knickers in
a twist over this, don't you? I'm sorry I batted my eyes and waved fresh-baked
cookies under Dmitri's nose so I could get my hands on some bathroom reading
material. And I'm sooo fucking sorry that I want to see you take it to the next
level because, egad , I believe in your abilities. Time to wear your
ovaries on the outside like a big girl, Kaykay. Just say the word, and I'll
take it to the next level. As a wedding gift to you. Put on your big girl underoos
and let's do this.”
In silence I thought about what she
offered. Pride aside, I don't know when she'd ever offer me her services with
so little shit-giving. I'd be a fool to spurn her generosity. It was as easy as
that. Equilibrium regained, I got off my ass and resumed painting. The wide
wash brush lurked in the jar of water. I used it to wet the silk before I
started applying the dye. Poppy red flowed from the sumi brush, giving color to
the roses I painted with a new found zen-like attitude. She waited with the
patience of a Shaolin monk.
“Okay. We'll do it.”
Her laugh tinkled through the air.
“Awesome! I knew you could be reasoned with. Dimi thought you were gonna tell
me where to shove that red pen and then a few other choice random acts of
buggery before my head imploded from the Wrath of Kaylis.”
“You promised me back in art school that
you'd never make a Star Trek reference within my earshot. For thirteen years
you kept it.”
“I couldn't help myself. And let's look
at it this way- Khan is only one syllable. 'Wrath of Bitch' would've been much
more worthy of getting pissy. You haven't said that you'll forgive your man. He
just wants to leg shackle himself before you get into any more trouble. It's a
strictly a preventative measure that includes tax breaks. ”
“I already forgave him. I just don't
like my computer's inner sanctum violated. It's like Vikings pillaging a
convent.”
“Don't lie to me Kaylis...I know you
gave him the cold shoulder.” As she spoke, she added a silver resist line from
a tiny squeeze bottle. It was a trick I taught her to incorporate her mistake
as another petal on an ever-growing rose. Her nose almost touched the fabric as
she intently stared down the barrel of the bottle in her intensely focused way.
Now I was pissed. Why the hell was he
telling her everything? “He told you I denied him? I didn't give him the cold
shoulder... I just told him 'not now', as in I was fucking irate at the time. I
gave him the opportunity to hit me up later. He didn't. Dmitri even went so far
as to sleep on the couch at his own behest.” It wasn't necessary to tell her I
missed his presence beside me.
She held up her hand to pause my tirade
while she used the blow dryer to dry her recent resist addition. When the line
was ready, she turned off the dryer, leveled a hard stare in my direction and
spoke. “It's a damn comfortable couch. Can't blame him to prefer comfort
instead of sleeping next to a harpy.”
“I may be many things, but harpy is not
one of them.” A line of blue and a stroke of yellow; my rose now had a shaded
stem.
“You worship that man, Kaylis. You adore
him. You overlook the little shit that would bug the hell out of me, and focus
on the big picture... that's admirable, to a point. The man isn't perfect, and
yes, he does things that piss you off behind your back... but he gives a damn
about you and your happiness.”
She resumed her painting, using a
gentler touch with less dye. “He wanted to help make your childhood ambition
come true. I can understand you getting pissy over him making me a copy without
your consent--I'd be a raging bitch too– but you need to get over yourself.
Want to marry him? Better get used to him pushing you to do what's best for ya,
whether you like it or not. Time to channel that ability to overlook irritating
shit for this issue you're having with him. Your bitchiness on occasion can be
construed as being a harpy. Just sayin'. You screech again, he's liable
a twist over this, don't you? I'm sorry I batted my eyes and waved fresh-baked
cookies under Dmitri's nose so I could get my hands on some bathroom reading
material. And I'm sooo fucking sorry that I want to see you take it to the next
level because, egad , I believe in your abilities. Time to wear your
ovaries on the outside like a big girl, Kaykay. Just say the word, and I'll
take it to the next level. As a wedding gift to you. Put on your big girl underoos
and let's do this.”
In silence I thought about what she
offered. Pride aside, I don't know when she'd ever offer me her services with
so little shit-giving. I'd be a fool to spurn her generosity. It was as easy as
that. Equilibrium regained, I got off my ass and resumed painting. The wide
wash brush lurked in the jar of water. I used it to wet the silk before I
started applying the dye. Poppy red flowed from the sumi brush, giving color to
the roses I painted with a new found zen-like attitude. She waited with the
patience of a Shaolin monk.
“Okay. We'll do it.”
Her laugh tinkled through the air.
“Awesome! I knew you could be reasoned with. Dimi thought you were gonna tell
me where to shove that red pen and then a few other choice random acts of
buggery before my head imploded from the Wrath of Kaylis.”
“You promised me back in art school that
you'd never make a Star Trek reference within my earshot. For thirteen years
you kept it.”
“I couldn't help myself. And let's look
at it this way- Khan is only one syllable. 'Wrath of Bitch' would've been much
more worthy of getting pissy. You haven't said that you'll forgive your man. He
just wants to leg shackle himself before you get into any more trouble. It's a
strictly a preventative measure that includes tax breaks. ”
“I already forgave him. I just don't
like my computer's inner sanctum violated. It's like Vikings pillaging a
convent.”
“Don't lie to me Kaylis...I know you
gave him the cold shoulder.” As she spoke, she added a silver resist line from
a tiny squeeze bottle. It was a trick I taught her to incorporate her mistake
as another petal on an ever-growing rose. Her nose almost touched the fabric as
she intently stared down the barrel of the bottle in her intensely focused way.
Now I was pissed. Why the hell was he
telling her everything? “He told you I denied him? I didn't give him the cold
shoulder... I just told him 'not now', as in I was fucking irate at the time. I
gave him the opportunity to hit me up later. He didn't. Dmitri even went so far
as to sleep on the couch at his own behest.” It wasn't necessary to tell her I
missed his presence beside me.
She held up her hand to pause my tirade
while she used the blow dryer to dry her recent resist addition. When the line
was ready, she turned off the dryer, leveled a hard stare in my direction and
spoke. “It's a damn comfortable couch. Can't blame him to prefer comfort
instead of sleeping next to a harpy.”
“I may be many things, but harpy is not
one of them.” A line of blue and a stroke of yellow; my rose now had a shaded
stem.
“You worship that man, Kaylis. You adore
him. You overlook the little shit that would bug the hell out of me, and focus
on the big picture... that's admirable, to a point. The man isn't perfect, and
yes, he does things that piss you off behind your back... but he gives a damn
about you and your happiness.”
She resumed her painting, using a
gentler touch with less dye. “He wanted to help make your childhood ambition
come true. I can understand you getting pissy over him making me a copy without
your consent--I'd be a raging bitch too– but you need to get over yourself.
Want to marry him? Better get used to him pushing you to do what's best for ya,
whether you like it or not. Time to channel that ability to overlook irritating
shit for this issue you're having with him. Your bitchiness on occasion can be
construed as being a harpy. Just sayin'. You screech again, he's liable
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