“So are you taking some kind of sabbatical right now while you visit your friends?” Mary asked, taking the cup Andrew had poured for her.

“Not exactly,” he said, thinking of his unfinished book of original poems, suspended ever since the day Katherine and David died. He’d been planning a sabbatical to work on it. “The university was quite generous in giving me ample time for my recovery.”

“Is your leg healing well?”

“Progress has been slow, but they think I’ll manage without the cane eventually.”

After their food arrived, they talked of their special interests in their respective fields. Andrew mentioned his study of the work of Robert Burns, Scotland’s most well-known poet.

“I’m afraid I have a hard time with Burns,” Mary confessed. “It’s that dialect and all those contractions that I can’t fathom. I just give up.”

Andrew smiled. “If you’re not familiar with the Scots it can be hard to get your tongue around. But then, when it comes to painting, I have difficulty with Picasso. I mean, what man would depict a woman with all her anatomy out of place? It’s like a—a map with all the geography gone wrong!”

“So—you must be a realist when it comes to art.”

“Well, it’s no way to paint a female.” He shook his head, making a face.

“How would you do it?” she asked. “I mean, paint a woman?”

Andrew paused over his chips, his lower jaw sticking out to one side as he carefully considered his answer. “Well, first everything would be in its proper place—where it belongs naturally, uh—on her body, and she would have curves, not angles. No—she would be soft, flowing, full of life. Like the Tay out there. I’d paint her like a river.”

His eyes had slid over her as he talked, making her face burn. She smiled at him nervously. “My. You’re waxing poetic on me,” she said, hoping he hadn’t noticed her reaction.

“I haven’t been inspired for a long time.” His gaze held hers for what seemed a lengthy moment. Today her eyes looked more blue than green, he thought. Suddenly he looked away, clearing his throat. “Well, what do I know about painting, anyway. That’s your department. I should—uh, let you get back to your drawing.”