Gibson
I had been pissed off by her assumptions, but when I held Sacha in my arms, all that melted away. She only saw what she saw-after all, I wasn't really being myself, was I? For a moment, I was tempted to tell her the whole truth. But I hadn't decided yet that I would go back to my old life, and it wouldn't be fair to dangle a life of luxury in front of her and then take it away. So, I kept silent. Soon she withdrew from my arms to look up at me with those deep green eyes, now full of compassion.
"I can't imagine what you've been through, Gib. That must have been awful."
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "It was. But now I have hope. For the first time in a long while."
I gave her hand a squeeze as I released it, but she grasped it again and began walking. We wandered back to the festival tables, hand in hand. Entering a tent, she released my hand to point at a painting.
"Oh, that's beautiful. So real."
A man stepped forward, gray hair in tangles down to his shoulders. He had a huge smile on his wrinkled face. "Thank you. I'm the artist. It's a local scene. This park, in fact."
The painting was done in a somewhat impressionistic style, but the effect made it shimmer. A huge oak tree was the centerpiece of the scene, set in blazing autumn colors.
Sacha stepped forward to take a closer look. "Really? I thought it looked familiar."
The artist laughed. "Well, it doesn't look exactly like this. They had to put a fence around the Fortune Tree. That's what people call the oak in the center."
Sacha smiled in recognition. "I've heard of that tree. Do people really believe it tells fortunes?"
"Oh, yes. So much so, they had to block it off for fear the old tree would be damaged." He looked at me, and I'm sure I looked bewildered. He explained, "Legend says if you carve or draw a dollar sign on the tree, you'll come into money. If you draw or carve a heart, you'll find true love."
I said the first thing that came into my mind. "Better to draw both then."
Sacha chuckled then asked how much the painting cost.
The artist stroked his gray beard and looked over at the woman behind him. Her hair was also long and streaked with gray, her denim shirt splattered with paint. She was rearranging items on a table, unaware of our conversation. Then he nodded in her direction.
"This one's my wife's favorite, so I couldn't part with it for less than three hundred. I'll have to paint another one for her because we met under that very tree, years ago."
Sacha smiled, glancing at the woman. "Aww. That's so sweet. Maybe you should keep this one then."
The artist smiled back and winked at me. "Let me know if you change your mind. The painting might be good luck for you."
We continued on, and the mood was lighter than before. As Sacha browsed a clothing tent, I excused myself to find the restroom. When I returned a while later with the tree painting in hand, her shocked expression and the delighted smile that followed made my day.
"You bought it! I can't believe it."
"Maybe it will bring us luck. You take it home."
"Are you sure? You shouldn't have spent all that money."
I handed the painting to her. "Don't worry about it." She actually blushed.
"Thank you."
A moment passed between us, and I thought she was going to kiss me, but she held back. She took my hand and cocked her head.
"Come on. Let's go check out our tree."
Ours. Something is ours. It's a start…
Sacha saw the Fortune Tree from across the park and squealed. "There it is. Not as many leaves now as in the painting, though."
It was near where we had sat by the food trucks. She hadn't paid any attention to it then. As we walked, she told me of rumors she'd heard about a lucky tree in the local park but never had cause to check it out. Until now.
The fence that encircled the tree was a flimsy portable fence, and though signs were posted to warn people away, two kids had dared to trespass. With markers in hand, they were drawing on the tree and laughing. When she stood in front of the fence, I held up the painting.
"Yep. That's it. He even got some of the graffiti on the bark. Look."
She studied the painting and looked at the tree. The artist's rendition was not as riddled with scribbled marks as the real one but close. Sacha wrinkled her nose. "I'm not superstitious, but it's a sweet idea."
"Maybe this replica will work just as well."
I winked at her and was rewarded with a smile. Maybe Sacha Rowan was okay. I knew the painting was an impulsive gift, but she had shown me some empathy. Still, she continued to protest.
"I hope so, but you shouldn't have wasted money on that. I love it, but still…"
I frowned. She really was stubborn as an ox. "Consider it a peace offering. A sign of good faith in our future."
She looked at me, giving in. "I will. So, what happens now?"
"We hang the painting."
~*~