Painting by The Numbers

He chuckled. "My bad. Seriously, we'd love to have you."

"I feel like I'm at your house every day. Honestly? I sort of want to spend some time with Mom. This hit me hard, Nicky. I mean, it wasn't the biggest thing in the world, but it was my first radio interview. It turned into a nightmare. I think I'm just gonna go home, see Mom, and maybe we'll hop online and watch Netflix or something."

He paused for a second. "Listen, I may have joked around a little bit, but I really am sorry. These guys were assholes. You deserve a hell of a lot better. Maybe you should give Angie a call."

I thought about it. "I get what you're saying, but no. I'm not going to use my friends for something like this. It just doesn't feel right. She's a journalist that climbed up and through the sports genre. To ask her to smack around some third-rate radio hosts, nah. Can't do it. She's bigger than that. She's better than that."

"So are you, Ronnie. So are you. This may have been the first radio interview, but there will be a lot more and not all of them will be like this. Say hi to your mom for me."

I had been too nervous to tell many people about the interview. Now I was grateful for those nerves. Thankfully, Mom was home when I drove over. It felt a little weird knocking on the door of the house you grew up in. I always gave a light knock as I opened the door, then walked in.

"Mom! You around?"

It took her a moment, but Mom came upstairs carrying a basket of laundry. Hands full, she blew some hair from her eyes and smiled.

"There she is. How are you, honey?"

"Not so great. Are you free? I thought maybe we could do some shopping or just watch a movie. Maybe you can make those tuna fish sandwiches?"

I don't know if it was that psychic thing that moms have, but she put the basket on the couch, walked over and hugged me.

"Ronnie, what's wrong?

"Just... Just a bad morning. I'll get over it."

She stepped back, but kept her hands on my shoulders. "When you want to talk about it, I'm here. Two tuna fish sandwiches with potato chips and lemonade. Come on, you can dice up the celery. Do you remember me making this the first time you met Nicholas?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. A little, I think. I was sort of nervous."

Mom raised an eyebrow. "Sort of?"

I laughed. "Okay, I was a lot nervous. The world-famous athlete brother who I had never met before was coming over, and I hadn't slept for about two days."

"And look at you now. Healthy as a horse. You want cheese and crackers?"

"Nah. Chips and tuna sandwiches will be fine. Dad's working?"

"Yeah, he'll be home about six."

Mom and I made short work of fixing the sandwiches and sat at the table while talking.

"You know, it sort of feels like one of those days where Nicky was coming over, so you made sure that Dad wasn't around."

She nodded as she chewed. "So, where did you want to go shopping?"

Was she changing the topic? "Is everything okay with you and Dad?"

"Of course. He's doing everything I asked. Things are fine. He sees his therapist, and I guess they're making progress. It's just... I guess I have to trust in the process. I can't wrap my head around how he could've done that to Lori and Nicky."

"Me neither."

Mom put her sandwich down. "When the two of you have your breakfasts, does he talk about it?"

"Not unless I bring it up."

She sighed and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Well, that's enough about him. Seriously, where do you want to go shopping?"

"I don't care. What are you thinking?"

"I'm looking for a new ottoman and an easy chair. Want to head over to Stedman's?"

While we were driving, I got a text from Calvin.

Are we on for today?

I had forgotten we were gonna do something. Shit.

"Mom, can you show me again how to make that spaghetti sauce?"

"Of course. Why don't you come over Sunday, and we'll make a big batch. We'll have dinner, and I could send you home with some."

"Um, no. I sort of meant today. Like, the next couple of hours."

She side-eyed me and raised an eyebrow. "Any reason for the rush?"

"I may be cooking for a guy tonight."

"Cooking for a guy. Got it. Stedman's is out, Whole Foods is in. We'll double the ingredients and make a batch at our place. You can take the other half of the ingredients home and make it again at your place. So, tell me about this boy."

I wasn't going to match Calvin's aunt. It was clear that woman knew how to cook. But if I could make my mom's pasta sauce, I'd be doing okay. Where I could really impress him was the desserts. I'd spent more than enough time in the back of Cat's boutique to know how to make a killer ganache or truffle.

I texted him back and asked him to meet me at my house at five and sent him the address. He replied quickly.

Okay. There's a bus that stops nearby. See you then.

Mom and I stopped at Whole Foods. As always, the prices were insane. Thankfully, Dad makes a very good living, and my account was flush. We finished up shopping and headed home. Mom went through everything with me and when we were done, she insisted on me recording her on my phone as she gave me an audio rundown step-by-step.

"Thanks, Mom. Love you."

"That's it? I don't think so. Do I even get to see a picture of this boy?"

I had dozens on my phone, so I pulled one up.

"Oh! He's quite buff."

I smiled to myself. Maybe I shouldn't have shown her one of Calvin in his singlet.

"I guess. He's one of the best wrestlers in the world. It probably comes with the territory."

Mom was still staring at the picture, and she was almost salivating. "Ha. That's a very nice territory."

I laughed and took my phone back.

"Thanks again. I'll let you know how it goes."

Leaving with ingredients in tow, I headed over to Cat's. She wasn't in, but her assistant was. I helped her with a few customers and then disappeared into the back. I made a simple vanilla sheet cake using the metal rings to cut out circular personal cakes, covered them in a ganache and slid them into the fridge while I worked on some truffles. Just as I was packing everything up to leave, Cat walked in.

"It looks like I've got a chocolate thief. You have everything you need, Ronnie?"

I rolled my eyes. "If there's a balance sheet between us, do you really think it's tilted in your favor?"

She raised her hands in surrender and laughed. "I'm not even going to ask. Enjoy your... Well, whatever you made."

Grabbing a bag. I loaded up the cakes and the truffles. "Thanks."

"Sure. Tell Calvin I said hi."

I stood there open-mouthed for a second. "You spoke to Mom?"

She nodded. "My sister wasn't going to call me as soon as she saw the pic of Studly McStudenstern?"

As I rushed home to start cooking, I realized that I hadn't thought about the interview in hours.

When I got to my place, I quickly started prepping and cooking. I had my Echo in the background playing music as I sautéed the ground sausage, onions and garlic. There was an open bottle of wine, but I was careful and just took a sip here and there. I was determined not to mess this up. By the time Calvin arrived, my home smelled amazing. I had been a little concerned about the distance from the bus stop, but he looked fine. Calvin had a bottle of wine and a bunch of flowers.

"This is where you live? It is very nice. Do you do your work here or do you rent a studio somewhere?"

"Come on in, I'll show you. You look good, by the way."

Embarrassed, he shrugged. "I look like me."

I showed him around my apartment, and he was fascinated by the studio.

"The large windows, that helps you with natural light?"

"It does. Especially in the mornings."

He walked over to some canvases stacked against the wall. "May I?"

"Sure. I'll put the water on to boil."

I answered his questions as I filled up the pot and threw in a splash of oil. Mom insisted it was a waste of the oil. It wasn't going to help the pasta from sticking. Oil and water don't mix, so it just sat there on the top. I wasn't so sure. I'd seen a chef do it on TV when I was young and always threw a little bit in. I also threw in some salt, which supposedly did the same thing. No harm, no foul. Melting down some butter and adding in minced garlic, I prepped the garlic bread.

"Hey, I really like this one."

"Which one?"

"The man on the ship? He's staring out to the sea."

"It was an experiment. If you like it, take it."

"Really?"

"Really."

We ate the pasta, and he complimented the sauce. I didn't tell him about the crash course from Mom.

"You had an interview?"

I sighed. "Yeah, I did."

As I told Calvin about it, he seemed to pull into himself. Sitting there and listening, his eyes tracked mine and he was silent. It was a little intimidating, especially when I noticed how he was squeezing the table.

We wound up on the couch after eating and were soon ignoring whatever the heck it was that we were watching on Netflix. He had pulled me over, and I was sitting sideways on his lap. Kissing led to fondling, and he soon had his hand under my shirt. We were moving just a little too fast. I gently took his hand and held it in place while I leaned back.

"Let's leave something for after dessert."

He raved about the cakes and the truffles and that made me happy until I realized that he'd soon figure out I was a one-trick pony. I was going to have to have Cat show me how to make something else. Soon enough, we were back on the couch.

We didn't bother with Netflix this time. He had leaned over me, and I was on my back as he kissed my neck and made his way up to my earlobes. Eventually, he sat up and pulled off his shirt. Hour after hour of working out really paid off. I licked my lower lip as I watched the muscles shift and move along his chest and arms. Soon, my shirt followed his to the floor. When he fumbled a bit with my bra, I unsnapped it for him.

I almost laughed when I saw how he looked at me like a kid in a candy store. I squirmed as his mouth found my nipple. Reaching between his legs, I could feel that he was already hard. Reaching down, he quickly unbuttoned his jeans.

With a quick shuffle of his hips, Calvin's pants were below his butt. He lowered himself down on me again, nibbled on my ear, then took my lower lip between his teeth. As we kissed, I reached down and took him in my hand. After stroking him twice, he came.

Calvin quickly got off of me and sat on the couch. He looked everywhere but at me.

"I am... This is so embarrassing. You're so beautiful, and I wanted to... I'm an idiot."

Sitting up, I kissed his cheek. "No. Not at all. We can try again in a few minutes. It happens all the time. I take it as a compliment. Really. It's fine."

I had no idea if it actually happened all the time. Before Calvin, I'd been with a grand total of two men. Going to the bathroom, I washed my hands and soaked a hand towel that I used to help clean him up. He was still having difficulty looking at me.

"I need to get going. Do you have any water bottles?"

He was leaving? Right then?

"Yeah. Sure. Can I drive you back to campus?"

"No, I'd like to take the bus. It gives me time to think."

"Okay. Sure. Can I send you back with some leftovers? You want to wait for the painting for another day?"

"Yes, please. Do you have a plastic fork?"

That had been one of the most frustrating nights I could remember. There was no way he was a virgin, right? I was starting a new tradition of long showers where I took care of myself because of Calvin.

I woke to Nicky calling me again and again. Sleepily grabbing my phone, I was wondering why he was calling me that early.

"What?"

"Have you been online this morning? Do you have Google alerts set up for your name?"

I couldn't make any sense of what he was saying. "What?"

"Ronnie, wake up. I'm sending you a link. Check it out. Don't go back to sleep."

I clicked the link. It was to a sports website.

"Olympic Hopeful Threatens Shock Jock"

Calvin must have taken a late-night bus to Cleveland. His uncle had to drive there and bail him out of jail.

Shit.

"Ronnie? You there?"

It took me a second to answer. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Did you see the article?"

"Staring at it right now. Do you know how much his uncle had to pay for the bail? Do you think I should send him the money? I don't know, they seem to be doing okay. Middle class, I guess, but if this is going to hurt them, maybe I should try to help?"

Nick's voice was serious, but tinged with concern. "The article was wrong. I made some phone calls. He got a DAT. I think it was for aggravated menacing. Not good, but not as bad as it could be. Here's the thing, I'm guessing the hosts show up at the studio at about four-thirty. The show goes live at five thirty. So, they show up at four thirty, they have a confrontation with Calvin, cops come down, a deal for a quick release is made, and the info is already online? Someone wants this out there. That was way too quick to be an accident."

I stifled a yawn and wished that everything would just slow down. "Wait. DAT? What's that?"

"Desk Appearance Ticket. You don't get arrested, but have to come back and appear before a judge. I'm not a lawyer, but it seems off. Aggravated menacing or criminal menacing or whatever it is, it seems pretty serious. And they just let him walk away? On the other hand, people know who he is. I guess they're not afraid that an athlete who might be in the Olympics is just going to run off. Ronnie, did you know he was going down there?"

I shook my head in disdain. "Of course not. Why on earth would I want him to go there? I just want this thing to go away. He made it a hundred times worse."

"That makes sense. Listen, why don't you get up, take a shower and we'll meet for breakfast? We'll bounce some ideas around and figure out what you want to do."

"No, I'll figure something out. You've got to get to work."

He chuckled. "Since I own the business, I think the boss would be okay with it. What are you thinking, pancakes or omelets?"

I looked at the wall clock. "Omelets, I guess. Can you give me an hour?"

"Sure. How about Phillips on First?

"Okay. It might take me a little more than an hour."

"See you then."

I was about to get up and head to the bathroom when I decided to Google my name. There were five variants of "Artists' boyfriend threatens radio host."

Fuck my life.

Nick had a booth for us and was signing autographs for a couple of college-age kids. He was generous with his time and always thought he was at the tail-end of his fifteen minutes of fame. I had no idea how that worked when he was constantly on ESPN, had video games coming out with his face on the cover and was paid to represent clothing brands, bikes, and skateboards. What really got to me was how happy he was that extreme sports was growing more inclusive and bringing in more women. He was completely oblivious to girls hitting on him while asking for his autograph. I slid into the booth opposite him.

"Where are my nieces?"

"I'm not sure. They're with Mom. She said they were doing some consulting. She wanted to know what kids would like painted on the walls. I think she's taking them shopping and then out for lunch."

The waitress brought me a glass of water, and I quickly asked for some tea. We spoke as I looked over the menu.

"That's pretty great, what they're doing with foster kids. Lori's like the sweetest woman ever."

"Yeah. I'm glad she's doing it. I know she felt really guilty about how I was raised, but she's a great mom. How are you feeling?"

Raising my eyebrows, I looked up at him. "Not so great. I mean, what the hell was he thinking?"

Nicky shrugged. "I don't know, but you may want to cut him a little slack. He's young, full of testosterone, he likes you and probably thought he was helping. You should probably sit him down and explain reality. You have no idea what I went through with other guys when I was dating Angie. She had to explain to me that she had been dealing with drunken assholes hitting on her long before we even met."

"Exactly. If I need help dealing with my problems, I'll ask for it. And whatever help I want, if any, certainly won't be one of the best wrestlers in the world beating up a geriatric disc jockey."

Nicky was silent for a minute, and I looked up to see him smirking. "What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Come on, what?"

"Is a suplex real or is that a pro wrestling thing? I could just picture Calvin getting him in a power bomb or something and that horrible toupee flying off."

Shaking my head, I snickered. "Okay, still not what I want, but that's a funny image."

I ordered a western omelet, and we talked for another hour. When we were done, I sat in my car wondering what I should do next. I didn't want to talk to anyone about Calvin, so seeing Mom was out of the question. I was too keyed up to work, and going home and sketching or painting wasn't going to work. I decided to go see Lori and the girls.

I was disappointed when I arrived and saw the car parked on the street. I shouldn't have been surprised, not with the way my life had been going. I parked, went to the front door and knocked on the door.

Lori was whistling until she turned the corner and saw me on the other side of the screen door. "Veronica. I, I wasn't expecting you."

I waved off her discomfort. "I know he's here. Don't worry about it. I thought I could see you and the girls, and we could discuss the two bedrooms you wanted the murals for."

She frowned. "You're sure it's okay?"

"It's fine. It's going to happen. Mutual friends, small town, same employer. It's not like we're gonna be able to completely avoid each other. Can I come in?"

"Oh, honey, of course. Sorry. Come on in."

As we walked towards the kitchen, I could hear John's voice.

"Okay, so explain this to me again. She's a princess and she wears purple pants and there should be a dragon?"

Smiling, I rolled my eyes. They were sitting at the table and the girls were munching on Cheerios, raisins, and cheese, which looked disgusting. John had a sketchpad out and was taking notes. His back was to me.

"Princess Penelope Purplepants. A classic of children's literature. Don't you know anything?"

The girls called out my name and ran over. I picked them up and gave them each a kiss. Liz pushed one of her Cheerios into my forehead and giggled when it stuck. John turned with a smile. My heart skipped a beat, and I looked away, distracting myself with the girls.

"Who is this guy and why doesn't he know about princesses?"

Liz started explaining who John was and how he was a friend of their dad's. Lori chastised me because she had seen me with him a couple of days earlier.

"Okay, you got me. I know who John is. He's the guy that your grandma replaced me with."

John shook his head. "Nope. Not at all. Lori said that you were doing the two bedrooms and asked if I had thoughts about a playroom. I thought we should ask the experts on playing. I have some notes and sketches. Enough to put some stuff together. Why don't you guys hang out for a while and I'll head home and see what I can come up with. Ronnie, could you walk me to the car?"

John was talented in his own right. He had an excellent eye and was well-suited for his job. He could certainly pull off murals for children in a playroom. He wasn't going to make it as a mainstream artist, but he wasn't without talent. John waited until we were outside to start talking.

"First off, I'm really sorry, you didn't deserve that bullshit."

I shrugged." "Don't worry about it. You're not expected to know about every purple-panted princess."

He stopped walking and looked at me. "I meant the interview."

"I know. I was joking." There was a time when he would've known that.