CHAPTER THREE

The Art of Tilly Marshall

-

"Are you excited, little one?" I asked from the front seat of the car. Tilly bounced in her booster seat, cheering joyfully.

"Yes, yes, yes! I'm gonna paint a pretty picture, daddy!" she squealed.

Her excitement was beginning to rub off on me, it seemed. My chest was light with happiness from seeing her smile. This would do her good. Besides, it was nice actually doing something different with Tilly. She'd have good memories of us. I'd make sure of it.

"Alright, alright. What kinda pretty picture?"

Tilly thought for a moment, tapping her little fingers on her lap.

"It's gonna be you, and me, and Ollie, and mommy, too."

I winced but kept any negative thoughts to myself. She didn't remember her mother but kids at school always asked her about it.

"Why do you only have a dad?" and "Where is your mommy?". It was hard to explain to Tilly, but I didn't want her to grow up without at least knowing who her mother was.

In her bedroom was a framed picture of Gabby holding baby Tilly in her arms, smiling as if she were proud to be a mom.

"That's nice, sweetheart," I smiled painfully.

"What about you, daddy? What are ya gonna paint?"

I narrowed my eyes as I slowed and pulled into a parking spot outside of the high school, taking note of the several other cars dispersed throughout the lot.

"I'm not sure, maybe I'll do Ollie, too?"

"No! That's stealing. You have to do your own," she demanded, and in the rearview mirror, I could see her fold her arms.

I chuckled, "Okay, fine. I'll think about it."

-

The doors squealed open as we made our way through the front of the school. It was dark outside, and several lights were off in the building, making for an eerie sight. Tilly held onto my hand as we walked in, taking a right where the lights illuminated the decorated hallway.

We wandered for a little bit, passing classrooms, the lunchroom, and even the teacher's lounge until the art wing was upon us. I peeked around the corner, hearing chatter drift from this part of the school.

"Daddy," Tilly mumbled, "I-I don't want to do this."

We rounded the corner and I glanced down at my daughter.

"What? Tilly, we just got here. We came all this way, just try it. You might like it."

She shook her head, her hand tightening around mine. "No, I don't want to."

I kept myself from grumbling before I felt a presence aside from the two of us. I stood upright, eyes locking onto the woman who smiled before us.

"Welcome," she said, hands clasped in front of her. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words escaped.

"Daddy." Tilly tugged my hand with a frown.

"Uh, sorry," I chuckled awkwardly. Releasing Tilly from my grasp and digging into my back pocket, I tugged out the pamphlet, wrinkled with a few stains.

"I hope I'm in the right place." Handing her the paper, I adjusted myself and fixed my shirt.

Her red curls bounced as she nodded, holding the pamphlet out to me.

"Yep, you're right where you're supposed to be." Her smile was bright, with a faint hint of dimples pressed into her cheeks. A light sprinkling of freckles dusted her face and her eyes were a beautiful green, luminous and cheerful.

It was easy to see how I had such a hard time speaking.

"I'm Miss Kayleigh. Kayleigh Homer.  And you are...?"

"Right. I'm Jack and this is Tilly," I said, nudging the little girl forward. She shied away, hugging my leg and glancing off to the side.

Kayleigh and I both chuckled. She knelt down, fixing her large, burgundy sweater, before resting a hand on her knee.

"That's a beautiful name, Tilly. Sounds like a real artist. Do you like art?"

She smiled bashfully and nodded.

"Well, you're gonna love my class. Sorry, dad, but we're gonna make such a mess. Hope you don't mind!"

Kayleigh held out her hand to Tilly, her grin warm and welcoming. Tilly hesitated, glancing up at me. I nodded.

"Go ahead, I'm right behind you."

Kayleigh's eyes met mine once more, offering a wink, and then she stood to her feet. With Tilly's hands clasped in hers finally, the two walked in front of me, and Tilly chatted Kayleigh's ear off.

I'd never seen Tilly get on with anyone like that so quickly. Flicking my thumb against my forefinger as I walked, I stared at the back of Kayleigh's head, Dan's advice repeating in the back of my head.

Maybe I should get her number. I shook my head and sighed. That was the last thing I needed. Besides having been out of the dating game for so long, I had too many trust issues.

The smile on my face fell to a frown. I walked through the doorway of the art room, past the collection of drawings and paintings done by talented students, and into the class where a dozen others sat patiently.

Mutterings traveled across the room, some prying eyes flitting to us newcomers. Tilly was enthralled with her new friend, she forgot she was even scared a few seconds ago.

There were several tables spread about the room, all prepared with paper and different mediums: pencils, paint, and charcoal. Tilly was going to have a blast.

I made my way to the table closest to the exit, with my back against the wall for the best view of the room, and helped Tilly into her chair. Being a cop meant working 24/7. I had to be on guard, even while off-duty.

"Welcome, everyone!" Kayleigh clapped her hands together and approached the front of the room with a booming smile.

My eyes scanned the room before settling on her.

"I know many of you don't know me, which is okay. I'm new, just moved to town a month ago. My name is Kayleigh Homer and I'm an art teacher here at the high school."

Tying a smock around her waist, Kayleigh nodded to us.

"I'm so happy with the turnout, you guys! I didn't think this many would show up," she said and blushed. "Since today is the first day, I think it'd be good to express ourselves using our favorite medium. So, just a free-for-all. Next week, I'll start with the basics, especially for the kids."

With that, she released us to our devices, and Tilly got started right away. I helped her pour small dollups of paint onto a little plate and handed her a paintbrush.

"Have at it, kiddo," I said with a smirk. She didn't bother responding and got to work.

I took this time to stare at the blank paper in front of me. What the hell was I supposed to do? I never drew, nor painted. Hell, I didn't even know charcoal was used for art. That's something I'd cook with. 

"Not a painter?"

Startling me, I spun to find Kayleigh hovering over my shoulder.

"Uh, not exactly," I said, rubbing my neck.

"Well, if I'm being honest, you look like a charcoal kinda man." She winked at me before walking away, glancing over the shoulders of the other patrons.

I narrowed my eyes and stared at the strange, black stick before picking it up.

"This is really meant for art?" I said aloud.

Tilly was enthralled with her paints that she didn't bother looking at me while I inspected the charcoal. Sighing, I tugged a piece of paper my way and leaned over it. I pressed the piece of charcoal to the sheet and... it broke.

It was lightweight, similar to a hollowed stick or something of that nature. I didn't realize that I was using a lot of pressure, causing it to snap under the weight.

"Whoops," I muttered.

It took me a few minutes before I figured out what the hell I was doing, but once I got the hang of it, I was sketching different shapes. Nothing was coming to mind when I drew, I was aimlessly dragging the charcoal across the paper, before deciding to shade, the powdered residue coming off onto my hand.

For the first time in a while, my mind focused only on one thing. I felt relaxed, a feeling I hadn't had for a long, long time.

I was so enveloped in my work that I didn't realize an hour had already passed. Glancing over, I noticed Tilly was gone. I shot up, scanning the room with wild eyes, until I spotted her next to another little girl, giggling and painting on each other's art.

With a huff, I dropped the charcoal and wiped my hands on my jeans. I looked down at the mess that was my artwork, squinting my eyes at what I'd done.

When I looked at it, I felt incredibly stressed. There was something about the way it looked that bothered me. Black lines dashed across the paper, up and down, left to right. It looked like I was trying to draw a face, but instead, a blocky creature stared back at me.

"Interesting," a voice said from behind.

I whipped my head to the right and held my breath for a moment. A young, blonde woman smiled and pointed at my work.

"Yeah, uh, thanks." I nodded, before turning to look at Tilly. I waved her over to me when she saw me.

"My name's Madison," the blonde woman said. She hadn't left yet?

I spun in my back to the young woman. She held out her hand for me to shake it.

"Oh, hi. I'm Jack and that's Tilly," I said, pointing to my daughter. I shook her hand politely, hoping she'd take a hint.

"I've seen you around in your cruiser, Deputy. Just thought I'd say hello. It's not often new faces come around. Funny how we've got you and then Miss Homer, there, just several months apart. That's not something you see quite often."

Madison looked down at Tilly and smiled broadly, revealing a set of dimples.

"Hi there, Tilly," she said, pressing her hands together in front of her and bending down slightly to be at eye level with the little girl.

Tilly looked at her, then at me, squinting her eyes suspiciously. I nodded my head and told her to be polite and to say "Hello". After reluctantly listening, she ran up to me and shoved her semi-wet painting in my face.

"Daddy! Look! It's me, you, Ollie, and Mommy!"

Madison stood upright, fixing her blouse, quickly taking her leave at the comment Tilly made.

I smiled at Ti-Ti but not because of her art, which was perfect, but because for the first time, the mention of her mother actually did some good.