Dinner ended. And after helping her mother with the dishes, Maven went out to the porch. Nick was sitting on the big porch swing texting away.

“Hey, Mave.”

“Hey, what are you doing?” She asked, taking a seat next to him. The swing picked up speed and they fell into sync swaying back and forth.

“I am texting April about tomorrow,” he said, never raising his head from his phone.

“What’s tomorrow?” Maven tried looking at the text, but was quickly shoved away.

“Are you sexting, Nicholas Wilder?” Her face lit up with amusement.

“Tomorrow I’m taking her to see a movie,” Nick said as a matter of fact. Like it wasn’t a big deal. He had dated a lot of girls over the years, none of them ever lasted.

“That sounds nice.”

Nick dropped the phone on his thigh and leaned to the side. He slipped a hand into the pocket of his blue jeans, retrieving a piece of paper. He tossed it to Maven. “April told me to give this to you.”

Maven stared at the seven digits scrawled across the paper. She looked at Nick bewildered.

Nick sighed. “It’s that kid’s number. She wanted you to have it.”

She shook her head feeling ridiculous. If Henri wanted her to have his number he would have given it to her himself. She tried passing it back. Nick waved his hands denying her the chance. He grabbed hold of his phone and went right back to texting.

“I don’t want the number if his cousin had to give it to me.”

“She wouldn’t have given it to you if she thought he didn’t want her to.” Nick argued. “You two hung out all day, all signs point to yes.”

“Yes what?” She made a face. “What does yes mean?”

“I don’t think he would mind if you had his number is all that I’m saying.” Nick watched her slip it into her pocket.

“So what do you think about Henri?” She looked over at him, his brown hair shielding his eyes from view. “Do you think he’s better than Jake?”

Nick started laughing. “Are you already sizing this guy up?” He tousled her hair teasingly. “Anything is better than Jake.”

Maven rolled her eyes. “That’s what I hear from everyone.”

“He’s a little skinny, but he seems alright. April says he is a really nice guy.” Nick’s expression grew serious. “And you need nice people in your life, Maves.”

She pulled the number out of her pocket and studied it.

 

ART

HE WAS SITTING at the yogurt hut. Not working, just eating.  Replaying the words of Dr. Wilder in his head—that things hadn’t changed. Nothing ever changed for him. But today he was saddened by this, more than usual. Today it didn’t matter how blue the sky above him was. He was miserable.

Maven watched him from afar. Standing with her father as he shipped some packages at the post office, she held one hand against the counter, the other twirling a strand of blonde hair. She only wanted him to notice her. But he was concentrating on his yogurt and nothing else.

Dad thanked the post office attendant, tucking his receipt in the front pocket of his shirt.

“Did you want to head home for lunch or do you have other plans?”

She broke her stare long enough to give her dad an answer. “I think I’m going to talk to Henri.” Her dad turned quickly, he was eager to lay eyes on Henri. He looked harmless enough.

“Alright, I will see you later. Call if you’re going to be late.” She kissed his cheek, watching him head back in the opposite direction. Maven gave herself a quick glance in the window. She ran her fingers through her long hair. Securing the small flower that was holding the side of her hair in place. She smoothed her light pink camisole and even straightened her jean shorts before taking a step in Henri’s direction.

“Hey,” she said quickly, her shadow looming over the table where he sat. Henri lifted his head.  He gave her a smile and offered her a seat.

“What’s up, Maven?”

Maven leaned forward, eager to talk with him again. She had looked forward to it. “Nothing much. I’m glad I ran into you again.”

Henri raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Maven looked around, hoping Jake and Tatiana wouldn’t show up like the last time she was at the yogurt hut. “Yeah, I had a nice time swimming with you.”

Henri swallowed, looking away from the table.

Maven studied his suddenly cold demeanor. “Is everything alright, Henri?”

Henri’s eyes met hers. “What if I said things weren’t alright?”

Maven’s eyes grew large. “What do you mean?”

Henri thought about confessing his secret.

Today wasn’t the day.

“I don’t mean anything. Sometimes my mind gets the best of me.” He crumpled his napkin, tossing it into his barely eaten yogurt.  “Are you up for the art museum?”

Maven nodded. “For sure.”

***

The art museum of Portwood was within walking distance of just about everything. Maven loved the old fashioned cobblestone roads and the old style street lights.

They hurried up the massive set of museum stairs, pushed past the revolving doors, and were whisked away into displays of chic artwork. The summer heat a thing of the past as the air conditioning pumped plenty of cool air through the small museum.

Maven kept her arms crossed as they walked into the first room. It was a little cold. Henri’s hands were tucked into his pants pockets. There were only a couple people nearby. The museum wasn’t the preferred spot during the summer. Most people were busy swimming or doing something outdoors.

Maven stopped in front of an old oil painting, a scenic one, lush green grass, weeping willows and a young woman running across the painting, only she looked as if she was placed there later, she was so contemporary compared to the vintage feel of the backdrop, long flowing hair, porcelain skin. It was a stunning piece of art.

“This is kind of nice.” Henri stepped a little closer, his hands still caged in his jeans.

“It’s beautiful,” Maven confessed, she stepped closer, “My mind takes off when I look at artwork. I always want to know the reason behind all of it.”

“He probably loved her.” Henri turned his head. “Why else would someone paint such a picture?”

Maven searched the tag for a name. “How do you know it was a man?”

“Just a guess.”

Maven squinted at the blob like signature and gasped. “That’s Sandra’s last name.”

Henri nodded. “Yeah it is. Her grandfather painted many of the paintings in this exhibit.”

Maven was impressed. “Wow, Henri.”

“Artistic talent runs in the family. I don’t mean to boast, but I’m a great painter myself.” He smiled, moving on to the next painting.

“Do you have any in here?” Maven couldn’t believe how interesting Henri became the more she got to know him.

“Nope. But I have a closet full of old stuff I did a long time ago.” He studied an abstract piece growing quiet.

“Why don’t you paint anymore?”

“Have to have a reason to paint. I really don’t have one anymore.”

“I can draw a little. We should get together sometime and you can paint something.” She smiled at her idea.

“You.” Henri made a picture frame with his fingers, framing her smiling face with them. “I could paint you.”

“Okay, you can paint me. And I’ll even bring one of my own sketch books and draw you.”

Henri agreed. “Only if you promise you’ll keep it forever.”

Maven pushed into his arm. “Don’t be silly.”

“What should I be then?” His eyes held a certain intensity that made her heart skip a beat. She timidly pushed her hair from her eyes.

“Nothing, I wouldn’t want you to be anything but you.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. Henri turned away, paying more attention to the next picture to lighten the mood. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

At the end of the exhibit she couldn’t help but want it to go on forever.