Somewhere Between Black and White by Rosa Sophia, Shelly Hickman Page A

about-face where Christian
was concerned was because of the disagreement they’d had weeks before. Evie
knew there was something wrong with what they saw. They both did.
    Evelyn was silent as she drove the two
of them home, while Sophie continued to play with the straw in her cup,
jiggling it to try to loosen the last bit of ice on the bottom, making an
annoying squeaking sound. Evie shot her a look.
    “Sorry.” Sophie eyed the high rises as
they drove the I-15. “This town is unrecognizable from when we grew up, huh? I
don’t even know what half these buildings are anymore.”
    Evie stared straight ahead, keeping her
eyes on the road.
    “Evie,” Sophie began. “Has Christian
said anything to you about trying to get his work into a gallery?”
    “No.”
    “That could be all it was. Maybe he hasn’t
said anything because he didn’t want you to be disappointed if it didn’t work
out.”
    “Mmm-hmm.” Except for the fact that he was looking at that woman the same way he looks
at me. She appreciated the fact that Sophie tried to paint the whole thing
in a positive light, but it wasn’t working. “Sophie, I know you’re trying to
help, but I can’t talk about it right now. I’m just trying to figure out what
I’m going to say to him.”
    ***
    Evie would likely pay for the three
glasses of wine she had once she got home, but she would deal with the lupus
flare if and when it happened. Now that she had some time to calm down and sit
with her thoughts, she wasn’t entirely convinced he was up to something. Then
again, it could simply be that she didn’t want to accept the possibility.
Between her illness and his, these last five years had been rough. How often
she wished she no longer had feelings for him, for as much as she hated to
admit it, the relationship was taking its toll on her. 
    She lay on the couch holding her wine
glass, her other arm stretched above her, when Christian came through the front
door.
    “Hey, gorgeous,” he said before noticing
the glass in her hand. When he made his way over, he sat on the coffee table
across from her and frowned. “What’s up?”
    She said nothing as she rubbed her head.
    He took the glass and set it on the
table. “Babe?”
    Evie breathed in deeply, hoping that her
voice wouldn’t quiver when she spoke. “I was at the mall shopping with Sophie
today, and we saw you in that gallery, talking with . . . someone.”
    His forehead scrunched a few seconds. “Tall
redhead?”
    She pressed her lips together and
covered her eyes.
    “Evie.” He gently pulled her hand from
her face and took it in his. “I don’t know what you thought you saw, but that’s
what’s called schmoozing. I didn’t want to say anything. Tara, the person you
saw, is the director of the gallery and an acquaintance of Mom’s. Mom convinced
her to agree to meet with me so I could show her my work, and possibly get it
in the gallery.”
    Evie needed to believe him, but didn’t
want to be taken for a fool. “If that was schmoozing, then what were the
terms?”
    “Seriously?”
    She sat up on the sofa. “You’ve told me
that I need to leave, so maybe you’re just trying to make it easier.”
    “I can’t believe this.” Exasperated, Christian
stood and began pacing. “I thought you would be happy that I’ve actually taken some
steps to do something.”
    “It didn’t look right.”
    Christian shook his head as if she were
out of her mind, making her all the more apprehensive. “Evie, I wouldn’t do
that,” he said, looking her in the eye. “I already bring you enough grief.”
    “Stop saying that! If you’re the one who
wants to leave, then leave.” She picked up her glass and leaned sideways
against the back of the sofa, drawing her knees to her chest.
    Christian sighed. He sat down behind
her, rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Do
you honestly think anyone else is going to be crazy enough to put up with me?”
    “It seemed like you