“So what would you create?”
Al’s eyes grew distant.
“If I were an artist, which I’m not, I’d create scenes to celebrate the simple things.”
“But you are an artist—you write, don’t you?”
Al’s stomach twisted as Lou watched him. His mind flipped through all the possible options.
“That’s freelance journalism.” He shrugged. “Not the same as museum-quality work.” He knew a lot of journalists who would smack him for saying that, rightly so.
“What do you write about?”
Al gulped and slipped a sly look onto his face.
“Are we talking work now? Because I have a few questions, too. Like when will you admit you sculpt miniatures out of cheese curds?”
“At the same time you reveal ‘freelance journalist’ is code for British dog walker to Milwaukee’s elite.”
Lou gave him a playful hip bump as she strode past him. He followed her over the parquet wood floors to the next room, where she paused to look at a painting of two vases of calla lilies. The colors and bold strokes reminded him of a Van Gogh or Matisse, but when he leaned forward he saw an unfamiliar name.
“This is the kind of painting I’d want. Bright, cheerful. It just makes me happy. It’s not making any bold statement.”
Al agreed and opened his mouth to say so when a dog started barking from Lou’s cleavage. She turned pink and reached into her shirt.
“Sorry—work.” Lou answered her phone. “What’s up?”
Lou wandered slowly into the next room as she listened on her phone. Al tried to give her a bit of extra space but could still hear the conversation. He knew eavesdropping was rude, but he wanted to know how she spent her time away from him.
“Did you call Joe?”
Pause.
“Tell him if he can get in today, I’ll pay an extra ten percent, fifteen if he can finish by two.”
Pause.
“I know. Get the file ready to go to Kinko’s if he can’t do it.”
Pause.
“None?” Lou rubbed her forehead with her free hand.
Pause.
“I’ll think of something.”
Pause.
“Okay.” Lou stopped and Al noticed her looking at him. She blushed. He loved her blushes, how they started at her cheeks and spread outward until even her ears had turned pink.
“Good. More later. Bye.”
Al smiled, able to fill in the last part of the conversation. Lou shoved the phone back into her bra and caught up with him. He stood in front of a large white canvas with four black stenciled letters on it. F and O were on top, O and L were on the bottom.
“Sorry. Work. Never a dull moment,” Lou said.
“Everything okay?”
Lou chewed her lip. “I got an awful review, and it’s making things difficult. And the freaking copier broke at the worst possible time.” She looked up at the canvas and smiled. “There’s another painting I wouldn’t mind having. A reminder.”
“Sorry to hear that and I quite agree.” Al nodded.
Questions about Lou piled up in his head. Where did she work? Was her manager’s bad review really that bad? Why choose a barking-dog ringtone? Why did she keep her phone down her shirt and could he help answer it? For the first time in a long time, he found he wanted to know the answers to these questions and many more. He wanted to know her better, and he certainly wanted to make her laugh, or at least smile. Lou’s smile dimmed the sunlight. These questions inched toward the tip of his tongue.
“Remember when we first met?”
“Yeah?”
Lou looked curious about where his question was headed.
“Where were you taking that coconut cake?”
A frown line appeared on Lou’s forehead. Al wanted to take the question back.
“Never mind. Not my business.”
“No, it’s okay.” Lou held up a hand. “It was for my fiancé at the time. I meant to surprise him, but he surprised me by having an unexpected female guest. Ergo, no more fiancé.”
“Ouch. I’m sorry.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“It’s for the best. In retrospect, I think I was part of a business plan rather than the love of his life.” Lou studied the map on a nearby wall. “There’s one more thing you need to see; then let’s grab a snack outside.” She walked through another room to the very end of the hall, where a huge black cube stood. A dark curtain at the top of a few steps marked the entrance. A docent pointed to a basket of blue footies to wear over their shoes. After slipping the footies on, they walked up the steps and slipped around the curtain. Lou confidently stepped into the center of the room, but Al paused. Lou appeared to float among a billion stars. He looked down as he stepped forward. Even though he knew there was a solid surface, and could even see scuff marks on the plexiglass, his body kept waiting to fall into the ether. He stood in the middle of the small, dark room, inches from Lou. They were alone in space, together.
All six sides gave the illusion of endless stars. He looked up and down, enjoying the freaky sensation of being firmly planted on the ground while floating in the universe. Amazing how the mind could play tricks. Al set his hand on Lou’s shoulder to get her attention.
“Absolutely brilliant,” he said. When his hand touched her shoulder, Lou gave a little shudder and sucked in her breath. His stomach did a little flip at feeling her react to him. Or did she? Perhaps he just surprised her? Yes, that was it—just another trick of the mind. Lou stepped toward the door and Al let his hand return to his side.
“Ready for some snacks? I brought goodies.” And she turned and left the Infinity Chamber, almost as if she was eager to return to daylight. Al followed her back out, hungry for something.
• • • • •
Lou pulled the blanket and Sendik’s plastic bag from her trunk and walked to where Al sat on the grass. Her skin still zinged from his touch in the Infinity Chamber. It was exactly a month ago that she walked in on Devlin, so it didn’t seem quite right to already have the zings with someone new, but she couldn’t deny them. Al sat with his back to her, staring out over the gray waters of Lake Michigan, squinting into the sunlight. Seagulls swooped overhead, hoping for a spare scrap of bread or discarded lunch. She tossed the blanket to Al, breaking his reverie.
“Here. Can you spread that out?”
“Putting me to work now?”
“There are no free rides here. You need to earn your goodies.”
Al stood and snapped the blanket open, letting it parachute over the grass. They both climbed on, and Al watched as Lou started pulling goodies from the basket.
“And what are the delicious morsels?”
“Nothing fancy.”
Lou unwrapped a four-year-old cheddar and set it on a small cutting board with a knife. She pulled out a blue wine bottle and handed it to Al along with two plastic cups.
“Will you do the honors?” she asked.
Al looked down at the bottle and raised an eyebrow when he saw it was a cider, corked like champagne.
“I haven’t seen cider in a bottle like this since I was in France. You’ve got me excited now.”
He twisted off the metal wire and popped out the cork as Lou finished cutting crisp red apples, her fingers deftly slicing the fruit into even pieces. She pulled a crusty boule of bread from the bag and a roll of something wrapped in wax paper.
“What’s that?” Al said, pointing at the unknown item.
“That’s my favorite. It’s hand-rolled butter from a local dairy. I could eat it with a spoon.” Lou unrolled the butter and tore off a hunk of bread. Rather than use a knife, she scraped the bread across the butter and handed it to Al. He set aside the cider and took a bite.
“Wow,” Al said, still chewing. “That’s bloody amazing. There is a tang that’s brilliant with the creaminess. And on the chewy bread. Fantastic.”