Chapter Text
Clyde has finished his second pear painting. He stands and studies it for a couple of minutes before he is ready to bring it down to the bakery to show Claira. He knows that his wife will be proud of him and that makes him feel happy; it will make him feel like he has done something good with his time. He has put a price tag on the side of the painting and is excited to sell his work. He is happy to show Claira his work, that is until he sees Park in the bakery.
Park stands at the counter, he has just finished delivering everything and now he is having his usual chat with Claira. Clyde interrupts their chat when he opens the door and the little bell goes off. Both Claira and Park turn their heads to see who has entered. Clyde keeps his painting close to his chest, the front of the painting to his chest and the back of the canvas facing them.
“Hello Clyde.” Says Claira, “Is your painting all finished.”
Clyde looks at Park and his stupid smile. “Uh, yes dear, the painting is finished.”
“Another painting,” says Park, “You are a very talented man Clyde. Very good with your hands. I’m sure Claira is happy about that.” Park chuckles at his own joke but Clyde does not laugh and looks at Claira as he speaks to her,
“Yes, well, I’m going to put this painting up to be sold dear. Have any others been sold?”
“Not yet, but the old guy up the street, Lennon, was taking a look. He said he may come back with more change to purchase one for his wife’s birthday that’s coming up.”
Before Clyde can say anything, Park chirps in, “Oh, hey, is that another pear?”
Clyde pauses for a moment before turning to look at him. He sniffles his nose, “Yes, it is another pear.”
“Oh, and it’s a little different from the other, isn’t it? A different angle.”
“Well, that and it’s supposed to have a bit of a different color to it. Is the different color not noticeable?” Clyde starts to second guess his color decisions.
“Clyde, dear, it looks beautiful.” Claira says.
“That would go perfect with my other pear painting you made.”
Clyde is not amused, “What?”
“Yes, I could hang them both up. Maybe they’d look good in the bathroom.”
A scoff comes from Clyde, “The bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Surely, my paintings are worth more than to be placed in some bathroom.”
Claira jumps in, “Clyde, if Park purchases your paintings, he can place them wherever he pleases.” She gives Park a soft smile, “I think it is a great idea Park.”
Clyde grumbles to himself as he sees Park smile. Park walks over to the painting and picks it up, studying it for a moment, “Yes, I think I might just have to buy it, Clyde. It’s excellent. The other one is actually sitting in my shed. Once I buy this one, I’ll be able to hang both of them up.”
“A shed?” Clyde asks. Park nods and Clyde puts his hand on his forehead. To picture his painting in a dirty, old wood shed made his head hurt.
“Yes, I’ll buy this. Maybe I’ll buy a cookie or two as well.” Claira smiles and gets a napkin ready to pick cookies out for him. Park begins to walk towards the counter with the painting but Clyde puts a stop to it. Before really thinking, he grabs a hold of the pear painting that’s in Park’s hand and lightly tugs at it.
Park pauses his steps then looks back at Clyde and gives him an awkward laugh, “Is everything alright, Clyde?”
Clyde still has one hand gripped on the canvas, “No, I- I can’t let you purchase this.” Claira scowls her husband's name quietly but he keeps tugging at the painting, “It is my painting.”
“I thought you said it was for sale?”
“I changed my mind. I want it back.”
“Oh, but I’d really like to buy it, I’d give you extra for it.”
“No, I can’t have you purchasing this. Someone else must buy it. It’s no for you.”
“Clyde enough.” Claira warns. Her husband still tugs at the painting. Park keeps it gripped in his hands.
Another awkward chuckle leaves Park as he says his reply, “Do you have a problem with me? Did I say something? Have I done something wrong?”
Clyde gives it one hard tug, “Many things. Claira is my wife. I don’t like the smile you give her. I don’t like the eyes you give her. You may be a strong, handsome young man but she is my wife. Claira is mine.” Another hard tug from Clyde after his last word is said and he is able to pull it away, but he stumbles back and falls onto the ground. He falls back into the corner where all of his paintings are. As he tries to catch himself before the fall, his hand lands on a painting and it goes right through the canvas, creating a big hole right in the center.
Both Park and Claira rush over to help poor Clyde. He takes Claira hands and stands slowly. When he is on his feet, Claira brushes him off, “Oh, Clyde, are you alright?”
“I’m fine dear, I’m fine.” He turns around and looks down at the paintings he’s knocked over and the one he destroyed, “My painting.” He gets to his knees and picks the painting up.
“Oh man, I really didn’t mean to cause any trouble here.” Park says, “I’ll pay for that painting, I have money to-”
“My painting is destroyed.”
“I’m so terribly sorry.”
“It’s not Park's fault.” Claira mentions, “You just got a little upset and you slipped.”
Park pulls out two fifty dollar bills, “Here, I hope this covers it. I have more if-”
“There’s no need for that.” Claira replies.
Clyde gets back to his feet, “Yes there is a need for that. I have spent so much time on the painting. Claira had played me so many sweet songs on her piano as this was painted and now it’s worth nothing but to be thrown into the garbage. I suppose those nasty racoons can nibble away on it, get all of their diseases spread on it.”
Park hands the money to Claira, “Please, keep the money. I should go now.”
“Park, we can figure this out, you don’t have to leave.”
“No, no, I think I should go. I’ll have your delivery ready in two weeks. I guess I will see you both then.” With that, Park leaves his money with Claira and walks out of the little bakery. It is quiet for a moment, but Clyde mumbles out some words quietly,
“I just didn’t want him to buy that painting is all.”
“I think there’s more to the story than you just not wanting to buy that painting.” Claira lets out a small sigh, “I think you just need to go back home and sit for a minute. Just sit back and think how you will apologize.”
He looks down at the broken painting again, “Are you upset with me?”
“I just want you to go back and do as I said.”
“Oh, you are upset with me.”
“I have to run the bakery. I’ll come home when I’m finished.”
Clyde just nods a little bit, “Okay dear. I will- I will sit and think.”
“Okay, Clyde.”
It’s exactly what Clyde does, he goes home and he sits and he thinks. He is not really thinking about the apology, he is thinking of how he has upset his wife and he is thinking of the painting that is now just a hole. The painting was actually inspired by his sweet wife. It was a painting of a woman in a garden, watering her flowers. The woman didn’t look like Claira because Clyde did not like others having a painting of her in their houses. Whenever he paints pictures of her, he keeps them.
He does not feel like painting, he does not feel like reading, so he decides that he will go out into the backyard and check on the garden. He decides to water the plants for Claira and he picks a few weeds out of the ground for her. Clyde is not a gardener at all. He likes the pretty flowers, but he is never the one to do the planting. His wife loves to plant. She doesn't mind the dirt nor the worms, she just plants away. Later after picking weeds and watering plants, Clyde takes a bath and waits for his wife to come home.
Claira ends up coming home when he is still in the bath. She knows that he is in the bath because she can hear the water quietly swish around as she changes into a different outfit. She walks into the bedroom’s bathroom to find her husband sitting in the bath. Of course he does not mind her coming in, they have seen each other naked before.
“Have you been thinking, Clyde?”
“A little bit.”
“And what is your apology to Park?”
“Well, I haven’t quite figured that portion out yet.”
“Then what have you been doing? What have you been thinking about?”
“I watered your plants, I’ve picked the weeds.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.” Claira notices that he has his head hanging down, “I have thought about you too Claira.” He says.
She kneels down next to the bath, “What’s the matter? Is it about what happened today? Maybe we can fix your painting.”
“There is no way to fix the painting. It is torn.”
“I’m sorry Clyde. But it was just one painting. You have other beautiful ones. Lennon came back and bought one, the one of the piano.”
“That was a good one.”
“Yes, and I’m sure Lennon and his wife love it.” Clyde turns to look at her and smiles softly. Claira puts a hand on his cheek, “Do you promise to give Park an apology? Even just a little one? Oh, please Clyde. The poor boy feels so horrible.”
“If it will make you happy, I suppose I could give him a small one.”
“Yes, it would make me so happy. He is my delivery boy. I need him to collect and carry in all my products.”
“Yes, I know. I just wish I could bring you your things.”
“They are quite heavy. They come in bulk dear. If you lift one of those, you may hurt yourself. You’ve told me those stories about you in gym class back when you were a boy.” She giggles quietly at the memory of the cute story, “You even admitted it yourself that you are not very strong. I would hate for you to hurt yourself Clyde. And all that driving you would have to do to get my products.”
“Not just the products, I wish I could provide for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Claira, all I do is paint.”
“You teach too.”
“I teach my students about paint. It is basically the same thing. I’m nothing like a helpful delivery boy. I’m not anything of the sort. I am nothing but a painter, a man who puts colors on a canvas.”
“Oh, Clyde-”
“I wish I could provide more for you, Claira. You have done so much for me.”
She puts a hand atop of his head, “Don’t say things like that. You are a painter, yes, but I married that painter, didn’t I?”
“Yes, but-”
“I married you because I wanted to marry you. I could have found myself a delivery boy, I could have found myself so many more things, but I didn’t need to. You are not just a painter Clyde, you are an artist.”
“I guess I just feared that you knew that there was better for you out there and you’d leave me.”
“No, no, I would never do that. I love you. I love you and all of the things you make. Everything is just so beautiful.”
“But what do my paintings do for you? They don’t help with anything.”
She holds his face in her hands, “They make me happy Clyde. They make me so happy. I love seeing you paint something from your head. It allows me to see you inside and out. They all are just so beautiful.”
“Even my pears?”
She chuckles, “Yes, even your pears. I love them all.”
“I just worried that I was doing nothing good. Painting pictures is all I know how to do.”
“No, you know how to do other things too.”
“Like?”
“Let’s see, back to when we first got married, you taught me how to cut the lawn. In college, you taught me how to draw and send proper emails. You helped me when I was too shy to speak loud enough. You taught me how to love, Clyde. You know how to love and you introduced that feeling to me for the very first time. You showed me what love really is. It is a very beautiful thing when it is done right, and you’ve done it right.”
He speaks softly and he speaks quietly, “Oh, Claira. You are just so beautiful.”
She puts her forehead on his, keeping his face in between her little hands, “Whatever it is you do, whatever it is you paint, I love you very much and I want you to know that. I will always support you Clyde.”
“Claira, oh Claira, I love you so much.”
His wife kisses him gently on the lips and he kisses her back. They married one another eleven years ago, but the kiss still felt so special, just as special as it did on the day of the wedding. Claira loves Clyde and Clyde loves Claira and that will never change.
After a little while, Clyde pulls his lips away an inch, “Claira?”
“Yes?”
“I would love for this to keep going but this bath water is just oh, so cold.”
Claira just laughs, “Oh, Clyde. Let’s get you out then.”
“Claira?”
“Yes?”
“If you really wanted, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to maybe invite Park over for dinner sometime. That can be my apology.”
Claira smiles, “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She kisses him again. He kisses her back then pulls away again, “Okay, I really have to get out now. I think I am getting goosebumps.”
“We’ll get you out of the bath and we can have something warm for dinner.”
“Tomato soup?”
“If you want tomato soup, we will have tomato soup.”
“Could I help you prepare it?”
“You can help me.”
“I will help you then maybe I will paint a tomato after.”
“You can help me and then you can paint a tomato.” Clyde steps out of the bath and Claira helps him get out and wraps a towel around him.
She helps him dry off then suddenly stops completely and just looks in his eyes. They kiss again, it lasts for quite a while.
“Don’t ever think that you are not enough for me, okay?” Claira’s voice is quiet like a whisper.
Clyde nods, “Okay.”
“I love you Clyde.”
“I love you Claira.”