Heaven Tastes Like Peaches

Krystyna was drinking coffee at a table on the terrace of one of the cafes in the old town. Although Lublin was not such a popular tourist city as Krakow or Warsaw, and students went home on vacation, the streets were teeming with life. The weather was perfect for a family trip or a romantic walk, and Skalska looked at couples of young people holding hands with a hint of nostalgia. Once upon a time, ages ago, she was one of those people too. But her youth was gone, and so was the feeling, she had only memories left.

She left Józef some time ago, but only today was she able to tell her son about it. Despite all the humiliations she had suffered in her marriage for years, the decision to leave her husband was not easy. According to Konrad, she treated her marriage vows too seriously, but Krystyna was already like that - when she swore, she could not break her word, even if the other party was the first to break the contract.

Krystyna Skalska did not plan the sigh that came straight from her heart. She felt sorry for the breakdown of her marriage, but also the freedom that gave her unexpected pleasure.

"So it is you!" She heard a familiar male voice and started in surprise. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I was just surprised to see you."

"Hello, Henryk," she greeted him happily. "Will you join me?"

"Willingly," he took the seat across from her and motioned to the waitress. She appeared almost immediately and accepted his order. "I must admit, Krystyna, you look exceptionally beautiful today."

"Thank you."

Of course, Skalska knew that it was only a compliment spoken through her friend's lips, but she felt good with him anyway. It had been a long time since she had heard from anyone other than her son that she could still consider herself a beautiful woman.

"I thought someone as busy as you didn't have time to walk around the old town," she said.

"For someone like me, these are the best places to work. In May I discovered a brilliant young painter right here not far from selling his works on the street."

"It must be wonderful to work on something you love!"

Henryk looked at her piercingly, making her blush. In her life, she did not work even an hour. She married a wealthy family (she was not poor herself), where her primary role was to present herself well to her husband's side and then raise her son well. She did not regret, of course, that she had devoted almost half of her life to Konrad, because he had grown into a wonderful young man, but she had a certain longing for the possibility of professional fulfillment. It was important to her because, brought up in a family of patrons with several decades of tradition, she sincerely loved art and artists.

"Sorry, Krystyna, but …"

She was afraid of what he was trying to tell her. She will probably hear the same thing as from Józef, that she shouldn't think about stupid things, after all, she knows nothing more than being a housewife.

"… But you should finally get seriously out of the house and start living your own life, not your husband's. You have so much talent to recognize real works of art ..."

He surprised her so much that she was speechless. It took a moment to recover from the shock. Fortunately, at that time the waitress brought the coffee ordered by Henryk, thanks to which Krystyna gained time. She took a deep breath and smiled. It was obvious that Henryk was saying this for her well-being, as when he complimented her appearance.

"Thank you, you're very nice."

"Sławoj's works that you bought are exceptionally beautiful" Hanryk Kowalski took a sip of coffee. "I could never accept the thought that the modern market does not accept them. I know a few people like Sławoj. They are really brilliant, but they cannot adapt to the prevailing fashion. This, of course, only says the best of them as artists, but does not change the fact that many of them suffer poverty. Like Sławoj."

"I agree with you, of course. Actually, the only thing they lack is publicity."

"It's true," he nodded and drank some more. "If there was someone who does not have to worry about money, but loves art and has a lot of free time at his disposal ..."

Krystyna's heart beat faster. Henryk was staring at her insistently, as if he wanted to convey something to her with the intensity of his gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she was confused. "You don't think that I ...?"

"Don't you think that Sławek's poor financial situation could have been avoided if his grandfather's work had been properly appreciated? Imagine an exhibition that presents brilliant works by artists such as Sławoj. With the name of the person organizing the event, who will take care of good press and the right guests, popularizing these works will not be even a challenge. After all, people like you and me or our parents' generation don't necessarily want to surround themselves with modern pieces."

"You sound like you have it all figured out," she said.

"Maybe I have," Henryk agreed. "I have been thinking about it since I learned about the situation of the Domejczuk family. Unfortunately, I am still running out of time and would need a second pair of arms, legs and a second head. Someone who thinks similar to me. Someone like you."

"Don't be kidding, Henryk. I'll take you seriously ..."

"Would there be anything wrong with that?"

"I do not have any experience."

"Just like my apprentices or interns. They only have a theory."

"I don't even have this. Since I studied ..."

He cut her off with a raised hand.

"I will not convince you or ask you. I'll just take you somewhere. Do you have time today? If not, arrange it. You will definitely not regret it."

***

"I think you really like it here" Sławek smiled shyly.

"Of course. You not? What, actually, would you like to leave here? Was the talk about peaches for unrecognizable?"

"I like it, but yes, sometimes I'd like to leave. Not forever, just to see more. Experience something more. Sometimes it feels like I'm stuck with this place forever."

Konrad looked at him surprised. Sławek was calm and the tone of his last words was full of resignation. It would never have occurred to Skalski that in the 21st century someone could think and feel this way, especially someone his age. After all, the world was waiting open. There was no lie or exaggeration in Domejczuk's bright face, however. The boy really meant it.

"You'll have a chance when you go to college," said Konrad. With confidence and a smile he wanted to remove from his heart the sad impression that Sławek's words had left on him. "Are you going to one of the art academies?"

"I can't afford college."

"After all, the daily ones are free!"

"But the dormitory is not. And utensils are expensive."

"But there are scholarships, you know, social and for talented students."

"I doubt that the teachers would like my style. They probably would like to teach me something else, and I like what I do and how."

"Me too" Konrad admitted. "Your works are so vivid and beautiful that they make you think about things you haven't touched upon before."

Sławek did not take up the topic again. He continued walking as if he had not heard Skalski's ambiguous statement at all.

Konrad knew otherwise. He saw him shyly, blushing, glancing away and found that whether he was dealing with a girl or a boy, he had someone absolutely alluring beside him in a dimension beyond all limits.

"And where are you going to study?" Domejczuk asked, snatching him from the fantasy world to which he was leaving.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "I think that an art manager can be an interesting job."

"Art manager?"

"Yes. Then I could promote your work. Though you will probably be well-known by the time I graduate."

"No kidding."

"I'm not kidding. Kowalski is a good art dealer and from what I can see he is taking good care of you. He quickly found your first rich fan."

Sławek smiled faintly, very, very shyly. At the sight of this, Konrad felt butterflies in his heart. How is it possible that someone can have such a charming and alluring smile?

He replied with a decidedly wider smile that showed a full set of white teeth.

How fun it would be to bite lightly on Sławek's neck, he thought, to bite him just behind the ear, right on the hairline. Not hard, of course, this isn't a vampire movie, but just like that, a bit.

Konrad felt his throat go dry and he felt an ardent urge to bite into anything.