I’m sitting in a cafe with my best friend Fletch trying to explain to him why I can’t help Andie sell her paintings.
It’s simple actually, she wants to make it on her own, but trying to get that across to Fletch is ike trying to justify the ways of God to men.
He’s independently wealthy like me, but more entitled, and he can’t see why all life’s problems can’t be solved with money…
And he can’t get why I’m ‘wasting my time’ on someone who doesn’t reciprocate my feelings.
“Oh, great!” Fletch stops wiping the mayonnaise from the corner of his mouth and tosses the napkin into the air. “Nice play, Shakespeare. How do you get yourself into these dramas?”
I shrug. “Now you see why I can’t push things too fast.”
“No,” he smirks, “Now I see why you can’t push things at all. Face it, Chum—she’s damaged goods, burnt over ground.”
“Maybe, but I’ve got a problem, Fletch—I love her.”
He groans, leans back in his chair, one arm on the table, and the other held to his forehead in pain.
“Why—tell me why do you end up in these jackpots?”
He sweeps a hand around the flat—“Look, you’ve got the perfect artist’s garret here—the light from that skylight’s amazing—you two could live happily here the rest of your lives.”
“We could, if she could ever trust men again—and even if she did, there’s no guarantee I’d be on her list.”
He sighs, “So what do you want to do?”
“Help her, I guess. If it doesn’t work out, at least I’ll have supported her for a while. I really care about her, Fletch.”
Suddenly, he snaps his fingers. “I’ve got an idea. I’ll get Kayleigh to go to the gallery tomorrow when Andie’s showing her work and I’ll get her to offer to buy a canvas.”
“That’s brilliant!” I enthuse, “ and once Andie gets back on her feet, I’ll offer her the flat so she can come and paint here during the day while I’m at work.”
“But, you don’t work, Pal—you write.”
“Exactly. I can go write in a café or a library. I can write anywhere, but Andie needs privacy and like you said, the light here is amazing.”
“It’s worth a try.”
That night in the café I see a light in Andie’s eyes I’ve never seen before.
“You’d give up your flat for me?”
“Sure, why not? It’s empty during the day.”
She throws her arms around me. “I can’t believe my luck—first the painting sells, and now this—it’s incredible.”
“You deserve a few breaks, Andie—you’re really talented. I love your paintings.”
“Oh, did I tell you? The painting that sold is the one with the theatergoers milling about the sidewalk in the rain. Sorry, I know you loved that one.”
“I did love it, but I’m happy it sold. You can always paint another.”
Her eyes are gleaming. “I better go home and get to bed early tonight—I have a full day of painting ahead of me tomorrow.”
“Sweet dreams, Andie.”
She pauses and looks at me, for a moment vulnerable and uncertain, “ I really appreciate your help, Tuck.”
“I know you do,” I tell her, placing my hands on her shoulders and pointing her to the door, “Now go home and get your beauty sleep.”
She hesitates, wavering for a second, as if she means to kiss me, and then thinks better of the idea, and turns and hurries out.
I wait a minute and then shadow her home.
I don’t know if Andie’s coldness toward men will ever thaw, or if she’ll ever risk opening up again. All I know is I want what’s best for her.
I’m going home tonight to wrap up that canvas Kayleigh bought and take it with me tomorrow to Fletch’s apartment and hang it on his wall.
I’ll be able to come over and stare at it and see Andie’s soul anytime I want—and who knows, maybe someday she’ll open up and see mine.
I’d go to the ends of the world to make her dreams come true..
And hope some day she’ll feel my love.
Until then, it’s no pain to show her a litte mercy.
The world’s a cruel place and sometimes very lonely. It's a simple gesture to help her regardless of what pain it causes me.
