You Before Me (23 page)

We've already been here for an hour
and haven't even made it to the second floor yet. Each painting
grabs my attention, begging me to look at the texture the brush
strokes made, to examine every piece, and to appreciate the beauty
each one offers. This place is much larger than the one back home.
I can't absorb everything in one day! But I'm trying. Who knows
when I'll be here again. None of the paintings captivate me quite
like the fire one, but I do find a few more favorites.

Some are landscapes, which turns out
to be Gabe's favorite kind. I love listening to him tell me bits of
information about either the paintings or the artists, but it's not
much. Just things that he's learned along the way. There are a few
particularly haunting paintings that I see and love
immediately.

One is set in a living room, quite
bare with a lack of items. There's one table and three people are
sitting at it. A man, a woman, and an elderly man. All of them are
wearing smiles, looking happy. But on the opposite side, there is a
girl in a long, poofy dress. She's looking longingly out the
window, and her stance allows me to see her face just enough to
know what she's feeling. The girl is sad, not nearly as happy as
the others seem to be. She's lonely. Her gaze outside makes me
think that if she had the chance, she would run away. My mind
starts to build a story for each of them. What is hidden beneath
the ordinary faces of adults to make the girl want to run from
them? Or maybe there is something on the other side that we can't
see, something to make her want to leave and give up her
family.

I stand for a long time looking at
that painting before Gabe drags me to see more. The next two I find
are drawings and are opposite copies of one another. They are set
up the same, but done with different colors. They both focus on a
couple in the center of the canvas. The couple is holding hands,
standing as if they were at the alter about to be married, only
they are dressed plainly and are alone. They are surrounded by a
semi-circle of trees and birds, butterflies, and even a doe are
mixed in the background as well.

The drawing on the left is done in
varying shades of black, gray, and white with bursts of color here
and there. One of the butterflies is drawn in perfect detail in
brown, blue, and yellow. A leaf in each one of the trees is a
bright green. A single piece of grass stands out near their feet.
The faces of the couple are done in color too, and they are smiling
with love. Next, I notice that a gold ring as been drawn on their
hands. It's easy to see on the woman's hand, but the color just is
noticeable on the man's left hand.

The other one is the complete
opposite. It has lots of colors with voids here and there. There
are black leaves randomly hanging in the trees. A patch of black
grass, a blackbird, a black butterfly, and then, there is the
couple's faces. A black oval. These two don't make sense to me, but
I have the nagging urge to figure them out.

Why does one highlight random places,
their rings, and their faces with color while the other is so
colorful, but has those dreary black voids? What was the artist
trying to say? What does it all mean? If there is a meaning behind
it. In the first one, simple, ordinary things are in color. A blade
of grass, the butterfly, leaves, the rings, and their faces. Why
those things? And with the other, the black takes up more space in
comparison to the color in the first. I think I like the one with
bursts of color than one with black tainting the overall
feel.

I see hope in the colors against the
bland background. There is hope in the couple's faces. With the
other, I feel like the blackness is going to grow until it sucks
away all the colors completely. There. I've figured it out. One
holds promise while the other is beginning to lose the
battle.

“What do you see, Ryan?” Gabe asks
quietly. We've been standing here too long, I know. I don't think I
can explain what I see though. It probably won't make a lot of
sense out loud.

“I'm not sure,” I lie before I move us
on to the next one.

The more I see, the more I want to see
another and then another and another. Honestly, I love them all. I
can appreciate some of the sculptures on display, but the
paintings, drawings, and photographs lure me in, hypnotizing me. I
soak it up, greedy for more. Hours pass as we walk through this
place.

Even after we leave and Gabe heads to
eat at a modern, cozy restaurant, I'm still thinking about the art,
replaying them in my mind, searching for an absolute favorite. One
that I can compare to the fire painting. It has to be the drawings.
I'm still mulling over those more than any of the
others.

“This weekend almost doesn't seem
real. Does it feel that way to you too?” I ask after our waiter
walks away with our orders.

“What do you mean?” Gabe tilts his
head, and I feel his fingers drawing patterns on my knee underneath
the table.

“It's been like the most laid-back
weekend ever. I guess that's why it feels that way. Or the calm
before the storm. Thanksgiving is in two weeks.” I frown at the
thought. Things haven't been peachy lately, which means the
holidays are going to suck. Maybe I'll just stay here this
year.

“Ryan.” He waits until I look up at
him, I didn't even realize I was staring at my glass. “We aren't
thinking about that stuff today. Tell me which painting was your
favorite,” he says to effectively change the subject.

And just like that my mind is lost in
all the art we saw today. For some reason, I don't want to tell him
that my favorites were the drawings, so our conversation turns into
idle chit-chat. Gabe starts telling me some story as we eat, but I
barely pay attention. Walking around that museum, seeing all the
art, felt so good. This is twice that I've loved coming to a place
like this, and I want to come back again and again.

What if every day could be like today?
Wouldn't it be so cool to be surrounded by art like that all the
time? That would be awesome. As we head back to the hotel, I wonder
what other art museums we have in the state. Thoughts like these
swirl around my mind as we go back to the hotel and then change for
the night.

Gabe retreats into the
bathroom, and I sit at the foot of the bed, still thinking.
Suddenly, everything clears, and it hits me. I
can
have days like this all the
time. I would love to have a job as a dealer, an art historian, or
an appraiser. Something in that area. That's what my major should
be. I can get an art degree and do any of those things.

“Ryan,” Gabe interrupts my thoughts,
sounding exasperated.

“What?” I question when he walks over
and sits next to me, placing a hand on my thigh.

He examines me carefully and says,
“I've been trying to get your attention. What are you thinking
about? Is everything okay? You've been pretty quiet for the past
few hours.”

My heart swells, feeling too large for
my chest. There are so many things that I want to tell him, and I'm
not sure where to start or if I should tell him everything that's
happening in my head right now. With a deep breath, the words flow
from my lips, my eyes focused on his.

“Gabe, you've somehow managed to come
in and completely change my life. You have reorganized, thrown
things away, and unearthed things I didn't even know I had. I found
my passion today, and you were the one to lead me to it. For the
first time in my life, something seriously appeals to me. It's all
thanks to you. I want to major in art. Realizing that, I feel at
peace almost, but then again, I feel off kilter. Life for me feels
calmer but chaotic at the same time. I don't know what to do about
it.”

The words I said about loving Gabe
repeat themselves once more. In reality, I probably shouldn't
actually do anything, but I feel like I should. Like something has
to be done to acknowledge what has happened here. I don't think
I've even cussed today. What the hell?

Whew. That felt good.

Gabe reaches over, takes my hand, and
silences my inner dialogue. “Nothing.”

“What?”

“You said that you don't know what to
do. Nothing. If you're happy, then nothing needs to be done. Leave
it alone and let it be.”

Nothing? Is that even
possible?

“Don't start thinking, Ryan,” he
playfully chides.

I grin, the sudden urge to kiss him
and tell him I love him overwhelms me. The words refuse to leave my
mouth, so I lean over to let my lips talk for me. Does Gabe feel
the atmospheric change around us too? Pulling away from our kiss, I
gaze at him. Everything seems to be falling into place for me. I
couldn't complain about my life in this exact moment even if I
wanted to do so.

“We haven't taken our bath yet, you
know,” I say.

Gabe smiles, wordlessly stands as he
takes my hand and leads me into the bathroom. He booked a bigger
room for just this reason. The white tub is large and round,
inviting two people to relax inside. While Gabe turns on the water,
allowing it to run over his fingers as he tests the temperature, I
grab my bottle from the sink. The tub starts filling with hot water
once Gabe is satisfied. I pour in a bunch of the bubble bath
liquid. Steam rises from the tub, and I wonder if it will be too
hot.

When it's halfway full, Gabe stands
upright and pulls his shirt off. My eyes travel over his torso, the
black chest hair standing out against his tan skin. Not to mention
the line of hair that disappears beneath his pajama pants. I lick
my lips intentionally, and Gabe laughs, a wide grin showing off his
teeth.

“Now, Gabe, how am I supposed to get
naked and get in a tub with you when you're laughing at
me?”

The jerk has the nerve to laugh
harder. “I'm sorry,” he lies once his laughter dies down. Gabe
steps over to me, lifting his hand to run his thumb over my lower
lip. “The way you looked when you ran your tongue over these? You
just seemed so turned on with a little skin showing and,” he starts
to chuckle, “I found it funny.”

I playfully push him away and turn off
the water before the tub gets too full. “You're a jackass.” Trying
my best to not look at him, I quickly undress, slowly stepping into
our bubble bath. The water is like two degrees away from being too
hot. Once I've lowered myself completely, I bring my knees to my
chest and finally look at Gabe.

Mmm. He's completely undressed now. I
could look at his body all day. Unfortunately for me, he steps in
behind me. With his legs on either side of me, he pulls me
backwards to rest against his chest. The quiet around us reminds me
that we don't have any music.

“We forgot the music,” I tell him as
he kisses the top of my shoulder.

“We don't need it, do we?”

“No.” And we don't. We can sit here in
total silence.

Gabe tucks my hair behind my ears, so
he can kiss my neck. With his lips against my skin, he murmurs,
“Are we taking a relaxing bubble bath?”

His lets his fingers drum from my
knees down my thighs. We've had sex three times since yesterday
already. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me or why I
answer the way I do.

“Yes, we are.”

Gabe lays his hands over my stomach,
not even going to try to change my mind. Like the last time, I lean
my head back on his shoulder and close my eyes. As we soak, I soon
get lost in my thoughts. This weekend seems too perfect. I'm here
with Gabe, we went to the art museum, and I found my passion. What
will my parents think of this? They weren't happy with a language
degree, so I doubt they'll be happy with an art degree. Will this
world as I'm currently experiencing it crash around me when I get
back home?

It's not like I can completely go
against my parents. Not right now anyway. I'm one hundred percent
dependent on their money. If they wanted, they could force me into
making a decision that they want just so they will keep paying for
everything. Maybe I should go get a job and start saving money
because I have a feeling that that day will come before I finish
college. And with Thanksgiving coming up, I really hope my parents
will find something else to do so I can stay here
instead.

“What are you thinking about?” Gabe's
voice interrupts my thoughts.

“A little bit of everything.
You?”

“I was wondering about something
important.”

“And that would be?” I question,
noticing that the water is slowly starting to chill, and the
bubbles are disappearing one by one.

“If you're willing, I'd like for you
to officially meet my mother. You didn't seem excited about going
home for Thanksgiving, so you could have dinner with us. If you
want.”

My stomach drops. I open
my eyes and sit up, focusing my attention on my knees. Is he
fucking crazy? Knowing I need to say something, I try to sound
calm. “You want me to meet your mother at Thanksgiving when your
entire family will be present?” Then what it means for him to ask
hits me. “
You
want
me
to
meet your
mother
?” I repeat with a small smile to celebrate Gabe's question
as I turn around to face him, my knees still tucked against my
chest.