Between Two Lungs

Mae stared at the large canvas that stood in front of her, tilting her head slightly to the left. She had kept the canvas in the trunk of Marc's SUV, not wanting to bring it inside until she absolutely needed to. She glanced out the window at the snow that kept tumbling down from the sky, trying to capture its movements by streaking paint across the blank surface with her fingers.

It was Christmas day and Linda was getting dinner ready. The Staal family always celebrated with a turkey dinner on Christmas with just the six of them and then with their extended family at Grandma Staal's house on Boxing Day. Even though Mae's door was closed, she could smell the delicious aroma from between the cracks. It made her stomach growl loudly.

She took her acrylic paints since they dried much faster than the oils and layered them one over another, scraping away at parts with a palette knife to create the effect that she wanted. Her bangs fell in front of her eyes a few times, but she couldn't move them away without getting paint in her hair. She opted to let them block part of her vision as her hands moved in a frenzy over the canvas.

There was a knock at the door.

"Don't come in!" she called out. "I'm kind of working on something right now!"

"What is it?" came Marc's voice.

"A surprise," she replied. "Stay outside. You're not allowed to see."

"Okay," Marc responded. She could practically see him shrugging his shoulders in semi-indifference.

Mae went back to her painting only to be interrupted fifteen minutes later by another set of hands knocking on her door.

"Don't come in!" she repeated. "Working on something!"

"Just wanted to let you know that dinner's in about half an hour," Jordan said. "Can I ask what you're working on?"

"A surprise," she repeated again. "You'll see it soon enough. I'll be downstairs once I've finished."

"Will you be finished in half an hour?" he asked. "My mom's really excited about this dinner."

"Absolutely," she answered. "Don't worry, I'll be on time."

"Alright," he said before she heard his footsteps padding down the hallway and then down the stairs.

Mae kept working on her painting, her tongue occasionally poking out as she stretched to reach the top corners of the five-foot canvas. Soon, she was done.

"Thank God for fast-drying acrylics," she sighed to herself, leaving the room to quickly get washed up for dinner. She made a beeline for the bathroom and washed the dried paint from her hands (and face) and then ran back to her room to change into something more presentable.

She came out of her room in the nicest thing that she owned, which already wasn't that extravagant. It was a button-up white three-quarter sleeve blouse and a black pencil skirt that came just past the knees and a pair of red flats. She took one last glance at the drying painting and then went downstairs to meet the others at the dinner table.

Even though no one else was coming over, everyone was dressed nicely. The boys wore button-up shirts, as did Henry, matched with dress pants, and Linda wore a simple yet elegant dark red blouse and straight-legged black pinstriped pants. She spied Mae coming down the stairs and smiled at her.

"Honey, you look absolutely gorgeous!" she cooed. "Kind of makes me wish that I had a daughter."

"You were close enough to dressing Jay up in a dress, remember?" Marc smirked as Jared tucked his chin closer to his chest in embarrassment, hiding his reddening face from view.

"Shut up, Marc."

Marc shoved his brother playfully and walked over to Mae, kissing her on the forehead. He whispered into her ear, "You really do look amazing."

"Thanks," she blushed.

Marc led her to her seat at the table and she sat down beside him, opposite Jordan. He looked up at her from his seat, sending her the tiniest of smiles. She smiled back before looking over at Linda, who was placing all the food down on the table.

"This looks amazing," she gushed, looking at the large assortment of food surrounding her. "I can't remember the last time I saw so much food in one place."

"Well, when you have four sons, you tend to buy a lot of groceries," she joked. "Do you have any siblings, sweetie?"

Jordan glanced at Mae as she shook her head, still maintaining her composure. "Nope. I'm an only child."

"Were your parents upset when they found out that you weren't going to be spending Christmas with them?" Henry asked from the head of the table. "Marc tells us that they live in Ohio."

Mae shrugged. "Yeah, they do," she confirmed. "But I don't really like going to visit them that often. I go for maybe a week twice a year, one of those times usually being Christmas. But this time, I explained to them the situation and they finally started understanding that I'm old enough to make my own decisions. They're setting me free, so to speak."

Jordan chuckled inwardly. Mae was a good liar.

Everyone eased into their conversations with one another, the common denominator being about hockey and the upcoming Stanley Cup playoffs. Soon, the conversation drifted to how much time everyone had left in Thunder Bay.

"How much longer are you staying before you head back?" Linda asked everyone, looking around the table.

"Um, well," Mae spoke up. "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Marc repeated. "I thought we were going back together next week."

Mae nibbled on some asparagus and shrugged her shoulders gently. "I have a lot of things to sort out back in New York," she explained vaguely, briefly making eye contact with Jordan. "I'm taking a Greyhound. You don't have to come back with me."

"You could stay," Henry offered. "We have plenty of room here."

"No, it's not that," Mae said genially, getting a bit overwhelmed by how nice the Staals were being to her. She wasn't used to...families. "I don't want to impose any longer than I already have. And I need to get back to New York because I've got an art show coming up with a few friends, and I really need to get back to work on finishing my remaining pieces."

"Ah yes, both Marc and Jordan told us that you were an artist," Linda commented. "Could we by any chance see some of your work? Maybe after dinner?"

"I can show you a piece right now, actually," Mae offered. "It's my Christmas gift to all of you for being so hospitable towards me."

Linda beamed. "You painted something for us?"

"Yeah, let me go get it," she grinned, rising from her seat and heading up the stairs. Minutes later, she came back lugging a giant five by four of a winter scene from the Staal's backyard. There was snow falling from the sky, lining the trees with a blanket of white. But in the background, the clouds parted to let in the golden rays of the sun, washing over certain parts of the cold snow and ice, turning them almost orange.

"It's kind of like an impressionist painting," she explained, telling them the concept behind it. "I don't know exactly where you can put this since it's kind of big, but I figured that since you guys all love hockey so much, a winter painting would be appropriate."

Everyone gushed about how beautiful the painting was and how the layering of the paints made it look so much more exquisite. Mae just stood there and blushed, not really knowing how to reply. She'd had some outward reactions to her artwork before, but none as enthusiastic as theirs.

Linda got up and hugged Mae. "Promise us that you'll be safe on your trip back to New York."

Mae smiled. "I'll do my best."

* * * * *

Mae was back in her room, the clock flashing midnight. The majority of the family had passed out from eating too much turkey or from consuming too much alcohol. Mae was packing away her things into her suitcase while simultaneously trying to clean up the mess she made while staying in that guest room.

"Hey," Jordan called from the open door. Mae was crouched down trying to pick up some papers. She glanced over and stood up straight, placing the papers on the desk.

"I thought you were sleeping."

"Nope," he stated. "I think I was the only one who didn't over eat. Except for you, since you're the only other person awake in the house."

Mae nodded, feeling a bit awkward.

"So..." Jordan trailed off. "You're leaving for New York tomorrow?"

"Yeah," she said. "I was looking online and I found a Narcotics Anonymous group in Alphabet City."

"Is that why you're going back so soon?"

"Yeah."

Jordan smiled. "I'm proud of you, Mae." He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug. "I really am."

"Thank you, Jordan," she mumbled against his chest, her arms looping around his neck. "I couldn't have been able to even think of getting clean if it weren't for you."

Letting her go, he asked, "What time do you leave tomorrow?"

"Really early," she sighed. "Like around...eight o'clock. So I have to leave and be at the Greyhound station by seven-thirty."

"Do you want me to drive you?" he offered.

She shook her head. "Marc's driving me."

"Oh," he said, sounding disappointed. "So...I guess we're saying our goodbyes now?"

Mae bit her lip and gently kicked her leg back, closing the door with her foot. She moved towards Jordan and tugged him down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him firmly on the lips. "Let's not say goodbye just yet," she whispered, leading him over to the bed.