by Terra Wolf
I sat down next to my mom. “Well, that went well.”
“About as well as I expected, I suppose.” My mom pinched the bridge of her nose. “What are we going to do with her? She can’t be here alone.”
“Mom, I already have a solution to that. Please, just let her calm down a bit and then we’ll talk to her about it.”
“Fine,” she agreed, “but don’t get your hopes up.”
“Don’t worry Mom, I won’t.”
We spent the next ten or fifteen minutes cleaning up Gran’s kitchen. We were just putting the cooling rack away when Gran walked back in.
“My my, you do not have to do that. But I can sure get used to a little bit of help,” she added looking directly at me.
I wondered at the time if she knew what was coming, she always seemed to have a sixth sense about these things. Picking up the phone before it would ring or knowing who was on the other end without caller ID. Answering the door just two seconds before the doorbell would ring, was just kind of her thing. She made it really hard not to tell the truth when you broke a vase playing baseball in the house, after she reminded you three times not to.
My mom decided to use a different tactic, something that might convince Gran that I really should stay here. “We have something to discuss Mom. Paige has decided to fly the coop.”
My grandmother sat down tenderly. Her age showed in her slow movements. “And where would that be to? Somewhere fabulous I hope? Someone finally invest in your craft?” Her blue eyes caught mine, she had always believed in my art and I truly appreciated that about her.
I shook my head, “Sorry Gran, but not yet. Got anywhere around here I could throw some of my stuff?”
She looked taken aback. “You’re letting her move in here? Gwen, are you sure about this?” Concern etched into the wrinkles around her eyes.
“I have to say this wasn’t the reaction I was going for Gran, I thought you would be excited.” I was disappointed in her lack of enthusiasm.
“Of course I am dear,” she quickly changed her attitude and took my hands in hers. “I just want to be sure that this is what your mother wants.” She gave Mom another look of death.
Something weird was going on here. I had always stayed here as a kid, but I guess the last time was maybe when I was like thirteen. Maybe she didn’t feel like she could handle an adult grandchild, especially a depressed one. Or perhaps she was catching on that I was here to watch her, not the other way around.
“You won’t even know I’m here, promise.” I squeezed her hands for emphasis. It’s this or a home, I tried to tell her with my look. She must have understood it because she said, “Well, don’t just sit here with us old people, go upstairs and pick a room!”
I laughed and practically skipped back to the stairs. I took them two at a time, just like I always had since my legs could reach. I was finally getting the escape I needed. Moving out of my parents’ house was quite possibly the best news I’d heard in about nine months.
As I rounded the corner, I noticed something had changed on the second story. All of the doors to the eight-bedroom home were closed, and what furniture was in the hallway was covered with thick white sheets, a layer of dust covering those. I tried opening a few doors before I realized they must all be locked. Where was Gran sleeping then? She had always stayed in the bedroom at the end of the hall, the one with a small balcony. Judging by the dust on the rug, no one had walked up here in months. It appeared she was in more physical trouble than she was letting on, perhaps she couldn’t even get up the stairs anymore. But then why stay in this huge house? She could easily sell this place and get a nice little rancher closer to us. But as I turned to walk back to the stairs, I saw the exact reason she was staying here.
A large family portrait of my grandfather, Gran and my mom was hanging above the staircase. She has so many great memories in this house, I thought to myself, there’s no way she could leave. So it would become my job to make it as easy as possible for her to stay here, with me. It would be kind of like a girls’ getaway. I was getting away from my parents and in a way, so was she.
The carpeted stairs muffled my steps as I walked back down to ask where the keys were for the bedrooms, knowing that my mom must not have heard me coming. I could hear the hushed whispers all the way from the stairs, Gran’s hearing wasn’t what it used to be. Unfortunately mine wasn’t very good either. But I knew the conversation that was happening behind the closed doors. It was the same one I had heard over and over again since Nick’s disappearance. Same rules as always, don’t mention him, surround her with happy activities, but don’t be pushy. To me it all felt the same, smothered. I couldn’t wait for my mom to let me go, allow me to try to make it again on my own. At some point I had to accept that he was gone.
Instead of going in the kitchen I decided to avoid them and let my mom give Gran her speech. I knew it would make her feel better even though it made me feel like a child. Sometimes parents just need to feel needed. I took my purse and started walking. I didn’t know where I would end up but I needed to investigate my new town. See if there truly was anything for me here.
The day grew muggy around me and I watched as a taller guy in dark jeans and a short sleeve dark green top walked across the street in front of me. His shoulders were hunched and he continued to walk about ten feet in front of me. I followed him, no idea why, but I had nowhere else to go. We walked in silence for about ten minutes, turning corners and dodging cars while crossing the street. I had to find out where he was going, there was something so unique and mysterious about him. When he turned a corner at a fabric shop I lost sight of him. I turned around to go back to Gran’s, but when I turned I walked right into a guy matching the description of the guy I was just following.
“Ooo sorry!” How embarrassing. When I looked up I unintentionally sucked in a deep breath. His handsome features were overwhelming. I had never seen someone so beautiful in such a raw way. I watched his beautiful gray eyes hidden in the shadows of dark brown hair. He had a little stubble on his cheeks and chin, but he didn’t look grungy. It worked for him.
He looked at me closely taking in my jeans and long tank. “Why were ya following me?”
Oh my God, he had an Irish accent. I was in trouble. It took me an incredibly long time to realize he asked me a question. Shit. “Ummm, I wasn’t really meaning to, it’s just I don’t know the town very well and you seemed to know where you were going.”
He studied me closely and I watched his eyes as they fell upon my necklace, a pentagram Gran had given me as a child. “Nice necklace,” he commented.
“Thanks,” I said, touching it.
“What’s yer name lass?” He had a half smile on his face.
“Paige, and you are?”
“Ultan. Yer new around here? Ya said ya didn’t know where ya were goin’.”
“Yeah well I’m staying with my grandmother. Taking care of her and helping around the house.”
“Ahh I see. Well do ya know how to get back home then?”
“Actually, no,” I said, turning around on the sidewalk.
“Well, good luck with that Paige. I guess I’ll see ya around.”
“Sure, see ya. Hey, wait! How about some directions?”
I heard him laugh as he walked away. “Sometimes just being where ya are is enough lass.”
I felt a flutter in my chest. It wasn’t something I had felt in a long time. Watching as he swaggered away, I found myself mesmerized by his smile and almost cocky attitude.
Ultan
I walked away from her. My bear pacing and clawing attempting to break free. I had never felt so out of control.
What the hell was going on with me? With him? I wanted to follow that sweet ass wherever it was going, but I knew if I had stayed and talked to her just a moment longer, I would lose focus. And shifting into a bear in the middle of Salem was not something I could do. The witch trials here, certainly weren’t over. Bears had only been here for a few decades, but
people talked. Things were noticed here more than other places. Sometimes it made me miss home.
But there were hardly any shifters in Europe, America was the place to be. The place to find a mate. As I thought more about the dark beauty the worse I felt in the pit of my stomach. I could never have her, there was too much at stake.
I only had one job. And it wasn’t to get into her pants, no matter how much my bear and I wanted to. I looked over my shoulder to find her in the crowd, but I lost sight of her. My bear growled in disgust that I couldn’t keep track of her. He was right, I would have to keep a closer eye on her. For more than one reason.
Paige
I continued to search the street for something familiar, maybe something I could remember from my childhood. I didn’t want to call Gran for directions. She and my mom didn’t even know I had left. I looked across the street and struck gold. There on the corner was a small gallery, maybe what I had been looking for the whole time. It was like fate. I’d always been lucky, weird things had happened to me my entire life and yet I’d always come out on top. Some people would say I had a guardian angel, but I just thought good things come to those who wait.
Time to take a step in the right direction, I thought. I crossed the cobblestone street and entered a small gallery with a modern silver door, pausing just for a moment to look to at the paintings in the window. There was a fabulous self-portrait with a picture of the artist sitting next to it. She was a stunning blonde and it said her name was Joy. Just Joy, very Madonna style. I liked it.
A tiny silver bell chimed on the door as I opened it. I attempted to shut it quietly behind me as I saw the artist describing her work near the back of the gallery. My heels clicked on the hardwood floor, but no one seemed to notice my presence as they were so involved in her storytelling. She described the landscape, it was abstract and I could only make out a few trees. Not really my type of art, I could tell she was inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe. I, unfortunately, wasn’t really inspired by anyone. It was always things that I saw that I painted. Nothing came directly out of my head. They were all real world objects, or people. People I loved, people like Nick. I sighed, pushing his beautiful blue eyes from my thoughts. I needed to focus right now. I crept quietly towards the crowd listening to Joy reminisce. She was describing a creek in the picture. I could tell the strong blue squares were supposed to represent the moving water.
“We were sitting on the edge of this creek,” she said, “and there was this little turtle on the log. I thought about how he had a story that deserved to be told. The smallest black circle in the middle of the blue rectangles represents the turtle. This painting is for him and all the other small creatures that no one thinks about.” Whoa, this girl was one of those hippie artists. They look at the small things in life and see the biggest pictures. I was impressed with her dedication to her craft. By looking closer at the image I could tell she had some real natural talent. I had taken enough classes to know what could be taught and what couldn’t. “Lines could be taught,” my professors would say, “but the passion must come from you.”
People clapped as Joy smiled and nodded at them. “Thank you, thank you,” she said, looking tranquil and beautiful, as she met with a few of her admirers. Shaking their hands and making connections, she looked very professional and I realized she really knew what she was doing. I noticed a few of her admirers making their way to the counter, obviously to buy her work. Either she had a really good group here, or she was a really good salesperson, but either way, Joy wasn’t going home empty-handed today. I approached her with my hand outstretched, wondering if a little of her good fortune would rub off on me.
“That was an excellent story,” I said. “It’s always interesting to me to hear other artists’ points of view.”
“Ahh, you’re an artist?” She smiled widely as she shook my hand. It wasn’t a fake smile like “oh, this is my competition” it was more of a “hey, maybe we can be friends” look.
“Yeah I paint a little, nothing spectacular. I went to school for it, but then…,” I stopped myself. I still wasn’t quite sure how to explain to people that my boyfriend disappeared and I kind of lost myself.
“But then you’re an artist,” she continued. “And as artists we do whatever our hearts desire. Did you finish your schooling?” She sounded generally interested. I wasn’t used to this. In New York everyone was an artist or musician. So no one really cared about what you did or who you wanted to become, even if they asked. But Joy really seemed to wonder, maybe I would be the focus for her next piece.
“I’m still working on it. Life sort of got in the way. I haven’t done much in a while and I’m certainly not on display in any galleries.” I looked at my shoes. Acknowledging my own defeat was hard to do, even though I knew it was true.
“Why don’t you show your stuff here?” She asked it like it was the simplest thing in the world. That anyone could just throw themselves into a gallery.
“Well I was kind of thinking about it. Do you know who the owner is?” I was hoping it wasn’t some old hippie who wouldn’t get my modern take on realism.
“Well, you’re looking at her.”
My mouth dropped. No way, this girl couldn’t be any older than I was! How could she own her own gallery already?
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack, I bought this place last year.” She threw her hands out as she gestured around her. The honest pride showed on her face. “It was a dump when I got it, but I think we’ve made it into something pretty special since then.”
“I’ll admit I’m impressed. But you’re so young, how’d you do it?”
“That’s a bit of a secret, the whole town is wondering how I’ve done this, so no offense but I can’t really tell you. You’ll just have to believe what everyone else does… it was magic.” She smiled broadly at her own joke, as puns about witchcraft were pretty popular in Salem. “I’m Joy by the way and you are…”
“I’m Paige, I just moved here from outside New York City.”
“Really? Very hip.”
I nodded. “So I guess then I should ask you, are there any openings for artists? Or how about any openings in general? I think I’m going to be here awhile.”
“Actually I’m looking for a new salesperson, are you interested? If you do a good job, and after a couple weeks, when we have an opening on the wall, I’ll show your stuff. Sound like a deal?”
“Definitely and thank you for the job, I really need one. Though I don’t know how you would need another salesperson. You can obviously sell your stuff well.”
“That’s true. I can sell my own stuff, but there are a lot of things in here that don’t belong to me and I guess I just don’t have the charm when it comes to them.” I was surprised with her honesty and how brilliant she was as a businesswoman. To look at her, with the long blonde hair and striking blue eyes, I don’t think you would realize how intelligent she really was.
“Alright, perfect, when can I start?” I hoped she would say soon. I just didn’t think I could hang out with Gran all day every day for too long.
“How about tomorrow, around ten in the morning? We have a new buyer coming in and I could use the extra hand.”
“Sounds great! I’ll see you then. Oh and Joy, can you give me some directions home? It seems I’ve gotten myself a bit turned around.”
“In this town, there are no wrong turns, just different paths,” she said with a sigh. She smiled as she wrote down directions back to the house on Elm.
When I arrived back at the house, I explained to my mom that I had already found a job and I intended on staying for the summer. After I told them all about meeting Joy, Gran chimed in.
“That Joy, she is a lovely girl. She’s doing such wonderful things for the town! That building she bought and renovated was such an eyesore before but now it’s one of the most happening spots in Salem. Some really think she puts a little bit of a spell over her clients.”
I rolled my eyes at her
witchy humor. I guess that was something I was going to have to get used to.
My mom looked more relaxed, maybe even happier too, now that I’d found a job. It was the only thing she wanted me to do back home, one of the many things I refused to do in my dark state.
“Oh Paige I’m so proud of you! Already putting your stamp on this place, I think this’ll be a perfect fit for you. Right Mom?” She looked at my grandmother with that strong look in her eyes, both Gran and I knew there was no saying no to her.
“You are precisely right Gwen. I think she’ll fit in fine around here.”
We waved goodbye to my mother from the front porch. I knew I would have to call her later and explain that Gran had not been completely honest with how healthy she was, or was not. There was still the whole upstairs thing to contend with. I decided it would be best to discuss it with Gran first and get her side of the story. Maybe there was a weird superstitious reason that she didn’t want to go up there anymore. She was always doing things like that and I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, before ratting her out to Mom.
I turned to look at her. We were almost the same height so she really couldn’t get away from me as I put my hands on her shoulders. She knew I was about to get serious.
“Are we going to talk about the upstairs now?” As always she knew what was going to happen right before you did it.
“Yes Gran, we are. Why aren’t you going up there anymore? And why did you tell me to go up there and pick a room if all the doors are locked?”
She turned and walked back into the house. I followed her as she answered, “All the doors aren’t locked. I’m sure of it. Which doors did you try?” She looked at me like I was a silly little girl who didn’t follow directions.
“The first few I guess. They’re not open, I just assumed the rest were also locked.”
“Well darling perhaps I didn’t want you to get into all of the bedrooms. I haven’t used some of those bedrooms in years! It’s too much hassle to clean them and take care of them when you’re not using them.” Valid point, I thought to myself. “Some of the rooms don’t even have furniture in them anymore Paige.”
