Animate Me / Chapter Thirty-One / A Picket Fence and Pixar

“There are a lot of choices here, just pick one! Pick one so we can start!” ~Marlin

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning when I take Brooke’s hand and gently pull her toward my parents’ front door. As we pass through the threshold, Mom walks down the hall toward us, and calls out to Dad, “Arthur, Nathan and Brooke are here.”

She wipes her hands on her apron as she approaches us. “Brooke,” she says with reverence. She reaches out and pulls Brooke into her arms.

I can tell Brooke is taken aback, but she welcomes Mom’s affection. When they finally move apart Mom takes Brooke’s face in her hands. “Darling girl, what you did for my son…” She shakes her head with a wide smile. “I still can’t believe how brave you were.”

“I don’t know if I was brave,” Brooke says. “I just had to do whatever I could for Nathan.” Brooke lowers her head, like she’s still struggling with her role in the situation.

“We’re so grateful,” Mom says.

“I’m just so glad it’s over,” Brooke admits before smiling and turning to me.

Just then Dad bounds down the stairs, buttoning the cuff of his shirt.

“Brooke, our heroine!” he booms. His hug is considerably more awkward, yet still heartfelt.

“I agree, Arthur. Brooke’s our heroine…our super hero!” Mom exclaims.

Dad nods enthusiastically.

I cringe at their corny effusiveness. I hope Brooke isn’t too embarrassed.

“Thank you,” Brooke says softly. “You’re too kind.”

I lean over and kiss her on the cheek, completing the mush in this sappy love-fest.

I’ve just polished off my second serving of waffles and sausage when Dad shifts the conversation to Brooke’s work plans.

“So Nathan said you’re planning to open your own company. Will you be a consultant solely, or do you have other ambitions?”

“Yes, eventually I’d like to develop properties into shows and other licensing opportunities. Usually as a consultant, you’re brought in as a knee-jerk reaction to a problem with an existing show. Frankly, new work would be more rewarding.”

“And you won’t miss working with a larger company?” Mom asks.

“No, not to say I didn’t appreciate the big paycheck and high profile, but I felt like I was dying a slow creative death there. Every decision was made for financial viability with no regards to quality or conceptual integrity.”

“Well, my guess is that you will feel empowered once you rise above the corporate quagmire,” Dad responds. “I worked for a large company once, and it brought understanding to that joke about how many executives it takes to screw in a light bulb.”

“Yes, that was right after we were married,” Mom chimes in. “I felt so bad for Arthur, he was always frustrated.”

“And I was lucky because my sweet wife was willing to go without, so that I could try to make a living on my own.”

“I’ve always believed in you…and I knew you would be so much happier forging your own path.”

Dad nods in agreement. “It’s liberating to be able to make a sensible decision of your own, without having a gaggle of naysayers to offer up their two and a half cents.”

Brooke laughs out loud. “Yes, being able to make decisions without a committee is exactly what I need.”

I look at my parents and realize I hadn’t really heard them talk about this period of their lives around me in years. They’ve weathered their struggles so well, and it gives me hope that Brooke and I can too.

We all pitch in to clean up. Brooke and I clear the table. Dad’s washing the dishes while Mom puts things away. I keep noticing Brooke watching them with wonder. At one point Mom goes up to Dad while he’s working and kisses him on the cheek then whispers something in his ear. He laughs, then suddenly turns around and pulls her close for a kiss, his soapy wet hands wrapped around her waist.

Brooke catches me observing them and she blushes. I’m so used to Mom and Dad’s affection that I don’t think anything about it, but it seems to be a revelation to Brooke.

Before we leave Mom asks me to take the scraps to her composting thing in the back of the garden. Brooke follows me out and seems to be paying particular attention to the look and layout of the garden as I finish my task.

At one point she just stops and takes it all in. “It’s so beautiful out here,” she says softly.

“It sure it is,” I agree. “And now that you’re their heroine, they’ll want you to hang out here all the time.”

She grins. “They like me, don’t they Nathan?”

I pull her into my arms. “They love you,” I assure her. “But how could they not? My mom told me once that she always hoped I’d meet someone like you.”

The kiss that follows lingers as a shimmer of light falls over us through the trees. Everything just feels incredibly right; it’s that moment when the final piece of the puzzle slides into place.

We say our goodbyes to my parents and head to the phone store. As we get out of the car, Brooke pulls out her cell phone and examines it. “Arnauld picked this out for me and I think when we’re done buying a new one I’m going to run over this one with my car.”

“I’ll be happy to help you with that,” I joke. But I’m not joking as I imagine backing up and going forward, over and over.

Brooke getting a new phone is going to be cathartic for us both. Even though it escapes logic, I feel betrayed by the old phone as it didn’t help me reach her during my days of desperate need.

Once inside the store, I stand back and watch Brooke with the salesman as she tries every phone that fits her requirements. She asks all the right questions and makes a confident decision. I make it a point not to chime in like Arnold would. Besides, I love watching my girl in action. She knows what she wants.

I hold her hand while we wait for them to do the data transfer and get her paperwork set. She looks at me bright-eyed. “This is a fresh start, isn’t it?” she asks smiling.

I nod and kiss her on the forehead.

“It’s funny how the small things can make me so happy,” she shares.

I nod. “I’m like that too.”

The salesman hands her the bag full of phone stuff, and she turns towards me. “Can we go home now?” She realizes her slip and corrects herself. “…I mean, back to your house?”

I grin. “Sure, let’s go.”

Back at my place I try to keep the mood casual. While I water the plants in the backyard, Brooke sits out on the back porch working on something. When I approach her to see what’s she’s up to, she pulls it up to her chest to hide it. I realize she has my sketchbook and the colored pencils I gave her are spread out next to her.

“What’re you doing?” I ask in a casual voice.

“None of your concern,” she answers, making a face at me.

“Is that the sketchbook I gave you?”

“Maybe,” she teases.

“Are you doing a drawing for me?”

“Maybe.”

I smile and continue watering the flowers next to the porch.

“Hey Nathan, you know I’m not good at drawing, right?” she asks, suddenly worried.

“Brooke, I don’t care if you draw stick-figures, I just want to see us the way you do.”

“I think this should be in the future since there’s no mystery as to where we are right now.”

“That’s true.” I grin at her words and the certainty in her tone. The reality of our relationship is no longer a question that needs an answer.

“The future’s good,” I agree. “How about a couple of years from now?”

She tips her head considering, but doesn’t seem convinced.

“…or five years or how about ten?” I figure I’m pushing it, but why not? As far as I’m concerned, Brooke owns all of my future.

Her eyes light up like she has a picture in her mind. “Okay,” she replies smiling, before ducking her head and getting back to work. But then she looks up again.

“This won’t be a masterpiece, but it’ll be from my heart.”

“That’s what matters the most to me,” I assure her.

“But your drawings are so amazing,” she laments.

“Brooke,” I warn her. “What did I say?”

“That the fact that it’s from my heart matters most to you.” She grins.

“Exactly.”

After dinner I ask Brooke if she wants to see a movie, but she has something else in mind. She still hasn’t shown me her drawing, but I figure when she’s ready to, she will. I watch her expression as she tries to decide what to do.

“Nathan.” She pauses and seems hesitant, then finally looks up at me. “Would it be okay if you showed me your studio again…you know, where you work on B-Girl.”

I smile inside. “Sure, I’d love to.” I guide her by the hand down the hall and into the studio. She’s been in this room before, but back then she didn’t know about B-Girl. This will be a much different visit. I point to the drafting table. “This is where I’ve sat endless nights thinking about you and drawing B-Girl.”

She smiles sweetly at me, noticing the Wonder Woman figurine overlooking where I create.

Before we start I pull open my flat files and take the current work out and spread it across my drafting table. There’s already a full set of the printed final B-Girl issues at the side of the table closest to her.

She looks shy and apprehensive to be here, but I’m excited. She reaches up and slides the top comic toward her. “You’ve got such a great story sense, Nathan. And you have no idea how much I love B-Girl, and not just because I inspired her…she’s a great character.”

“You read them already?” I ask, pointing to the stack of comics. “All of them?”

“Yes, I did…of course. I read them all this week and loved every single issue.”

I smile at her. She can only imagine how long I’ve hoped to hear those words.

“Can you tell me about your process?” She asks excitedly. “How do you get your story ideas? Do you write the entire story out first, then go back and illustrate it?”

I love it so much that she’s genuinely interested in how I do this. I pull out of the pile loose pages of notes and some rudimentary layouts to show her. “I outline the story first, then do a real rough layout where I start blocking in the type.”

“I can’t believe you’ve done all of this yourself,” she says with admiration.

“Well, luckily I’m pretty fast. And besides, it’s exciting to me. I’m inspired since I’ve always been in love with my subject…” I grin at her and she grins back. “…and I still am.”

She runs her fingers along my arm. “So what are you working on now?”

“I just finished these pages. It’s the conclusion of the Monkey Man storyline. I’m retiring him now. I don’t think he’s relevant.”

“Did your lawyer tell you to drop it?”

“No, the agreement Arnold signed protected me against all future claims, but I’m done with him. I want him out of our lives.”

“I agree,” she responds as she considers what I’m saying. “So how did you end the storyline? Did you kill him off?” Her eyes get wide, her expression playful.

“No, that would have been too easy. Here.” I sort through some of the pages. “Do you want to see? It’s not pretty.”

“Hell, yes,” she says in a low voice that isn’t entirely playful.

“So the minions had turned on Monkey Man and to enact revenge, he planned to blow up the factory while they’re still inside. B-Girl got to him in the nick of time and disabled him with her stun power. The authorities arrived to find him a quivering, drooling mess on the floor.”

“Oh yeah,” she comments with a dark pleasure.

“And from there he was transported to Primate Prison where he was thrown in the same cell as a massive alpha gorilla named Big Lou. Unfortunately for Monkey Man, Big Lou is in an amorous mood and has a thing for little furry monkeys.”

“Oh no…you didn’t!” She giggles.

I hold up the drawing. “Yes, I did. See, the last time we see Monkey Man he’s clinging to the cell bars crying for help while Big Lou picks the bugs out of his fur and prepares him for mating.”

“Oh, that’ll be really painful.” She laughs mischievously. “Poor, poor Monkey Man!”

“Yeah, my heart just breaks for him,” I agree, rolling my eyes.

“You’re so clever,” she says, sidling up to me.

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know I noticed when I was reading that you worked some of my real life outfits and mannerisms into the story from the very first book on.”

“You noticed.” I’m embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

“You really did pay close attention to me back then.”

“I’ve always paid close attention to you.”

She picks up another issue and lays it open on the desk, then points at B-Girl. “See, here’s that cute outfit I wore the day we met at Geek World.”

“You looked so sexy in that. Will you wear it again for me sometime?”

“How about tomorrow? It’s not like I have to dress up for work or anything.”

I get excited realizing that she intends to see me tomorrow too and not just throw herself into working all the time. Maybe soon the days and nights will just blend into each other and we’ll never be apart.

“Hey, can I watch while you draw B-Girl? Maybe you could draw something for me?”

“Sure.” I think about it a moment and then brush my hand over a fresh page of paper in my pad before teasing her by drawing soft, loose lines that slowly build towards an image.

Brooke stands up and leans in, looking over my shoulder. I feel her breasts against my back and I have to push the dirty thoughts out of my head while I work. I can feel her breath against my neck and a tiny moan when she sees B-Girl finally take shape.

Her warmth against me is distracting in the most wonderful way. I can barely keep working and it takes my complete focus to finish the drawing. Finally, I hold the pad up and review the image of B-Girl sitting on top of the world, like it’s an oversized beach ball. She looks powerful and sexy…and of course, she’s beautiful. I took extra time sketching her hair so it’s flowing behind her.

“Do you like it? See…you’re on top of the world.”

“I love it!” she says happily. “Can I have it? I’m going to frame it.”

“Sure,” I respond happily, handing it to her.

She kisses my neck and hugs me. “So is B-Girl always alone? Does she have a special someone?”

“Funny you should ask,” I reply. “She does. She has a boyfriend who I’m introducing in the next book.”

She grins. “Oh good…a boyfriend! So what are his special powers?”

“He’s a mere mortal.”

“Really?” The look on her face is priceless. “So she’s open-minded about such things?”

“Yes, B-Girl’s brilliant. She knows that sometimes you find the best things in life where you least expect them.”

“Are they happy?” she asks.

“Supremely happy,” I assure her. “He worships his B-Girl and would do anything for her.”

“I see. And does she worship him?”

“I think so…I hope so.”

“I bet she does,” she whispers before she swivels me in my drafting chair until I’m facing her. “If he’s anything like you, then she worships him completely.”

She must know by now what those words do to me. I take a deep breath and try to control my overwhelming desire to push the drawings aside and take her on my drafting table.

Slow, Nathan. Go slow…

I wrap my hands around her hips and slide my chair closer to kiss her, gently at first but then the passion builds. As I reach up and cup her breasts, I remember the first time I held her like this. Just like now, she moaned as I pleasured her, yet my heart was insecure. I didn’t know back then if she merely pitied me, or if her lust was genuine.

So now as she chants my name and presses her hand over me through my jeans, there is no question of her true desire. My fingers slide under her skirt, stroking her thighs higher and higher until they slip under her panties. She rocks into my tender touch.

“Take me here, Nathan,” she whispers huskily, as she leans back against the table full of drawings.

A low growl escapes out of my tight chest. My dream’s coming true… my studio’s about to be set on fire by Brooke and her magic ways. I help her pull off her skirt and panties before lifting her up in my arms.

I can’t help smiling inwardly. How many times did I fantasize about taking Brooke on this table where I draw her every night?

In the frenzy, the Wonder Woman figurine face plants on the credenza while Monkey Man’s demise scatters over the floor. The room smells like sweet naked Brooke and lusty sex.

I love it…every part of it. My Toontown office will never be the same.

• • •

Late that night as we crawl into bed she brings the sketchbook with her. I try to contain my anticipation as she cuddles up to me.

“Do you want to see what I drew?” she asks sweetly.

“Sure.”

“You know when I thought about what I wanted the final drawing to be, I knew I didn’t want it to be about work or our careers. All I cared about was that we’d be together…the rest is secondary.”

I smile, realizing how much thought she put into this.

“So I closed my eyes and listened to your suggestion… where would we be in the future—like in ten years…and this is what I saw.”

She slowly opens the cover and sorts through the pages until she gets to the back of the book. “Here we are.” She carefully flips the pages over the spiral and sets the pad down on my lap. “I hope you like it.”

I lift the pad and study it. I can tell she’s watching intently for my reaction, and I don’t even have to perform. My grin is natural and heartfelt. The drawing is charmingly amateur, but she’s clearly put a lot of thought and effort into it.

Brooke and I are on the beach holding hands. She’s wearing a B-Girl style swimsuit. There are two small people and something that resembles a dog gathered together, just in front of us at the shore.

“Did you know how much I love the beach? Where is this?” I ask her, avoiding the bigger points of interest.

“Hawaii,” she replies. “I want to go there with you. It’d be really romantic.”

I make a mental note to call Mom’s travel agent tomorrow. “And your swimsuit…it looks B-Girl inspired,” I point out.

“Nice touch, huh?” she asks, watching for my reaction.

“Yes. I love that. And who’s this?” I ask, pointing to three small figures near the shore.”

She carefully gestures as she explains. “These are our children: Walt and Mary, and that’s our dog, Pixar.”

Pixar.

“We took our dog with us to Hawaii?”

“We take him everywhere. He’s a dog with super powers…he protects and babysits the kids.”

I laugh. “I see…but just two kids?”

“Well, I went from a firm zero to two with you, baby…so I wouldn’t push it.”

I take the book and prop it up on the nightstand so it faces us, before pulling her into my arms. “It’s perfect. I love your drawing, and I love you.”

She looks at me intently. “Really? You don’t mind if we only have two kids?”

“As long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy with anything that comes our way.” But then a thought occurs to me so I pick up the sketchbook again and examine the drawing more closely. “We had kids without being married?” I ask, feigning concern.

“What? Of course, we’re married. Why did you assume that?”

I hand the pad back to her. “Well, where are our rings?”

She rolls her eyes. “I see you’re a detail man. Do you have a pencil here, or do I need to get up and find one.”

“Open the drawer next to you,” I instruct.

She finds a pen, and with her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates, she carefully enhances her drawing by adding a tiny ring to each of our ring fingers.

“There,” she says, satisfied.

“That’s better,” I agree.

She studies the figures by the shore, and lightly runs her fingers over Walt and Mary. “I’m not sure I’ll be a good Mom,” she admits. “But you make me want babies, Nathan. You make me want a friggin picket fence and meatloaf on Sundays.”

“I make you want meatloaf on Sundays?”

“Yeah, she says, curling into me. “I wanna be your woo-man.” She giggles at her joke. “And I don’t know how good I’ll be at trying to balance having a career and being a mom one day, but I want to try.”

She has no idea what this is doing to me. I trail kisses across her cheek and pull her closer. “You’ll be great,” I say with confidence. “And we’ll do it together. We’ll be a team.”

“The dynamic duo,” she agrees.

“Anything else you want?” I ask.

“I want you to hold me tight. You have a way of making me feel like I’m all that matters.”

“Because…” I push her to continue.

“I am all that matters.”

“By George, I think you’ve got it.”

We’re wrapped in each other’s arms about to doze off when I’m compelled to bring up something that’s bothering me. “Brooke,” I whisper.

“Mmmm?” she responds, winding her arm even tighter around me.

“Walt Evans?” I ask, as I stroke her shoulder.

“Don’t forget his sister, Mary Blair Evans,” she insists.

“Mary Blair? The famous illustrator who worked for Disney?”

“Yes,” she replies, grinning.

I almost laugh out loud. She’s so damn cute…she’s killing me with this. “Brooke, love…those are great names. Grand, noble names, but…”

“Yes?” she says, I feel her body tense against me.

“I’m a Looney Tunes guy, Brooke. When you throw in Pixar, we got three for Disney, and a big fat zero for Warner Bros. It’s just not right.”

“That’s true…Disney acquired Pixar,” she responds thoughtfully. “Well, what do you suggest?”

“There are a lot of greats of animation at Warner Bros.,” I point out.

“For the record, although I love their work, I’m not a fan of the name Friz…nor Chuck for that matter,” she huffs.

“Well, there’s Carl, or Leon…or how about Robert? There are two Roberts, Clampett and McKimson.”

“I like the name Robert,” she agrees. “Robert Walter Evans. I like the sound of that.”

I grin. She still got the Walt in there. “Those are some pretty big shoes for that little guy to fill,” I warn her.

“Yeah,” she sighs. “But he’ll have our toon-genes baby, and all our love to help him along.”

“And don’t forget Mary. She very well may outdo us all,” I point out.

“Mary’s going to kick ass,” she agrees. “She’ll be our little Power Puff Girl.”

“Anything else?” I ask. “As long as we’re sorting this all out.”

“Let’s see,” she says, thinking out loud. “We’ve got the love nest with the picket fence.”

“Check,” I respond.

“Two kidlets, Mary and Robert.”

“Check.”

“A Golden Retriever named Pixar.”

“Golden Retriever? I like those…check.”

“Meatloaf on Sundays.”

I laugh. “Check.”

She pauses.

“Anything else?” I ask as I pull her up over me. All this talk is making me wild. I want her again…badly.

The good news is I think she wants me again, too. She spreads her thighs and lifts up so she’s straddling me. “You,” she whispers.

“Me? Oh, you’ve always had me.”

She nods, then leans over and kisses her way up my neck. “Yes, most definitely you,” she chants; her expression loving as her breasts graze my chest. I reach up and fill my hands with her softness.

“Are you sure?” I challenge playfully, as I give her my love.

The heat is radiating off her. She swivels her hips provocatively.

Oh, Brooke…

She nods, certainty in her big blue eyes.

“You.”

The End