even simple spaghetti. “I’m here though. If you need anything.”
“I know. Goodbye.”
I throw the mobile down and resume the chopping, determined to see this meal through. I get through the rest of the onions and move to the tomatoes. The work is hypnotic—the slice of the knife through the peel and guts, the sound as it hits the board underneath. There’s a satisfaction in each cut. There’s permanence. A mark made that can’t be undone. The most addictive form of art.
Tempting. So very tempting.
When Freddie runs in, I’m shaken from an adrenaline-filled daze. The sleeve of my long-sleeved shirt is rolled up, and I’m staring at the knife in my hand.
I blink. Horrified, I toss the utensil in the sink, as eager to have it out of my hands as I would be if it were a hot coal.
“Look at this one, Mummy. I made this one dynamite.”
I laugh aloud before I take the robot drawing from him, startling us both. I turn off the burner, wipe my hands, and pick up my mobile. “Hold on one minute. Let me order dinner. Tandori sound good?”
“Extra na’an,” he says. He’s not disappointed in me in the least.
Chapter Four
Framing: The method by which information is included or excluded from a photograph, film, or video. A photographer or filmmaker frames an image when he or she points a camera at a subject. - MoMA Glossary of Art Terms
I’m quite an idiot.
I realize it when I stand in front of the class the following Saturday. Looking around, I notice most of them in jeans or relaxed wear, an appropriate choice for a weekend course, while I’m dressed in a long-sleeve trouser suit that would be better suited for the office. I can excuse my choice of attire as wanting to be professional, which is true, but the decision to apply heavier makeup and—God help me—curl my hair makes my look stand out.
It says I’m trying too hard.
And I am.
Hopefully, they believe I’m trying for them, to present myself as a suitable teacher, which again, is true, but the reality is I spent the extra time getting ready with only one student in mind. A student who I have forbidden myself from caring about.
Obviously that’s going swimmingly.
It’s not fair that Hendrix looks absolutely scrumptious in a pair of light khakis and a dark blue Henley. He hasn’t even shaved in a couple of days, and somehow that lack of effort makes him all the more delicious.
It’s quite the opposite from how he appeared in Paris. There he was clean-shaven and freshly cut, the kind of look that generally catches my eye. Paired with the slim-fit suit he’d worn for his presentation, and I was a goner.
It strikes me now that I might not have even given him a second glance if he were relaxed as he is now, yet this look is more fitting. This is who he is—rough-edged and indifferent with just a hint of wild in his eyes, despite the laid-back posture.
I memorize him in this moment, a photo snapped in my mind, framed without Kaila beside him—wasn’t she a dear for saving him a seat?—so that I can study it later and fully appreciate his rugged beauty without all the noise surrounding him.
Then I put him out of my head and turn my attention fully to the class agenda.
“Every photograph should tell a story, even a portrait,” I begin, and all eyes laser in on me. It’s weird being the most fascinating thing in the room. Unsettling. Especially when I feel the bob of my stupid curls at each turn of my head. I feel like a performer rather than a field expert. Like I’m pretending to have something worthy to share.
It’s easier when I really get into the lecture. The words flow when I’m talking about something I know, something I’m passionate about, and this particular subject is one I could spend all day on. Unfortunately, I’ve only allotted myself twenty minutes so I have to stick to the bare essentials, only having time to show them examples using my own work when there are so many other artists I’d love to discuss with them.
But this is a workshop, not a lecture study. I’ve done the math—thirteen students, a three-hour class. After I speak, that leaves them twenty minutes to get started on the activity. Then I’ll have ten minutes to coach each of them individually as the rest continue to work.
I watch the clock and wrap up quickly when my