by Tracey Smith
“Okay…” I replied not really sure how to respond.
It was obvious that she didn’t want to talk about her future career plans and I decided not to push the subject, for now.
“I’ll see if I can track him down.” Amy said, looking relieved that I had accepted the shift in our conversation.
“We should get ready for the lunch crowd.” she added before I could start in again.
Less than a week passed before Amy presented me with a business card for the painter she had suggested. I was surprised, I had figured it was just a diversion and not something she really thought we should pursue. But I decided it wasn’t a bad idea.
The front of the shop was entirely made up of windows and the L-shaped glass counter display case occupied the right side and back wall, leaving the left side of the shop with a plain unused wall where the majority of the small tables were located. A mural would look nice on that wall.
I called the number listed on the card. The man who answered had a nice voice, soothing and vaguely familiar. I wondered if he might be a customer. I made arrangements to have him come to the shop after hours to discuss what he could do with the wall. Amy had provided me with some pictures of other murals he had done, and I was impressed. He was very talented.
That afternoon one of my regular customers came in. As I often did I wondered if he really came because he loved the pecan rolls as much as he claimed or if it was just to ask me out again.
“Rick’s back” Amy chanted poking her head through the kitchen doors.
I rolled my eyes and shoed her out of the kitchen hoping she’d make some excuse for me that would save me from having to talk to him again. It was the third time this week that he’d been in.
“Hey Rick” I heard Amy say
“Hi Amy, Katherine around?” I heard him ask
“Sure,” Amy replied and I cringed knowing she was throwing me to the wolves again. “I’ll go get her for you.”
“What are you doing?” I whispered as soon as she came into the kitchen.
“What’s your problem Katherine? He’s cute, he’s nice, and he wants to take you out. What’s so bad about that?” she looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and concern. My lack of a social life had been the topic of many of our conversations lately.
“I don’t know” I hedged “he’s not my type.”
“What is your type?” she asked pointedly
Michael.
I was shaken by the thought as soon as my mind whispered his name. I had done a very good job of not thinking about him recently.
“I have to meet with the painter tonight.” I was thrilled with the excuse as soon as it came to me.
“No you don’t. I do. I’m staying and you’re going out and there will be no more discussion.” She pushed me through the kitchen doors as she said this last part leaving me no time to protest because I was left face to face with Rick. I smiled weakly.
“Hey Katherine, how’s business?” Rick’s standard greeting.
“Great, thanks.” I never knew what to say to him
“So I was wondering if you’re busy tonight?” Rick had gotten braver over the last few weeks. It used to take several minutes of small talk to lead up to that question, now he just blurted it out, but he was beginning to look a little less hopeful when he said it.
“Actually she’s not.” Amy answered for me. I could have kicked her.
Rick’s face immediately lit up, and it was a nice face if I was being honest, round but not pudgy, rosy colored cheeks and fair skin that complimented his honey colored hair and hazel eyes. He had a kind face with a nice smile, kind of the boy next-door sort of look. Even though he was probably in his mid-thirties he had a young boyish face that belied his age.
“So how about dinner?” he asked me excitedly.
“Sure.” I conceded.
Why not? It had been ages since I’d been out to dinner. A night out would be nice, and Rick seemed like a nice enough guy to spend it with.
“Great! What time do you close?”
“I can close.” Amy immediately interjected. I sighed.
“Apparently I’m free now, but I’ll need to go home to change” I said looking down at my flour dusted clothes.
“Of course.” Rick immediately agreed “How about we meet at Champlain’s around 6?”
“Sounds great.” I tried to look enthusiastic. “See you at 6.” I said as I retreated back into the kitchen.
Rick looked absolutely ecstatic.
Chapter 12: Painting
Painting became my life. When I wasn’t painting at school, I painted at home. My first semester at the Art Institute a professor encouraged me to enter some of my paintings in an exhibit. Two of my paintings sold and that was when I discovered that I could make a living doing what I loved.
I started out with small canvases, and then my paintings got larger. Until finally one day, frustrated with my canvas I just began painting the wall. I had a large blank wall in my apartment and one day that just needed to be changed. I worked for 13 hours straight. I became obsessed with a vision that needed to be created. When I finished I had a masterpiece on my wall.
It was the view from the cliffs at the beach where I had spent most of my life. It depicted my favorite time of day: sunset. I was amazed with the image I had created. Immediately I began painting the other walls.
I rearranged all my furniture so that nothing touched a wall. It took a month to paint every wall in my apartment. Each was a different scene from my memories, many were of the beach or mountains, and some were from Paris. My impulse had led to inspiration. When I was finished I took a picture of each wall and created a portfolio with large glossy prints.
I took this portfolio around to various businesses in San Diego offering my services. My first job was a large brick wall on the side of an old downtown building. I painted a mural of the snow-capped Sierra-Nevada Mountains.
The local newspaper ran an article on me after that, and business picked up quickly. By the time I graduated from the Art Institute I had a successful business started with jobs booked several months in advance.
I didn’t do exterior walls for long. Interior walls were much smoother and the results were so much better. Given a picture of any scene I could reproduce it on a wall. I challenged myself with different styles. Often the clients would have an idea of what they wanted. Some had actual pictures for me to replicate. I preferred those who had no idea what they wanted and would allow me to just let my mind create something. I was truly enjoying myself. I had found my niche.
Charlie was able to collect on my debt to help him move. He and Claire had found a nice house in San Diego. I was glad they were staying close. They were my only family.
Claire insisted on having me over for dinner once they’d settled in. I had an appointment to meet a small shop owner to discuss a mural, but promised her I would make it quick and be at their place by 7pm.
I found the small bakery easily and was glad to see that it was near their new house. That would make meeting my deadline even easier. This shouldn’t take long.
The shop had just closed when I got there. I looked in through the glass door and saw a blonde woman waiting for me. She opened the door and gestured for me to follow her inside.
“Hi I’m Amy.” She said extending her hand.
“My name is Michael.” I told her as I shook her hand.
“Okay, so this is the wall we need painted.” She said gesturing to the large blank wall on the left side of the shop. “My friend actually owns this shop but she couldn’t be here tonight so I’m filling in for her. She said she wanted some sort of beach scene.”
“Not a problem.” I told her surveying the wall. “Anything specific?”
“I guess not…” she hesitated “but knowing her I’m sure she actually has something very specific in mind. Shoot, you know she was supposed to be here tonight and I really didn’t have a chance to ask her exactly what she wanted. But I’m sure whatever you come up with will be fin
e as long as it’s a beach.”
Great, I thought. Sounded like whatever I painted was going to be wrong. I’d had customers like this before. Either they knew what they wanted, but couldn’t describe it so they expected me to be a mind reader or else they didn’t know what they wanted and probably wouldn’t be happy with anything.
“Well if you’d like me to wait and meet with her…” I’d rather know whom I was painting for anyway, sometimes I could get a feel for the person and that helped me paint to their tastes.
“No, no!” She insisted. “I told her I could do this. You don’t understand, she never leaves this place! I finally convinced her to go on a real date and I’m not about to let her know that I couldn’t do this one thing without her. Just paint whatever you think will look good on that wall, something with a beach.”
She looked nervous. Her friend sounded like a real winner: A workaholic who never dated and was probably a perfectionist. This job was going to be a nightmare! I was sure this girl Amy was just being kind when she referred to the owner as her friend. Amy seemed rather young and the image I had conjured of the absent owner was of some middle-aged spinster who’d seen enough disappointment in her lifetime to leave her unable to ever truly be satisfied with anything.
“Okay, well if you’re sure…” I hesitated giving her time to consider “I guess I could get started tonight.” I said reluctantly when she didn’t seem to be wavering.
She looked pleased. I checked my watch and saw that it was only 5. I had two hours before I had to be at Charlie and Claire’s place for dinner.
“Perfect! I’m going to lock up the front door. The back door will automatically lock behind you when you leave. We close at 3 every day so you can come around 3 that way I can let you in before I leave, and then you can just leave out the back door whenever you’re done.”
“Works for me, let me just unload some of my supplies before you go.”
I went out to my truck and got what I needed. Amy left after I was all set up and I took just a few minutes to stare at the wall deciding what to paint. Usually freedom like this was what I craved, but I had a feeling the shop owner was going to be difficult.
A beach was the only direction I’d been given. I thought of the cliffs. The first mural I’d ever painted on my apartment wall. Somehow it seemed that picture belonged here. So with that image in my mind I got to work.
Chapter 13: The painter
I knew Champlain’s was a very nice restaurant near the pier but I had never been there before so I wasn’t sure how to dress. I assumed jeans would be too casual, so I slipped into one of the few dresses I owned. It was one I had bought when I was going around to banks requesting a loan to start up my bakery.
It was a simple black wrap, knee length with a matching jacket. It was not nearly as flashy as the green silk dress Amy had put me in the night of my first date with Jared, but somehow I was reminded of that night, as I was getting ready. Maybe it was because that was the last time I had been on a real date. How long ago had that been? It was too depressing to think about.
Amy was right. I needed to get out more often. I needed to date. I had been lucky enough to find my calling at an early age, and Fate had been on my side allowing me to start up a successful business. But I knew my life should include more than just work.
As I left my apartment I was feeling more confident about my decision to go out with Rick tonight. My professional life was on track, and it was time for my social life to catch up. But it was so hard to keep my mind off the shop.
On my way to the restaurant I realized that I forgot to give Amy the picture I had taken from my beach cliff. That was the scene I wanted painted. I was tempted to go by the shop and drop off the picture, maybe see if the painter had gotten started yet. It was out of the way, but I could just drop by for a minute. I looked at the clock on the dash and saw that it was just after 5 o’clock.
If I went to the shop now I wouldn’t make it to the restaurant by 6, plus I’d have to hear it from Amy about how I didn’t trust her enough to let her handle it on her own. I gritted my teeth as I passed the turn off that would have taken me to my shop and continued on toward the restaurant.
Rick was waiting for me with a grin stretching from ear to ear. I had to stifle a laugh when I saw his expression it was almost comical. Dinner was good and it turned out that Rick was a rather talkative guy so I didn’t have to offer much in the conversation, which was good because my mind kept wandering back to the shop: the cake orders that needed to be filled before the weekend, the supply orders that needed to be placed, the mural that was being painted as I sat here and I had absolutely no control over. I didn’t know how to turn it off. All I could think about was work.
After dinner we went for a walk on the pier. Although it was wintertime the weather was mild, we never saw any snow in San Diego. The temperature dropped but it was nothing that a thick jacket couldn’t remedy.
The wind coming off the ocean whipped at my hair as we walked along the pier, it was cold but also invigorating. It was not nearly as good as my beach hideout, but still the proximity to the ocean was soothing. Rick held my hand as we walked. His palms were clammy.
After we made the circuit and found ourselves back at the start of the pier I decided it was time to end the evening. I made an excuse about an early morning, which wasn’t untrue. Rick gushed about how wonderful the evening had been. I couldn’t honestly agree. It had been nice. It wasn’t bad. But wonderful would not be the word I would use to describe it. Here we were at the end of our date and I felt no desire to kiss him, no anticipation of when I would see him again.
It was just like it had been with Jared in college. Rick was a perfectly nice guy, but I felt nothing for him. Maybe I wasn’t capable of that sort of reaction to a man. I gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, without a promise of another date. Then got in my car and headed home.
Again I was tempted to turn off and go by my shop on the way home. It was late now, I was sure the painter was gone but I could check on his progress. I realized, however, that there was no reason for a detour. I would see the wall in the morning. I could wait that long.
I woke up with a tangible excitement the next morning. I wasn’t sure why that was exactly. I felt frenzied, as I got ready for work. I couldn’t get to the shop fast enough, I felt like a magnet was drawing me.
As soon as I unlocked the door I immediately turned to the left wall and exhaled. I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath. In one night the painter had made great progress. I could see a sketch of the horizon with the sun crowning the water. He had chosen to paint the scene at sunset. Perfect! Only the right half of the wall had color, golden sand, turquoise waters. It wasn’t even half done but I could see the potential, the beauty. It was going to be perfect.
All my anxiety from the night before vanished and I realized with great relief that the painter was indeed very talented and I had no reason to worry. I went to the kitchen and started my morning routine. I still held a higher level of excitement than usual and I really couldn’t account for that. I even found myself humming as I worked, which was not something I usually did.
“Must have been some date last night.” Amy said startling me
“What? Oh no… I mean… yeah. I guess. Why?” I stammered
“You’re flustered,” she giggled “and I’ve never heard you humming before. Does that mean things went well with Rick?” She was almost sparkling with excitement and I hated to burst her bubble.
“I don’t know. He was nice, dinner was good.” I shrugged not sure what else to say about it.
But now that she’d pointed it out I realized that I did feel flustered. I was sure however that Rick had nothing to do with it. Although I couldn’t imagine what did.
“Well you’re in an awfully good mood this morning” Amy said examining me more closely now as if she suspected I was keeping something from her.
“I guess I am.” I shrugged again.
I wasn’t
really sure why I felt so light hearted this morning. I didn’t think it had anything to do with Rick. It was almost like I was expecting something, like a kid on Christmas Eve. But I had no idea what if anything I was expecting. Today was just another day like any other.
And like any other day the shop was very busy. I kept to the kitchen most of the day working on some cake orders that needed to be completed. Amy ran the front and only poked her head back occasionally to let me know if I needed to re-stock anything. I was actually surprised when she told me it was almost 3 and she was getting ready to close up. The day had flown by so quickly.
“The painter should be here any minute.” Amy told me as she hung her apron in the kitchen and grabbed her purse.
“’Kay, I’ll still be here a few more hours, I need to finish up this wedding cake they need it by tomorrow.”
The bell on the front door jingled announcing someone’s arrival.
“That must be Michael.” Amy said as she turned and left the kitchen.
My hands froze at the sound of that name. I dropped a piping tube full of icing that left a red streak down the side of the white wedding cake. The realization that I just massacred my cake snapped me out of my momentary shock. Michael was a very common name I knew it couldn’t be him. I wouldn’t even allow myself to speculate. I had a cake to re-ice.
“Okay, painter’s here, I’m on my way out.” Amy said poking her head through the kitchen door.
“Oh my gosh! What happened?” Amy exclaimed as soon as she saw my red-stained cake. She rushed over to my side where I was very meticulously scraping off tainted icing.
“It’s fine.” I huffed without looking up.
“Do you need me to stay and help?” Amy asked worriedly
“No really, I’ve got this.” I assured her.
“Okay, well I’ve locked the front door. The painter knows to leave out the back when he’s done. You sure you don’t need anything?” She hesitated at the back door.
“I’m fine.” I looked up at her this time and smiled knowing if she didn’t get that reassurance she’d never leave. She hovered a moment longer and then finally left.