The first time he set eyes on one of my pictures, it was as if the world stopped, every blade of grass, every flap of a bird’s wings. I was breathless, looking out the window while he turned his head, keeping his eyes on the canvas. I had left it there after spending the morning painting that stretch of woods that grew behind our house, trying to follow my father’s instructions.
When my legs would obey me, I went outside.
“Did you do this?” he asked me.
“Yeah.” I looked at him warily. “It sucks.”
“It’s perfect. It’s…so different.”
I could feel myself blushing as I crossed my arms. “You’re kissing up to me.”
“I’m not either, damn it. Why would you think that?”
I hesitated, not taking my eyes off him.
“Because my father asked me to paint them,” I said, pointing at the trees, “and I did this, and they don’t look anything like them. It started out right, but then…then…”
“Then you did your own thing.”
“You think?”
He nodded before smiling at me. “Keep doing that.”
Axel praised that canvas full of lines that even I had struggled to understand, though, in some way I couldn’t explain, they fit, molded to each other, worked. His dirty blond hair shook in the breeze, and I felt the need to come up with the perfect mixture that would give me that tone: a base of ochre with a little brown, shadows at the roots, the sunlight sprinkled on the lightest tips as they curled softly. Later I would focus on his skin, its tan concealing the few freckles on his nose, his eyes almost closed, his smile mischievous, astute, but at the same time unworried, there in his disorder, in himself…
13
_________
Axel
I thought i would feel fucking relieved the day Oliver came back to spend the last week of the month with his sister, but I hardly noticed the difference. That was how faint, almost airy, Leah’s passage through my home had been.
Over the following days, I kept up the habit of cooking. I don’t know why, but I was finding it relaxing. My life returned to what it always had been: waking up at dawn, coffee, beach, lunch, work, coffee number two, and a chill afternoon. I started walking around the house naked again, leaving the bathroom door open when I showered, playing loud music at nighttime, jerking off in the living room. The difference was I had my privacy, I could do all the things I couldn’t do in her presence, and I did, less because I wanted to than to mark my territory.
Friday I had managed to wrap up two commissions, so I decided to hit the waves for the afternoon, searching for them, gliding over them until I felt my muscles swell with the effort. It was still daytime when I returned home and found my brother sitting on the sofa and my six-year-old nephews careening through the living room. I raised an eyebrow, leaving behind a trail of water (why bother mopping when the water dries on its own? You just have to be patient). Justin walked over toward the kitchen.
“What made you think you could burst in without asking?”
“You gave me a key,” he reminded me.
“Yeah, for emergencies.”
“This is one. Besides, if you’d ever answer the damned phone instead of leaving it off for days at a time, I wouldn’t have had to come. I need your help.”
I grabbed a beer out of the fridge and passed him one too, but he refused it.
“Talk,” I said after the first sip.
“Today’s our anniversary.”
“And I should care because…?”
“I forgot about it. I don’t know where my head was. Emily’s been pissed off all day—you know how it is—slamming doors, giving me weird looks I don’t understand, that kind of thing. Finally I remembered what day it was, and fudge, man, now…”
“Don’t ever say fudge under this roof again.”
“It’s for the kids. They’re sponges, I swear.”
“Get to the point, Justin.”
“Can you watch them? Just for tonight.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. When did my house turn into a family inn? It’s not like I didn’t want to. I loved my nephews, I adored Leah, but not the responsibilities they brought with them. I had always done my own thing, and I liked being alone. It suited me. I wasn’t one of those people who felt the need to relate to people; I could go for weeks without seeing anyone and I wouldn’t miss it. But apparently, I was now doomed to experience the effects of life in common. I had only ever taken care of the twins once, and that led me to my next point:
“Why don’t you leave them with Mom and Dad?”
“Today’s the cake contest.”
I imagined my mother at the flea market, all the food, music, and hubbub out there practically in the suburbs, criticizing everyone’s desserts, probably making the other competitors cry with her nasty looks just so she could come in first. Byron Bay was famous for its many cafés, and all of them had their own house-made cakes. But no doubt about it, my family’s were the best.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” I agreed, looking at him with amusement. “But I hope your makeup sex is worth it.”
Justin punched me in the shoulder. “There won’t be any makeup.”
“Oh, so it’s going to be a savage hate fuck. You never cease to amaze me.”
“Can it. Emily doesn’t know I forgot and she never will. I booked a room in Ballina. I’m going to tell her it was a surprise and that’s why I haven’t said anything to her all day.”
I laughed, and he gave me a look that could kill.
“As far as the kids go, I put everything they could possibly need in a backpack along with a change of clothes. We’ll come pick them up tomorrow morning. Try and act like a normal person. Don’t let them stay up till dawn. Remember to keep your phone on.”
“You’re giving me a headache.”
“Thanks for this, Axel. I owe you one.”
My brother left after hugging and kissing his kids goodbye extravagantly, as if they were going off to war and he’d never see them again. When he closed the door, I frowned and they burst out laughing.
“Okay, boys, what do you feel like doing?”
Connor and Max smiled, revealing their gap teeth.
“Eat candy!”
“Paint with you!”
“Get into the hammock!”
“Best if we make a list.” I went to my desk, grabbed a piece of paper, and started to write down every stupid thing my nephews uttered. Nonsense, and of course most of it sounded like a blast. That was the best part of being an uncle: every time I saw them, all I had to do was have fun.
When night fell, we’d had our dinner of spaghetti and ketchup (Connor’s plate was more ketchup and spaghetti), I’d taken out the old video game console I kept in the closet to play with them, and they’d gotten my permission to swing around in the hammock for a while. I let them use some of my paints, and when I came back to the living room after washing the dishes, I found Max painting a tree on the wall next to the television. I shrugged, thinking I had more than enough paint and that I’d repair the disaster tomorrow. I got behind him and grabbed the hand with the brush in it.