Evie's Knight (11 page)

“You did an amazing job on this piece. I’m not even sure I could’ve mastered that reflection the way you did.”

She grimaced. “I’m sure you could have done way better, of course.”

He glanced at her. “Are you going to tell me about your inspiration?” There was an unassuming look about him–as if he didn’t know whether she’d say yes.

“The theme for the piece is Empty. But like you noticed, it goes beyond the obvious empty seat at the end of the table. Because even though she’s there–the girl behind the cake–she feels as empty as the chair across the way.”

Evie leaned back into the seat and folded her legs beneath her, mentally putting her emotions in check. The last thing she wanted to do was burst into tears in front of him. Already, she could feel the color in her face, the burning heat in her eyes.

Calvin hunched deeper into the seat, lifting his foot and resting it on the opposite knee. The tender urging in his eyes encouraged her, gave her confidence to continue. He wanted to know more.

“My inspiration for this piece was … well, you know how I told you that my mother wasn’t a part of my life?”

He nodded, and she could barely believe she was about to go to this place with him.

“Well, she used to be–a long time ago–but she left one day. She said she’d come back in time for my ninth birthday, only she never did come home.” Evie spun the ring on her thumb once again as she considered how much more to tell him. “My dad was all worried about her at first, thinking something must’ve happened to her, but then he found out that she was fine, that she was just staying away by choice.”

Calvin cleared his throat. “How did he know that? Did she call?”

“She sent a letter, actually. To her own mother, who then told my dad. But it wasn’t until a few days after my birthday, after my dad put out a missing person’s report, you know? It’s weird, though, because before my grandma even told us,” Evie risked a glance at him, “I just … sort of knew she wasn’t coming back.”

“That is strange. Did that make it better or worse? Knowing.”

She gave that some thought, surprised by the certain ease that came over her as she opened up to him.  “I guess both. Better because I could sort of start mourning right away. Since I was so sure she wasn’t coming back, I dealt with it. And it was worse for the same reason–because there was no room for hope. Jessica, for as long as she lived at home, hoped that Mom would come back. I always
wished
she would, even on that birthday I wished for it. But I never really believed it would happen.”

“That’s got to be a lot different from having your mother die, like mine did. More complicated.” The warm brown of his eyes held her gaze, reaching an inner part of her, filling her with a deep longing for more. “But we do have that in common, don’t we–that we’ve spent half our lives without a mother.”

Evie nodded, melting in the magnetic connection. “We do.” The words came out quieter than she meant them to.

The light above changed from yellow to grey in a sudden shift as a cluster of thick clouds floated across the sky, covering the sun. A breeze picked up just as the sound of the lawn mower grew louder. “My dad’s coming around this way. Should we go in the house to do yours?”

Calvin nodded. “I’ll grab it and meet you up front.”

As Evie stepped inside, she slipped further into a relaxed state. She’d made it through–shared her art, and her past as well–with Calvin.

Through the sheer curtains in the living room, she saw him close the Jeep door, matte board in hand. The old screen creaked as she pushed it open, and a gust of wind rushed over her body. “Storm’s coming in,” she said, loving the idea of a rainy night spent with Calvin.

“Looks that way.” The heavenly scent of cool spice and pine mingled in the breeze as he shuffled past her. Just the smell of him made her pulse quicken.

“Go ahead and have a seat.” Evie rounded up the books that lay scattered over the tabletop, creating a tall stack to lean the piece against. “Okay, let’s see it.” She took the board from his hands, anxious to view his project. Once she had it propped against the books, Evie settled into the couch, purposefully scooting closer to him.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, putting his arm around her with a smile. “This is nice.”

She chuckled. Having him so close
was
nice–but distracting. She folded her arms across her chest and set her gaze on the sketch, trying to recall the way they’d critiqued in art class.

She’d almost forgotten the intimidating amount of skill displayed in Calvin’s first piece. This drawing showed that same level of talent, and it made Evie glad she’d gone first; she may have chickened out altogether after seeing this one.

The art portrayed two young boys at a riverside. One leaned lazily against a tree, plucking a tall blade of grass, while the other stood close to the edge of the river. Surrounding the boys stood tall trees with mighty trunks so detailed, she imagined reaching out to feel the rough texture of the bark against her fingers.

“Calvin, this is beautiful. The detail is amazing.” It took her a moment to remember she was supposed to be analyzing the piece. She was more content to just enjoy the beauty of it.

“Let’s see. It’s a sketch–looks like pencil lead. And um, maybe a slight wash of … I’m not sure what kind of paint over top.”

“Egg tempera.”

She looked at him and smiled. “Hmm. I haven’t heard of that one yet.”

“It’s really cool. You actually make it yourself. Gives it that kind of luminescent look.”

There was something appealing in watching Calvin talk about the craft he knew so well. “That is cool. You’ll have to show me sometime.” Looking back to the art, she spoke up once more. “Okay, the first thing I notice is the contrast between the two boys. This one to the left, he looks a bit younger than the other one, he’s carrying two backpacks. One on his back, and one that’s hooked around his fingers and kind of scraping the ground, like it’s heavy for him. ” She pointed toward the boy seated on the ground. “The one down here, lounged against the tree trunk, seems to be relaxed and carefree, where this one is like, picking up the slack, maybe, since I’m guessing the other backpack is his. There’s this sense of burden.” She took a look at Calvin. “Sorry, I’m not very good at this.”

“No, you’re doing great. Go ahead.” He kept his gaze on her as she continued.

“There’s something else that stands out to me though. The paint you were talking about–this amazing wash of gold–it puts a twist on the mood. But I can’t exactly place it.”

Calvin brought his arm from around her back and leaned his elbows onto his knees. “This isn’t the most momentous time of my life, but I’ve been taking art for years now and I’ve already gone there, more than once. But there was this time, shortly after my mother died, when I was kind of faced with a decision, I guess. My dad expected life to still go on, of course, wanted us to be part of the team, as he called it.”

He shook his head absently, the story replaying somewhere behind his deep brown eyes. “We were all suffering, and it took a lot to stay afloat. But Parker refused to do his part. I watched the way he used his pain as an excuse to act like a jerk half the time, and I made a conscious effort not to follow his lead. I knew I’d have to grow up faster and just … be stronger without having my mom around. But I also knew that if I did, I’d become the man she would’ve wanted me to be.” He nodded toward the artwork. “I made that decision, in a moment like this, at the riverbank by our house.”

Evie pulled her gaze from the page as he paused, glancing over at him.

“I’m glad you caught onto the light. It’s a big part of it. Because on the actual day, it seemed like once I set my mind to it, this incredible burst of light broke through the cluster of trees, almost … I don’t know, confirming that I’d made the right choice. That my mom would have been proud, if that makes any sense.”

Evie nodded. “It does. Makes a lot of sense, actually. So you have an older brother who acted up, and I have an older sister who kind of did the same thing. And while she was off in her own rebellious world, I was busy trying to be perfect. Getting straight A’s, helping around the house, and trying to keep the peace between my dad and Jess. And it’s funny, because I look back and see that no matter what either one of us did, it was never going to bring her back.”

Calvin leaned back into the seat and folded his arms. “I remember the first time I sketched an emotional piece. It took a lot of effort to get to that dark place, but I was able to really make the moment shine, like you did with yours. I also remember not knowing what to do with the hurt once I was done. I had opened up all these wounds, and suddenly they were almost impossible to ignore.”

He’d pretty much nailed it with that statement. “Yeah. It’s been that way for me. It took me a long time to get back to that place, and now I’m just kind of stuck there.”

Calvin looked at her, and though he said nothing, the knowing look in his eyes said he knew right where she was. That he’d been there himself. “Got any plans tonight?” he asked.

What?
Her heart was back on the trampoline, bouncing out of rhythm in the breeze. “I don’t.”

“I’d like to take you someplace. There’s one thing I found that’s really helpful for kind of putting it all behind you. A good way to let off the steam. You’ve got some steam to let off, right?”

She nodded. “Right. Major steam.”

“Well then, let’s go.”

Chapter Twelve

As Evie sat waiting for Calvin to pay, she eyed the many activities going on around her. Wide lanes of glossy wood stood to her left. The ever-present crash of bowling balls hitting the pins filled the air.

A giant arcade lay behind, complete with flashing lights, digital sounds, and a cluster of revved-up kids to keep it all going. She wasn’t quite sure what Calvin had in mind until he turned from the counter, a baseball bat in hand. He also carried a plastic ball cap which he placed on his head as he neared.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Batting cages?”

“Yep. You ever been hitting before?”

Evie stood up from the bench. “No.”

“I used to go nearly every week. Something about the crack of that bat, the satisfaction it gives; I really think you’re going to like it.”

Calvin rested his hand on her back, guiding her along the spacious walkway behind the arcade. Evie eyed the high ceilings, bright lights, and chain-linked fences as she pushed open the gate. She shrugged out of her thin, black raincoat and tossed it on the bench.

“Okay, let’s get you ready.” He handed her a pair of gloves. “You’ll want to wear these so you can keep a good grip on the bat.”

Once she tugged the stretchy gloves onto her hands, Calvin grabbed her wrists. “Here, you fasten them up with this strap. Like this.”

She smiled as he cinched up the gloves, enjoying the feel of his closeness.

“Is that good?” he asked.

She nodded. “You’re going to hit too, aren’t you?”

“No. Just you.” As he lifted the batting helmet from his head, a curved lock of hair tumbled loose, slightly covering one dark brow. He set the cap gently on her head and smiled. “Looks good on you.”

She adjusted the loose-fitting hat. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I’ll help you.”

Evie pulled her gaze from his handsome face and took the bat he held out for her. “Whoa. This is heavy.”

“Okay, get into your stance.” A spark of child-like excitement flashed in his eyes.

“Getting into my stance.” She placed her feet apart, tapped the bat on the base, and cranked the heavy thing back. “Ready.”

“No, you’re not.” He covered up a laugh. “You really want to nail this, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well if you’re not in the correct position, you’ll either miss the ball completely, or give it some wimpy tap and aggravate yourself. So here, let me help you.” He came up behind her. “First, you need to spread your feet apart more.”

She looked down, repositioned her feet.

“A little more.”

Her pulse raced as Calvin’s hand skimmed down the back of her thigh. He gripped her leg just behind her knee and moved it a few inches. “Out here. Good. Now when you swing, you want to make it short and quick. Wait. You need to start off more like this.” He wrapped his warm arms around her and placed his hands over hers.

The strong muscles in his chest rippled against her back as he moved. She breathed in the masculine scent of his aftershave, a wonderful, woodsy blend of cedarwood, pine, and sage. She even detected a hint of rain in the mix, which made her sigh dreamily. “You smell good.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his throat. “So do you.” He slid his hands around her waist, twisted the angle of her hips. “You want to be about right … here. Perfect.” Before moving his hands, Calvin gave her waist a firm squeeze. After taking a seat on the bench against the gate, he smiled. “Okay, show me your swing.”

She tightened her grip on the bat and gave it a good swing.

“Nice. Pop your elbows out a bit more.”

Evie did as he said.

“Good. Now let that front foot come forward when you hit, just a short step.”

She swung again, stepping forward as she did.

“That’s it. You’re ready.” He turned to the keypad behind him. “They’re going to come quick, every five seconds. So be ready.”

As she waited for the first ball, Evie shifted her weight.

“See that red light?” Calvin pointed straight ahead. “It will flash three times before it fires. There it goes. One…two… three.”

Evie swung late. Missed. “Crap.”

“You’ll get it. Just watch the light.”

The flashing came again. She swung–too early that time. “Crap. What if I miss them all?”

“You’ll get it,” he said. “This is the part where you think about what’s bothering you. Where you tell yourself you’ve got what it takes to beat it, whatever it is. You had to break down for a bit to connect with your art. That’s fine. But now you’ve got to build yourself back up.”

Another ball fired toward her. She swung and made contact, barely nicking the ball. It shot up and over her shoulder. “That would’ve been a foul, right?”