The Astonishing Color of After(29)

One girl appeared over and over again, and she looked familiar. Something about her was different from the rest—something more sensual in the way she was positioned, torso twisting, hands curling gracefully. The pucker of her lips, the lowered gaze of the eyes. She was photographed the way da Vinci might have painted a lover.

Caro saw me looking. “That’s Cheslin.”

I thought I detected a bit of color in her cheeks. “Are you guys…?” I trailed off because maybe it was rude to ask.

“What?” she said with a certain sharpness.

“Dating?” I said hesitantly.

“Oh.” Her shoulders sloped down. “Yeah. Isn’t it obvious? I mean, my mom thinks I’m dating nine girls at the same time, but Cheslin and I have been together since the beginning of the summer.”

“Whoa,” I said. “That’s… a while.” I thought about Axel and Leanne, and tried to imagine them together that long. My stomach churned.

“I meant to say sorry about my mom,” Caro said. “I hope she didn’t make you feel uncomfortable. I came out to her pretty recently, and I think it was such a surprise that she’s been overcompensating.”

It took me a moment to realize she was talking about Mel’s jokes when they gave me a ride home. I wondered if it was my turn to apologize for my mother. For her being passed out on the floor. For causing Caro and Mel to wade knee-deep into a swamp of awkwardness. Was I supposed to try to explain what had happened, when I didn’t have a clue myself?

I took a breath and made myself smile. “No worries. Your mom seems really cool.”

Caro rolled her eyes. “Everyone says that. She’s the biggest weirdo nerd.”

“And what are we?” I gestured at the art and equipment all around us.

“Touché,” said Caro.

Relief settled around my shoulders. It didn’t seem like the subject of my mother was going to come up, thank god.

In the other room, we set everything up where the light was best. We spent the day painting the details swirling in the body of “Evil Lover,” as we had taken to calling him. Her. Them. Caro told me how she first found her papi’s original SLR camera. How she figured out she liked girls when she watched Titanic and couldn’t stop staring at Kate Winslet’s breasts. Then there were the moments of silence, when we mixed colors and focused on our brushstrokes.

We painted until the sun tucked itself away. I was mixing to get the perfect teal and caught myself squinting.

“Is there a lamp or something?” I asked.

Caro looked up. “We should probably stop, really. I have a light, but it makes all the colors look off. We can finish tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, though part of me was reluctant to leave. Painting had been meditative.

“You should totally stay for dinner, though,” she said. “My grandparents are over. They love meeting my friends.”

Friends. The word echoed in my skull and sent a ray of warmth into my chest. I hadn’t made a new friend in years.

“I’d love to,” I said.

“I’m warning you, though, they’re kind of gross.”

Gaelle and Charles Renard made me feel like I’d been a part of the family forever. They told me the story of how Mel kicked her boyfriend out two days before Caro was born.

“And we haven’t seen the bastard since,” said Gaelle with a wink, walking in from the kitchen bearing a casserole. “Good riddance.”

Mel shrugged and topped off her wine. “At least I didn’t marry the guy.”

While Grandma Renard sounded entirely American, Charles had a touch of a French accent. “And at least all your rolling around in the hay gave us the gift of Carolina.” The way he said her name, the R turned in the back of his throat, making the syllables sound special, like they belonged to a Hollywood actress in a black-and-white film.

Caro made a loud, drawn-out noise of pain.

Mel wrinkled her nose. “We never did it on the farm.”

“You sure smelled like it, though,” said Gaelle. She reached for Charles’s hand across the table, and the two of them chortled.

“Never do it on a farm,” said Charles in a mock low voice, leaning toward Caro like he was saying this in confidence. “No matter how beautiful and sexy your girl is.” There was extra emphasis on the word sexy.

“Papi,” Caro pleaded. She looked mortified.

“What are you so embarrassed about?” said Gaelle. “I loved a few women back in my day.”

“More than a few,” said Mel, “the way I heard it.”

Caro’s grandmother ignored this. “You love who you love. There’s no changing that. You do your loving whenever, wherever you wish—”

“Except on a farm,” Charles interjected.

“If you do do it on a farm,” said Gaelle, “just don’t tell your papi.”

“Chérie, you are the most terrible of them all,” said Charles to his wife.

Gaelle giggled and leaned in to rub her nose against his.

“Ugh,” said Caro.

“Seconded,” said Mel.

I ducked my head down for a bite of green beans to hide my smile.

“Leigh, what about your parents?” said Gaelle. “I’m always keen on a good love story.”