Fighting Fire

Chapter 10: Lillianna

                Skyy turned back to his computer and pulled up Google. He then typed in stranger.  When he found the definition of strangers he read it out loud, “Stronger, a person of no personal acquaintance.” Skyy leaned back in his chair and faced me again. “That's funny because that was my definition of stranger,” Skyy added sarcastically. “What's your definition?” He ended.

                “I mean we don't know each other very well,” I informed him.

                “Why did you come to my office?”

                “I thought you wouldn't be in here and I just wanted to see what your office looked like,” I blurted out.

                “Well this is my office,” Skyy said enthusiastically.

                I looked around the office for the first time to find it cluttered. There was papers and folders cover every inch of his desk. A book shelf lined the far left wall with nothing but more papers and criminology text books.  An empty coat rack sat behind his door next to a dying plant. What amazed me were the three paintings on his wall. There was a painting of a garden behind Skyy's head and to the left of that painting was another painting of the desert. They were beautiful painting but the painting that blew me away was of a child eating fruits on the wall behind me. I looked for the artist signature on the bottom right and realized I knew who she was. That artist always signed Katharine S.

                “You like art?” I questioned.

                “I do,” he answered.

                “This painter is one of my favorites,” I informed him as I pointed to the painting behind me with my right thumb.

                I've collected a lot of Katharine S. Paintings. She always brought color to her paintings no matter what is was. She was creative and talented. Only a couple of her paintings have graced us because she died before she was ever known.

                “She was my mother,” Skyy said softly but I could hear the pain in his voice. “She's probably why I like art.”

                “I'm sorry,” I said.

                I know what it’s like to lose a mother even if I didn't really like my mother at times. We only get one mother and she was mines.

                “She died when I was six,” Skyy explained.

                I did a mental calculation of Skyy’s age. His mom died 30 years ago, I was sure of that. So that would make him 36.  My next thought went towards how he’s 7 years older than I am.

                “I have a few of her paintings if you want to stop by and check them out,” I told him as a smile spread across his face.

                “So you just invite a stranger to your house,” Skyy joked.

                “On that note I'm leaving,” I said as I stood to my feet. “Just take care of yourself.” I informed him before I exited his office.

                “Goodbye Ms. Hoffman.”

                I left Skyy's office and went back to Blake's office, which was still empty. I wasn't to upset about it because I had something else to get to. I was sure I had a painting that was meant for Skyy from his mother in my attic somewhere. I felt the need to go home and find it for him. I think it would mean a lot to him.

                I rushed home and search every inch of my attic, which is not that big. The painting was nowhere in sight.  I was sure I didn’t hand it up anywhere. I thought I put it in the back of the attic for safe keepings but I only found my old journals and scrap books.

                “What are you doing,” Trina asked me from the doorway.

                I was sitting on the floor thinking about where that painting could be, while Trina stared me down with her hazel eyes.

                Trina and I have been friends since birth. She lived in the house next door and seems how we're both the same age we naturally became friends. How her and Trent became a thing I will never know. When we were younger Trent always made fun of her long legs and she retaliated by making fun of his girlie voice. For years they couldn't stand each other. Then high school came around and my brother lost the girlie voice and Trina grew boobs. Next thing I know Trina and I's girl time was shared with Trent.

                “You remember that painting that said for my son on it by Katharine S.” I asked her.

                “I kind of put it in our living room downstairs.”

                “I'm going to give it to Skyy.”

                “The detective?” Trina asked and I nodded my head. “Why.”

                “Katharine is his mother,” I informed her. She nodded her head and I could tell she understood why I would want to give it to Skyy. The painting was of a woman holding her son and I think the woman was Skyy's mother and she was holding him. “Why are you up here?” I asked her.

                The attic is my domain, the basement use to be my domain but Trina and my brother moved in. The attic wasn't as spacious as the basement but it works. Normally, Trina never comes to the attic. Too many stairs, so she says.

                “Trent and I went to the doctor today. We heard the baby's heart beat,” Trina beamed.

                Trina is only 10 weeks pregnant but after her last miscarriage they are keeping a close eye on the baby.

                “Do I get a picture,” I exclaimed at the same time Trina pulled out the picture.

                I quickly stood to my feet and retrieved the picture from her.

                “Boy or girl?” I questioned.

                I already knew you can’t tell the sex of the baby at 10 weeks but I was too excited to use my brain.

                “The doctor can't tell yet,” She informed me as I examined the picture. “Is there any chance you'll have kids so our kids can play together?”

                “No,” I said quickly.

                “O come on,” I looked up from the picture and stared at Trina. “You seem to like this Kyle guy.” I rolled my eyes. “He could be the one,” she added with a knowing smile.

                “I'm not interested,” I informed her.

                Skyy is a nice guy but he's not my type, not that I have typed.

                “You told me you felt like you missed out on something with Conner.” I nodded because I did say that but what did that have to do with Skyy. “He almost died for you. Do you want to miss out on something again?”

                She may have a point but I had no feelings for Skyy. He was just a cool person to talk to. I don't know anything about him. With Conner, I knew everything about him. I knew Conner for 6 plus years. I've known Skyy for a few weeks.

                “Are you going to give him that painting tomorrow?” Trina asked and I nodded. “Just let my handle your hair and clothes.”

                I shrugged my shoulders. Trina wasn't my sisters and I trust she would still keep it simple because I was not trying to impress Kyle Skyy nor did I want him to be impressed with me.