Page 10 of The Artist

Chapter4

Alexis woke the next morning, grumpy, as usual.She stretched her arms over her head.Even the cold air of the room didn’t bother her this morning.She scrambled from under the blankets, shoved her feet into her Bearpaw slippers, and put on her fleece robe over her flannel pajamas.They weren’t sexy, but they were warm.

She needed coffee before she felt human again.Padding out to the kitchen, she looked over at Peter, still asleep on the sofa.

He looked so handsome, relaxed in sleep.No reporters or gallery owners, herself included, hounding him for more paintings, more stories, just more.She wanted to push the hair back from his forehead where it had flopped in his sleep.Instead she went to the kitchen and started the coffee brewing.She waited impatiently for it to finish.

“Good morning.”Peter sat up on the sofa wearing only the sweatpants she’d given him yesterday.

“Morning.”She kept her eyes on the coffee pot willing it to brew faster.

“Not much of a talker in the morning, huh?”

“No.”

“Okaaay.”He stood up and headed to the bathroom.

By the time he’d returned she had the coffee in her hand and was thanking God for the magic of the coffee bean.

“Sorry.I’m not fit to be around in the mornings before coffee.”

“That’s all right.We all have demons of some kind.I’m not exactly nice to be around in the mornings either.You have more of that coffee or have you already drained the pot?”

“Very funny.”She opened the cupboard above the coffee maker and pulled out a cup, then filled it with the dark, rich, brew.“I have milk and sugar if you want it.”

“Black is good.”

“Ah, a man after my own heart.”She took another sip.“Mmmm.That’s the stuff.”

He chuckled.“You are pretty grumpy or at least not talkative in the morning.I thought I was bad, you are definitely worse.”

As she sipped more of the coffee she was getting excited about the day ahead.Her stomach was full of butterflies, but she was anxious to continue the painting from last night.They had gone to bed and left it to dry overnight.

She headed over to open the front door and look out.“It’s still snowing just as hard as it was yesterday.I would bet we got another eight inches or more last night.At this rate, they won’t be able to get to us until spring.”She murmured to herself.Then she gazed up at Peter.“How did you sleep?”After sitting at the table, she set down her cup and wrapped her hands around it to warm them.

“Surprisingly well.Your sofa is very comfortable.”

“I know.”She grinned.“I had to sleep there while I was waiting for my bed to be delivered.It’s a great couch.”

Peter nodded toward the canvas.“Are you ready to start the real painting today?”

She moved her hands to cover her stomach.“More than ready, if these dive bombers in my stomach are any indication.”

He shook his head and chuckled.“I can’t believe you’re nervous.Seriously, just think of me as your art teacher in school and just paint.I want you to paint a cabin in a meadow during a snowstorm.”Raising his arms, he looked around her cabin.“Oh, look we have a cabin in a snowstorm.But—” He raised his right index finger.“What you’ll paint is not a blizzard, just a gentle snow.I want to see the trees, boulders, and so forth on the canvas, not just white.”

Alexis swallowed hard.“Okay but what about the black canvas we painted last night?”

He waved a hand dismissively.“That’s for later.Get a new canvas for this painting.”

She stood and retrieved her palette, along with a new canvas.Then she squeezed some brown paint onto it, took a thin brush, and ran a line down one side of the canvas.She followed that with a press of white on one side of the brown, so that it looked like snow on a tree, not just a white line next to a brown one.

“You just drew a tree trunk.Why?No one will see it when you’re done.”

Her palms began to sweat.“Well, I need it there so I have something to put snow against and so you can see the branches.”

Peter broke into a grin and squeezed her shoulders.“That’s exactly right.Good job.”

Alexis beamed, feeling like she was ten feet tall.She couldn’t believe Peter Kincaid had said she did a good job over just a tree trunk.