Something that not a lot of people knew was that Mildred was an avid painter, or well…used to be. She had gotten into the art at one of her foster homes as a child and found that it gave her a great outlet away from all the troubles in her childhood. She had gotten pretty good at it too until she and Edmund were separated. As she moved her focus away from her own life and into finding Edmund, she found that her paintbrushes went largely untouched. That is… until she met Gwendolyn.
As she started spending more time with the redhead, Mildred began feeling the urge to create. It started with doodles on the backs of napkins and paper menus while they would talk at dinner or at the bar. Mildred would draw everything around her, from the glass her drink was in, to the face of the waiter that happened to be serving them that day. Gwendolyn would sit there, transfixed by the motion of pen on paper. She started carrying around spare pens and pencils for Mildred to use when she would get the notion to sketch on their dates.
Gwendolyn didn’t mind the habit. It was actually the total opposite. Gwendolyn was a firm believer in the power of the arts as a healing tool, and she knew Mildred had a dark and saddening past. She admired Mildred’s talents, and wanted to condone her artistic side as much as possible. So much so that when they had moved to Mexico, Gwendolyn had surprised her lover with a plethora of art supplies and a dedicated space for all her creative outlets. Mildred had been so deeply moved by the gesture so much that she dedicated her next project to Gwendolyn: an orange marigold.
One day, Gwendolyn had had a particularly long day. He doctor’s visit had felt like a moot point, just more of the same and with no new updates on her health. She had hit every red light going both ways and was ready for multiple glasses of wine by the time she arrived home.
She opened the door to soft music coming from the back part of the house. The windows were all open, letting the autumn breeze into the home and giving it a bit of a chill. “Mildred must be painting,” she thought. She smiled softly, setting her things down in the entryway and shedding her fall coat. She walked slowly through the house, checking the mail pile from the day before heading toward the sound of the music.
When she finally found the other woman, she couldn’t help but smile. The brunette had her hair in a messy bun, tendrils falling around her face, paint marking a spot on her forehead and cheek. Mildred had the end of a paintbrush in her mouth, staring at her large canvas with a puzzled look on her face.
Gwendolyn remembered a few months back when Mildred had told her about her next project idea. She wanted a large piece to place above their bed. Gwendolyn knew it would be a lot of work, but she applauded the idea, even going so far as to purchase the large canvas from a specialty store.
As she blinked back into the present, she scanned over the woman, taking in her attire. She was in what Gwendolyn could only describe as “painting clothes,” which consisted of an oversized men’s t-shirt with “Harvard University” scrawled across the back, and a pair of worn denim shorts that reached mid-thigh. “God she’s adorable,” Gwendolyn thought, taking extra time to appreciate the amount of leg currently on display.
She cleared her throat softly, alerting the other woman to her presence. Mildred jumped slightly at the noise, turning quickly to look for the source of the sound, a smile replacing her briefly worried look when brown eyes met blue ones.
“Have you just been standing there gawking at me?” Mildred teased as Gwendolyn made her way across the room.
“Oh, I just got in, darling. But I don’t think it would hurt for me to just stand here and gawk some more, now would it?” Gwendolyn teased back, kissing the other woman sweetly. She turned to stand beside the brunette, both of them looking at the painting in progress.
“So, what’s the idea?” Gwendolyn asked, taking in the random shapes and colors that seemed to be aimlessly splotched across the piece.
“I’ve been thinking about an African savannah, with various animals across here,” she said as she pointed to one of the splotches. “And maybe a river over here,” she mused, pointing to another area of the piece. “What do you think?” she asked, obviously not yet sold on the idea.
Gwendolyn smiled, now able to see a little sense in the madness. “I think that would be lovely, darling. But you do whatever it is that sounds best. I trust you,” the older woman said without second thought.
Mildred looked over at Gwendolyn then. “Yea?”
Gwendolyn nodded, meeting her partner’s gaze. “Yes, darling. Always have, always will.”