two

Liam woke up a little after ten o'clock the next morning to a dull headache and the smell of coffee and bacon. Getting up from the couch he saw Natalie standing over the stove in her black dress and damp hair.

"What's all this?" he asked, walking over to her.

"Just a little breakfast," she answered with a smile. "Good morning. Coffee's ready if you want some."

"You call this a little breakfast?" Liam asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee. In addition to the bacon he smelled, she was making pancakes and appeared to be waiting for him to make eggs and toast.

"Hey, it beats oatmeal," Natalie replied. "How do you like your eggs?"

"Anyway you make them will be fine with me. Wait, did I have all the stuff to make this?"

Natalie laughed...a little too long. "Are you kidding me? Have you looked in your refrigerator lately? Beer, water, a couple Cokes, one egg, a brown jar I didn't want to get anywhere near, and a bottle of every condiment known to man. Your freezer is full of frozen pizzas, ice, and what appears to be a snowball. After my shower I saw your keys on the table and I felt like pancakes so I went to the grocery store on the corner."

"You know when I feel like pancakes I go to the diner on the corner. I've got big plans for that snowball, but I have no idea what jar you're talking about." Liam opened the refrigerator to take a look. "Hey, I've got orange juice, that wasn't on your little list."

"I bought that." Natalie shot back with a grin.

"Oh. Well, thanks. What the hell is in this jar?"

"I have no earthly idea and there was no way I was going to open the damn thing." Natalie answered. "I'm not even convinced the jar is supposed to be brown."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure this was apricot jam one of my neighbors gave me a couple years ago."

"A couple years ago?"

"I hate apricots, but she's a nice old woman and I felt bad telling her I didn't want it after she went to all the trouble of making it. I also felt bad throwing it away, so I just shoved it to the back of the fridge and forgot about it. I wouldn't have thought it could turn this color. Interesting," Liam mumbled as he examined the contents of the jar.

Natalie shuddered, "How can you be that fascinated by spoiled food?"

"Do you think if left alone long enough, it would revert back to its original color?"

"No, Liam, I think it'll just start moving."

"Really? That would actually be kind of cool."

"Boys," Natalie sighed. "Food's up, so throw that stuff out, scrub your hands with lye, and dig in."



"You shouldn't have gone to all this trouble," Liam said as they ate, "but I'm glad you did. You certainly know your way around the kitchen."

"It was the least I could do after you let me stay here and everything..." Natalie's voice trailed off.

"You know, Natty," Liam said, "you never told me what it is you do."

"Yes, I did; I told you last night. You've just forgotten."

"No," Liam insisted, "I asked and all you said was that you were in advertising. Then you asked me if I had heard anything about that British kid from the fourth grade who called everyone 'Yank' and talked about his mum all the time."

"Oh yeah, he was a little annoying, but I loved the accent." Natalie paused. "I work for an advertising firm that's pretty big for Seattle, but small potatoes compared to firms in New York or L.A. I started there as an intern while I was going to the art institute. When I graduated they offered me a job and the pay was good. I never planned on staying there as long as I have, that's why I dodged the question a bit last night. I sold out."

"What would you rather be doing?" Liam asked.

"Real art," she answered. "Advertising is all about image. The art we come up with isn't art, it's a product. I'd love to be able to support myself with my own sketches and paintings. I love working with oils. Failing that, photography, but I don't want to work at a studio in a strip mall snapping family photos and senior pictures."

"Too bad, I know a guy at Yuen Lui." She laughed that laugh he couldn't get enough of. "So, why not do it?"

"Do what?" she asked while taking a bite of her toast.

"Paint."

"Why don't I paint?" she asked as though he'd just suggested she try out for the Cleveland Browns. He nodded as he poured more orange juice. "Because I can't," she answered as though it made sense.

"What can't you do? If you're afraid of not having steady income, you could start by painting in your spare time. Spend your nights and weekends painting until you have enough to get them shown or put them on eBay, or whatever artists do now days."

"Liam, it's not that simple."

He shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because it's not." Natalie put a forkful of pancakes in her mouth to give her time to figure out what to say to him. "You can't just start painting and become an artist."

"Sounds like a better way of going about it than learning how to play the kazoo," Liam said with a bemused grin on his face. "Or trying to tame lions or run a marathon," he added as he used his toast to scoop up the last of his eggs.

"The kazoo?" Natalie shook her head and finished the last of her orange juice. "Liam, I can't paint."

For a few moments it was silent as they each finished their food and looked at each other. Then Liam pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. "Come here, I want to show you something," he said quietly, extending his hand.

"What?"

"Just come here."

She put her hand in his and let him pull her out of her chair and lead her across the room, toward the front door. "Are you showing me out?" she asked with a smile.

He didn't reply. Instead he opened the door to a small closet adjacent to the door of his apartment. She looked inside and turned to face him. He still said nothing. "Umm...nice coat?"

Liam pointed to the open closet door behind her. She turned and saw it. A watercolor painting of a young boy with dirty blond hair and green eyes. It was simple, made with a child's watercolor set and a thirteen-by-seventeen-inch sheet of butcher paper in a simple wooden frame. There were crease marks indicating it had once been folded in quarters. In the bottom right corner, in bright pink, were the initials "LP" surrounded by a heart. "You're not the only one who keeps things," he whispered in her ear.

"Oh, Liam," she said in the breathless voice women have that lets the men in their lives know they got the right thing this anniversary. "Wait," she said with her head tilted. She turned to face him. "Why is it hanging on the inside of the closet door?" That was said in the tone women use when they're trying to wait to get mad.

"Woah, now, give me a minute to explain," he said taking a few dramatic steps backwards and raising his hands with his palms facing her, "and I swear you'll think it's cute."

Natalie laughed, then quickly wiped the smile from her face, crossed her arms, and tried to look stern.

"You gave me that in sixth grade, on my last day at Highland," he started. "I was so angry at my parents for moving us to California in the middle of the school year and I was convinced I'd never see you again. My parents wanted to drive down the coast real slow, stopping at every point of interest, because they thought it would somehow make it fun for us. And because they wanted the movers to get there first and have everything unloaded and in the right rooms.

"That first night we all slept in sleeping bags on the floors of our new rooms. I'd never had my own room before and hated how quiet and hollow it was. I couldn't fall asleep. The room was empty except for my sleeping bag, pillow, and half a dozen boxes stacked in the corner. I dug through them until I found my copy of James and the Giant Peach. I'd lent it to you and you had given it back to me that last day at Highland. I climbed into my sleeping bag with it and started turning the pages in the dark when something fell out of it. I grabbed my flashlight since our electricity hadn't been turned on yet and saw a piece of paper. I unfolded it and found that." Liam pointed at the painting.

"I fell right asleep after that. In the morning the first thing I did was tape it to my wall. My parents, of course, thought it was cute, but my brother didn’t agree. Pat teased me mercilessly, as any good big brother would. Finally I folded it back up and tucked it inside James and the Giant Peach again, but I couldn't keep it there for long. I kept unfolding it and folding it so much I was afraid it would rip, plus I wanted it hanging somewhere, not hidden in a book. So I taped it to the inside of my closet door where Pat wouldn't see it, but where I could look at it anytime I wanted to. Every time we moved, the first thing I did was tape it to the inside of my bedroom closet door. When I first moved out on my own I put it on my bedroom wall, but it just didn't seem right after all those years. It's dumb, but I've always taped it to the inside of the closet door, and as you noticed the closet in my bedroom doesn't have doors. So," Liam pointed to the door, "there it hangs."

"Damn it," Natalie sighed, "you're right. That is cute." She gave his shoulder a little shove and smiled reluctantly.

"You did that when you were eleven years old, Natalie, and it's one of my most cherished belongings." Liam moved close to her, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked her dead in the eyes. "You can paint, and people will want what you create."