Somewhere Between Black and White (10 page)

“She has.”

A young woman was pushing an empty
stroller not far from where they sat, trying to juggle shopping bags and her
little boy’s hand. Apparently, he wasn’t agreeable to staying put in the
stroller, or staying put at all, because the boy escaped his mother’s grasp and
took off running in another direction. The bags slipped from her hand as well,
one of them spilling its contents as the mother raced after her son. Various
cosmetic bottles and jars rolled out onto the floor, right next to Christian’s
foot. He glanced down at the mess, then at the mother trying to catch up with
her runaway toddler, before turning back to Sophie with amusement. However, he
had absolutely no inclination to pick up the items that rested at his feet.

The woman came back frazzled, with the
boy in tow. Sophie got up to collect the spillage and started putting the
articles back into the bag. It seemed only then that it occurred to Christian
to do the same. He bent over, picking up a remaining jar of eye cream and then
handed it to Sophie. As if cued, his movements were almost mechanical. 

What an oddball,
Sophie thought.

“I am so sorry!” the woman gushed as she
tried to get her unwilling toddler back into the stroller.

“Don’t worry about it.” Sophie handed
the woman her bags. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a real sprinter in the
making.”

“Sadly, yes,” she answered as she took
her belongings. “Thank you so much! Again, I’m really sorry for the disruption,”
she added, peering over Sophie’s shoulder to address Christian as well. She
hurried off, the boy now howling like a banshee. 

Christian was an enigma. As they sat
back down, Sophie marveled at how he seemed to be so adept at charming Tara the
day she and Evie watched them through the window, and yet at times, seemed to
have absolutely no clue how to interact with people, which is what prompted her
question. “So, are you going to agree to a show for your drawings?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He dragged his palms
down his pant legs. “Tara is really pushing hard for one.”

“But, you don’t want to.”

“
Ahhh
. . . no, I don’t,” he replied,
almost painfully. 

Sophie wondered if he would break into a
sweat just thinking about it. “I understand. I think it’s one of the reasons I
didn’t follow through with the whole art thing. I was never good at playing the
game, you know?”

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “I can’t
stand having to talk about the work. I feel like I need to start making stuff
up, just to be accepted.”

“I get it,” Sophie said. “I nearly had a
nervous breakdown once during a critique in college. It went on for
two
hours
, because we had to pick apart every little detail of each person’s
work. At one point I just wanted to scream,
It’s a frickin’ flower! What’s
there to talk about?
”  

Christian chuckled.  

Sophie recalled leaving the critique so
she could regroup. She stood outside in the evening air, pacing, ready to tear
her hair out. Unable to let go of the frustration, she decided to take a jog
around the perimeter of the building, and Sophie was not one to resort to
physical activity for stress relief. 

The next day she switched her major to
Education.

“It’s like nothing can be taken at face
value,” Christian said. “Everything’s got to have some greater meaning.
Sometimes it does, but most of the time—no.  It is what it is.” He removed the
lid from his cup to crunch on some ice. “I hate it.”

“Yeah, but if you want people to see
your stuff, you gotta play along.”

He groaned, putting his hand to the back
of his neck. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Sure you can.”

Christian was dazed. “Your confidence in
me is . . . unusual.”

Sophie gave him a supportive smile.
“Christian, why won’t you take the medication?” 

Her question apparently blindsided him,
as he drew back into his seat. 

“You don’t have to answer—I know it’s a
personal question.” Her arms were crossed as she leaned forward on the table
and thoughtlessly ran her fingers up and down the sleeve of her jacket.

Christian’s mouth tightened. 

“Evie says you don’t like the way it
makes you feel . . . It doesn’t make you feel happy?” Sophie pressed. “Because
you actually seem like a happier person when you’re taking it, at least to me
anyway.”

His eyes turned glassy as he folded his
arms over his chest, turning the other way. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

“I don’t know why I won’t take it.” 

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t know, Sophie! Why don’t you?”
he snapped.

She just held his gaze. She wasn’t
letting this go.

There was a visible throbbing in his
neck and he covered his throat, as if his body betrayed him. With feigned
conviction, he replied in a tight voice. “I’m not sick.”

Sophie pressed her lips together, trying
to figure out what to say. It was all coming together now. It had nothing to do
with the effects of some medication, but had everything to do with admitting
weakness, at least in his eyes. And there was nothing she could say to change
it. 

“Okay,” she said. 

From the time Christian began having
difficulties five years ago, Sophie had her doubts that this “depression” was
genuine, though she never dared voice it to Evie. But now? Now she was
experiencing her first pangs of sympathy for him, and she didn’t like it. It
was just easier to paint him as this numbskull who happened to be married to
her sister.

 “I have a question for
you
now,”
Christian said. “Since you obviously had no issue asking me what you did.”

“Yes?” She was curious where this was
going.

“What was going on in the gallery? Your
reaction to my drawing.”

“Oh,
psh!
” Her scalp prickled.
“It was stupid. For some reason, it reminded me of this movie I once saw.”
Oh
my God! That was weak.

“What movie was that?”

She faked concentration, trying to
remember. “I’m . . . not . . . su-u-u-re. I think it was . . . It was something
with . . . Keanu Reeves?”

“Uh huh.” He wasn’t buying her line any
more than she bought his. “That’s all right. I know it’s a personal question.”

She narrowed her eyes in response, but
for the first time in a very long while, she felt a bit of an affinity for him.
“You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

He simply shrugged. 

“Okay, since I asked you such a personal
question,” she began, “I’m going to
tell
you something personal. And it
has to do with that picture.”

“You’re going to tell
me
something personal.
Me,
” he repeated.

“As a matter of fact, I am,” she
answered with a raise of her chin. “Who knows? Maybe this will be some kind of
therapeutic breakthrough for us.” 

There was a slight smile at her sarcasm. 

“And not only is this personal, but I’ve
not told anyone about it, either.”

“Well, now I’m really intrigued,”
Christian said.

“That image, the one with the field of
grass. I’ve seen it in my mind. It just pops in there, and it’s happened more
than once. Your drawing is the perfect representation of it. I mean
perfect
.”

“Seriously?” He leaned forward, sliding
his chair closer. “That’s pretty bizarre. But why was that upsetting to you?”

She slowly shook her head, trying to
find an explanation. “I wasn’t really
upset
, but it just triggered this
weird emotional response. I feel like it must be significant, but it’s unnerving
because I don’t know what it’s about. What inspired you to draw it anyway?”

“A song, actually.”

“Oh.” Her voice dropped. She half
expected him to say he’d had the same visions, that she wasn’t weird at all.
Although, hearing it from Christian wouldn’t be the strongest testament to
normalcy.

“You know that song ‘Fields of Gold’? It’s
very visual. I could always see it in my mind, and had to put it on paper.”

Sophie’s shoulders slumped. “So, I guess
I just chalk it up to a huge coincidence.”

“Maybe not.” Christian quirked an
eyebrow and smiled. “Maybe you should stop worrying and just go with it. If
it’s something important, you’ll figure it out.”

She felt a certain lightness inside, happy
that he had asked her here. However, there was a definite disturbance in the
universe. Whether this kinship continued was doubtful, but for today, in this
small window of time, she had a brother.

Thirteen

It was early December, and Evie had
complained repeatedly that she hadn’t met Sam yet, especially when he was
pretty much all Sophie talked about. That was about to change; Sam had invited
them both to a morning class at the community center that was a couple miles
from his house. 

“He didn’t give you a hint as to what
kind of class this was going to be?” Evie asked as Sophie drove them to the
center.

“No, and I don’t know why he’s being all
secretive about it. It’s kind of a weird request, I know, but at least you’ll
finally get to meet him. The rest of the family will get to meet him when I
have him over for Christmas dinner.”

“You need to get moving on this
relationship,” Evie urged. “I’m not getting any younger, and I’m still waiting
for you to give me a niece or nephew.” 

“Slow down there, little missy!” Sophie
said. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

“Poor guy. And he’s still around? Maybe
that should be your Christmas gift.”

“Shut up.” Sophie pulled into the
parking lot of the community center. It was eleven o’clock on a Saturday, and
there were all kinds of people, young and old, coming in and out of the
building. When they reached the entrance, Sam was waiting outside.

Sophie introduced Sam to her sister. “I’ve
heard an
awful
lot about you. It’s nice to finally meet you,” Evelyn
said.

“Same here,” he replied, shaking her
hand. “Sophie said you were lovely. She was right.”

“Thank you.” Evelyn blushed and turned
to Sophie. “Please tell me you’re keeping him.”

“I hope so.” Sophie gazed at him fondly.
“So what is this class we’re taking?”

Sam held the door open for them.
“Laughter yoga.”

“You’re kidding,” Sophie said. “Laughter
yoga? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“My Aunt Ruby teaches it.”

“Sounds kind of interesting.” Evie adjusted
the rubber band that held her ponytail. “The way you like comedies, Sophie, you
should be all over this.” They stood at the main desk as Sam paid the small fee
for the three of them.

“Well sure, who doesn’t like to laugh? But
something’s gotta
make
me laugh. You mean we just sit around and laugh.
About nothing?” Sophie didn’t get the point.

“You’ll see,” Sam said.

They walked through the long hallway
that led to the room where the class was scheduled to be held.  When they
reached their destination, the participants, most of them elderly women, were
all standing outside the door. Looking around, Sophie realized that the three
of them were the youngest people there.

A woman with short gray hair made her way
toward them. “You made it!” She gave Sam a hug and a kiss. She wore sweatpants
and a pink t-shirt that said
Laughter is the Language of the Soul
.

“Aunt Ruby, this is Sophie and her
sister, Evelyn.”

“Welcome!” Ruby embraced Evie before
moving on to Sophie. “So this is your Sophie,” she said, putting her hands on Sophie’s
shoulders. 

Sophie liked that, being referred to as
Sam’s.

“She’s just adorable, Sam. Both gorgeous
girls! Well, come on, doll babies. We’ve been relocated, so we have to grab
some chairs out of the smaller room next door and bring them in here.”

The students grabbed black folding
chairs which they carried into the empty room, then arranged into a big circle.
The room seemed large at first, but as more students began to filter in, it looked
as if there wouldn’t be enough space. 

At last it was time to begin. There were
two other men there besides Sam, both elderly gentlemen. On the other side of
the room was a woman, maybe in her forties, who was accompanied by three
teenagers, two girls and a boy.

“We have a very large class today. Wonderful!”
Ruby began. “Well, there are many, many benefits of laughter.” She leaned
forward in her seat, eyes wide with enthusiasm. There was something about her
that reminded Sophie of Betty White, although there was no physical
resemblance.

“Laughter reduces stress hormones,” Ruby
continued, “can help relieve pain, and can increase our immunity.” 

Sophie’s ears perked up when she heard
this bit of information. She would bring Evie here on a regular basis if it
might help her immune system.