She surveyed her about-to-be-old work area,thinking how pinched it looked. Then she looked at her current painting, dryingon its easel.
It looked good. She’d worked on it the lastthree days, thrilled after they decided on the loft, and her excitement showedin her brushwork, the bright swoops and stabs of color pulled across the handsomewarrior’s tense, high cheekbone. Rawlie, his name was apparently - brave spacewarrior fighting attacking aliens and simultaneously protecting beautifulprincess Whatsername, tucked fearfully behind him in breast-revealing flowingfabric. Ha, see that? Even in the post-apocalyptic future it’s gotta be the guyprotecting the girl dressed scantily even in raging battle, but the author wasmale and that’s the cover the publisher wanted, so that was that.
Liddy sat on her stool before the painting,contemplating now her wide palette busy-bright with blobs of squeezed-out pigment.There was even more energy still in her brushwork on the palette itself - dabbing,mixing, smearing till the new hue was just right, waiting to be hoisted up onthe eager brush.
Liddy sighed.
The loft had energized her for three days.Even sleep had been better the last three nights, with no frightening dreams orvisions re-appearing until…
Today. Thursday. That apparition glowingbefore Charlie Bass’s plants. Hours had passed and Liddy still saw the girl,young and blond, weeping on the glass; still felt that sense of cold shock. Andthat visit to the police! The surprise that the detective was most interestedin Sasha Perry’s ear stud - which Liddy had seen and drawn and now couldn’tremember.
“Was I right about the teddy bear?” she asked.
“Close. Very close,” Detective Kerri Blasco smiled and said.
How the bleep close can you be to guessinga teddy bear and not have it be a teddy bear? It bothered Liddy;bothered her a lot because maybe remembering could help? Make the visions stop?
She shuddered. Stormed at herself to getnormal again. Happier times ahead!
She moved off the stool, which she’d beenusing because her leg still hurt, and turned on the Tensor light over her draftsmantable where she did her watercolors. She’d been rushing the Rawlie painting,working simultaneously on another job which called for an elaborate, scary watercolorof a woman fleeing terror in the rain. Jobs had piled up during herconvalescence. Great, now there’d be the pressure of the move andcatching up, and the fear of that poor girl’s face coming back...
Stop it, fight it! she stormed again, rubbinggoose bumps on her arms, going into the kitchen.
Eight-thirty read the glowing red digits onthe microwave. Liddy turned on the light over the counter and realized she washungry. Pulled something in a box out of the freezer, shoved it into themicrowave, sat and waited the three minutes while the magic motor whirred itslow, rumbling song and then went Ding!
“Oh!” she jumped, felt her heart leap. Sotense, she thought, gotta calm-
And her phone buzzed. She answered,gasping.
“Where’s the fire?” Paul, sounding worried.
“The microwave scared me.”
Silence. “My fault. You’re alone too muchnights. So if the damned thing just went off it means you haven’t eaten yet,right?”
“Right.”
“Am I interrupting anything gourmet anddelicious?”
“Dunno, didn’t look at the box.”
He laughed. “Then I’m just in time because I’mdone for the day. Want to go out? Romantic dinner at Chez Pierre’s?”
“Be still my heart.”
“I’m leaving now. Be home in ten minutesbarring traffic. Just think, soon - walking distance!”
15
She washed up and puton lipstick. In the bedroom changed into a white, belted tunic over her blackjeans. Wandered the living room again while she waited.
After they married she’d prettied up theplace as best she could, but the Recession had hit; her book-cover jobs ran dryand the research grant of Paul working alone was cancelled. So sorry, hardtimes, said the University and the Big Pharma firm that had wanted to partner.Four hard years followed; then suddenly things were better. Liddy found herwork more in demand than she’d dreamed possible - and fifteen months ago, afterPaul had moaned to Carl about losing his grant, a new grant with Paul and Carlresearching together for better speed was re-instated, big time, with lots ofexcitement and heavy-hitting science and business types all hopped up waitingto hear their presentation in five weeks.
What, really, had made that grant finallyhappen? Liddy had often wondered about that. Was it Carl’s family pull with BigPharma, or better times, or the fact that Carl’s idea for their research was slightlybetter? Paul said it was the latter two, which probably made sense althoughhe’d been toiling alone on something similar; would no doubt have come up withthe same damned thing if the wheels hadn’t started turning again so fast.
Liddy leaned on the door jamb, surveyingthe living room, realizing that she was saying good-bye to a big chunk of herlife. It was almost funny how they’d jam-packed so much stuff in here,knowing that they’d move someday and that this place was just a temporarywarehouse. They’d prowled antique and curio shops. Found a wonderful oldSpanish armoire which they’d cleared of dust and cobwebs and made beautifulagain. Ditto an old walnut desk, a big Spanish terra cotta jar, and a fatBuddha that was just a copy and did nothing but take up space. “Floor crowders,”Paul called them, but Liddy had loved them; still did.
She felt herself give way to a smile,realizing that the things jamming this old place would almost be lost in theloft; have more than enough room to spread out in and be beautiful. She toyedwith the idea of maybe a small spotlight beaming on the Buddha, maybe evenasking the construction guys to build a niche for him, off to the right of the fireplaceand the television…
Keys scraped at the door and there was Paul,filling the room with his
