When Angels Cry (8 page)

Kaylee flushed and brushed past him. 
“I see there’s nothing wrong with your hearing.”

“Nope.  Now about Prince Charming
…
.”
  Bastian followed, grinning.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
  Katie plunked onto the couch.

Bastian sat next to her.  “You know–the one your friend thought you might be in the sack with.”  Bastian winked.  “Sounds like a lucky guy.”

Kaylee shot him a penetrating look. 
“Does he now?”
 

“I love a mystery.  Where does he live?” 
Bastian leaned forward and fluffed the cushion behind his back.   He laced his fingers together behind his head and leaned back. 

“I wouldn’t know.
  Anyway, why are you so fascinated with my social life anyway?  If it were
graphed on a
cardiac
monitor, it would be
a
flat
line
.”
  Kaylee rested against the couch perpendicular to Bastian, crossed her legs at the ankles and rested her feet in his lap.  

“Really?”  Bastian raised an eyebrow.  “Then what was all that about?”  He teased his forefinger along the bottom of Kaylee’s left foot, tracing the arch.

Kaylee squirmed.
  “Stop that.”

“I’ll stop if you tell me about Prince Charming.”
  Bastian grabbed her ankle and grinned.

“There’s nothing to tell
,
” Kaylee shrieked.  She tried to pry Bastian’s fingers loose, but they held fast. 

“Have it your way,” he said.  This time he lightly stroked with two fingers.

“Nononono
.
” Kaylee squealed, arching her back and kicking.  She tried to push his hand away with her other foot, but she couldn’t break his grip.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re ticklish?
Now about this prince….
”  Bastian watched her writhe and giggle.  As he stared at her face, at
the
first smile th
e
he’d ever really seen, he realized how beautiful she was. 

“Okay, okay...I’ll talk.
  He’s just a guy that Rosie and I saw at St. Andrews.  I thought he was cute, and Rosie razzes me about it,”
Kaylee gasped, relieved by the momentary reprieve. 
She grabbed her shirt hem, suddenly aware that it had worked its way up her abdomen, and tugged it sharply downward, hiding her navel.  Kaylee focused on her feet instead of Bastian, her cheeks warm.

“Did you try talking to him?  I can’t imagine him turning down someone like you.” 
At first
,
he thought she
’d
turned red from the way she’d struggled as he’d tickled her, but then it dawned on him that maybe talking about this guy had embarrassed her. Bastian rested his hands on Kaylee’s feet.

“I didn’t know what to say.  We were from different worlds.” 
The redness of Kaylee’s cheeks deepened
, and s
he lifted a strand of her long hair and twisted it around her index finger. 

“That doesn’t seem to be stopping you now,” Bastian went on, watching Kaylee’s finger twirl her hair.  “We aren’t exactly from the same side of things, but you seem fine talking to me.”

“That’s different.  You’re different.” 
Kaylee unwound the hair from her finger. 

“How?”

“You actually look me in the eye.  You notice there’s a world around you.”   She stared off into space.  “He never even looked at me.”

“Maybe he was afraid of what he would see: judgment, maybe–or worse.  People can be cruel, Kaylee, and they often hate those who are different.  Still, that’s nothing compared to how we sometimes see ourselves.  There was a time I wouldn’t have been able to look you in the eye.”
  Bastian thought back to the last few months when he’d barely scraped by, through lots of moments he hadn’t wanted to look
at
anyone.

Kaylee winced.  “We’re all imperfect, Bastian.  The sooner everyone comes to realize it, the better off we’ll all be.”

“Interesting work.” 
Bastian
stepped
to her painting, frowning.

Kaylee shrugged.  “I’ve always wanted to be a really good painter, but I'm not.  The lines are weak
,
and sometimes the shading is off.  It never turns out like I want it to, but then not much does, you know?”

He bit his lip, ignoring the sarcasm.  “The blending here looks great.”  He pointed to the line of the sky and water.  “Overall
,
it’s really not bad.”

“Do you paint?” 
Kaylee joined him, trying to see what he was seeing.

“You should harden the line of the sail a bit.”  He leaned closer to the painting. “That might give it more contrast and sharpen the perspective.”

“Do you paint?” she repeated, touching his shoulder.  Her index finger pressed in slightly.

“Some, though I prefer charcoals.  Why?”
  He slowly faced Kaylee.

Kaylee’s blue eyes met the darkness of his, widening.  Her full lips parted as though she were thinking something that
had
suddenly deserted her, something for which there
’d
been
no words. 

“I-I’d like you
to
draw me.” Her voice faltered.  “My face
,
that is
—if
you wouldn’t mind.”

Bastian shrugged.  “I don’t mind.  I’m just puzzled.  What prompted that?”

“I’d like to see myself through your eyes, to see what you see.” 
Kaylee looked at her hands, pretending to inspect the polish on her nails. 

“Suit yourself.  Do you have any charcoals I can use?” 
Bastian focused on Kaylee’s painting, studying the  details he had missed at first glance.

“Yeah, let me get them.” 
She walked out of the room to a closet down the hall
where
she scanned the boxes on the top shelf.  Finding the charcoals, she snapped the lid on the box before further searching the closet and finding a pad among the remaining things stored on the shelf.  Satisfied, she carried it all back to Bastian and handed it over.

“I stored these last year because
,
unlike you, I really didn’t care for them
.  S
till, I couldn’t exactly throw them away
,
either.”  She stepped into the middle of the room.  “So
where would you like me?”

“Give me a minute.”  He walked into the kitchen
and
looked
into
the dining room.  A huge bay window caught his eye and he went to it, pull
ing
the curtains aside.  Light
ebbed
into the room, and he could just imagine how it would look
backlighting
her dark auburn hair.

“
I
found a spot
.  It’s perfect
,
”
he called.

Kaylee ambled into the room, her hands clasped in front of her, and he gestured to the sill, tapping it with the palm of his hand.

“Why there?” she asked.

“The lighting.”  He brushed past her, went to the living room, and retrieved his materials.  When he
returned,
he found Kaylee perched on the sill.  He stooped next to her and gently brushed her long hair in front of her shoulders. 

Kaylee caught his hand in hers. 
“I’d rather it be brushed back.” 
 

“No
,
” he argued.  “You’ll like it there.  I promise.”  He squeezed her hand reassuringly.  “Trust me.”

Reluctantly, Kaylee nodded.   Her fingers squeezed back, and she clutched his hand in hers.  Bastian stared at her, smelling the floral sweetness of her perfume.  Roses?  Hyacinth?  The scent intoxicated him.  His eyebrows arched in puzzlement.  Her lips parted slightly.  Her chest rose and fell quickly as he stared at the line of her neck, at the hollow just above her chest, a perfect place. Her grip slackened, and she finally released him.

“Tilt your head toward the ceiling.” 
Bastian pulled over a chair and set the charcoals
next
to him as he adjusted the pad in his lap.  He pulled out a coal, poised it at the middle of the sheet
,
and peered at Kaylee. 

Kaylee lifted her chin and gazed at the ceiling.  Strands of her long hair slipped over her breasts and curled toward her stomach.

“Perfect.  Now hold still and be patient.  This could take a few minutes.” 
The light cast a deep mahogany glow to her hair.  She r
egarded the sky with wide eyes as he
brush
ed
the charcoal against the paper.

“That’s okay,” Kaylee replied, feeling his gaze upon her. “I don’t have any hot dates.”

“Would you like to,”
Bastian laughed.  He finished sketching the delicate rim of her face, the subtle trace of her chin.

“Depends on who’s asking.” 
Kaylee smiled and risked a downward glance.

“Eyes on the ceiling, please.”  He sketched her eyes, half-lidded at the moment, almond-shaped, the same ones that’d kept him from sleeping last night.  “What if I were?”

“I guess it would depend on why.” 
Kaylee’s throat felt as
though
it would close, and although she tried to swallow, she found she couldn’t.  Of course, she’d never been good at swallowing her own words. 

Bastian peered up from the paper.  “Isn’t that obvious?”

“Not to me.”  Her voice was soft and unsure, absent of any former confidence.

Bastian resumed his work. 
“Maybe because I enjoy being with you.  Is that so crazy?”
   

“I want to be sure, you know.” 
Kaylee blinked
and
shivered.

“Sure of what?”  He waited a moment,
the
charcoal stilled on the page, but there was only silence,
one
he ultimately broke
. 
“That I don’t pity you?”

“Yes,” she whispered.  She closed her eyes, not wanting to see his expression
.  T
here were still things she’d rather not know.

“I don’t pity you,” he said finally, his voice suddenly raw.  “I pity me because there’s never going to be a day I can keep you forever.  The more I give of myself, the more I stand to lose in the end.
”  He laughed humorlessly.  “
But damned if I can keep from giving you more.
”

He kept his eyes on the sketchpad, on the work in his hands.  He added eyebrows,
two
perfect arcs, then focused on her nose, her lips,
and
her hair.  Line by line, curve by curve, Kaylee’s features slowly appeared on the page,
as
lifelike as though she were
there, present
beneath his hands.  But there
she did not look at him but
rather upward, beyond them both.

“How’s it coming?” Kaylee asked, her voice hushed.  She sat
motionless
, blinking only occasionally.

“You can relax.  I’m done.”  Bastian peered at the drawing, knowing he hadn’t really needed Kaylee to model for him.  He had memorized her features the first moment she’d lain in the snow, looking up at him.  He set the charcoal back in the box and stood,  placing
the pad
it in her hands.

“You wanted my perspective.  I hope you’re not disappointed.” 
As she examined her portrait, her mouth fell open.  Bastian set his hand on Kaylee’s shoulder and gingerly squeezed. 

“
No,
it’s not that.”
Kaylee said slowly, still staring at the sketch in her hands.  Her fingers tightened around the edges.

“Then what?  You look unsure.”  He brushed the hair over her shoulders.  “I know you don’t like it in your face.”

“This is beautiful,” she finally said.  “Amazing.”  The clock down the hall chimed softly, but to Kaylee it seemed that the sound was never the more distant with respect to the throb
of her heartbeat.

“I only drew what I saw, Kaylee.  You’re beautiful but don’t realize it.” 
Bastian picked it up
the charcoals
.   His voice thickened, and his hand trembled badly as he handed her the box.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she finally managed. 
Kaylee stared at the picture, mesmerized. 
She noticed how badly her own fingers trembled, but she wasn’t surprised.

“No, not really
.  I’ve never been a big believer in words
,” Bastian said, sitting next to her.  He stretched out his legs and crossed one ankle over the other.  As he looked at his boots, he realized just how badly he needed a new pair.