Eyes Like Sky ⚣ ✓

34.

Atticus was making sure I took into account other costs too, like rent for the studio, supplies, and the multiple loans I gave Nyra. All that was purely funded by my art.

"What about something short? Like an hour exhibit? Think about it, you could just pop in, say hi for a bit, and leave. All we really need is some good press to get people excited, then I'll run the next three exhibits on my own as you fade back into the shadows like some mysterious vaguely written character." Atticus explained.

I hated to admit he was right... but he was. Sometimes I forgot how committed Atticus was to making money.

"You promise it'll only be an hour? Knowing you, I could be roped into something much longer." I countered. Atticus was great at making me money, but that very quickly became his priority when he was in action. Often times, it came at the expense of my own love for what I was doing.

We were essentially that toxic power couple that were committed to still working things out past high school.

"You have my word." He promised.

We spent the remainder of that meeting planning for an exhibition I had no prior plans of mere hours ago.

Of course Atticus was ecstatic, this was like a dream come true for him. He pulled up the email list that had long been forgotten about, to draft up something that was sure to rock the art world (his words, not mine). I made him promise not to overpromise on this comeback, because I refused to stay longer than an hour.

I wasn't signing anything, or taking any questions either. Unfortunately Atticus roped me into writing a short book a few years ago before I fully lost my sight, and people were still requesting autographs.

Like I said, this man knew how to make money. I'm sure it was to ensure he his own financial success while working for me, but I couldn't be mad at someone just doing their job.

You wouldn't believe how shitty something can get when you're forced to monetize it. Atticus put a price on my work so I didn't have to, and I was grateful for it.

By the time I heard from Errol again, it was well into Friday night. I received a call from him which both excited and confused me, as I wrapped up my time in the studio. Dash was ready to leave himself, seeing as I usually gave him a snack to get him through the work day, but forgot one this morning. I really should just keep some food here, I thought to myself.

"Hi." Errol spoke, reminding me of the call I was now on.

"Hi." I replied, unsure of how to start this conversation.

"I- uh, sorry I've been so MIA. Deadlines are coming up with this showcase Hendrix and I are preparing for, we call it The Dinner Party." Errol explained, not caring to waste a moment. I was grateful he said something first, because anything I was about to say was going to make me look like some lovestruck idiot.

That was the exact opposite of how I was trying to come across.

"I meant to call earlier about this... but I actually had a question to ask you." This part peaked my interest, because with Errol, I absolutely never knew what direction the conversation was going in. Literally, he managed to surprise me every single freaking time. "Are you doing anything Sunday evening? Say around sevenish?"

Yep, a question I wasn't ready for. "I-  well... I don't think I have anything set planned." I settled on finally, taking a sip from the water bottle near my work station like that was going to fix my awkward sounding voice.

"Perfect. How do you feel about having dinner with me and my father?"

That made me choke on the liquid that was once going down just fine. "I'm sorry- your father?" I asked without thinking. It came across with the same amount of confusion I was feeling, but I hadn't meant to sound so taken back. "I mean- I just-"

"It's really not like that." Errol insisted quickly, which somehow made me feel a bit uncomfortable... a feeling I shouldn't have been feeling in the first fucking place. "I mean it's like- so I think you guys had a bit of a relationship of sorts and I think he's just missing my mom. Missing the people who were around and knew her so well, that sorta thing." Errol explained, making me feel a bit better. "You can absolutely say no, and I wanted you to know that I won't bring up... uh, well us. I don't want you to feel pressured about that, he'll probably make a pot roast, ask some general questions, and send us on our merry way."

What had once started as a very rocky conversation, was starting to smooth itself out a bit.

"I think that would be fine." I said without thinking. Not a single thought crossed my mind in that moment, like how I was probably going to have to explain my disappearance these last few years. All that worry would eventually come after saying yes. "And I- uh, I appreciate you taking into account... everything." I struggled to finish that sentence as I searched for any way to describe what this was without using the word relationship.

There was a brief pause before Errol responded, like we were both searching for words here. "Of course, and it's not to say I wouldn't..." this pause felt astronomical. "Regard you in that way. Of course only if you were comfortable with that. In all honesty, I barely want to see this guy myself..."

Okay now it was pretty evident we were both dancing around this conversation with the least descriptive words possible, but I think I understood what he was getting at. Thinking back on how Atticus took the news about the hickey, I was very much against revealing this to anyone else. At least not now.

Somehow I just got roped into an exhibit, I did not have time for this.

"Yeah I'm probably not quite ready for that yet, but I appreciate the sentiment." These words sounded about as robotic as they possibly could the second they left my lips.

At this point, I couldn't tell whether this was two guys talking about a weird relationship that's randomly blossomed, or two employees sending corporate emails back and forth.

"Right yeah I completely understand." Errol rushed out, making me feel even worse about how god afully awkward I was being. "I promise it won't last long or anything. My dad's actually a pretty good cook too." Errol added.

"Yeah I know." I replied with a chuckle. "He was bamboozled into learning because Lia was fucking terrible at it."

That made Errol laugh, which in return made me release a small sigh of relief. It was the first good interaction we've had on this call yet. Of course, I was about to ruin all that fun with my next confession. "I should probably let you know that Atticus and Nyra know about... Sunday."

The pause through the line felt longer than a Pentecostal church sermon, but I held out, hoping Errol wasn't about to flip the trajectory of this call again.

"You did sorta leave some pretty damning evidence." I continued as my fingers grazed the spot he seemingly marked with his lips. This was really his fault if you thought about it. "And Nyra is completely fine with it. I just wanted to say something because she will more than likely comment about it if you two run into each other." My explanation was coming out faster than my brain could process. " Atticus threatened to call the cops at first, but I think he gets it now. Something tells me he would sooner throw himself off off a roof, than ever speak about this again. So you should be fine."

Here came another pause that I absolutely forced myself to shut the hell up through.

"I mean..." He started, keeping me on the edge of my fucking seat with these drawn out gaps. "I don't really give a shit about it, unless you do. The only thing that can bother me would be something that bothers you, how others feel about it is entirely useless to me."

••