“It’s okay if they don’t.”
“Don’t be silly,” she says, voice warm. “Despite all their aspirations to run the world, they’ll make time for this, I’m sure of it.”
Todd isn’t as convinced, because he knows how much Daniel is stressing over his finals, and if Jesse is planning a political career, then he’s probably in the same boat. However, thirty minutes after he gets to Mela’s, the doorbell rings, and a moment later there are two familiar voices in the hallway.
Todd shuts his eyes and then straightens as their voices grow stronger, coming closer.
“Thank you,” is all he comes up with, when Jesse and Daniel enter the kitchen. They look as though they’ve come straight from practice, with Daniel’s hair still wet, and they smell faintly of chlorine. Jesse clasps his shoulder hard, but Todd thinks that maybe it’s his way of being reassuring. Daniel, on the other hand, just sits on the chair next to him and squeezes his knee.
“You needed our help?” Jesse prompts, signing as he talks. His eyes are bright and he’s rubbing his hands together as if he can’t wait to get started.
Todd swallows his knee-jerk reaction to deny that he needs their help. He’s brought them here instead of letting them study. He can at least be honest about needing their help.
“Yeah.” He scratches his knee through his jeans. “We had a plan to save our gallery and managed to get a bunch of people from school to agree to exhibit. There are some really talented students graduating this year, and I thought it would be our only shot.”
Jesse nods, interpreting while Todd talks, and Todd is momentarily brought out of his explanation when Jesse holds up his hand as if asking him to pause, pulls out a notepad, and scribbles on it.
When Jesse nods, having put the pen down, he continues.
“Um, and it seemed to be working. I mean, the gallery wouldn’t make a lot of money, but maybe it could be a way for us to at least stay afloat until we got something better, you know? But then, I find out that the gallery next door has offered them money up front, whereas we could just offer them commission.”
He shrugs, trying to shake the heaviness from his shoulders.
“I just don’t want to give up yet, but I don’t know what to do.”
There’s a silence around the table, until Jesse has finished translating and then taking a couple of minutes to jot down some notes. He puts his pen down. “So, what kind of assets do we have among the four of us?”
Todd blinks. What does that even mean?
“My mom has press contacts,” Daniel says immediately. “If we had a story to sell them, she can get it out there.”
“Same here.” Jesse nods. “It’s definitely important to reach out. It doesn’t matter how great the gallery is if no one knows it exists.”
“I don’t really have a story to sell them,” Todd says.
“Do you remember when we discussed this the first time you stayed over at my house?” Daniel asks. “That you could brand it as a gallery that would be a great platform for graduating art students from your college, because it’s Brooklyn-local and add more famous artists.”
He does remember that. There’s just one problem. “I think I could get the students if we had the more famous artists, but we don’t.”
“In reality,” Jesse says. “You’d probably only need one or two. That way, we could get the word out. You could have a reopening with this new concept, and we could let local news sites and papers know about it. After that, it shouldn’t be too difficult for you to get of new artists.”
“I don’t even have one or two.” It’s ridiculous that he’s an art student, but he has zero contacts in the industry. If he’d been more like Evan, he probably would’ve had a hundred names to pick from.
“But you know someone who does,” Mela points out, just as Todd realizes the same thing.
“I can’t ask him,” he mutters.
“Why not?” Mela asks. “He already offered, and you do talk again. Letting Evan help you isn’t a bad thing, Todd. If you need his help to succeed, it won’t make your success any less.”
“I agree.” Daniel squeezes Todd’s knee again. “It’s still your thing. You still did this, even if you had help.”
Todd is quiet for a long while, his head spinning with doubts. Asking Evan for help is admitting that he’s better even at something that’s Todd’s. However, if he doesn’t ask Evan for help, there won’t be anything that’s his in a couple of months.
“All right,” he sighs and picks up his phone. “I’ll call him.”
“Do it, and we’ll see if we can come up with a less-vague idea.” Mela nods at him, smiling, and he pretends his stomach doesn’t hurt as he closes the door to her bedroom and presses Evan’s name.
He picks up on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“It’s me,” Todd says. “Is this a bad time?”
“No, of course not.” He can hear a door closing on the other end and a lock turning. “I just got home.”
“I need to ask you a favor. You’re free to say no, but you’re kind of my only hope. I wouldn’t ask if you hadn’t already offered.”
“What is it?”
“The gallery is about to close, but I don’t want to give up. I’ve got this idea that my friends helped me with, but we need someone who’s famous, so we could actually get the media to care.”
“So, artists?”
“Yeah. If you know anyone?”
Evans hums. “I know several people. How much time do I have?”
“Well, as little time as you can manage.”
Evan laughs. “Give me a week and I’ll get back to you.”
Todd’s throat is so tight that he can barely get the words out. “Thank you. Are you coming home for Christmas?”
“Can I? I managed to get some time off.”
“Yeah. I think I’d like that.”
There’s silence on Evan’s end, until he clears his throat and says, “Then I’ll be there.”
In the kitchen, Jesse is scribbling on his notepad, and Daniel and Mela are both leaning over his shoulders to look. As soon as he steps through the door, all their focus is on him, though.
“He’ll do it.”
Jesse punches the air as if he’s just won a heat, and Mela rounds the table to hug him. It looks as though Daniel is on his way out of his chair, too, but Mela reaches him first.
“Talk to Mrs. Floral,” she says. “I think we have people to contact at most of the important platforms you could use to get this out. These guys have hooks out all over this city.”
“Thank you,” Todd says, and his cheeks hurt from how big his smile is. “You guys are the best.”
* * *
“I’m not sure we have finances to stay afloat that long,” Mrs. Floral says, and Todd’s good spirits plummet in an instant. “I have to admit, I’m not that knowledgeable, but I’ve managed this place for a long time now.”
He’s asked Evan for help. Evan. He can ask Dad too.
“Can I borrow the books? My dad’s an accountant. Maybe he can take a look.” Todd shrugs. He knows nothing about accounting and finances. There might not be any use for his dad to take a look, but it’s worth asking him.
“Of course, honey.” Mrs. Floral pats his cheek, her fingers trembling. “If you manage to do this, and I hope you do, you can consider this your own gallery when I retire.”
“You’re not allowed to retire,” he says immediately, but the idea of it vibrates between his ribs, making his fingertips tingle as he grabs the books from the desk. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“There’s no rush, honey.”
Oh, but there is.
Dad’s having his evening coffee in front of the TV when Todd barges in. Daniel’s dad is on the screen, talking about tactics or something, and it’s a bit too weird
to wrap his head around.
“Can you help me with something?” he asks, and Dad looks up as if Todd has just told him that he’s seen a dragon outside.
“Help you?” Dad asks, as if he wants to make sure.
“The gallery isn’t doing well, and I’m trying really hard to save it. I’ve got this plan that my friends and Evan helped me with, but Mrs. Floral doesn’t think we have the finances to keep the place open long enough to make it happen.” Todd holds the books in his hands; his fingers are stiff from clasping them too hard.
Dad looks at them. “She does it by hand?”
“Uh. Apparently?”
“Jesus. Okay, hand them over and let me have a look.” He heaves a sigh when Todd puts the books on the coffee table. “This might take a while. Put some more coffee on, will you?”
Todd hovers; for the second time this week, he isn’t sure if he’s going to cry or break open.
“Did you want something else?” Dad asks as he grabs his glasses from the table.
“Just to give you a hug,” Todd says before he knows what he’s saying. The stricken look on Dad’s face says everything about how long it’s been since Todd offered him a hug. Feeling as though he’s five years old again, Todd wraps his arms around him and slouches a little so that he can press his face against Dad’s shoulder.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “You’re the best dad.”
“And you—” Dad begins, voice thick. “—are one of the two best kids out there.”
“Sap.”
“You’re the one crying, not me.”
But when Todd backs away, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand, Dad’s eyes are wet too.
“Now get that coffee going and leave me alone.” Dad doesn’t pull off looking stern, but Todd does what he says anyway, and he sends a text update to Mela, Daniel, and Jesse.
It takes hours. Todd refills Dad’s cup more times than he can count, but he doesn’t dare interrupt the concentrated look on Dad’s face. There are notes that Todd doesn’t understand, and Dad’s muttering under his breath. He doesn’t seem to notice that Todd is in the room.
He’s scrolling through every social media site he can think of for the fifth time, when Dad finally appears in the open door to his room.
“I have good news.”
Todd almost drops his phone as he jerks upright in bed. “You do?”
“Yes, there are some cuts you can make that haven’t already been made. I don’t know how much time that will buy you, but it’s something.” Dad hands over a bunch of papers. They don’t make a lot of sense to Todd, but he hopes that they will to Mrs. Floral.
“Thanks. This… Thanks.” Todd clutches the papers.
“Can we talk about something else?” Dad asks and sits on the edge of Todd’s bed.
“Um, yeah, sure.” After putting the papers in his bag, he sits next to Dad.
“It’s about Daniel.”
Todd rolls his eyes, because god. “He’s not my boyfriend. I already told you!”
“But he wants to be,” Dad says with a smile. “And you want him to be. So why isn’t he?”
“No, he doesn’t.” Todd sighs. “Maybe back in September, but not anymore.”
Dad shakes his head. “He does. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
“That’s just his personality. He’s like that with everyone.”
“Todd, I’ve been around a lot longer than you. He wants to be more than just your friend. You didn’t even sleep in separate rooms when he was here.”
These ideas aren’t welcome right now. There’s no room for them. The only thing that’s keeping him from falling for Daniel completely is reminding himself of that Daniel doesn’t feel the same way. Dad shouldn’t be telling him this.
“It’s not going to happen. I’m trying to accept it.”
Dad ruffles his hair. “You’ve been stepping out of your comfort zone a lot lately. I’m proud of you. I’m not going to push you, but you should think about talking to him.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Todd rests his head against his shoulder, allowing himself to take that to heart.
* * *
Todd has finished two of his finals when they have another meeting at Mela’s. Her parents are rarely home, living the life of a successful doctor and a scientist making groundbreaking discoveries in cancer treatment, so it’s the easiest spot to gather.
“I talked to Mrs. Floral after asking my dad for help,” Todd says, waiting for Jesse to interpret before he continues. “And she doesn’t think the extra money will last that long.”
“So we need a donation,” Mela states.
Todd grimaces. “Yeah.”
“My mom will make one,” Daniel says easily, as soon as Jesse has interpreted for him, as if it’s not a big deal, and Todd frowns at him. Daniel gives him a small shrug before he continues, “If we can get this thing to happen, there will be media exposure. If she makes a donation, her name will be connected to something positive, and she’ll get exposure in return. It’s a win-win and not a lot of money for her in comparison to buying an ad.”
Jesse nods. “For sure. Talk to her. If she isn’t up for it, I’ll talk to my parents.”
“It’s that easy for you?” Todd asks, and he wonders if he’s the only one with his mind boggling. It’s as though they’re talking about who’s going to buy the coffee, not donate actual money.
“It’s all business,” Daniel explains. “My mom’s great at business. She’ll see the opportunity and take it.”
“It feels a bit like charity to me.”
“It will definitely look like my mom did a nice thing for the gallery and art students, but it’s a cheap way of getting publicity and doing something positive.”
“Wow, there’s really no good in the world,” Todd snorts, making the rest of them laugh.
“Not when it comes to making money,” Daniel agrees. “But sometimes you can make it work in your favor, right?”
“If you can make it happen, I’ll be forever grateful.”
Daniel does make it happen. Two days later, Todd gets a text from him.
> My mom wants to have you over for dinner and talk about the gallery. Already made sure you get a donation, though. I think she just wants to know what to tell people when they ask.
Todd winces. Meeting the parents? Daniel has already met his, but that was different. His parents are normal people. Daniel’s parents are people who are somehow untouchable, people you see on TV but who don’t actually exist in real life.
< Oh god. When? What do I wear?
> Are you free on Friday?
< Yeah. I’m gonna die
He doesn’t die, but he’s nauseous as he rings the doorbell to Daniel’s house. He’s able to find the way on his own now, and there’s a terrible wait while his brain tries to figure out how he should react if one of Daniel’s parents opens the door.
To his relief, Daniel is on the other side when the door swings open.
“Hello,” he signs. “How are you?”
Todd only remembers how to sign that he’s doing good, so that’s what he does, and Daniel’s grin totally calls his lie.
“Is this okay?” he asks, gesturing at his button-up with zebra stripes and his dark jeans. Mom wanted him to go super-formal, but that would suffocate him.
“You look great. You really don’t have to be nervous at all.”
Todd gives him a flat look. That’s easy for Daniel to say, since they’re his parents. They changed his diapers. It’s not the same thing!
“My mom is pretty chill.” Daniel nods toward the staircase while Todd removes his shoes.
“Did you just say chill?”
Rolling his eyes, Daniel walks backward up the stairs. “Who do you think I am? Of course I say chill.”
“This is probably the first t
ime I’ve ever heard you say such a youthful word.”
Daniel barks out a laugh. “I don’t know why we’re friends.”
Elizabeth Berger is in the kitchen, looking like one of the stills from her cookbooks with her yellow dress and her light pink apron. Her hair is blond, but not as light as Daniel’s and his dad’s. When she notices Todd, her face brightens in a smile that’s so much like her son’s that Todd is a bit overwhelmed.
“You must be Todd,” she says. Her voice is smooth and warm, just the way Todd recognizes it from the commercials. She signs as she speaks. “I’m Elizabeth.”
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Berger,” he says, shaking her hand.
“Please call me Elizabeth. Daniel tells me that you’re trying to help art students.” She releases him in favor of patting Daniel on the cheek, and Todd gets flashbacks from every time Mrs. Floral does that to him. “He gets invested in everything, this one. You’re going to make a great lawyer.”
Daniel’s smile falters, and Todd hurries to say: “Yes, well, I work at this gallery, and we want to try a new approach.”
“They want to create an opportunity for local art students to take the first step after graduating,” Daniel fills in.
“It’s really difficult to make a career in art,” Todd explains. “If we can even help a few, it would be amazing.”
“Oh, I completely agree.” Elizabeth nods eagerly. “Let’s discuss this more over dinner. Daniel, go get Ava and your dad.”
Being left alone with Elizabeth Berger is almost as intimidating as it would be to be left alone with her husband. Just almost, and Todd is secretly grateful for that.
“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says, as she removes the pot from the stove. “Daniel has been talking so much about you, and I couldn’t resist lending a helping hand when he asked me to. This dinner is really just to finally get a face to the name.” She winks, and Todd doesn’t know where to put his hands.
“Um, well, this is the face,” he tries and is relieved when she laughs as if he was intentionally funny.
“I can definitely see why Daniel has been raving so much about you,” she says, still signing. Maybe it’s not even a conscious choice she makes anymore. That would make sense.
Brush Strokes Page 22