by Joy Argento
Emily’s Art and Soul
High school teacher Emily Sanders’s bucket list didn’t include getting divorced and starting a new job in a new city. Those challenges pale, however, when her mother dies and Emily finds herself caring for her sister who has Down syndrome.
When Emily meets Andi Marino she thinks she’s found a new best friend, just the right kind of fun and caring person to keep her from spending every weekend alone. So when Emily discovers she’s a lesbian and wants to explore her feelings for women, Andi seems like the perfect social guide. Except Emily doesn’t know that Andi has been attracted to her from the start and is fast falling in love with her. Caught up in exploring her sexuality, will Emily see the only woman she needs is right in front of her?
Emily’s Art and Soul
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Emily’s Art and Soul
© 2019 By Joy Argento. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13:978-1-63555-356-7
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, NY 12185
First Edition: January 2019
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Lynda Sandoval
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design by Joy Argento and Melody Pond
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I would like to thank Kate Klansky. Your unending support and belief in me has meant everything. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, my life is so much better with you in it.
Thank you to my editor, Lynda Sandoval, for all your help and your gentleness as we went through this process together. You have taught me so much, and I hope this book is just the beginning of many years working together.
Thank you to my kids Jamie, Jessica, and Tony, for allowing me the time to write when you were younger and for your encouragement now that you are adults. I am very proud of the people you have become. Special thanks to Jamie for telling me I was crazy when I needed to hear it.
Georgia Beers, thank you not only for your friendship but for all your words of encouragement and your willingness to answer my endless questions. I appreciate you more than you know.
My eternal gratitude goes to the following people, who were kind enough to be my first readers and tell me the truth about my writing. They are brave souls.
Barbara * Amy * Jenny * Bunny * Leah * Jackie * Julie
Thank you to my friends Karin Cole and Ellen Eassa for all your support.
I am so thankful to Sandy Lowe and the staff at Bold Strokes Books for welcoming me into the family.
This book wouldn’t have been possible without my brother Charlie in my life. He was born with Down syndrome, and my parents were told by doctors that he would be a burden to us and should be put in an institution. They couldn’t have been more wrong. Down syndrome children are pure love. He has been a blessing and a joy.
This book is dedicated to Chris Waara.
She is the first person who told me I should write.
Although I don’t think this is what she had in mind.
Chapter One
“I gonna cook some breakfast. Want me make you some?”
“You know how to cook?” Emily asked her sister.
“Sure! I not a dummy, you know. Toast is my sp-sp-specialty.” She blinked hard as if she had to force the last words out as her thick tongue got in the way. Having Down syndrome sometimes made talking difficult.
This was the second of many mornings that Emily and Mindy would share together. Emily wasn’t sure how this was going to work out. Suddenly sharing her new home with her mentally challenged younger sister had never been on her life’s to-do list. Of course, neither was getting a divorce or moving to a new town. Seems like there were a lot of things happening lately that were not on her list.
“No thanks, honey. I’ll just have some coffee. But you go ahead and make yourself something to eat.” The thought of putting food in her stomach made her feel even queasier than her nerves did.
“Mom always told us breakfast is the most im-port-ant meal of the day, ya know.” The word sounded more like “bweakfast” when Mindy said it.
“I know, Mindy,” Emily said, sitting down at the kitchen table with the newspaper and her coffee. “I’ll eat something in a little while.” She kept one eye on her little sister as she made herself toast and scrambled eggs, surprised by how well she managed. Emily didn’t know how much of the credit went to their mother and how much of it Mindy learned at the special school she had attended. The school was primarily for kids like Mindy with learning disabilities. Is that even correct to say? Is “mentally challenged” correct? Emily had a hard time keeping up with what was politically correct or not these days.
The school taught life skills like cooking, laundry, and taking the bus, along with the basics of math, reading, and writing. Mindy’s quick smile earned her a lot of friends there, but she had to leave them all behind to make the move from Rochester to Syracuse with Emily, eighty miles away in the heart of New York State. A lot of things change when your mother dies.
“So, what are you planning on doing when you get home today?” Emily asked when Mindy sat down at the table with her food.
“I gonna send out b-birthday cards.”
“Oh yeah? Who are you sending them to?”
“My friends, Jill and Tommy. Their birthdays are Thursday. They have the same birthday as Michael Jackson.”
Emily wasn’t sure what to say. She ran a hand through her hair as she thought for a moment. She looked at her sister, toying with the idea of not saying anything. They had just lost their mother. Should she tell her that Michael Jackson was also dead? Better she hears it from me than from someone else. She reached for Mindy’s hand across the table. “You know Michael Jackson died, don’t you?”
“Of course,” Mindy said, rolling her eyes. “I not sending him a card!” She laughed.
Relieved, Emily laughed too.
***
Emily stared at herself in the mirror. She looked much better than she felt. This was the first time in eight years that she was starting a new job, and her stomach wasn’t taking the change well.
“I hate this,” she said out loud. She smiled wide—actually it was more like a grimace—and leaned in toward the mirror to inspect her recently brushed teeth. Satisfied, she poured a little mouthwash into a Dixie cup and swished it around her mouth. Don’t want my new coworkers hating me because of bad breath, now do I? If they are going to hate me, they are going to have to come up with a better reason.
“What are you talking about?” she asked her reflection. “Of course they’re going to like you. They’re going to love you. They love people who talk to themselves.” She brushed her fingers through her hair, trying to puff up her bangs. The light brown color was inherited from her mother; she wished she had gotten some of the curl as well. “It’s the people who answer themselves that you have to watch out for. Right?” More finger strokes. “Right!” she said under her breath. She let out a long sigh. It’s going to be all right.
Who wouldn’t lo
ve you? Well, there was Brian. Brian didn’t love you. Her mind went to her husband—ex-husband. The divorce would be final in a few days. She doubted Brian had ever loved her. At this point, she was pretty sure she had never loved him either. Why had she even married him? Because he was the first and only man that she’d ever had any feelings for. At the time, she had mistaken them for love. Now she realized the feelings had been more of comfort and security.
Love. She had never felt true love for any of the men she dated. None of them stirred any real feelings in her at all. Not one of them made her heart beat faster or gave her butterflies in the stomach. Not Brian and not Mark, nor any of the boys she’d dated in high school.
Still a virgin at twenty-one, Emily thought it was about time to experience that thing they wrote about in songs. Making love. Intercourse. Coitus. Sex. She’d put it off long enough. Mark had looks that could make any woman swoon. Well, almost any woman. Six months of dating and Mark’s gentle prodding and she finally gave in. It wasn’t horrible, but she didn’t hear the angels singing either. She’d slept with Mark more out of curiosity about sex than desire. She broke up with him the next day.
That was fourteen years ago. Since then, she’d slept with a few different men, and while she didn’t dislike it, she never understood what all the fuss was about. She married Brian when she was twenty-eight. Without much discussion, they’d waited until their wedding night to have sex. That had been fine with Emily, and apparently, it had been fine with Brian too. Now Emily wondered why.
Emily shook the memories away. She needed to finish getting ready or she was going to be late for her first day at the new job. She buttoned up her white blouse and smoothed out her dress pants with her hands. Dressing up was not something she enjoyed, but she thought she should look presentable today. She could dress down on the weekend. Don’t think about the weekend. Let’s just get through today. This was the start of her new life and she wanted to do it right.
“Are you almost done in there?”’ Mindy knocked on the door. “I have to get ready too, ya know.”
Emily made a mental note to pick up a shower curtain for the main bathroom after work today. They had most of the house furnished and decorated, but a few small things still needed to be done. Mindy had been using Emily’s bathroom to shower, and while Emily didn’t mind, she thought Mindy would appreciate having her own shower to use.
Emily opened the door. Mindy looked her up and down. “You look bea-u-tiful.” She patted Emily on the back.
“You’re a doll. I needed that.” Emily gave her little sister a hug, bending to do it. Mindy was a good five inches shorter than Emily’s five foot six. Despite being shorter, Mindy weighed a little more than Emily’s 130 pounds, giving her a full face and a little pudge around the belly.
“You know you are my f-f-favorite sister.” Mindy pushed a chunk of blond hair away from her big blue eyes and smiled at Emily.
Emily brushed her fingers through the section of hair that Mindy had just moved and gently pushed Mindy’s pink-rimmed glasses farther up on her nose. “I am your only sister, silly.”
“Well, even if I had a million, billion sisters, you would be my bestest one! Now go to work so you don’t be late.”
“Bossy, bossy,” Emily said. “Tell me again. What time are you getting picked up?”
“Nine thirty.”
“And what’s the name of the person picking you up?”
“Cindy. I think I’ll call her Cindy Snickerdoodle.” Mindy giggled. “I just kiddin’ you,” she said, with a crooked-toothed grin. “Cindy Sams. But I like Cindy Snickerdoodle better.”
“Okay, okay, I have to get going. Do you need anything before I leave?”
“Nothing, nothing, nothing. Now, go to work.” Mindy waved Emily away from the bathroom.
Emily gathered a few items and put them into a small backpack. She heard the shower turn on, and above the hum of the water she could make out the sound of Mindy singing. Emily smiled to herself. They had both been through a tremendous amount of change in the last two months, but they were going to get through it and come out the other side stronger. Emily was sure of it.
Cindy “Snickerdoodle” was picking Mindy up in an hour to give her a ride to Mirique Works, a program set up by the county to provide “special needs” adults with jobs skills, a social outlet, and eventually a job. Mindy had belonged to a similar program in Rochester.
Mindy didn’t seem to mind living with Emily or the fact that they’d moved to another city. Emily did her best not to hover and do too much for her. When Mindy was living with Mom and Dad, they’d let her do a lot of things for herself. They knew she could handle it. But Mom died two months ago, and Dad decided that drinking and sleeping all day was the best way to handle his grief. When Emily decided it was better for Mindy to come and live with her, their father had no objections.
Emily had already sold the house she’d shared with Brian and bought a new one in Syracuse when Mindy came to live with her. The old job was behind her and the new one had already been lined up. She promised Mindy they would go back to Rochester often to visit. There was no doubt Mindy would make new friends here. Her smile and bubbly personality easily won people over.
A change-of-life baby. That’s what Mom had called Mindy. She was forty-five and Emily was thirteen by the time Mindy surprised everyone with her birth. Emily loved her baby sister, but life was busy for the teenager. Between school, her friends, and track practice, she had very little time to really get to know her. Emily left for college the week Mindy turned six. She was starting to get to know her now and was very glad about that.
Emily grabbed her backpack and keys and ducked out the side door into the garage. Sliding into the driver’s seat of her Volkswagen Golf, she realized that she was still nervous but less nauseous. You would think that by the age of thirty-five you wouldn’t feel like it was your first day of high school all over again. She slowly backed out of the garage and headed toward her new job at Freemont High, twenty minutes away.
***
Emily left the school office juggling an arm full of paperwork and several small boxes of art supplies. She struggled with balancing the piles as she ambled down the long hall following the principal’s directions to her art room. As she rounded a corner, the pile slid in her arms, and despite her best efforts to readjust her load, it slipped out of her grasp and scattered to the floor.
“Damn it,” she said under her breath, as she squatted down to gather everything up.
“Sure. Your first day here, and you think you can dump your stuff wherever you want?” It was a female voice she didn’t recognize, but of course, she didn’t really know anyone at the school yet.
Emily looked up. “I’m sor—I dropped—I’m trying—oh—geez.”
The stranger knelt down beside her, picking up papers and paintbrushes. She paused long enough to extend a hand. “Hi. I’m Andi—Andi Marino.” Her broad smile brought out deep-set dimples in her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just trying to be funny.”
Emily shook her hand and looked into bottomless brown eyes. Holy shit, she’s pretty. Holy shit! Did I just think that? Emily blushed and pushed the thoughts aside. She guessed the woman to be about her age, maybe a year or two older. Her brown hair was so dark that it was almost black and hung down a tad below shoulder length with the slightest bit of a curl at the end. The length was shorter in the front and it framed her face and soft features nicely. She wore no makeup, but then again, she didn’t need any. Her skin had a natural glow and her eyes held a sparkle that lit up when she smiled.
“I teach math here.” Andi handed Emily a stack of papers. They both stood, all of the papers and boxes now back in Emily’s arms.
“Art. Art teacher. I’m the new art teacher,” she stammered.
“I thought you might be,” Andi said, as she slipped several paintbrushes into one of the boxes. “Do you have a name or should I just refer to you as ‘the art teacher’?” She made air quotes w
ith her fingers.
Emily noticed that the dark jeans and light blue polo shirt Andi wore hugged her slim body but showed off curves in all the right places. I’m going to have to find out about the dress code for teachers around here. I would much rather be wearing jeans.
“I’m sorry. I’m kind of flustered, this being my first day and all. I’m Emily Sanders.”
“No need to get flustered yet. Most teachers wait until the students arrive to do that. They’ll keep you on your toes, for sure.” Andi smiled. “This isn’t your first year teaching, is it?”
“Oh, no. I taught at a school in Rochester for several years.”
“You’ll like it here. It’s a great school with a great staff—well, mostly a great staff.”
Emily raised her eyebrows. “Mostly a great staff?”
“Hmm, shouldn’t have said that.” Andi tilted her head and made a face. “Speaking of staff, we have a mandatory staff meeting in the auditorium in thirty minutes. Do you know where that is? Do you know your way around the school yet?”
“Let’s see, I know where the main office is and the art room. So that would be a no. I don’t know. I have a map here, somewhere…” The paper threatened to topple again as Emily shifted the load around in her arms in search of the map.
Andi helped her readjust one of the boxes. “If it would help, I can come by the art room in about twenty minutes, and we can go together. I can even give you a tour of the school afterward if you want.”
“Oh my God. That would be wonderful. I would be so grateful.”
“No problem. Do you know where you’re going right now?” Andi asked.