The following few days were unlike anything Jim had experienced before. Helena cooked, cleaned and fussed over him, channelling all her frustration into his care. Though not the world’s greatest cook, she could manage a mean chicken noodle soup and was happy to bring him blankets and cool packs depending on his personal thermostat. She sat with him, watched TV with him, fell asleep with him; often they would wake, unable to remember when and where they had fallen asleep. They talked, not about paintings, weddings or work, but instead traded memories of adventures and shenanigans they got up to together as kids. They talked about their hopes and dreams, about regrets, about things they missed and those they didn’t.
The day before they were due to fly out, Jim was finally on the mend. Despite his improving health both seemed unhappy with the change. Helena struggled to find excuses to get close to Jim and he wouldn’t ask for help when none was needed. Helena washed the last of his germy clothes and blankets and sat in the kitchen holding a half full coffee mug to her cheek.
“Hey,” he said.
She smiled behind the mug, “Hey.”
“It’s finished. Do you want to see it?”
She put down the mug and followed him outside and down the path. The last time she’d opened the shed door, the barrage of paintings of a red haired, blue-eyed girl had been overwhelming. There had been so many painted images of her, ones of her smiling, laughing, crying. Memories she had forgotten, resurrected before her very eyes. There was her catching a fish at the Mandurah jetty, riding her bike in her favourite Roxy hoodie, fixing Jim’s first car, dancing at a club.
This time she was prepared. Helena inhaled sharply, bracing herself as the door swung open. Blankets hung over the walls of the shed, there was only one painting visible. It stood proudly on an old wooden easel in the centre of the room. She walked closer to it. She examined the painting of herself in a black dress. She struggled to assimilate her own self-perception and that of Jim’s. Painted Helena looked stunningly beautiful. She had a radiant smile, both self-deprecating and glowing at the same time. Her eyes sparkled blue and white, like the sun reflecting on the ocean. The girl in the painting held herself proudly, her look one of supreme confidence. She tried to clear the lump from her throat, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Do you like it?” he asked quietly. Helena tried to find the words to answer, but could not. “Oh, I guess it’s not my best—”
“Shut up,” she blurted out. “It’s beautiful, she’s beautiful. It’s just not me.”
He put a protective arm around her shoulder. “Hey, I know every freckle on your face, every line. That’s you from a few weeks ago.”
She rested her head on his shoulders, “But she’s so pretty.”
“Inside and out,” he whispered and caught her eye. Helena put one arm around Jim and held him close. She couldn’t help but snuggle into him, resting the side of her face against his neck. She saw his Adam’s apple move up and down as he cleared his throat nervously. His arm around her made her feel safe, but she wanted to feel safer yet. She put her other arm around his waist encircling him fully. Time stretched as they stood together staring at the painting, neither willing to move closer yet not able to move away.
Helena was the first to break the silence. “Is that really how you see me, Jim?”
He smiled at her, “No. I could never do you justice. Just a couple strokes of paint, the real thing is much more impressive.”
There it was, the most romantic thing anyone would ever say to Helena and the only thing left to do was kiss him. She shifted her face and could see him watching her from the corner of his eye. She moved even closer. They were cheek to cheek. She could feel the rapid rise of his chest and knew he felt as she did, now, without any shadow of a doubt: he loved her. Helena smiled and moved ever so slightly closer, inviting him to keep going, keep moving closer. Jim’s eyes finally met hers, she saw the adoration, the boundless love as well as the heat of desire.
“Hels,” he whispered unable to keep that gorgeous, stupid grin from his face. She couldn’t help but return the smile. Here, they were completely honest, no more games, no more confusion. She leaned in.
“I…” he began, but was interrupted, and not by the kiss she had so wanted to plant on his sweet mouth, but the voice of Kelly screaming out at the top of her lungs, “Jimmy, are you in the shed?”
*****
There should have been an instinctive release, but neither moved.
“Jim!”
It was like a game of chicken. Their eyes stared, willing the other to let go. But neither of them wanted to let go, not now, not ever. The shed door cracked open and Kelly burst in. “Couldn’t you hear me calling?”
Jim looked up from the paint pots he was stacking. “Sorry, what? The flu has mucked up my ears. Hels was talking about some car stuff. Weren’t you Hels?”
Helena agreed quickly, “I’m trying to convince Jim here that he should upgrade to a Holden Commodore, but he thinks his precious old Falcon will last forever.”
“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Jim argued instinctively.
“There will be.”
“Stop, both of you,” Kelly scolded using her high-pitched teacher voice. “I’ve been thinking, I’m actually not okay with you two going away together.” She paused to view their reactions. Neither said anything. “I keep remembering how you two kissed at that dinner party, and I’m sorry, but I would be an idiot to let you go together.”
“Let me go?” Jim clarified.
Kelly pushed her nose into the air. “Yes. When you proposed marriage to me you were putting us first, putting me first. I mean, how would you like it if I went travelling with one of my exes?”
“We’re not exes. We’re just friends,” Helena said.
“That’s even worse,” Kelly snapped. Helena, though not averse to a good yelling match, decided this was not her battle to fight. She walked out of the shed rolling her eyes. Over her shoulder, she heard Kelly’s whining voice saying, “Did you see that? She just rolled her eyes at me.”
Jim was a grown man; he could fight his own battles. She still couldn’t understand why he didn’t just tell Kelly where to stick it. It wasn’t like he had no alternatives. If she was any clearer on her intentions, she would have a huge blinking sign above her head that read ‘I love Jim’. One thing was for certain, she was going to Bali, and if Jim wanted to join her, he was more than welcome. It was a simple equation, one even he could solve.
Yet, the next day, she was amazed at his ability to complicate even the simplest of equations.