35
A small boy sat on a broken curb, looking down at a dirty, smudged ball in his hands. It was worn from play, clearly overused. His hair was dark and messy, his lashes long against the pale skin of his cheeks. You couldn’t see his eyes, but in the background, two other kids played together. They were out of focus, not meant to be the focus of the shot. Staring at his shoes, also dirty and worn from use, Elena found her eyes welling up unexpectedly.
“Goodness, that’s a bit depressing, isn’t it?” a deep voice came from next to her.
Elena glanced over her shoulder. Grayson Kendrick was staring at the photo, his head tilted to the side as he frowned at the image.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,” he told her.
Elena shook her head, “Oh you didn’t startle me, sir. It’s fine,” She clasped her hands in front of her body and returned her gaze to the photograph. “It’s moving, I think.” Grayson hummed, tucking his hands into his pockets. The disbelieving sound made her smile. “You disagree?”
“I’m shit with figuring out art, young lady.”
That made Elena laugh. “I’m sure you’re not that bad.” She said, “Besides, why do you have it in your house if you feel that way about it,”
He laughed then, “I guess I kept it because people liked looking at it, so I guess it’s here mostly because of the guests… Like you. And judging by how captivated you were by it, I’m guessing I made the right choice.”
He was the kind of man who was hard to gauge how old he was, Elena thought as she watched him. His face was gently lined, like he laughed a lot. “What do you like about it then?” she asked him.
He grimaced, staring again at the image. “Not much. Honestly, It makes me uncomfortable.”
That made her give his face a second look, a longer, assessing one. “Strong reactions aren’t bad, though. The point of good artwork is to make you feel something.”
The smile he gave her was lopsided. “Fair enough. What do you feel when you look at it then?”
Staring at the little boy’s face, Elena answered without thinking. “The role of perceived maternal favoritism in sibling relationships in midlife,” She felt her cheeks flush hot when he gave her a curious look. “Sorry, that was terribly specific.”
His gaze sharpened. “And I’m terribly interested in why.”
“I tend to read a little too much into everything,” she told him. “I hate that I do it but I can’t help myself.
He nodded, a gentle nudge to continue. Elena thought she kinda liked him. There was no expectation to be someone else or talk like someone else. Just a genuine interest in what she had to say, and that made the words come easily.
“There’s something very lonely about him,” She said. “There are people-other kids-right behind him, yet he’s separate. That ball, his shoes, he’s obviously very active. Loves sports. But he’s sitting in stillness for some reason. It makes me wonder what his family life is like. How he’s loved, if he feels separate when he goes back in that house too. Or if being outside,” she paused, and Chandler’s face flashed in front of her, “if finding something he’s good at, something physical and tangible and independent, gives him the affirmations he’s craving.”
In the silence that followed, she felt a slow flush of embarrassment crawl up her skin. She might as well scream Beware of Psych Major for everyone in the house to hear. When she grimaced, he stepped closer to the photo, assessing it carefully.
“No wonder you looked like you were about to burst into tears,” he mused.
Under her breath, Elena laughed and felt her embarrassment wash away. “Like I said, I can’t help it,”
“Indeed.” He grinned and looked younger when he did. Elena ducked her head, unsure what to say. “No, no, don’t be embarrassed. It’s a wonderful thing, that you can look at that child and see all of that.”
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He smiled. “It’s been a genuine pleasure to meet you, young lady. Miss Elena, Emily’s sister, is that right? Elijah has mentioned your sister a couple of times.”
Elena opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted when another voice joined them, just as a big hand slid around her waist, settling easily as if it belonged there.
“There you are,” Chandler said. He grinned widely when Elena slowly lifted an eyebrow. “I was looking around for you. Thought you got lost.”
Greyson Kendrick moved his eyes between them. “It’s my fault entirely, son.” He said, “I’ve been monopolizing her. She’s quite intriguing.”
Chandler’s eyes touched briefly on her lips when he answered. “That’s one word I’d use.”
Elena felt her mouth open slightly. What was he doing? They were standing in front of his father and he was staring at her lips-like he wanted to devour them in one bite. Hand still firmly in place along her back, Chandler smiled. Elena blinked at the sight of it. It was wide and bright and happy, and his father didn’t miss it either.
“She had some really interesting things to say about that painting,” Grayson continued, and turned to Elena again. “I’m sure you’d like also like a tour of the house when you have fully rested,”
Elena nodded, “Yes, that would be great, sir. You have a lovely home,” she replied, and felt Chandler’s arm stiffen around her.
“I think I’ll take it from here, dad,” he cut in, “I’ll be happy to give her that tour when she’s ready,”
Grayson nodded, “Alright, then. Welcome once again, Elena,” He glanced back and forth between them. “Keep hold of this one, Chandler. She’s a keeper.”
Neither of them answered, for entirely different reasons, but as his father walked away, she took a cautious step away from Chandler. His hand slid off her back as she realized they were alone again.
—————
Chandler did not look pleased after his father left. He turned to Elena immediately, “What the hell were you discussing with him,”
Elena tilted her head to one side, but there was laughter in her voice. “Chandler, are you upset that I’m getting along with your father? A lot of people would be happy about that sort of thing, you know? Normal people… But I guess you’re just far from normal. You don’t have to do that with me and your dad, you know?”