04.

Her fingers hurry over the canvas. The viscous touch and the meditative motion starts to relax her. All the voices and sound around her begin to fade.

„Ms. Myers?“ The voice of a girl yanks her back and she moves her head looking into Rosie’s vivid brown eyes. „What’s your forname?“ Being used to these kind of questions she smiles and answers accordingly.
„That’s a beautiful name...Josephine. Can I call you Joe?“ „You want me to sound like a boy?“ Josie can’t help to snicker a little. The blond haired girl rolls her eyes. „Nooo, but it’s shorter. Wait, it’s not really a good idea. I already know someone with that name.“ Oh my, she thinks of Jo, namely Joanne!
„Rosie, look – I’m your teacher and it’s a sign of respect to call me with my last name. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like it. It’s just a grown up thing, you know?“ She smiles and nods. „Being polite.“

Returning to her painting she blows a loose strand of hair out off her face. As there are more kids demanding her help and feedback she quickly is distracted from her nagging thoughts again.

When the class is finished and kid after kid is collected by a parent the atelier gets more and more quiet. To her surprise Rosie still is there, letting her legs dangle from the desk she’s sitting on, waiting.
Josephine is still cleaning and sorting the little chaos her pupils left behind, though most of them really tried not to mess with the colours. Good luck it’s just watersoluble acrylic paint!

„Somebody late to pick you up?“
The little girl sighs and checks her pink watch. „It’s not like him. Dad, I mean.“
He must have recognized me!

„Do you want to call?“ She fetches her mobile.
„No, thanx. I have my own. Maybe I should text him.“

This very moment fast steps become audible in the hallway and then his frame becomes visible, spurting kind of into the atelier.
„Sorry for being late, baby!“ He kisses her hair and musters her. „Nice tribal.“ Rosie giggles. „What?!“
Instead of an answer he softly touches her cheek. „You should have a look into a mirror, princess.“
„Oh!“ Then she dashes over to the sink and checks her face in the reflecting rectangle. „Aww, that’s just a little paint, DUH!“ She returns to her father. „Your old shirt looks worse.“ „Don’t you want to wash it off?“ His daughter grins at him and then walks over to the not cleaned plastic cups, dipping a finger inside one. Going back she quickly applies some bright green onto his nose tip. „Hey!!“ Searching for a tissue in his pocket he tries to look dangerous.

Josephine observes the whole scene from a well dosed distance, keeping herself busy with stuffing some frames into a corner. Grabbing a pack of wet tissues she carries in her basket she crosses the room to stop in front of them.

„Try these.“ „Thanks!“
He scans the light blue box and grins broadly now. „Those are for babies.“
„Well, delicate skin. Won’t hurt your nose I suppose.“ Nor your ego...
Next she senses is him gently wiping along her chin, his hazel-spruce eyes making her knees feel like jelly. Her mouth turns dry.
„Apparently you all had a paint-ball match.“ Then he turns over to his daughter and cleans her face.
„Don’t forget your nose, Daddy! It’s biiiig!“
„Rosie, would you mind to wait in the car? You could terrorize Darren for a while. I’d like to have a few words with your teacher.“
The cheeky blonde pulls a grimace and then clings her fingers around the strap of her Hannah Montana backpack, moving to the door.
„Bye, Jose...Ms. Myers!“ Blinking a little she smiles. „I like you very much!“

Josie has the odd feeling she must be scarlet from head to toe meanwhile. A wellknown heat is flushing over her face. As much as Rosie’s words warm her heart, as awkward she feels under the circumstances.

„You have a lovely, smart daughter, Mr. Gahan.“
He ignores her words, fixing her view.
„Sodatith...with some agate.“
She’s perplexed and lets herself sink onto the edge of the nearby table.
„The colour of your eyes.“
Oh my god, he knows!
„Your voice is different though. Much more vibrancy and emotion.“
What does he want?!
„Rosie is a tough cookie. It means a bit of something to get close to her in such a short time.“ He still faces her straight and then offers his left hand.
„I’m David. Nice to finally meet you.“
„Josephine Myers.“ She feels his long, slender fingers clasping around hers. „Just tell me, you know. I feel silly here.“
„Uhm, even an anagram would be more creative. MJ...not just the alphabetical order in a class book.“
Sensing her tension he finally drops his pretense.
„We’re in the light here. The darkness lies somewhere else. Deeper under our skin. I’d like to explore it a little more – if you’re brave enough.“
„But we have faces now...“ Her voice trails off knowing she’s not really convincing.
„I’m glad we have.“ He takes her still paint flecked fingers and musters them intently. „It’s just the skin, the surface...the scars go way beyond all that.“ He looks up again and then lets her hand go, moving up from the spot next to her.
„I need to go now.“ A sad smile crosses his handsome face. „To answer your unspoken question yesterday: I will come back.“

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