Dark Blue Paint

          I was married in the autumn, two years ago, in that prime week after the leaves have turned fiery red and orange but not yet fallen and the chill breeze dances through them, brisk and excited. I was married then, because the beautiful aspects of this particular season bring out the best in my wife, Josaline. She's two years my junior, just turned twenty-six less than three months after my twenty-eighth. I let my wife pick the day, the location and the general details of the wedding itself, not because I had no desire to help, but because I knew it was better off in her hands. That was one of my better judgments.
The wedding was held outdoors, on a perfect autumn day, still warm for the season with that remarkable, irrepressible breeze. We'd written our own vows, Josaline, beginning her career as a writer, left a few teary eyes in the crowd of seventy-five people. After a gorgeous honeymoon in the Caribbean, we reluctantly took up our new lives as husband and wife. We decided upon an apartment building within our price range, and a modest two-bedroom place of our own. I do not use the word 'modest' lightly. The hardwood floor, on my guess, was at least once, infected with termites, and never polished in its life, though I fancied it had seen more than its fair share of throw rugs. The walls were dingy white, with a rather cracked appearance and the doors did not squeak. They shrieked. Not exactly the life we were used to, it was an adjustment.
Josaline took up a job with a local news paper, eventually, she'd move her way up into move prestigious magazines. However, with her occupation, she stayed at home, while I went into the world a brand new architect. In an effort to disguise the sub standard appearance of our home, Josaline and I went 'craft' shopping for cheap knick-knacks that might cheer it up a bit. One of the first things my new bride laid her eyes on was paint. The color was a dark blue, oceanic. I was leery, having read somewhere that dark colors make the room feel smaller. But my wife loved it. She had never painted before by means of brush or sponge, but she liked the textured effect, and purchased a few sponges as well.
For the good part of the following week, I observed her small hands touching the sponge into the paint, then to the wall, applying technique she'd never learned with expertise. In addition to her working, I saw the other subtle changes. She didn't work in silence; she often hummed, or sang aloud with a CD or radio. The windows were always wide, despite the weather- more than one rainy day- the breeze following her hopefully. I couldn't watch her a moment without realizing the stunning effect it had on her; for no apparent reason it all, it made her happy.
By the Friday of that week, she'd nearly finished her final wall. As I entered the room, I did not get the sudden sensation that I had swallowed one of potions from Alice and Wonderland- the room did not shrink before my eyes. My fears were soothed. She had only a few square feet left to cover of the bare wall, working rhythmically and steadily. "I have to ask," I told her, taking a seat on the out-of-place chair in the center of the room. "What is it, about that color that makes you so happy?"
Her eyes turned on, a smile broadening over her lips as she chuckled quietly, seated on the floor, sponging at the bare corner of the wall. "Haven't you noticed it, Matt?" She asked me, gently chiding. "It's the same color as your eyes."
I sat there, stunned for only a moment. Recovering, I moved out of the chair and came to her side to help her complete the last few inches of the wall in dark blue paint.
Since then, we've had family members come to call; old friends come to dine with us, or to see our place. That's always been my favorite room to show them, completed now in a theme on her color. Especially those who know my creative wife- or attended our wedding- always look to Josaline, and repeat the question. "Did you this all by yourself?"
Her eyes turn to mine, smiling bashfully in a modest beam. "Oh, no." She shakes her head, her eyes deep in mine. "I had a lot of help."