Who Names The Colors

Heart of Heads

Harry was ineffably charming. He was excitable and smiley and smirky and curious. He loved art. And he seemed to love Jo's museum.

At the ticket booth, when Jo pulled out her wallet, he had looked at her like she suggested he eat beetles for breakfast. "Are you joking?" He'd cocked his neck back and bulged his eyes. "I asked you out!"

Jo didn't remind him that he was a student who taught swim lessons in the summer to have his own place and she was much older than him and had an established life and bloody career. Or that he was her student. Because they weren't focusing on that today, so she just quietly put away her wallet and let him pay. She resolved she'd cover some petrol or food though. She assumed he would feed her.

Her mind wandered and she could almost taste the scone she had favored in her university days. That was on the list of things she wanted to happen on this already altogether perfect day.

Harry grabbed her hand back shamelessly, walked her to a stand and laid out the map. Jo almost told him they didn't need it, until she realized that she hadn't been here since the time she had strapped Ethan to her body before he could walk and come to say goodbye when they were moving to Manchester. Things may have changed in over 20 years. 20 years, her favorite place and she hadn't been here in two decades. She was astounded.

"Jo, where do you want to start?" He looked to his left and realized she wasn't with him, and pulled her over by the hand from where she stood stupefied. When she didn't respond still, he looked at her, "Alright?"

"I haven't been here since Ethan was a baby!" She stated. "How have I not been here in over 20 years?" Jo's eyes felt a bit misty and she was embarrassed by this reaction too.

Harry just half smiled at her and pulled her closer to him and ran his thumb over her knuckles for a minute. "Do you want a minute to check it out yourself? See what's changed?" He kept caressing her  hand carefully and smiling kindly. 

Did she want to be alone, no, but Jo did need to see if her favorite pieces were there. She squeezed his hand, the one he seemed unlikely to relinquish if she went by the grip. "Can we go to the third floor galleries? I want to see if something is still here, and then, let's look at the constellations and your Lichtenstein."

"That is a plan, but you left out something." He waited for her to fill in his meaning, but it was totally lost on her.

"What else? I think that's a pretty good day at the museum." She shrugged.

"What about your sweeties? I bet you ate..." he tapped his chin, "Scones, that's what I used to send with Ethan from the bakery right?" Harry's smile was a decoded enigma machine, like he knew all her secrets. It felt like he just might, and rather than feeling naked, Jo felt known. Maybe she was bare to him too, but that was now a thing of joy.

"How do you remember these things?" She started to pull away to walk to the staircase, and he kept her hand close and came to her side. The positioning, side by side, seemed very important to him. They walked up the stairs.

"I remember almost everybody's orders from the bakery, think it's my calling or somethin—"

"No, your calling is definitely painting." She meant the words, but would have lied to see that shy, pleased smile.

"I think because I worked there so long, and people are consistent, especially when someone else is going for them, stick to their favorite."  He tilted his head a little toward her. "You got nothing, or a scone, usually cranberry orange."

"That is some memory you've got." Jo complimented.

He opened the door, and leaned into her face as she went passed him to enter the gallery. His lips caught the corner of her mouth and landed on her cheek firmly. At her ear he murmured, "Imagine what else I could put it to use for."