Peaks Island

Chapter 9

Allison was sitting at the table in Mary and Daryl's cottage. Their house was more of a home than any place she'd ever been. Things seemed to fit, although compact, each room was comfortable, functional, and beautiful. Mary and Allison were drinking white wine and sitting at the kitchen table. The place smelled like chili and a breeze blew in through the open windows. The kitchen had wood floors and wainscoting. Mary's paintings hung on the walls, some of the larger ones were encaustic pieces. They had a narrative quality. The colors were mostly the off-white wax layers but underneath bright red pieces of fabric were visible. On some it looked like she'd written across the canvass in black ink.

"How do you get the words to look like that?"

"Transparent paper" she'd told Allison. "That's why it comes out so clear on top of the wax.

"What do they say?"

Instead of telling Allison she said, "encaustic is a funny medium, I think. You aren't just creating something timeless, it always feels to me like stopping time."

She was a beautiful woman. She caused Allison to crave the kind of relationship she had to offer. Mary was loving and motherly first and foremost. She was strong and beautiful. Mary often seemed preoccupied but as Allison grew to know her she realized that Mary was always looking at things with a critical artistic eye. So she managed everyday life simultaneously with an artist's preoccupation. Her voice was gentle. Allison loved that neither Mary nor Daryl were judgmental.

Mary fiddled with the plaid cotton table cloths, she traced the green lines around squares and then looked up at Allison. "who's this Gregg that Daryl invited over?"

"He's renting the big house."

"Do you like him?"

"Kevin and I are getting pretty serious."

She smiled at Allison. "I know, but do you like this Greg."

Allison shrugged. "I don't think he'll come over. Not anything to do with Daryl. I kind of offended him."

"What did you say?"

Allison drank down some more wine and looked up over the sink. There was a new clay 3-D collage. Allison felt comfortable being just as distracted and preoccupied as Mary and Daryl. Allison Stood up. "Did you just make this Mary?"

Mary stood up too and put her hands in her apron pockets. She took one hand out again and brushed her shoulder length wavy hair back behind her ear.

"Do you like it?"

Allison walked closer and looked up.

"Here hold on a minute," Mary said. She dragged a chair across the floor and got up high enough to take it down. She brought it over to the table and set it down.

Allison stared at it for a long moment. It was a ceramic face. It looked Roman. For what appeared to be Roman military head gear there were small sculpted fruit arranged and painted in red, greens, and orange.

"It reminds me of those fruit paintings. Those fantastic fruit portraits."

She put her hand on her chin and studied her own art. Allison watched her as she did.

Mary looked it over, nodded. "Giuseppe Arcimboldo. Yes. That's what inspired this one."

Allison touched Mary's arm. "I love it."

"Thank you sweetheart." She said. She continued to look at the picture for a moment. "his name is Ernest."

"Oh." Allison said.

"After an old boyfriend."

Allison told Mary not to wait on the chili. It was 6:30 and Greg wasn't there.