The more Sadie talked, the more I felt sucked into my new chapter in life. She could push me in the right direction. As we got in the elevator, I thought about Jess. Part of me really wanted to call him, but I knew it was time to get used to having a life outside of each other.
Chapter 26
Today, 1:33 a.m.
I wait impatiently, for my father to return. The beauty queen watches me silently from the other side of the room. Lifting up the spoon, I struggle to swallow another bite of chicken noodle soup. I will it to stay in my stomach, knowing the importance of food right now.
My father comes in the door, but says nothing. His jaw clenches as he reaches up to scratch his solid, gray head. I take another bite to show I am eating. Gagging, I force the liquid to go down my throat. His tired eyes watch me in the chair. “I think you should just rest a little longer, Pumpkin.”
“Why? Just get a wheelchair and get me the hell out of this room.”
“You’re still not feeling very well. I…um, think you should just stay here. Try to sleep again.”
“You want me to just go to sleep? No Dad, I need to see Dr. Mason.” He absently slips his eyes toward the beauty queen and then back to me. He wasn’t telling me something. “You have to stop lying to me…you have to stop, Dad. Just take me to see him and then…I’ll lay down again.”
“I’m sorry. He’s not here.”
“What? Where is he?”
“Look. I think…”
“Shut up!”
My words hit my father like arrows. I hoist myself from the chair and stumble out the door. I hear his feet coming up behind me. I cut to the left and through an empty side hallway. I know the passage ways better than him. I find a flight of stairs and make my way down and around a corner.
The waiting room sat empty except for a lone man in the back corner. They were gone; every last one of them. I pound on the desk with my fist. The frizzy-haired woman glances up. She freezes, seeing my face.
“Where’s Dr. Mason.”
“Um, he’s not here, ma’am.”
“Where is he?”
“He’s in Dallas, ma’am.”
Fear cripples me at the ankles. I slide down the side of the counter. My father watches a few steps away. “I’m sorry, Pumpkin.”
“Why are you doing this to me? You know how…how important.”
I rub my raw eyes, feeling the dizziness in my head. It hurts so incredibly bad. Biting down on my lip, I feel the comfort of the sharp pain. I clench tighter and tighter to take away the raw ache inside my chest. The metallic taste of blood coats my tongue.
“I’m just trying to protect you. You are not handling this very well and I just thought being here was better for now.
“Like you can say anything about handling things,” I snarl at him. “I was there, Dad. Remember? I was there. You stopped existing. You stopped and…”
His face twists up in sadness before I could even get the words out. I want to blame everything on him but I knew it would make nothing better. Yelling cruel words made no difference right now.
“Your friend called back.”
“What?” In my fog of misery, I fail to see the beauty queen approach in her silent nurse shoes. She sits down next to me on the floor.
“Your friend. She said her plane should get in around nine in the mornin’. It’s the earliest one she could get out of Chicago.”
“Sadie’s coming here?”
“Yeah.”
“How? I don’t understand.”
“Your dad had me call her.”
Looking up at my sad father, I watch him swallow hard, his Adam’s apple shifting in his throat. He was trying. He was trying so very hard to help me right now because he did know. My father was handling things for me while I could not bear to face this chapter of my life.
“You called Sadie and she’s coming?” I peer back at the beauty queen as she nods yes. “But she had um, she um had the campaign dinner. It was yesterday or today or tomorrow. I don’t know. She’s coming?”
“She was upset about not getting one earlier, but she wants you to know that she’s comin’ into Dallas.”
“I’ll get the truck.” My father mutters in a gruff voice before exiting through the revolving door.
I turn back to the girl sitting next to me, knowing our paths were about to split again as I left the hospital. Her eyes sparkle with tears. “Alex, I’m really sorry.”
Never in a thousand years did I ever think I would receive an ounce of comfort from those shiny lips. She leans over and wraps her small arms around my body. I let myself relax against her warmth, clinging to her as we sit on the floor of the hospital waiting room.
I whisper against her shoulder, “Thank you, Ashley.”
“If you need anythin’…when, um, you get back…maybe…I could do somethin’.”
“That would be nice.” I swallow hard, feeling my tears roll down in Ashley’s pretty hair.
Chapter 27
When I was nineteen…
It finally happened. My diary sat exposed to an entire room of snarky critics. My eyes moved from one image to the next, seeing my gray drawings on the wall of the gallery. They all served as a reminder that my soul was charcoal, which came in the form of a pencil I used to sketch the details.
Looking across the room, I stopped on the smile of my blue-eyed boy. Tonight was essentially Jess's grand idea; one that caused a deep inner struggle. I had five drawings in Gallery 51’s spring exhibition because he insisted that I enter the competition. I was the only freshman who made the cut.
Over the last year, I lived the typical college life, at least the one of an honor student. I juggled classes, attended the occasional party, and crammed for tests over boxes of late night pizza. Sadie joined the campus debate team and convinced me to dabble in an assortment of other groups. With the help of my new roommate, my life morphed into a new one outside of Arlis, with one exception.
My friendship with Jess intrigued Sadie. She didn’t believe in the concept of having a male best friend. Every time she brought it up, I swore Jess and I had known each other for so long, our relationship was far past anything romantic. I never convinced those hazel eyes it was true. Despite her persistent questions, she liked Jess and found him quite charming.
On most days, I actually enjoyed having Sadie as a roommate. She added a motivational drive to the atmosphere in the room. Her presence alone, pushed me in directions I didn’t think possible. I shared Sadie’s outlook of hard work and determination, and easily adapted to her purpose driven goals for the future.
In the light of my new life, I never told Sadie the details about my past in Arlis. I enjoyed being free of the baggage. Sadie was too intelligent to believe I presented the full picture. She probed with questions, but at this point in the friendship, she never tried to dig deep into an unwanted pit. Regardless, I knew how she operated. Sadie was buying her time, waiting for the kill.
Jess got deeply involved with his fraternity. Even with our new lives and different schedules, we squeezed in an occasional dinner and random cups of coffee every few days.
On a cold afternoon in January, Jess brought an artsy flyer to wave in my face. Gallery 51 was reviewing pieces for the spring artist exhibition. The show was geared toward the indie college crowd, but it was still an actual competition at the upscale bar turned retro art house. He had pestered and harassed until I submitted my entries. I had expected to be declined by the snooty judges. To my surprise, I made the cut for the spring show. Ten artists had received the green light; each submitting five separate pieces, making fifty entries for the showcase award tonight.
Walking over to Jess, I stood beside him as he looked at my work. He smiled like a kid in a candy store, who just found a package of Skittles the size of a garbage bag. It was the same grin I captured in my drawing of him, fishing next to a pond at Sprayberry. The gallery required each entry be available for purchase. A sale seemed outside the realm of plausible outcomes for my ar
twork. Nonetheless, Flecks of Blue had a price tag on it.
“Is it weird to think someone might have a picture of you hanging up in their house?”
His eyes absently sweep down my body, looking at my party outfit put together by Sadie. “I don’t mind, it’s more of a landscape anyway.”
“I guess so.”
“Besides, I have the original. Who cares if they get that one.”
“The original?”
“The first one you tried by the pond, remember?”
“That awful thing?” I laughed, thinking about my first attempt when I was twelve. “You still have it?”
“Are you kiddin'? How could I get rid of somethin' like that? Perfect blackmail,” he smirked.
“You would.”
“Actually…” He leaned in close to my ear, his lips touching my hair as he whispered. “I have all of your originals, even the ones on the napkins.”
“What? How…did you.” The words stumbled in confusion. My heart beat a little faster, seeing flashes of all the times he cleared the table at Jeeter's. I assumed the napkin doodles went in the trash with the ketchup packets. My skin got warm thinking of Jess saving something so trivial. The thoughts made me want to wrap my arms around his shoulders, squeezing tight. Instead, I absently bit my lip, trying to focus on something else.
We kept our physical interactions to a minimum. On my part at least, it was intentional. He had kept his word and never tried to kiss me again. Tonight was hard. Even though he wasn’t touching me, Jess didn’t bother to hide his true feelings. They were as clear as his blue eyes. It was all very confusing because my heart wanted to thank him for always believing in me.
“You look pretty tonight,” he whispered next to my cheek.
“Thank you. Sadie made me wear her clothes. The dress is too short.”
“I kind of like it that way,” he grinned and my face got hot. Stepping back to his own personal space, he pointed at my last entry. “Does Uncle Frank know 'bout that one?”
“Um, no,” I shook my head. I’m sure Frank would spit fire on the ground from both my drawing and the retro hipster attendees at Gallery 51. I could hear his Marlboro voice muttering, nothin’ but a bunch of damn hippies standin’ around while there’s work to be done.
With his question, I reflected back across the showcase entries. Flecks of Red featured Jeeter's with only the outline of the neon sign and tail lights in crimson. Flecks of Green displayed an entire wooded landscape with a single green tree. Flecks of Blue showcased a teenage boy fishing by a pond. Flecks of Orange highlighted a faded sunset over the old farmhouse and a lone, orange kitten on the porch.
Flecks of Yellow was the one in question by Jess. It featured a cowboy on a horse, standing in the yellow meadow grass. I captured Frank's rugged face, complete with cigarette dangling from his lips, and his yellow tinted hat and handkerchief tucked into his pocket.
“I think you got a shot with the one of Frank.”
“Maybe.”
“I took a picture of it on my cell phone. I’m plannin’ to show it to him. I can’t wait to see his reaction when I make him look at it on my devil box.”
“That’s just great. You’re going to torment Frank with my drawing of him.” I smiled, shaking my head. “But really, you think I could actually win?”
“Yeah, I do and I’m not just sayin’ that.”
“Thanks…I mean it. I would have never done this without you.”
“You’re beautiful and smart and insanely talented, Al.” He pushed a piece of my hair back behind my ear. “I just wish you saw yourself the way I see you.”
I froze. My heart beat a little faster, hearing his soft words and seeing his eyes get a little dark on the edges. The feeling happened again. I wanted to hold him tight against me. Looking away, I searched the gallery for my father, Caroline, and the Masons. They were alone somewhere in a sea of men in skinny jeans.
“We um…should probably go find the rest of them,” I suggested.
“I guess.” He let out a deep breath and smiled. “Mother is probably ready to shit some bricks.”
“Pearlized ones,” I laughed faintly.
“Are you Alexandra?” I turned around to find an older man in a suit with curly spirals of hair clipped close to his skull. He stood about six inches shorter than my accelerated height.
“Yes?”
“I’m Professor Lynch. I work in the university’s art department. Mind if we visit?”
“Hey Al, I’ll go find ‘em,” Jess excused himself.
I shifted nervously in front of the professor, wishing Sadie had not insisted I wear these damn heels for the show. They hurt and I bobbled around like an anxious giraffe.
“Alexandra, I haven’t seen you enrolled in any of the department classes.”
“I’m a business major.” I’d seen plenty of art teachers with eccentric quirts. Pascal Frasier, my old teacher in Fort Worth, was beyond strange. However, Professor Lynch wore a jacket and glasses and seemed relatively normal.
“But nothing in the art department?”
“I guess I never thought about it. I’m in the honors program.”
“You still have the rough edges of a young amateur, but excellent potential. I see something in these.” The professor looked at me closely. “I’m not sure the others see it.”
“I um, don’t understand?”
“Take the one with the tree. Some would say it’s a simple landscape with an off-center oak lit up like a pine on Christmas Day. Instead, I see a lone sapling that doesn't seem like it belongs with the shared dirt the tall tree was forced to grow in. The sprouting limbs seem to push out, keeping the surroundings at a distance.”
My stomach dropped a little as I tried to look away. I bit down hard on my lip and focused on the knot of his tie. He seemed to pay no attention and continued to the next one.
“And in Flecks of Red, that’s an interesting choice of color to bring to the front. I see many facets of the rainbow in the building. The letters of the store sign itself are old yellow bulbs. But you picked to highlight the red outline. Red usually means love and passion or sometimes anger and violence.”
I felt sick. I didn’t like this one bit. Who was this person reading my pictures like a deck of tarot cards? I hoped he stayed clear of the blue highlights surrounding the pond and the boy fishing. My insides couldn't take a breakdown of that image.
“Do I have your attention now? There’s a unique style but you have something deeper hidden beneath the simple sketches. I see emotion and vulnerability. That’s a natural talent, which can’t be taught. Here's my card. Stop by and we can discuss next semester. Maybe you should look at doing both.”
“Ok, I'll think about it.” A pressing weight in my chest seemed to push the words out.
“That's fine. Think about it. Dream about it. Whatever it takes for you to accept it’s the right decision. It would be a shame for your talent to go to waste.”
“Thank you.”
I left in search of the others feeling very confused. I talked briefly to Sadie, who was engrossed in a discussion with a shaggy-haired political science major, wearing a white shirt, tie, skinny jeans, and tennis shoes. Not an odd combination for the room, but something out of the ordinary for Sadie. Yet, she never passed up a good conversation involving foreign policies. This room was prime fodder for Sadie to find a kindred spirit.
Making my way through the crowd, I located the others. Jess didn’t see me approaching, but I heard the low words spoken in a heated exchange with Mrs. Mason. Pin pricks etched up my back at the implications of the conversation. I wished I’d never heard it.
Brushing past them, I made my way to the front for the showcase award. I tasted the nervous bile forming in my throat. What if I won? What if I didn’t? The news came with a bittersweet ending. Maybe I wanted it more than I realized. My hopes were crushed by a portrait of used tissues, which featured painted tears that symbolized dying Ethiopian children.
“I’m s
orry, Al.” Jess wrapped an arm around my back for a side squeeze. It felt almost as good as the one I fought to give his body earlier in the evening.
“It’s ok.”
“You’ll get them next time, Pumpkin.” My dad patted me on the shoulder, trying to reassure me in his own way.
“Thanks, Dad.” I noticed his hand was intertwined with Caroline’s. The sight made me feel happy.
“I always knew you’d be a star. I framed a few and put ‘em up by the register. Can’t wait for you to see ‘em.”
“You didn’t have to do that, Caroline. Thank you.” I gave her a tight, sincere hug. She felt small beneath my arms, like I could crush her if I pressed too tightly.
“You have nothing to be ashamed of tonight, Alexandra.” I turned my full upright attention to Mrs. Mason, who looked extremely out of place in her pale pink, silk suit. I held back a chuckle when I glanced at the pearl necklace wound tight around her elegant throat.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“You are doing an excellent job in school and your pictures captured the ranch beautifully.” The drawn out words stabbed me in the chest. Every syllable stressed dollar signs on my conscience in direct correlation to my school performance.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
My eyes flickered over to Dr. Mason, who nodded in agreement. He was always the quiet sort; very warm and patient. His kind blue eyes always reminded me of Jess. They were outlined in dark lashes, identical to his son’s.
Jess and I walked the group to the car for their drive back to Arlis. After many goodbyes, I got in the truck with Jess. I plopped down in the tan leather passenger seat, putting Sadie’s jewel-encrusted pumps on the dash. As we left the parking lot, I rolled down the window, feeling the cool breeze hit me in the face.
“Wanna go somewhere? It’s not that late.” His deep voice caught my attention, as he leaned back behind the wheel, driving with his right wrist.
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