With each brushstroke Jim filled the canvas with an image, an image of unrivalled love and madness. There was his gorgeous wife Helena, thirty-five years young holding their three-year-old son, Thomas, who was holding a dog treat that Max, their golden retriever, was jumping for. Jim was bending over their six-month-old baby girl, Elyse, who was cradling Reginald and laughing up at him. He loved the chaos of the painting, he was not one for the unnatural, stand-up-straight, all wide-smiles type of portraits. No, bring on the craziness that was the Murphys’. A family full of adventure and fun, laughter and tears, arguments and tantrums, and love, it was all love. A hand crept around his waist and a familiar cheek rested on his shoulder.
“Hey gorgeous,” he said as he continued to paint.
She kissed his cheek. “I remember when all you would paint was me.”
He nodded and looked around at the many paintings hanging around his workshop. There were so many of Helena, and then there were several of the newer members of the family as their love grew beyond just the two of them and manifested into two amazingly wonderful children of their own. It had been a challenge, but together they found they could do anything.
“I still paint you; that one is new.”
She turned and looked at the painting, “Oh, wow Jim. Is that the night you came back from the mine? I like those darker, shadowy tones. You were so annoying that night. I wish you’d have told me at the time what was going on with you.”
Jim shrugged, “I just wanted to kiss you.”
“Well, why didn’t you?”
“You accused me of being an uncaring bastard after I’d spent days looking for you.”
“You still could have kissed me.”
“I can kiss you now.” He wrapped his arms around her before following through on his suggestion.
Helena sighed. “You know, you’re a pretty good kisser,” she finally admitted.
“Only pretty good?”
“Well, I think it’s important to set the bar high. I wouldn’t want you getting complacent.”
Then he kissed her again until their breathing sharpened and familiar feelings began to take over. Jim caught sight of an old painting. “You know, you saved me that day,” he said pointing to the painting of the two of them sitting in a hospital chair, holding hands. “I wouldn’t be here without you.”
Helena nodded. “And I wouldn’t be here without you,” she said pointing at his current project. He smiled at the painting, the laughing faces, the love, it was all because of her amazing spirit.
“Thank you for loving me,” he whispered.
She winked at him, “Thank you for letting me.” They kissed again and this time they didn’t stop.