Free Happy Hour by Michele Scott

“The best part is that the Sperm Donor told me that she
was a doctor. When I met her, I actually asked her where her medical practice
was located.”
    “Nuh-uh. No, you didn’t,” Alyssa said.
    Kat shrugged. “I couldn’t help it. Poor thing says to me that it’s not a
practice but a salon.”
    “What did the Sperm Donor do?” Jamie asked.
    “Turned bright red, looked at me like I was pure evil, and grabbed Barbie
by the arm while he yelled for the boys to hurry up.”
    “Priceless.” Jamie walked over to the opposite counter and grabbed a
bottle of Pinot Noir from the Oregon coast to open.
    “Now we know Danielle’s and my latest turmoil, how about you two?” Kat
asked. “Alyssa? What’s up?”
    Alyssa shook her head and smiled, setting her glass onto the counter.
“Nothing. I don’t have anything at all really going on.”
    The other women didn’t know Alyssa the way that Jamie did. The introvert
of the group, Alyssa seemed to always tread lightly with them. Even after a
couple of years of knowing her, Jamie still felt like she’d only scratched the
surface. They always included her. They cared about her. Alyssa knew it too,
but evident through sorrow tinged laughter and soft speech, something held on
tightly to Alyssa. Jamie guessed it to be pretty damn heavy for her to keep her
guard up all the time. Jamie, for one, didn’t believe her when she said that
nothing was going on.
    “Nothing at all?” Danielle asked, eyebrows raised. “No man, or men, or
any art sales? How is the painting going?”
    Alyssa shifted in the barstool. “Okay, yeah, you know, I’m working on a
new oil.”
    Jamie clapped her hands. “Stop being so humble. Tell us about it.”
    “It’s another one of the little boy pieces.”
    “In the series?” Danielle asked.
    “Yes.”
    Alyssa had painted two paintings so far of a small African American boy.
In the first he looked to be about a year old crawling through a field of
grapevines, his skin lighter than the soil on the ground, his eyes happy, a
sweet toothless smile on his face. The grapes around him were golden-hued, and
Alyssa captured an innocence and beauty with the sunlight raining down on the
baby and the grapes. In the next painting she’d done, the child looked about
three, but it was clearly the same child. Anyone who saw the paintings
recognized that. This one showed the toddler on his toes, reaching up to pick a
purple grape.
    “What’s this one like?” Jamie asked.
    “You’ll have to wait. When I’m finished, you all need to come by and see
it. I think it’s my favorite,” she replied.
    “Do you know the child that you paint?” Danielle asked.
    Alyssa took a sip of wine and shook her head. “He’s a part of my
imagination.”
    “You know what I think?” Kat said. “I think Alyssa wants a baby.”
    “Ha! No way. I’m not the marrying, family type. I’m not.”
    They all eyed her, and Jamie wondered if her other two friends had the
same thought… Was she trying to convince herself or them?
    “You may be the smartest of us all. You know what? I’ve always been
really interested in drawing. I’m not great at it, but I like it. I was
thinking about dropping in on one of your art classes,” Danielle said. “I’m on
the Harvest Festival committee and I have an idea in mind for the poster. I
might actually try and do the artwork myself.
    “I’m starting a new class in two weeks on Wednesdays from six to eight.
I’ll give you a discount. I know the owner.” Alyssa chuckled.
    “I would love that. Maybe we can grab a bite after.”
    “Oh, do that. Come by our restaurant. I work Wednesdays and Christian has
come up with this terrific new menu. Everything is fresh, organic, super good.”
Kat clucked her tongue.
    “It’s a plan. What about you, J? Can you meet us?” Alyssa asked.
    “I wish I could. But not with Dorothy and Maddie. I can’t go.”
    “Can’t Nora come by?”
    “No. She won’t do extra nights. I’ve asked.” Jamie