars so he can use them for nightlights.”
I move my gaze to Clay and watch as his face heats, the red creeping up his cheeks. He finds it difficult talking about the fact that he can’t sleep without a light on and no doubt is embarrassed by it. I can’t remember the last time he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night because of a nightmare, he never tells me what he dreamed about, no matter how much I push him to tell me. Several times I’ve woken up to him having slipped into bed with me, one of his nightlights clutched to his chest.
I wink at him, trying to ease his embarrassment slightly then turn toward Izzie. “Did you make me one?”
“You don’t need one, Daddy.”
“What? Of course I do!” My hand flies to my chest in mock outrage and her eyes widen as she looks from the jars then back up to me and Clay.
