"You really like it?" she asked, analyzing his expression. She had feared he might not like it; after all, not everyone enjoyed abstract art.
"I love it," he said with uncharacteristic enthusiasm.
He touched the stiff canvas of the painting, and it fell forward slightly, revealing another finished painting underneath. "What's this?"
"Oh, just something that I did for fun."
Her father gently held his painting as he looked at the canvas behind it. In a magnificent, almost blinding display of colors, little lines shot out from a large red heart.
"I like this. It looks like fireworks."
Kim laughed uncomfortably. "I started painting that one for Tony. It was going to be his Christmas present. I don't know why, but I finished it anyway." She shrugged. "I guess I thought it might help to exorcise him from my system."
"And did it?" he asked, looking at her intently.
She smiled sadly as she stepped away. "Come on, Dad," she said. "I'll help you upstairs."
"Can I get you anything, Dad? Are you comfortable?"
Kim's father looked at her as he flashed her a kind smile.
Since he had arrived home the day before, Kim had been scurrying around the house, making him breakfast and lunch, making sure his pillows were fluffed and his ice cubes solid. As much as he loved her, he didn't like having her fuss over him so. "I'm fine," he said. "Look, you don't have to stick around here with me all day. Go on out... get some fresh air. It'll be good for you." He paused. "Do your own thing, isn't that what they say?"
"Maybe twenty years ago," Kim said with a laugh.
"Well, go. I don't want you sitting at home all day, taking care of me."
"Well," she said, thinking. "I was going to run to the grocery store..."
"Then go."
Kim checked her watch. It was four o'clock. "Maybe I'll just run to the corner store..."
"Go," her father said. "And enjoy yourself."
"I'll do my best," Kim promised. Although she could think of more enjoyable things than running to the grocery store on Christmas Eve. Her instincts told her it was going to be packed. Still, she was making a traditional Christmas dinner tomorrow night, and she had realized a few minutes before that she had forgotten cranberry sauce,
"I'll be back in a flash," Kim said, grabbing her coat.
"Take your time," her father commanded.
"Aye, aye," Kim said, saluting him as she stepped outside.
Her father just laughed.
Kim walked down the crowded aisle, two bags of fresh cranberries stuffed under her arm. She let out a silent moan when she saw the long line wrapped around the single open register. She was standing at the end of the line, shifting her weight back and forth impatiently, when she saw someone she recognized. Someone she was not anxious to see. It was Jenny, the same woman who had been with Tony the morning after the hospital Christmas party. She had a cart full of groceries and a baby strapped into the child seat
As Jenny pushed her cart behind Kim, Kim grabbed a trashy magazine and pretended to immerse herself in an article.
After a few minutes Jenny said politely, "Excuse me. You're Dr. Risson's daughter, aren't you?"
Kim glanced up at her. "Oh, hi," she said, pretending that she had just this moment noticed her. "Yes. I'm Kim. And you're..." She paused, as if searching for her name.
"Jenny. Jenny Treeby. And this is Kirby. My son."
"Your son?" Kim inquired. He didn't look to be more than a year old.
Jenny nodded.
So she was a single mother. Kim gave her credit. She knew that couldn't be easy. "He's adorable," Kim said politely.
"Thank you. So, do you live around here?" Jenny in-, quired, making friendly chitchat as the line moved slowly forward.
"My dad does. I live in Florida, but I'm staying with him until he gets back on his feet. Although I'm considering moving here myself," Kim replied.
"Oh, there are a lot of nice neighborhoods around here. I live on Michigan Avenue. Off of State Circle."
Tony's neighborhood, Kim thought. How convenient for them both.
Jenny continued, "When my husband and I bought our house--"
Kim tilted her head. Husband? "You're married?" she interrupted.
Jenny nodded. "Yes."
"But... I thought, I thought you and Tony were..." Her voice drifted off.
Jenny just looked at her blankly.
"Seeing each other," Kim continued weakly.
"Tony Hoffman?" Jenny asked, repeating his name slowly. "You thought... ?" The woman squinted as though the idea had never occurred to her. She burst into laughter so loud that her child started to cry. "Oh my God, no. Although I guess I could see how you would think that. We come to the party together. We leave together. We show up for work the next morning."
Feeling like an idiot, Kim flashed her a half smile.
Jenny shook her head as she popped a pacifier into her son's mouth. "Tony lives next door to us. He and my husband are best friends. My husband didn't want to go to the party, and Tony's car was in the shop, so I took him. And I drove him to work the next day, too. But he just bought a new car, thank God. He's been going a little crazy lately, buying everything in sight."
"What do you mean?" Kim said, handing her cranberries to the cashier.
"He completely furnished his house. In about one hour. Can you imagine? What inspired him, I'll never know."
Kim paid for her cranberries. "It's been great talking to you, Jenny," she said, grabbing her brown bag. "Have a merry Christmas."