Color me Kelly part 3
For thorny thursdays
Joseph L. Wiess Kathrine Elaine The Brothers Krynn A.C. Cargill, AuthoJosh TatterJillian SpiridonJoyceBri HeroMaKenna GraceYakubian ApeMichael P. MarpaungMichael S. AtkinsonMonte St AubynLizzy CoE.A. ColquittCarl BrownDonn Harper Jr.Amanda V ShaneV Kelly-SibleyIsha Jainmaryh10000Jasini KCTJ PattonJason LinkThe ChroniclerVonRené VoR. H. SnowJon TSaumya SharmaGrace E. KelleyS.L. Linton
Hamish KavanaghLeanne ShawlerKyle ReeseBen LuricJE TaborIka WrightFaye BoamKait ZellerJenna B. NeeceJodie Beckford
Hanna DelaneyChris J. FranklinRachel LaDueSam(antha) M. Burns
Later that night Jen checked her phone for the hundredth time. There were no responses to any of the texts she’d sent to Kelly. Maybe she wasn’t interested and had blocked the unfamiliar number. Jen flipped through the sketch pad and verified the number again.
Had Kelly given her a real number?
This was stupid. She felt like a kid again waiting for an answer to validate she mattered. Boy’s tended to answer in their own sweet time. Most times when she texted a girl they at least answered fairly quickly. Resigned to wait for a response, Jen took time in the shower then put on PJs and slipped into bed. Tomorrow would be soon enough. If she hadn’t heard from Kelly by the end of the weekend, she’d inquire at Missy’s about her. After placing the phone on the bedside table to charge, she lay there staring at the ceiling. When the familiar ding came from her phone, she grabbed it as if it was a life-line and smiled.
Kelly had answered.
“Sorry, family dinner went long. You still awake?”
“Yes. Are you okay? Your brother seemed angry.” Jen watched as the three dots scrolled taking an eternity as if Kelly was writing a book.
“He was. But not for long. I’m fine. Probably. I’m not sure. Can we talk?”
“Do you feel up to it?”
The phone rang and Jen hit the answer button. “Kelly?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry it’s so late.” Her deep voice was sexy as hell.
Did Kelly still have a sore throat? Had her cold or whatever gotten worse?
“We can keep texting if you don’t feel like talking,” Jen said.
“No, I’m fine. Can we meet tomorrow in person?”
Jen was thrilled. “Sure, where?” All the doubts about Kelly’s interest melted away.
“Missy’s at around 6:00?”
“I’ll be there! Hey, we all have family drama. I can’t wait to hear how I’m not the only one with weird family dynamics. Oh, and I can keep quiet and listen.”
A deep chuckle came through the phone.
“I promise!” Jen added.
“I really liked talking, or not talking, as the case may be tonight,” Kelly explained. “You’re easy to communicate with.”
“We haven’t really gotten a chance to.”
“That’s why I called. I want to get to know you more. Maybe I can come see your sketches?” Kelly laughed. “That didn’t sound right.”
Jen’s heart did a flip flop and she giggled.
Kelly wanted to get to know her and Kelly was hot. For the first time in months, Jen felt hopeful. Maybe even inspired. Was she as nervous as Jen? Realizing neither of them had said anything for a while, she spoke into the phone. “We aren’t really talking now are we?” Jen stifled another giggle. She didn’t want to seem silly.
“Not really. We can tomorrow at six?”
“Sure, we can. I’ll be there with bells on.”
The low chuckle happened again. “That doesn’t surprise me,” Kelly said. “For some reason I expect nothing less.”
More silence followed.
“Goodnight, Jen,” Kelly whispered.
Jen didn’t want this to end. It had only just started. “Night, Kelly,” she whispered back.
The screen went dark.
Jen got the feeling that Kelly really did like her. Anxiousness, curiosity, and hope overwhelmed her. She tossed and turned a few minutes. No way could she sleep.
She sat up and looked around. Living in her mom’s basement Jen had put together her own space. The corner where her art supplies were, beckoned to her. The empty canvas on the easel seemed to call to her. She could let out her feelings. Jen threw back the covers and went to her studio. She picked up a brush and a tube of kelly-green paint and lost herself in expression.
By the time Jen put aside her brushes and palate knife, it was early Saturday a.m. The canvas sported a stylish leopard-print border with splashes of kelly-green peeking through. Brown blobs in the corners made Jen smile as she thought of the crude hammer Kelly had drawn on the sketchpad. She wasn’t finished with this piece but satisfied with her start. She needed to know a lot more about her subject matter. She wiped at her eyes, but sleep couldn’t elude her any longer. After cleaning up and plopping on her daybed she looked forward to a few good Z’s.
Jen dreamt of vacation in the tropics with Kelly. Kelly was clad in a leopard skin-tight bikini and lying on a chaise on the beach. Jen enjoyed the view as she sauntered closer to the empty chair waiting beside her. The sunset was only beginning and the two of them would enjoy this moment and memory forever. Kelly looked up at her as she approached and smiled.
Then a voice from somewhere else startled her.
“Oh, Jenn iffferr?” Her mother’s drawn-out call woke her from the sweet fantasy. “Are you going to sleep all day?”
“What time is it?” Jen shouted back.
“Three forty-five in the afternoon, sleepy head.” Came from her mom as she descended into her apartment in the basement.
That meant only one thing.
Mom wanted answers about why Jen was still sleeping.
“You were up late.”
Her mom never asked what she did, but Jen knew she was fishing for information. Her mother’s gaze stopped on the canvas in the corner. “Oh, you’re painting again. That’s nice, in a sort of abstract way.”
Even though it was a compliment, Jen felt her mother didn’t appreciate her art. She wasn’t certain her mother appreciated her. Sure she’d let Jen come home after college to get her footing and had given her a place to live. Jen loved her mother, but they were not close, didn’t share dreams and feelings. Jen got up and put on her fluffy slippers to join her in front of the painting.
“An art degree might not be what I envisioned for you, but you seem to be doing well at the agency. Is this for a marketing campaign?”
“No, Mom.” Jen went back to the daybed. She shook her head, straightened the covers and tucked them under her pillow as she made the bed. “It’s for me.”
Her mother studied the piece then added, “Okay. Am I’missing a part of the story?”
“I met someone yesterday. Someone who inspired me.”
“Really?” Now she sounded interested. “What’s his name?”
Oh joy, her mother was faulting to cis-norms again.
“Mom, her name is Kelly.”
Her mother’s shoulders tense with the answer. “Well, how am I supposed to know? Jane said you’re Bi so it could have been a man.”
It was wishful thinking on her part. Like everything she wanted for Jen was. The perfect relationship, the perfect job, and her idea of the perfect life.
How many times would Jen have to explain this? “We may end up being friends. Who knows?”
Her mother shrugged. “Right, who knows?”
“I’m meeting her later at Missy-B’s.” Jen hurried to the alcove where her clothes hung in a make-shift roller-closet and began rifling through hangers. “Which reminds me, I have got to find the perfect thing to wear.” She pushed apart the crowded clothes. “Want to help me?”she asked. When she turned around she, mom had vanished. “Of course not.” She pulled several of the hangers off the rod with a yank. “But if I had said HIS name was Kelly, I bet she’d have been all over it.”
Jen heard the tale-tell sound of the back door slam, and knew her mom was outside smoking a cigarette.
Jillian Peterson had a habit of escaping anything she didn’t care to deal with. And she refused to deal with the queer world, even if Jen was a part of it.