Perfectly Hopeless Read Online Free PDF Page B

didn’t show up like the last time she was at the yogurt hut. “Yeah, I had a nice time swimming with you.”
     
    Henri swallowed, looking away from the table.
     
    Maven studied his sudden cold demeanor. “Is everything alright, Henri?”
     
    Henri’s eyes met hers. “What if I said things weren’t alright?”
     
    Maven’s eyes grew large. “What do you mean?”
     
    Henri thought about confessing his secret.
     
    Today wasn’t the day.
     
    “ I don’t mean anything. Sometimes my mind gets the best of me.” He crumpled his napkin, tossing it into his yogurt that he barely had eaten. “Are you up for the art museum?”
     
    Maven nodded. “For sure.”
     
     
     
    The art museum of Portwood was in walking distance of just about everything. Nobody used vehicles because everything was so close. Maven loved the old fashioned cobblestone roads and the old style street lights.
     
    They hurried up the massive set of museum stairs, pushed past the revolving doors and were whisked away into displays of chic artwork. The summers heat a thing of the past. The air condition pumped plenty of cool air through the small museum.
     
    Maven kept her arms crossed as they walked into the first room of the museum. It was a little cold. Henri’s hands were tucked into his pants pockets. There were only a couple people anywhere around them. The museum wasn’t the preferred spot during the summer. Most people were busy swimming or doing something outdoors.
     
    Maven stopped in front of an old oil painting, a scenic one, lush green grass, weeping willows and a young woman running across the painting as if she was placed there later, she was so contemporary compared to the vintage feel of the backdrop, long flowing hair, supple skin. It was a piece of art.
     
    “ This is kind of nice.” Henri stepped a little closer, his hands still caged in his jeans.
     
    “ It’s beautiful,” Maven confessed, she stepped closer, “My mind takes off when I look at artwork. I always want to know the reason behind all of it.”
     
    “ He probably loved her.” Henri turned his head. “Why else would someone paint such a picture?”
     
    Maven searched the tag for a name. “How do you know it was a man?”
     
    “ Just a guess.”
     
    Maven squinted at the blob like signature and gasped. “That’s Sandra’s last name.”
     
    Henri nodded. “Yeah it is. Her grandfather painted many of the paintings in this exhibit.”
     
    Maven was impressed. “Wow, Henri.”
     
    “ Artistic talent runs in the family. I don’t mean to boast, but I’m a great painter myself.” He smiled, moving on to the next painting.
     
    “ Do you have any in here?” Maven couldn’t believe how interesting he was the more she got to know him.
     
    “ Nope. But I have a closet full of old stuff I did a long time ago.” He studied an abstract piece growing quiet.
     
    “ Why don’t you paint anymore?”
     
    “ Have to have a reason to paint. I really don’t have one anymore.”
     
    “ I can draw a little. We should get together sometime and you can paint something.” She smiled at her idea.
     
    “ You.” Henri made a picture frame with his fingers, framing her smiling face with them. “I could paint you.”
     
    “ Okay, you can paint me. And I’ll even bring one of my own sketch books and draw you.”
     
    Henri agreed. “Only if you promise you’ll keep it forever.”
     
    Maven pushed into his arm. “Don’t be silly.”
     
    “ What should I be then?” His eyes held a certain intensity that made her heart skip a beat. She timidly pushed her hair from her eyes.
     
    “ Nothing, I wouldn’t want you to be anything but you.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. Henri turned away, paying attention to the next picture to lighten the mood. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
     
     
     
    At the end of the exhibit she couldn’t help but want it to go on forever.
     
    She sat down on the bench outside of the museum. Henri