Never Doubt Me: Judge Me Not #2(32)

Chase doesn’t give us any details right away, but Will digs out our destination when we drive out of Ohio and into Pennsylvania.

“Where are we going?” Will asks as we travel on the turnpike.

“Pittsburgh,” Chase replies.

When we reach the city limits, we head into the downtown area. Chase informs us that there’s a festival of some sort going on. We park in a garage nestled among the tall buildings, then walk to where this event is taking place. Turns out, it’s some artsy event, complete with vendors selling their artsy wares and prominently displayed professional art of all genres everywhere.

Art is on display across a wide expanse that starts at the edge of where the buildings end and extending out along a piece of land—a park—that narrows to where three rivers converge.

“This is right up your alley,” I say to Chase as we walk past several stands all in a row.

Each one in this area appears to be selling sketches and paintings.

Will catches sight of a teenage girl with an easel in a clearing nearby. She’s drawing caricatures for passersby. He turns to us and says, “Hey, I’m going to check that out, okay?”

“Sure,” Chase replies, but not before Will is halfway to where the girl is set up.

Chase and I smile at each other. “Kids,” he says.

“I know, right?”

We stick close to where Will is speaking with the girl about her craft. Chase and I peruse the stands in the area. Most of the artwork is amazing, but I can’t help but think Chase’s art is better.

“You should do something like this,” I say when we step into one artist’s tented area.

Numerous sketches, mostly city scenes, line the walls, and some sit propped up in tiny easels on a table. Chase picks up a sketch that’s for sale. It’s of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. It’s similar to the one he drew for me, the one that hangs above his bed, the one we make love under all the time.

As he peers down at the sketch, I lean into his shoulder and truthfully say, “Yours is so much better.”

“Thank you,” Chase replies softly, and then he places the sketch back on the table from where he picked it up.

Chase asks the artist how one goes about securing a spot for an event like this. The man, an older gentleman with wild gray hair, is very helpful. He gives Chase a card and some other information printed out on a sheet of paper.

Will returns just as Chase is pocketing the information. He sees the card and printed form and says, “Thinking of selling some artwork, bro?”

“Yeah…” Chase blows out a breath. “…maybe.”

“You should,” Will says excitedly. “You’re good enough that I bet you’d pull down some fat stacks.”

“Fat stacks, eh?” Chase chuckles at his brother’s slang, not to mention his enthusiasm.

I agree with Will, though. Chase is extremely talented. The sketchbooks from his time in prison are a testament to his skill. Some of the artwork contained in those books is disturbing, but every last one is nothing short of amazing. Encouraging Chase to sell his sketches, however, might take some doing. He’s shy about his talent. And he’s not exactly pressed for money. He doesn’t make a whole lot working for the church, but his grandmother left him some cash in the bank, as well as all that property and the house.

“Chase,” I say to him, “it is something to consider.”

While we start over to the next artist’s stand, he quietly replies, “Maybe.”

I don’t press any further. Chase is stubborn, and if and when he decides to sell his artwork, it will be on his own terms. In any case, the rest of our afternoon in Pittsburgh goes well. We spend the whole day at the arts festival, where we have an incredible time, and then it’s back to Ohio that evening.

The next day, after church and a visit to Sarah’s grave, we embark on another outing.

Chase, Will, and I drive a little north of Harmony Creek, to the closest multiplex in the area. The plan is to catch a matinee movie. We do exactly that, and after the show, on the ride back home, we stop at a family restaurant along the highway to grab dinner.

It’s there in a booth, as we’re laughing, talking, and eating, that I realize I honestly feel like I am part of their family. I feel like I belong, like I’m a part of something. I may only be Chase’s girlfriend at the moment, but I feel like his wife in so many ways. And Will feels like my young brother-in-law. It makes me curious as to what life will be like when Chase and I start a family of our own. The thought of Chase as the father of my children fills me with the warmest, most contented brand of joy, making me wish we could have children sooner rather than later.

I know it’s probably too soon to be thinking these sorts of things, though. So I push my yearnings aside…for the time being.



Once the weekend is behind us, Monday arrives in full glory. And it feels, at first, as if the happy times are set to continue.

First, Will comes down to breakfast in an exceptionally good mood. He grabs a slice of toast as it pops up in the toaster and slides into the chair next to Chase.

“Good morning,” he says jovially to Chase, and then to me.

“You’re up early,” Chase comments as he leans back in his chair.

“Yeah, Cassie woke me up. She and her mom are back in Vegas.”