I MISSED HOME AFTER SPENDING AN ENTIRE WEEK IN NEW YORK.
Out of Logan Airport, I turned my phone on as I rolled my luggage with me. I muttered thanks when the driver hopped off to tuck it into the truck and settled into the back seat to scroll through my missed calls and messages.
At the top of the messages was from Nick, which was a selfie with Max. He had sent me one every single day this week as evidence that he was handling his duty pretty well, and each made my day but also made me miss my dog more than I should have. I sent him a smiling emoji and opened the next one from Caroline. Her text was a simple Can we meet tonight, and I left her on seen for now to call her later to decide on the location.
Our relationship had developed ever since that lunch date. We had a few more lunch dates and a supper date, but there was something bugging me off about our thing. She was so pretty and nice, and probably had one of the best laughs I'd ever heard, but she lacked something that I was looking for. I couldn't put my finger on what it exactly was though, and was dwelling on the fact that I was too picky and this uncertainty would pass as we would get to know each other.
With a soft jazz song playing in the background, I first called Mila to let her know that I'd landed in the Hub safely. The phone rang a few times before she picked up. "Hey, Austin," she said breathlessly. "What's up?"
"Thought you'd be glad to know that I'm in Boston. Safe." I could hear hiss and hum in the background, suggesting that she was in her morning jog. "Are you jogging?" She let out a harsh hmm, seemingly in trouble with catching her breath. "I'll call you later, sis."
"No, wait," she said in panic at last. "Of course, I'm glad to know."
"How are midterms doing?"
"Not bad," she said. "I'm almost done, and that's what matters. I'm not a geek like you, but I'll pass all of them, don't worry. How was the conference?"
"Interesting—really refreshing." I supposed she wouldn't want to know more about what I'd learned. "Anyway, keep on jogging. I'll see you."
"Wait," she said in panic for the second time. "It's your turn to dare me."
I huffed. "I dare you to end this madness. Seriously, Mila. I mean, we were young when we started, but this isn't funny anymore." I heard her defensive grunt followed by but it is a tradition mutter. If something was impossible, that was convincing Mila Mayer. "Okay," I said in defeat. "I dare you to visit me as soon as possible."
The chuckle she'd let out on the line was worth it. "Easy peasy. I'll see you soon, brother." After we ended the call, I leaned back in my seat. I didn't feel it back down in New York, but fatigue was slowly catching up with me. Since I was taking the day off, I couldn't wait to go home and sleep all day.
When I entered home, it was pleasant to find it neat. I threw the keys into the bowl in the hall stand and stumbled toward my room. Nick was still out with Max, so I seized my leisure without the noise. As I was about to plop down on my bed, I spotted my canvas standing on the corner of the room. The cleaning lady must have taken it out of the dresser when she was tidying up.
I hadn't touched it in two months. I couldn't. I didn't sit in front of my canvas unless I had the inspiration, and none struck me. Painting was my way of releasing my stress, collecting my thoughts, and recharging. I had been feeling lost for a while and it was probably related to my lack of activity.
The urge to paint suddenly wiped the trace of fatigue in my veins. I took out my brushes and paints and changed into a pair of clothes that I wouldn't mind messing up. After spreading over the sheet underneath the area I was going to paint, I sat in front of the blank canvas and closed my eyes.
I forced myself to think of something that made me feel different recently. Sweat drops streamed down my forehead, my heart pounded against my chest and my leg picked up a rhythm bouncing on the floor. My mind was as blank as the canvas itself. I couldn't remember one moment that made me feel something in two freaking months. Nothing that would spark inspiration within me.
You're so self-centered, Austin. You can only love yourself.
These words my ex-girlfriend said stuck with me through the years. I guess it stemmed from the reason that nobody told me otherwise. I squeezed my eyes and inhaled a sharp breath. I wasn't self-centered—I was a doctor. My job was to help people. But then, why couldn't I remember a distinct feeling that made me feel alive in two months?
Picking up a brush, I fixated my gaze on the canvas and blocked out my mind. Maybe, if I didn't dwell on finding something particular, I could find that sparkle I was looking for.
I dipped the brush into the black paint and applied it to the canvas. The ache of my muscles or the thirst didn't waver my attention from the painting before me. I only put the brush down when it was finished. My hands were painted black in the wake and I wasn't sure whether my face was wet because of sweat or tears.
I painted a silhouette of a woman. I stared at the piece for a while, my hands on my lap and I tried to identify it—did it look like someone? The posture was so dark that it was impossible to know. Sometimes I couldn't specify what I had painted, but as long as they helped me cope with stress, it was fine. As I threw one last glance at the painting, I realized it made me feel lighter, though I didn't know the meaning of it.
I jolted to my senses when the front door unlocked and someone walked toward my room with a pair of paws. As Nick's voice echoed in the corridor, I glanced at the painting and tucked it under my bed, though it was nowhere dry yet. I ended up tucking everything under my bed, noting to tidy them later when I was alone.
When he pushed the door open, I was caught with black hands, but at least I'd saved my dignity.
"Hey, dude," Nick beamed. "Welcome back." I acknowledged him with a nod as I stormed past him to wash my hands. I heard him follow me and could feel his curious gaze on me, but he didn't ask me anything. "I met someone."
After I dried my hands, I turned to him. He looked quite sappy, leaning against the door. He didn't mention this during our calls, and from the way his eyes shone, this someone was special.
"Who? When? How?"
"Thanks to you," he said. "We met at the park when I was walking Max. She works at the diner across from your hospital and she's the sweetest thing ever. I mean, it was love at first sight, not even kidding."
Wait, really? This description fit perfectly to her. "You fell in love with Kara?"
Nick frowned, looking at me. "You know Kara?"
"Yeah," I said, rubbing my neck. "Uh, we met two weeks ago—at the park." I wondered how well he had known her. What made him love such a woman? She had the sharpest comebacks and a rare smile. I brushed past him to walk toward the parlor.
As Nick sat beside me, he threw his arm over the head of the sofa. "I'm talking about Sarah," he said, tearing me up from my thoughts. "Kara is her colleague. She's cool, too, but too tough for me." Yeah, she was. His face broke into a smile. "Since you know Kara, can you arrange a meeting for us or something?"
I let out a quick no. He gave me puppy eyes. "I don't know Kara," I clarified. "I only ran into her,"—three times, but who cares—"and I don't even have her number."
"Then you gotta tag along when I go to Jack's Diner. I don't want to be awkward. We can pretend we are there for lunch and I might ask for Sarah's number." I released a prolonged sigh, but he sensed that I was so close to giving in. "Come on, Austin." He nudged me with his arm. I held his gaze to make sure he was serious about this.
"Okay," I huffed. "I'm coming to have lunch with you, but that's all, okay? You're alone in this. Don't drag me into it." When Nick hugged me, Max started barking.
Maybe I could invite Caroline along not to be third-wheeled. Two birds with one stone were my thing, after all.
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See you next week,
Sev xx
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