Elanna In The Park Pt 02

A big thank you to everyone for the encouragement to continue this story!

Trigger warning: some elaboration on a tragic backstory.

***

Thursday was the most incredible day I had experienced in years. I met Elanna in the park. She was so sweet, talented, and beautiful that I was still in disbelief when I woke up Friday morning. It hadn't been a dream, because the drawing she sold me was on the kitchen table, waiting to be framed and hung.

I was so puzzled by what we shared. We had already been so intimate, but we had never touched each other. I feel like she bared her soul to me as she showed me so much of her artwork. Then she bared her body to me as well! Accidentally, the first time. I will never forget the picture of her petite body in those red stockings, lacey see-through top, and the matching lipstick. Her long brown hair framed her beautiful face, and the red lingerie framed her naked midsection. She was posing by a mirror so I could see her cute butt and her bare pussy at the same time.

That first picture is still my favorite.

It seems a pity that I have classes to teach all day Friday. Long work days on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday let me enjoy the park on Tuesday and Thursday. Thankfully, there is plenty of time between classes and office hours to explore the wonderful new memories of my favorite artist.

I walked to the park on Friday evening, hoping to run into Elanna. At the very least, there would be another sunset to enjoy. Unfortunately, the madhouse nature of the park on the weekends seems to include Friday nights as well.

No matter. The evening was just as well spent hanging the drawing in its new frame over my kitchen table. A place of honor where it would be admired every morning and most evenings.

***

Saturday morning brought a new opportunity. I had papers to mark, and recently learned of a nearby well-decorated coffee shop. I grabbed my satchel and the business card for the coffee shop and then headed out. It was a chance to see some of Elanna's paintings in person, and I was an enthusiastic patron of the artist.

I set my bag on a table and ordered a Mocha Latte from the barista. I stepped over to examine an abstract piece. The information beside it confirmed that the artist was Elanna. It had a black background with a few broad white and gold arcs. Only, the texture of the paint didn't match the painting itself in several places. As if the art piece I was looking at now had been painted over an existing picture. Curious.

The door chimed as a new customer walked in. Elanna was greeted by the barista asking, "the usual?"

"Yes, thank you."

She saw me standing by her painting and walked over. Her smile made my heart skip a beat. Or was it her eyes? What color would you call those? Somewhere between grey and hazel? A subdued hazel perhaps?

"Good morning Michael. What do you think?"

"That you're still..." Wait a second there Casanova, she meant the painting! "Ah, I mean, the photo didn't do this painting justice."

She stood in silence for a moment before I recognized this old teacher's trick. Awkward silence until a student finally elaborates on their answer.

"The texture didn't come through on the computer screen. And the contrast seems harsher in person. Plus it looks like it was painted over something else." Why didn't I shut up after the first sentence? "But not in a bad way!" Smooth as ever.

"Michael," the barista called out, letting me know my drink was ready. Saved by coffee!

He snapped a picture of his latte artwork before sliding the chocolatey elixir across the counter for easy access.

I pointed at the table with my satchel. "I'm sitting over there if you'd care to join me."

Elanna nodded and turned to study the painting while waiting for her drink.

I sat down with the most picturesque latte I had ever been served and took the first sip. Whoever runs this shop, they have mastered preparing both coffee beans and cocoa beans. This professor has tasted heaven!

I was still lost in my out-of-body experience when an angel took a seat next to me.

"I did paint that one over another painting."

"May I ask why?"

"Sometimes a painting is a failure. But you can always try again, once the canvas dries."

She took a drink of her coffee and I took a closer look at her outfit today. A tight-fitting pastel shirt covering a white bra, grey shorts, and her white canvas shoes. Without the bra in the way, I bet those puffy nipples of hers would look fantastic pushing against the fabric.

She caught my gaze and smiled. "You never said whether you liked the painting."

"Yes, I do like it."

She smiled again. "Thank you."

"I wasn't just saying that to be polite either."

"Michael, you either ramble or stumble over your words when you feel unsure. I think an outright lie would make you collapse into a babbling mess."

Three days and she can read me like an open book. She hasn't taken off running, so that's promising.

"That's how I knew you were being genuine the other morning when you said I was beautiful."

Okay. She could read me like a book in just a couple of hours, and it took me three days to find out. Well, if she hasn't run off yet then I won't run off either.

"I need to get going, but would you like to come to see my studio tomorrow? It's just the living room of my apartment set up for painting. We could get take-out and you can look at more of my paintings in person."

"That sounds like a wonderful first date. Except, I have to know something first."

"What's that?"

"The picture of you in red, the one I accidentally saw on your phone. Who was it meant for?"

She blushed slightly and in a hushed tone said, "my job and my art don't always pay enough, so I make a little extra money with those photos. I don't have a boyfriend if that's what you are wondering."

Whew, that's a relief. "That's what I needed to know, thank you. What time?"

"First, tell me about the ring on your finger."

***

My breath caught in my throat. I twisted my wedding band. Since the day I married Lisa, I've only taken it off when medically necessary. I teach, shower, and even sleep with it on, even though I shouldn't.

Lisa was my college sweetheart. We just clicked. Lisa moved close to me when I started grad school. By the end of grad school, we were living together.

I married Lisa two weeks after I graduated with my doctorate. For our honeymoon, we rented a cabin in a beautiful national park for a week.

That fall, we settled into our new lives. I was the underpaid professor, she was the underpaid school teacher. We never had much, but we always had enough.

For twelve years we built our life together. It all ended that one morning when she left to fly to a conference. Her taxi never made it to the airport.

Most days I only remember the good times and the love we shared. But once in a while, the pain of losing her hits me as hard as it did the moment that Sheriff told me the news six years ago.

***

I wiped a tear from my eye and smiled at no one in particular. "Elanna, I lost my Lisa..." No more words came. There was a lump in my throat, and the tears were moments away from flowing in full force.

Elanna stands up to lean over and hug me. "It's okay Michael. I am so sorry for your loss."

I patted her hand and smiled weakly as she pulled away to look at my face. My tears were mostly subdued by her comforting embrace.

"Lisa was a very lucky woman. You loved her so deeply."

Just then the barista showed up at the table with another Mocha, a glass of water, and a small stack of napkins.

I objected, hoarsely, "I didn't order..."

"It's on the house. Any friend of Elanna's is a friend of mine. If you need anything else, my name is Angelo."

I shifted in my seat and thanked him.

"Are you okay, do you need me to stay?" Elanna asked.

"I'll be fine. You go ahead."

"Angelo, I have to go. Would you keep an eye on him?"

"He's in good hands. See you later Elanna."

She turned back to me. "Is seven tomorrow good for you?"

"Can we make it six? I eat a little early on school nights."

"See you at six. Goodbye, Michael." She chuckled.

My confused expression made her elaborate. "Michael, Angelo?"

Oh good grief, I chuckled myself.

After a short while, I settled into marking papers. Students seldom realize how important a teacher's happiness is while grading. True story. Grading after an emotional rollercoaster could have spelled disaster. Thankfully, looking forward to a date with Elanna while sipping a fantastic coffee probably added ten points to the class average. Less deducting points, more suggestions for improvement.

***

There's a running joke that it's nearly impossible to distinguish professors from hobos. It's a cruel joke, having known no less than three homeless professors myself. Still, I made sure to dress up a bit for our first date. I wore a nice shirt, freshly pressed slacks, and some comfortable but dressy shoes. The tie was discarded almost immediately as being too formal.

With a bottle of wine in hand, I knocked on Elanna's door. After a minute the door cracked open and she peeked out. "Michael! You did say six instead of seven! I'm so sorry I forgot."

She undid the door chain, opened the door wider, and welcomed me in. "Sorry, I was filming. Give me just a minute."

My eyes widened a bit as she walked away briskly. An unbuttoned white shirt, no bra, pink panties... We should all be so comfortable with our bodies!

I made sure the front door was latched then stepped in a little further. I think her apartment is about the same size as mine. Plenty of room for one person, as long as they don't collect too much stuff like school books or paintings. I had to grin and shake my head since professors and artists would be cramped in an apartment this size.

I heard the bathroom sink run for a minute before she stepped back out to greet me more normally this time. She had changed into gray trousers and a yellow blouse. Her feet were still bare though. I took that as a cue to slip my shoes off and leave them by the door. She took the wine and suggested taking my socks off as well, in case I step in wet paint. You're more likely to feel it immediately and not track it all over, plus no ruined socks.

She guided me to the kitchen where she pointed me to a couple of menus on the counter. "They are both fast and have good food." She poured the wine, we called in our order and then walked to the studio.

There was an easel near the center of the room with an unfinished painting on it, still wet. A light on a tripod was illuminating the piece. Another tripod stood nearby with what looked like an empty phone holder, probably for filming videos. Elanna pointed me to a few stacks of paintings standing against one wall while she set about cleaning her brushes and palette.

I gingerly picked up a painting and took a closer look. This one was a small, vibrantly colored abstract with light blue, bright green, and some vivid yellow accents. As if someone dropped a camera in a field of daffodils, perhaps. But I was uncomfortable holding the painting. Aren't you supposed to wear soft cotton gloves to handle paintings? How fragile is it?

"Oh, here. Let me display that properly so you can get a better look." Elanna confidently took the canvas from my hands and placed it on a shorter easel atop the short chest of drawers she uses to store her art supplies. There was a soft light hanging from the ceiling perfectly illuminating the painting now.

"Much better! It reminds me of daffodils."

She was pleased. "That's why I like painting in the abstract. Everyone sees something different. When I painted this, I was exploring how these colors play together. But from now on, I will think of daffodils too. Or maybe buttercups."

"Yellow tulips?" I chimed in. "But you paint landscapes too."

Trying to match her confidence, I returned the painting to its original location and selected a winter forest landscape to put on the stand next.

"This snow-covered forest. Is it a real place?"

"Yes. Two years ago my family went on a ski vacation, but we went at the wrong time. The snow was terrible for skiing. There was a shop in the village where I bought what I needed to paint the forest outside the lodge. We made the best of it, and we had a great time. Only, don't clean your brush in hot chocolate. It ruins the flavor." We laughed together over that one.

We carried on talking about paintings and scenic trips until our food arrived. Over dinner, we talked about ourselves a bit. My life as a professor. Her life as a recently graduated art student.

After her December graduation, she kept her part-time job at the art store near campus. She sells a couple of paintings a month out of Angelo's coffee shop. Between the two she has plenty of coffee, art supplies, and enough money to cover the bills.

Her erotic photography started as a way to make a little extra spending money. But she liked the confidence boost it gave her as well, and she enjoyed finding creative ways to look sexy for her fans. She said she would probably keep doing it even if she didn't need the money, for a few more years anyway.

The food disappeared and the wine bottle was emptied as we talked into the evening.

"Let's step outside and watch the sunset." She stood up and took my hand and led me to the front door. We both put on our shoes before she took my hand again and lead me to our viewing spot outside.

Her hand felt soft and small and delicate and warm and incredible. The clouds over the nearby buildings slowly transitioned from warmer yellows, oranges, and reds into cooler purples and blues. But the most magical thing about this sunset was sharing it with Elanna. We stood there, she held my hand and leaned into me as we watched. The rest of the world could have vanished into dust and I would have never noticed.

Eventually, she let go of my hand, turned to face me, and started, "Michael, I..."

She put her hands on my shoulders, stepped up on her tiptoes, and gave me a quick kiss before lowering herself back to firm footing.

At that moment, I think I forgot how to breathe. No matter, there are more important things to do right now. I leaned forward and extended a hand to support the small of her back as my lips approached hers. Her arms wrapped around me and she closed the last little gap to kiss me again. So we kissed, and it felt like nothing I'd ever experienced before. Like the raw emotion of the moment outshone the physical kiss the way the sun outshines a firefly. Or like the universe offered us everything our hearts could ever desire, and we chose each other.

We stopped when a nearby streetlight turned on and startled us back to reality. One hand still supporting the small of her back, I reached up and caressed her cheek with the other. She closed her eyes, leaned into it, and gave a hmm of approval.

"Elanna, I'm afraid I will have to call it a night soon. The lack of sleep impacted my lessons last Friday, and I can't let that happen tomorrow. But let's meet again at our park bench Tuesday morning?" As much as I didn't want the evening to end, the real world stops for no one.

"Oh, okay. I understand. Yes, Tuesday morning in the park. I'll bring my sketchbook, you bring the snacks?" She couldn't conceal her disappointment.

"Absolutely! It's a date."

She smiled politely. "I had a great time this evening. Thank you for coming over. Goodnight Michael."

"This was the best evening I have enjoyed in a very long time. Thank you so much for inviting me. Good night, Elanna."

We shared a quick hug before she turned and headed back to her door.

"Elanna."

She turned to look at me, still looking slightly dejected.

"I love you."

The look on her face instantly turned to pure joy! She ran straight at me, lept up, and landed with her arms over my shoulders and her legs wrapped around my midsection. I was able to shift one foot back enough to keep us from falling over, and my hands shot forward to catch her. One found her upper back, and the other found her butt.

"I knew it! I knew you loved me! I love you too!" She planted another kiss on me.

It took a few moments for my head to stop spinning, and then I started considering the situation. How do so many parts of this woman fit my hands so perfectly? The small of her back, her cheek, and now her butt! I wondered how her breasts would feel, but that's going to have to wait for another time.

She finished the kiss, pulled her head back, and we just looked at each other and smiled for a moment.

"I do need to put you down and get going. But we should pick up where we've left off on Tuesday."

She gave me one last peck on the lips, lowered herself to the ground, and stepped back. "You had better believe it, mister. We are not done here, not by a long shot."

She playfully spun me around and gave me a quick swat on my ass. "Now get going."

"Alright, alright!" I looked at her over my shoulder, playfully rubbing my backside and pretending to stomp off.

"And Michael, I love the way your hand fits my butt."

Me too, Elanna. Me too.

***

I sat on the edge of my bed, looking at Lisa's picture on the nightstand as I twisted my wedding band.

"Honey, I remember we talked about this. If one of us passed away, the other should move on and live a good life. It was so much easier when it was just a 'what if?' scenario. But I just couldn't do it. For so long, I guess I never really wanted to move on."

I thought about how things have moved so fast with Elanna, but it feels so right.

"I wonder. Did you realize I was never going to move on, so you sent Elanna? If that was you, I think you did too good of a job. She is so amazing."

Slowly, I began to slide my wedding band from my finger.

"I still love you as much as I ever have. I will never stop loving you as long as I live. But I will honor your wish, that I move on and live a good life. And if there is a heaven, we should meet up and tell stories of all the wonderful times we've had together."

I place the ring beside the picture frame.

"Good night, Lisa. I miss you."

My phone chimed. "Good night, Michael. I love you!"

I texted back. "Good night, Elanna. I love you too!"