The Porn Identity

Chapter 15

       "You think?" He wiped at his brow then grabbed the glass of lemonade.

       "Yeah."

       He tilted his head back and took a long drink. His swallows were audible. I guess he really was thirsty. "It's been a while since I've done an animal."

       "Really? I couldn't tell."

        "Yeah?"

       "Yeah. She's gonna love it." I nodded for emphasis. "Was there any doubt?"

       "Well...yeah." He stared down into his lemonade like the secrets of the universe were at the bottom of that cup. "It's been a long time...and I was never as popular as...Grace."

       This must be serious. He never says her name. "Well, popularity means nothing."

       He scoffed. "People say that but it's not true."

       "I suppose if one measured success by gross revenue, then yes, popularity matters."

       "Oh? And what are other kinds of success does one measure?"

       "Um...happiness?" He threw me a skeptical look. I sighed. "Okay, maybe you won't be the next Picasso."

       "Not with commissions like these—"

       "But! If it's what you love to do and you can get paid for it, then I consider the pursuit a success."

       He turned that over in his mind for a minute then smiled. "I do love it." We stared for a moment before he broke eye contact and looked toward his easel. "I should get back to work. She's expecting it to be ready next week."

       I put up my hands in surrender. "Alright, I can take a hint."

       I closed the door behind me and let him finish his work. Hopefully our little pep talk crushed all of his doubts. Maybe he wasn't high art material but he was talented, and there was no reason to let it go to waste.

       Towards the end of the day I went to check on Jackson. He was sitting at a table in the dining room, his head bent down and his pen furiously scribbling over notebook paper.

       "Hey, how's it going?" I looked over his shoulder and saw him writing down his recipe for his chocolate macarons.

       He put down the pen, stood, and stretched out his limps. "Good! Whatever asshole you hire after me will be set."

       Why's he got to be an asshole? "That's good to hear. And you're doing good?"

       He smiled wider than I've ever seen him smile. "Evie, I'm about to get my license, start a job making way more than I've ever made before, and after that I'm moving out of my momma's house. I'm more than good. I'm good, good, cuz."

      "Great—"

       "And!" he continued with a little joyful laugh. "I got a girl who loves me!"

        I tried to smile. It was stiff. "Oh. Okay..."

       "Evie..."

       "I said nothing."

       "You didn't have to." He frowned. "You don't like her."

       "I... well...I mean...she's ai'ight..."

       He cocked his head. "Come on."

       "I don't have to like everyone!"

       "No, you don't. But I remember I didn't like a certain cop and you told me any beef I had with him should be squashed just because you love him or some shit."