The Keeper

Dean's Wife Makes a Discovery

Dean smiled to himself as he buried his note in the grass and looped back to the path. He'd seen most of his students drinking in the pubs around town, and many of them were sure to drink a glass or two if their parents weren't watching. A glass or two would be fine.

He carried on home, opened the door, and his good cheer evaporated. Kristina was home.

He forced a smile. "No book group tonight?"

"We've pushed it back to Friday." The tone of her voice was colder than normal – which was like sleet in February. "I found this in your shed." Kristina was holding out Martha's painting of him as if it were something she had found in a drain.

A punch to the gut, but not fatal. "What were you doing there?"

"Is it by one of your students?" she sneered.

"Yes, it is." Dean kicked himself for not being fastidious about locking his shed. Kristina had never shown an interest in it before.

Kristina turned the canvas around, took a big gulp of wine, and looked down her nose at the painting. "Is this what you teach your students to do?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Techniques, composition, how to see and interpret a subject."

"This student must be blind then. I mean, you can see it's you, but she hasn't captured your essence, has she? It doesn't have the negativity, the failure, that desperate look you have."

"I guess people who live together reflect each other over time, don't they?"

Kristina let the painting flutter to the table, picked up her glass of wine and slammed it onto the canvas, twisting the glass as she stared at Dean. "Maybe you're right."

Dean snatched the painting away, letting the glass fall back into Kristina's fingers and wine splash onto her silk blouse. She shrieked, cursing him as he turned around, walking out of the door before he could do anything he might truly regret. He had to keep his distance, bide his time until the year was out.