The Creative Process

Epilouge: Four Years Later

          "Arthur!" I jumped up from the couch in the family room and ran around to the front room, where Thomas had called name from. When I walked into the studio, thomas was balanced on one foot, holding back a huge golden retriever with his other foot, his hands in the air holding a cup of filthy water and a paint pallet. There was a huge messy puddle on the floor which thomas was desperately trying to keep the dog from drinking. The whole thing was just that much funnier because both him and the dog were already splattered with paint. I had a hearty laughs before I swooped in, grabbing the dogs collar and pulling him away. I levitated the cup out of his hand too, setting it on the counter next to him.

"Come on Reggie, lets go get some towels for you and dad," I sighed, awkwardly pulling the dog with me to the bathroom and grabbing the dog towels from under the sink. I tossed a few into the room with Thomas and then tried to clean as much of the paint out of Reggie's fur as possible, as he wriggled in my grip.

"I need more towels!" Thomas called from the studio.

"Come and get them yourself, I'm gonna go wash the dog!" I called back, "And don't trek paint water through the whole house!"

I dragged the dog up the stairs and into the tub. I pulled out the shower head and Reggie opened his mouth, trying to drink the water. I dodged his chomper and washed the paint from his fur easily. I turned of the water and held up a towel to protect myself from his shaking. I towel dried him a little but still chased him downstairs and outside into the sun. Afterwards, I walked into the kitchen, where Thomas was washing his brushes in the sink. I wrapped my arm around him and gave him a little peck on the cheek. He tugged his ring off his finger and washed it clean too.

"What we're you working on today?" I asked,

"Just a painting for a customer,"

"What about the one for the showcase?"

"I've been putting it off till I have some actual inspiration,"

"That's fair, but I don't want you to wait too long and then its too rushed,"

"Its still a month away, I'll be fine,"

"That's what you said about that student workshop, but you still forgot to have more than one painting prepared for that!"

"Touché," I laughed, "Don't forget Kate's coming for dinner tonight, she said she's bringing lasagna, and Kristie,"

"You said lasagna before you said Kristie you jerk," I laughed.

A knock sounded at the door and Thomas crawled over me on the couch to get to it first, second only to Reggie, bounding off the couch and barking. I grabbed his foot and opened the door without hardly looking.

"No fair!!" Thomas wailed.

Kate marched into the house with a tray of lasagna of her right hip and a little black haired girl on her left. Reggie trailed behind her.

"You two are adults, are you not?" She snapped, giving herself away with a smile. She set down the girl and she Immediately ran to us,

"UNCLE THOMAS! UNCLE ARTHUR!" She yelled, we both dropped to our knees immediately, opening our arms for a bear hug.

"Hey Kristie Cat!"I teased, picking her up and spinning her around. She giggled.

"You haven't even set the table yet?" Kate sighed, picking up a book off the kitchen table, "Move your book, I can't believe how many copies of this thing you still have laying around," she tossed the book at me and I glanced down at it before setting down on the coffee table.

"Sales are still through the roof, thanks for asking,"

"And no one was suspicious?" Kate motioned for me to help her clear the table while Thomas entertained Kristie.

"The world never associated the author with the incident, it had already been decided that I was fake so when the book came out, people thought I just got the inspiration from the situation,"

"It helped that the storyline wasn't anything like what actually happened,"

"True, grab the placemats?"

Kate pulled out a zebra print plastic placemat and smiled at it, "I cant believe we still have this, its from when I had just started fostering Kristie, do you remember?"

"How could I have forgotten," I sighed,

"We all loved her immediately," Thomas laughed, "Reggie included,"

"Sweetie, come sit down ill warm up the lasagna," Kate said, calling to Kristie then turning to me, "I'm assuming you boys didn't prepare anything else?"

"It's been a creative day, we can't afford to miss those opportunities," Thomas answered, scooping Kristie up and plopping her down in a chair at the table.

I smiled and took a seat at the table.

Kate was still a Detective, and one of the best ones the city had ever seen; she lived in a bigger flat with Kristie downtown. Kate started fostering for Kristie about three years ago, and adopted her about a year and a half ago, she's the most well behaved and polite little girl I've ever met and Kate knows it. They come down for a visit about once every two weeks or so. She calls one of us to pick Kristie up whenever she gets stuck in a case. Kristie basically has her own room here now, the guest room has enough of her drawings and toys in it.

         Thomas got the reporter job after his internship, but turned it down in favor of going through art school. We found a nice school in the country and he got accepted. He graduates next year. About a year ago, Thomas proposed and we moved out to the country and built a nice ranch style house with an art studio in the front room. Along with an art school workload, Thomas has done a few art competitions and teaches classes regularly at a recreation center nearby.

          I had published my first book around the time the incident had blown over and sales went through the roof, more than enough to support us and put Thomas through art school. My powers have only grown stronger over the years despite the fact that I hardly use them. We got Reggie as soon as we moved in and he's the life of the house, never too tired for a walk.

         We've all grown together and though I no longer wake up from nightmares in the middle of the night and Thomas' panic attacks have slimmed to nothing, we will never forget what happened four years ago. I am not the same person I was four years ago, none of us are. I guess its all part of the creative process.