The Watercolour Class – Part 2: The Tree
Mature & Silver·EN·2 min read·Published 2026-11-07, updated 2026-11-07·Part 2 of 2
In September, the tree finally came right.
They painted it side by side, as they had every Tuesday since June. The light was late-afternoon gold, lengthening, soft. The terrace was warm, the air golden. The olive tree glowed silver against a pale blue sky, every leaf shimmering. Maureen dabbed the last highlight on her canvas and sat back.
"There," she said.
Jacques said nothing. He stared at his own picture, and then at hers. His eyes were bright.
It was the olive tree. Not a blur, not a bruise. It was silver and gnarled and alive, rooted in golden stone. Maureen's was a little looser, Jacques's more careful, but together they gave the tree a kind of breath.
"It is the tree," he whispered.
"It's the tree."
"Four years."
"Three months for me."
"You are a better teacher than I deserve."
"We're a better class than the instructor deserves."
They put the paintings on the wall to dry. The others had gone. The sun lay low and orange across the terrace, setting the whole village alight. A swallow dipped over the wall. A distant clock struck six, thin and sweet.
"Can I ask you something?" said Jacques.
"Yes."
"I would like to paint something else with you."
"What?"
"Your face," said Jacques. "If you would allow it."
Her throat tightened. "That's the nicest thing anyone's said in years."
"May I kiss you first? It would help me see."
"Yes," said Maureen, laughing. "And if I say stop, you must paint me with a straight nose."
"I am afraid it will be a crooked one."
"I'll hold still."
He kissed her, gentle and slow, a paint-stained hand rising to her cheek. She kissed him back, warm and unhurried, tasting of tea and linseed. The light turned the terrace to amber. The tree glowed silver over their shoulders.
When they parted, both of them were smiling.
"Green?" he asked.
"Green," said Maureen. "Very green."
The portrait took six months. The nose is crooked. It hangs in the kitchen, beside two paintings of the olive tree.
More mature romance stories: Autumn in Quebec · The Quilting Circle · The Silver Ballroom
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