"But I'm grabbing these forms before you change your mind. Then, we can get back to that bit of business."* * *One Friday afternoon, our parents took off on another of their weekend trips that had become quite common since Amy and I were both adults now. Amy was looking through a women's magazine on my bed while I was working on a new canvas, painting in a second coat of the background color. She held up the magazine to a photo she wanted me to see."I'm thinking of adding a blue streak to my hair like this. What do you think?"I glanced at her for a moment, and then pensively looked away. I dropped my hand to my crotch and grabbed my package."Yeah, I was right." I nodded, feigning relief. "Just checking."She looked at me, baffled. "Checking what?" Making sure I was still a guy." I smirked. "Why the hell would you think I know anything about women's hair?"She rolled her eyes at me. "I just wanted your opinion, ass."Then she started pointing at me and cackling. Not at the wisecrack, but. Would she ever see the beautiful stranger again? She supposed that there was a slim chance as New York City was not as large as it might seem. Her mind’s eye flashed back to the Getting Started With logo on the woman’s jacket. Was that a company? She would do a little searching. She would also make it her business to visit the museum a bit more often. The following Saturday morning found Solace visiting her family and Rosanna standing on the steps of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. She ran up the steps and through the entrance. She deliberately carried her few items in a small leather pouch, as she was aware that security would be tight and backpacks were discouraged. She walked to the information desk, collected a brochure for the exhibit and made her way through the myriad corridors to her desired goal. She was fascinated by the prints, which were both in bold colors as well as black and white. She wondered at an artist’s decision to create what might be called stereotypical.
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