I giggle, and after spending almost an hour in the feature exhibition, where he willingly stood hostage while I read all the informational placards, we stroll leisurely through the remaining galleries. Damon slings his arm around my shoulder, keeping me close as we chat companionably.
To my surprise, my boyfriend knows a great deal about this subject and makes intelligent comments on each piece, noticing details and techniques that only a true lover of the arts would. He goes on to describe the use of color, light, and texture in various works, and even points out the careful treatment of the human figure in space when looking at a piece depicting a woman set away in isolation from her tribe.
“Either you’re a bit of an art historian yourself, or you learned very quickly from the exhibition tonight,” I say in a teasing tone, as I look at him with adoration.
“When you find out a pretty girl likes something, you learn everything you can about the topic,” he quickly responds with a wink. I gasp and let out a small giggle, unsure whether he is kidding or not.
“You did not!” I exclaim. But he stays mum. Instead, he pulls me in tight to his chest and plants a kiss atop my forehead.
“Art and architecture have a lot in common, sweetheart. Both are intriguing to me. Studying various art forms only adds to my capabilities as a designer,” he says with a grin. “In fact, my first love was actually the graphic arts. I used to illustrate cartoons when I was a kid.”
My jaw drops open.
“Really? Do you still have some of your old cartoons around?”
Damon shakes his head ruefully.
“No, because my parents have moved so many times that they’ve been lost along the way. But my first drawings weren’t good, anyways. There was one about a duck that often got caught in the sprinkler system.”
I begin to giggle.
“I never thought of you as a guy who was into ducks as protagonists.”
He grins.
“Me neither, but when you’re eight years old, anything goes. It was either that, or a bear that could balance on a high wire. Now, enough about my past as a budding graphic artist. I saw on the map that there is a restaurant on the museum grounds. Want to grab some dinner, honey?”
“Oh yes, I’m starving!” I respond excitedly. “But don’t think I’m forgetting about the duck and the bear!”
He merely chuckles and pats my bottom again as we make our way to the restaurant. Interestingly, the museum restaurant is called Le Canard.
“Wait a minute, doesn’t the name ‘Le Canard’ mean ‘duck’ in French?”
Damon shoots me a droll look.
“It does, honey. I guess my past is coming out of the woodwork, and there’s no getting away from it. But in you go, baby girl. I hear the French have especially delicious oysters, and I want to eat a couple dozen.”
I giggle at his extravagant claim, but indeed, my boyfriend does order a bit of everything from the menu. It’s delicious, and I try my first pair of frog legs, which turn out to taste like chicken. After dinner we order champagne and pair it with a decadent piece of raspberry cheesecake. We are taking turns scooping creamy white and red bites of goodness from the plate, and the conversation has turned to Harlow and Jay-Jay, his grandchildren.
“I just can’t get enough of those kids,” Damon grins. “I always claimed I wouldn’t be one of those corny grandparents that spoils his grandkids rotten, but I can’t help it.” His eyes sparkle as he thinks about Lucy’s children and he flashes the most genuine of smiles. “They’re too cute,” he finishes.
I laugh aloud at this. Not only do I find it adorable how Damon dotes on his grandchildren, but I can relate! Lucy’s kids are my godchildren after all and I spoil them just as rotten as he does.
“I know what you mean,” I giggle. “I recently got Harlow a three-foot high Barbie doll. Lucy groaned when she saw it.”
Damon laughs.
“I didn’t even know they had Barbie dolls that tall,” he remarks while popping another forkful of cheesecake in his mouth.
“Yep,” I nod with satisfaction. “It was a special edition and I wanted to gift Harlow a Barbie because Barbie’s a classic. I know lots of girls are into Bratz and American Girl these days, but I grew up with Barbie and still like her the best.”
Damon chuckles.
“You don’t have a Barbie collection at home, do you, honey?”
I shake my head.
“No. I used to have a lot, but like you, my parents moved often, so all my dolls were probably given away.”
Damon grins.
“Should I get you a Barbie for Christmas this year then?”
I giggle.
“No! Absolutely not! Get one for Harlow though. She and Jay-Jay are truly are lucky to have so many people that care about them.”