Page 15 of Crystal Iris #1

Twelve

“One can have no smaller or greater mastery than mastery of oneself.” – Leonardo da Vinci

I t never really makes much sense to call it a spring semester in Boston. It will feel like winter until May. I daydream about a beach vacation as I put on my second layers.

The first day back to school always makes me feel more like a student than a professor—I still get a little nervous. I stayed up late going over my lectures. I need more coffee.

I spot Akira from a mile away. It’s our little joke—our hair; we can find each other anywhere.

“Morning,” she says, handing me a cup.

“Thanks. Next one’s on me.”

I pull her aside. “We have some catching up to do.”

I tell her about the museum.

“You’re talking too fast. Slow down, I can barely keep up,” she says.

“Sorry, we have no time—we’re going to be late for our first day.”

“Whatever, we’re the teachers.”

I try to finish at a more normal pace.

“Has he texted you since?” she asks, drinking her coffee.

“No.” I take a sip of mine.

“You should text him.”

“You think?”

“Do it now.”

safe travels?

good morning

hi

I erase everything I wrote. I have no idea what to say.

“We gotta go.” I put my phone away, and we part ways.

“The Madonna of the Carnation , also known as The Madonna with Child , is a Renaissance oil painting by Leonardo da Vinci. It’s permanently displayed in the Alte Pinakothek in Munich.”

“Really? Another da Vinci?” one student asks.

“Excuse me?” I wasn’t expecting an interruption.

“There are other artists out there who deserve more recognition,” she explains.

“We will cover various artists this semester. What’s your name?”

“Fran Kelly.”

“We aren’t skipping da Vinci, Fran. However, rest assured, you’ll hear about many others in this class. Now, let’s take a look at the carnation Mary is holding. What is the symbolism here?”

“Passion, blood,” says a student in the back. It will take me weeks to learn their names.

“Correct. And baby Jesus is trying to reach for the flower.”

“The baby looks too big,” says a girl with a colorful scarf.

“He does look a little disproportioned. This is probably an early work of da Vinci. He would later master a few things, including the chiaroscuro technique.” I go on about the painting for a while.

I feel better with my first class behind me. I check my phone. I made sure it was tucked away at the bottom of my bag during class so I could focus. No new messages.

I start typing again: Back in the countryside yet? I hit send, put my phone away, and head to the meeting.

Every year, the dean gives his annual talk, and each year, a little more of my soul dies with his hours-long speech.

George sits next to me. He’s always friendly, often finding me at lunch to share his latest papers.

He’s a bit of a show-off, but I like him—he makes me laugh.

Plus, he has great taste in clothes. Today, he’s wearing a beautiful wool vest that I’m sure has to be vintage. A Scottish flat cap completes the look.

“How are you?” he asks me.

“I’m good. My first group seemed enthusiastic. Yours?”

“Yeah, but they all do on the first day. Then they slowly start to drop out.”

I laugh. “True. How’s the renovation going?”

“The contractor is out to get me, I swear. Every day, he comes up with something else that needs to be done. It’s a money pit, but I can’t help it—I love that house.”

Bethany looks back at us. Our lack of respect for the dean is bothering her.

“Sorry,” I whisper to her and wink at George.

We’re on the hundredth slide when I excuse myself to the bathroom. I check my phone again.

Just arrived. The weather is not much better here.

We’re talking about the weather now? I reply.

You are tough to please, aren’t you, firecracker? he sends immediately.

Firecracker?

Seems appropriate.

You don’t know me well enough to give me a nickname.

I just did.

I send an emoji: eyes rolled.

He sends one back: smiley face .

Do you ever come to the country? he asks.

I’ve been to California.

California doesn’t count.

There was grass, and trees… and wine.

I live in Montana. California is a whole different beast.

Never been.

He sends a photo of his horse by the mountains.

Looks beautiful.

You should come visit sometime.

Maybe I will , I type. Heading back to my meeting.

Say hello to all the nerds for me.

There are too many.

He sends a laughing face.

My second class is upstairs. I prefer the classrooms on the first floor; they’re older but bigger. The ones upstairs feel stuffy. My nose crinkles as I open the door that’s been shut for too long; it smells moldy, and it’s too cold to open the windows.

There are only ten students in my HAA 259G – Caravaggio: Light and Shadow, Life and Death class.

I love teaching this one, mostly because it’s an elective—only those who are truly passionate about art sign up.

They’re my kind of students, the ones who aren’t just here to get a degree.

I’m about to start referencing the Italian painter known for his dramatic use of chiaroscuro when a familiar student walks in.

“Hi Stella. Take a seat.”

She’s cut her hair.

“I’m sorry I’m late. I was in the wrong classroom.”

“No worries, we just got started.”

I realize, for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling… happy. Being back at work keeps me grounded. Nothing makes me smile more than talking about art, though I know the bubbly feeling has something to with something else, someone else.

Hoyt texts me that evening and every day since.

How was your day?

Okay, for a first day back. Yours?

Never thought I’d be missing Boston.

Good luck today.

Lawyers are the worst.

You’ll be fine.

Did you find the book?

Someone got it first. You gotta be fast around here.

Nerds.

That sounds awful.

I’ve had worse. You get used to stitches when you grow up on a ranch.

Hangover?

We only went for the music.

Liar.

Even the light from my phone screen is too much.

That’s beautiful.

You should come see it in person; there’s nothing like the sunset over the mountains.

Tempting.

Again?

Stop judging me.

But it’s so fun.

Shitty day… just swirling some poison in a cup.

Sorry, I’ll have one too… in your honor.

Somehow, that makes me feel better.

Firecracker.

***

What’s your favorite color?

White. Why?

Just trying to get to know you better.

Yours?

Blue.

Like the ocean?

You know me well already.

Favorite artist?

Jan van Eyck.

Animal?

Dogs. Yours? Horses?

Correct. You didn’t ask me about my favorite artist.

I didn’t think you had one. Sorry.

Just kidding, I don’t. I barely know any.

We’ll have to change that.

We?

Stupid city traffic. I’m gonna be late again.

You know where there isn’t any traffic? Montana.

Are you serious?

No, yes.

Which is it?

You’ll have to come and find out.

Don’t you sleep?

Not well.

Why?

Life.

We’ll have to change that.

What are you doing this weekend ?

Reading. You?

Riding.

Wish you were here.

Sorry about last night’s text, had one too many.

Sometimes I wish I was there too.

Are you drunk?

It’s nine a.m.

Are you still drunk?

Funny.

Favorite drink?

Whiskey. Yours?

Same.

How was the movie?

Don’t recommend.

They don’t make good movies anymore.

Agree. It’s the popcorn that keeps getting better.

Any cavities?

No, I even got a lollipop .

Good boy.

Why not?

Can’t stop thinking about you.

Don’t.

I’m sorry.

How was your day?

Okay, I’m tired. Stayed up late reading again. Can’t wait for the break.

I know a great place to unwind during the break.

Let me guess…

What the hell!

I’m taking them down. Never been much of a fan of dead animals watching me. I kept one though; he seems peaceful.

I’m gonna have a nightmare now.

Did you?

What?

Have a nightmare?

No.

It’s after midnight and you just replied.

Can’t sleep. You?

I have friends over.

Party?

Just dinner, it’s my birthday.

Happy birthday! Go be with them!

I prefer talking to you.

Enjoy your party, goodnight.

How was yoga?

Exactly what I needed.

Maybe I will try it sometime.

Seriously?

No. I can’t even touch my toes.

It’s all about practice.

Are you offering to teach me? Professor De Loughery.

Which one?

The one on the right.

Why?

Looks cozier.

It’s a truck.

I’ve never bought a truck before.

But you’ve seen one before, right? Cozy is not a thing.

The back seat looks bigger, more space, cozier. The leather looks softer, cozier. The lighting is dimmer, cozier…

Cozier it is.

“What’s he saying that’s so important you can’t even talk to me?” Akira asks, annoyed, glaring at me across the café table.

“Sorry.” I put my phone down, only to pick it up again.

Akira’s jealous of the texting.

Tell her I don’t like to share you either.

I don’t reply.

As your friend, he sends right after.

I send a sticking-tongue-out emoji .

She’s still staring at me.

“Sorry!” I put the phone away for good this time.

“Iris, have you talked to Aaron yet?”

“I’ve been busy with my classes and all.”

“Iris.”

“I know! I will.”

“Have you learned anything related to the prisms, or are you and Hoyt just… gossiping?” She’s swirling her soup.

“We’ve been keeping it… casual.”

“Casual? You’re wasting time.”

“What are you talking about? What’s the rush?”

“I thought you were gathering facts.”

“I am.” I take a bite of my garden salad.

“What have you found out then?” she presses again.

“Well, I know his brother’s prism made him… lose his mind. He was hearing voices.”

“We already knew that. What else?”

“I don’t know how to ask him questions without seeming…”

“Interested?”

“Invasive.”

“You need to cut right to it. Does he even know you were at his place? Can his prism do this too?”

I glance around to see if anyone else can hear us, but we’re alone at the corner table.

“I don’t know. I can’t just say, ‘Hey, by the way, my prism can transport me to you.’”

“Why not? Maybe he’s been spying on you this entire time too.”

The thought had occurred to me. Many times.

“I don’t think so.”

“But you don’t know for sure.”

I try to keep eating. I have to be in the classroom in half an hour .

“Would you go with me to… Montana?” I ask between bites.

“What? Why? When?”

“Spring break.”

February flies by with my lectures at Harvard and the yoga classes I’ve started attending again.

Aaron’s gone for days on business in Asia, and when he’s home, he’s jet-lagged.

Akira’s dating someone new, leaving me texting Hoyt during my free time.

I decide to get back to the yoga studio, realizing the anticipation for his replies is becoming…

unhealthy. We never talk about anything serious; it’s like we’re both afraid to ruin what we have going on.

It’s spring break next week , I text him after breakfast.

Any plans? I see his reply before I leave the house.

Depends on what you say next.

? he replies seconds later.

Are you free next week?

As in… coming to Boston?

No, as in, me coming to Montana.

Seriously?

Akira would come with me.

I will be here , he says.

I was expecting a little more… emotion?

He sends a heart emoji.

I send my usual rolled eyes one.

Can you recommend a hotel? I ask.

You guys can stay here. Plenty of room.

I squirm in my seat. I don’t know…

He sends a picture of the house.

That’s your house?

Yep.

If I didn’t know his family had that kind of money, I would have thought he’d sent a picture of a fancy lodge. The mountains I saw when I visited him with my prism are visible in the background.

Wow.

Plenty of room , he texts.

I’ll ask her.

Let me know, firecracker.