by Sofi Keren
She didn’t have to think long. “I did this painting my first year at UCLA. It was about the violence of love. I made the phrase ‘tear my heart out’ literal. For the first time, I wasn’t trying to just vaguely reference emotions or events—it was front and center. I took my characters, two girls in the middle of the painting, and they had their hands in each other’s chest, holding their hearts, pulling them out with strings of blood behind them. It was the most visceral thing I’ve painted, even though I didn’t break from the glossy figures and the doll-like eyes that people tend to associate with me. Obviously, I was dealing with some pretty major heartbreak, and at the time I just wanted to get it out onto canvas.”
“I’d love to see it,” Cara said.
“I wish you could. At the time I felt like I wanted to get it all out of me, and then get rid of it. I didn’t keep any of the sketches or even take photos of the final piece. I did a summer abroad in Florence and the last week there I hung it in a group show. It sold, and I don’t even know who bought it. I’ve tried to track it down a couple times, but no one has posted it online, so it’s probably gathering dust in someone’s basement now.”
“That’s awful.”
“Well, it taught me a lesson—always document everything. And maybe it was meant to be ephemeral.”
“I appreciate you sharing that with me. I love to watch people’s faces as they talk about their work, and I can see how deeply you feel about yours. If you bring a fraction of that to this mural, it will be absolutely stunning.”
They were a few doors down from the restaurant now.
“Thank you, Cara,” Paige said. “I really look forward to working with you on this. I’m so glad to have the opportunity.”
“Oh Paige,” Cara laughed. “I think we’ll be the lucky ones.”
Cara gave her a light hug as they said their goodbyes and turned to leave.
She turned back. “Don’t forget!” she called. “I still want to see that chocolate donut.”
Paige smiled. All she wanted to do was get home and get to work on revising her sketches for the mural. Cara was right. After seeing the immensity of the space she had to work with, she wanted to expand on her original idea. But first, she needed to get through dinner and the long drive home.
Chapter Ten
“How was it?” Ria asked, as Paige slid into the diner’s booth across from her.
“It was really great.” Paige felt like she was walking on air, and she didn’t have the words to describe to everyone at the table everything she was feeling. Maybe to Ria or Brandon alone, but not to the group of three. “What were you all up to while I was doing work things?”
“We played tourist,” Brandon said. “Since this was Elena’s first time in Chicago, of course we had to go to the Bean.”
“Oh, I love the Bean,” Paige replied. “Elena, what did you think?”
“It was so shiny! I don’t know why there is a giant metal jelly bean in the middle of the city but I like it.” Paige nodded. She’d just been saying the same thing about the donut on the Indianapolis library. Maybe Elena wasn’t so bad after all.
Elena pulled out her phone and flipped through the photos they’d taken posing against the famed attraction. Paige noticed Elena photographed just as beautifully as she looked in real life. Some people just have all the luck.
“And then we rode the ferris wheel,” Ria added. “Elena’s afraid of heights, but she was a trooper.”
“It was not so high!” Elena insisted. “I was not scared with my friends there.”
Brandon grinned. He’d always had a knack for making quick friends of anyone he met, but he clearly was proud to be considered a friend of a well-known athlete and her gorgeous girlfriend from Spain.
Paige’s stomach growled audibly, and she sheepishly looked up at the group.
“Did you order yet?”
“We were waiting for you, but we can be ready,” Ria promised. She waved at the server and he walked over with the practiced gait of one who is too cool to hustle but still wants a good tip.
“What is the best thing here that we should order?” Elena asked, clearly preferring the staff suggestion over picking one of the menu options at random.
He glanced at her and blushed. Paige mentally rolled her eyes. Beautiful people are just different than the rest of us, she thought. At least having Elena at their table meant they’d get great service.
“Oh, um, well, the seitan reuben is really popular. And any of our milkshakes. We have some really great pie too.”
He stammered over his words so much that Paige almost felt sorry for him. Ria caught her eye and they shared bemused glances. Elena took it all in stride, clearly used to unnerving men—and women—everywhere she went. Paige wondered what it was like to have that kind of effect on people. She was glad people didn’t fall all over her, but it was probably nice sometimes to have people rushing to please you.
“Wonderful. I will have one, and a cup of herbal tea. Perhaps I will try the pie afterward,” Elena pronounced, handing her menu over to the flustered server.
“One of…what? I’m sorry,” he replied.
“One roo-ben,” Elena said, “and whatever is your favorite pie. You choose, I trust you.”
“Oh, um, okay. Great.” He closed his notepad and started to turn away, then abruptly realized he hadn’t taken anyone else’s order. He laughed at himself and opened the pad again.
Ria ordered a mushroom burger. Brandon followed with a sandwich they called a “seitan-derloin,” a play on the popular Midwestern staple tenderloins, and then it was Paige’s turn. As the resident vegetarian of the group, she struggled over all the options available. It was so rare to visit a place where she could eat everything on the menu. That’s why this was her favorite restaurant, even though she only came here every few years. She imagined this was like the average person’s experience at Applebee’s. She envied their ability to read through pages and pages of options, all available to them, while she scoured the lists of ingredients for a single thing she could eat, often settling for wilted lettuce and a side of French fries.
This place, in comparison, was paradise. Six beautiful pages of vegetarian entrees, sides, and desserts, beautifully photographed and lovingly described. It was like a man in the desert walking for miles, finding an oasis, and being offered twelve different flavors of water. How to choose one over the other when you’re so thirsty?
Finally she chose one. Mushroom, lentil, and veggie “meet” loaf, with mashed potatoes, beets, and agave-glazed carrots. She could have drooled just reading that description. Perfect comfort food after an amazing day, nourishing her stomach after her spirit felt fulfilled. Maybe that was dramatic hyperbole, but for once she was willing to indulge.
As the server collected their menus and left, Paige felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Surreptitiously she checked the text under the table.
It was wonderful to meet you today, Paige. I look forward to working with you on this project. The city will be even more inspiring with your work on its surface. Safe travels and we will speak again soon.
Paige couldn’t help but grin and she didn’t try to hide it. She hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time.
“All good?” Ria asked.
“The best.”
Chapter Eleven
They were all full, even the ever-carnivorous Brandon praising the hearty food and the perfectly crafted desserts. It was night by the time they put themselves back in the car and began their journey back south.
Paige volunteered to drive and Ria called shotgun. Elena and Brandon happily took the backseat, chattering like they were old friends.
“They keep talking about something called ‘early music,’” Ria whispered conspiratorially. “Apparently they’re both fans of music that is not late.” The two in the backseat were deep in conversation and paid her no mind.
“Really? I knew Brandon liked that stuff. Well, that and hardcore screaming metal. He’s a man of many int
erests. But I didn’t realize anyone else under the age of eighty-two, or at least a music teacher like Brandon, was even aware it was a genre of music.”
“I guess I’ve heard her playing it before, but I always just assumed it was music to do yoga to. Not something to listen to on purpose.”
“I call it monk music,” Paige said.
“It’s not monk music,” Brandon called from the backseat.
“Oh, it’s definitely what a monk would rock out to,” Ria retorted. “Headbanging, stomping their feet, chanting, and all that. Just, you know, unplugged.”
“Whatever,” Brandon said, going back to his conversation with Elena. Paige heard him say something about Anne Boleyn and immediately tuned out.
“I tried painting to it a couple times,” Paige said to Ria. “I thought maybe it would mellow me out, make me concentrate. But mostly, it made me want to nap.”
The radio hissed as it lost its Chicago station signal. Ria turned the dial until she found a station playing old 90’s hip-hop. Brandy and Monica were singing “The Boy Is Mine.”
“I had this CD when we were kids,” Ria said. “Do you remember?”
“I loved this song. Of course I changed it in my head to ‘The Girl Is Mine’.”
“Of course you did.”
The conversation continued behind them. It was as though Brandon and Elena had known each other for years.
“He’s an interesting guy, your roommate,” Ria said. “Covered in tattoos, towering over people, tight T-shirts, but then—boom—he starts belting out opera in the middle of Chicago.”
“He did that?”
“Elena dared him to, right by the Bean. I got a video. I think a bunch of tourists did too. He’s really good, actually.”
“I know. I’ve told him he should go to New York or somewhere with something bigger than the Indianapolis Opera, but I think he likes his job teaching the classical vocalist students at Butler. He only teaches three days a week and offers private lessons on the side.”
“Ah, that makes sense. I wondered how he could get up and leave during the day to drive up to Chicago with us.”
“It’s not a bad gig, for sure.”
“We should introduce him to my brother the next time he’s back in town. They’d probably have tons to talk about. How did you meet him? I wouldn’t guess you ran in the same circles.”
“Eh. It seems like all the circles in Indianapolis overlap at some point. But we met when I came back from school when my dad got hurt. He’s one of the leaders of this fitness group that meets every Wednesday. It’s a free group workout once a week, way too early in the morning. I started going to get out some of the stress. And he was so friendly. It made it actually fun to wake up at five a.m. and run the stairs at the War Memorial. Then when I decided to move back for good, he needed a roommate and the rest is history.”
“Early history? Or late history?”
“Definitely late post-modern chaos theory latter-day history.”
“So, totally off-topic, how is your dad these days? I’ve been wanting to ask.”
“He’s actually really good. The accident turned out to have a silver lining, if you can call it that. The company that owned the semi that hit his car offered a pretty generous settlement and he was finally able to retire. He only limps a little, though he definitely complains about being able to feel the weather in his bad leg. And of course, he met Celia. They’re pretty great together.”
“That’s awesome,” Ria said. “Not that he got hurt, but that it turned out all right for him.”
“You know, I think he didn’t date when I was a kid because he didn’t want me to think he was trying to replace my mom. And then he was used be being alone. I tried to get him to sign up for Match.com one time but he told me that no way was I going to sell him off on the internet.”
“That sounds like him.”
“Yeah.”
The conversation in the back seat had died down. Paige glanced in the rearview mirror and saw that both Brandon and Elena had fallen asleep.
Paige and Ria watched as the midnight-dark world sped past them, as though they were alone in a tiny pod hurtling through space.
Paige eased the car into Ria’s driveway, all three of her passengers asleep. For the last hour, she’d been the only one awake, alone with only her thoughts and a podcast of Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me to keep her going. She’d thought about stopping and asking Brandon to switch with Ria to keep her awake, but they all looked so peaceful.
She parked just outside the garage.
“Good morning, sunshines. You don’t have to go home, and you can stay here if you want to. Except for Brandon. You actually do have to go home, because your car is here and it’s my ride.”
The sleeping trio blinked back into consciousness.
“Oh wow, Paige, I’m so sorry,” Ria said. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s okay. I think you needed it.”
Ria unbuckled her seatbelt and yawned. “What time is it?” she asked, glancing at her phone. “Oh wow, it’s one a.m. I have to be on a plane in seven hours.”
Paige startled. “You’re leaving already? You didn’t tell us that.”
“I told you. I have interviews for coaching jobs.”
“Oh. Yeah, I just didn’t realize you meant tomorrow, or I guess, today. Wow. If I’d realized I wouldn’t have dragged you all the way up to Chicago.”
“You didn’t drag me at all. Actually, I’m pretty sure it was my idea. And it was a lot of fun, so I’m glad we went.”
“Where are you off to?”
“Universities of Tennessee, Virginia, and…North Carolina.”
“North Carolina? Seriously? Ria, that’s incredible. I mean, any of them would be but that’s…” Paige whistled.
“Well, I definitely don’t have the job yet. And they’re just for assistant coaching positions, not that they’re any less important. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Talk about burying the lede,” Paige said, shaking her head. “You’re just full of surprises. Promise me you’ll tell me how it goes?”
“Sure, I promise. When there’s something to tell, you’ll be the first to know.”
“After Henry and Mila,” Paige warned. “Don’t get me in trouble here.”
Brandon and Elena had climbed out of the backseat and were sleepily leaning against the car.
“You ready, Brandon?” Paige asked. He responded with a wide-mouthed yawn. “Sounds like a yes.”
The group hugged in pairs. Ria embraced Paige warmly as Brandon and Elena hugged. They sure bonded quickly. I guess early music fans have to stick together. Elena stepped forward to hug Paige. Paige put an arm around her stiffly, but tried to relax into it, telling herself to stop being awkward. Brandon gave Ria a quick hug, and then pretended he was about to give one to Paige too.
“Oh right,” he joked. “I’m keeping this one.”
On the twenty-minute drive back to their apartment, Paige stared out the window, letting the day wash over her. So many miles traveled and so much still to do. She was ready to get to work on the final design of her mural. But first, sleep.
Once they made it home and walked up the stairs to their second-floor apartment, Brandon turned to Paige with a funny look on his face.
“Thanks for inviting me today. I had a really good time.”
Paige hit him lightly. “Thank you for coming. You made everything so much easier. And you know, I love to learn more about early music.”
She quickly brushed her teeth and tugged off her jeans. She landed on her bed, threw the blanket over herself, and slept the hardest she had in months.
Chapter Twelve
It seemed like the morning sun came up sooner than usual. She checked the clock. Nine a.m. Ria would already be on a flight taking her several states away. It was probably for the best. It had been nice reconnecting with her, but now with Elena back in the picture, Paige and Ria probably wouldn’t have spent much time together anyway.
It was time to get to work. After seeing the future home of her mural yesterday and talking with Cara, she could feel her brain churning, working through the ideas and evolving her first concept into something even more.
Did she smell coffee? She yawned and pushed herself out of bed, padded out of her bedroom into the apartment’s kitchen.
There was at least enough left for one cup, the coffee’s aroma intoxicating to someone who had only slept a few hours. Brandon had left a note beside it: Volunteered to take Ria to the airport so her parents could sleep in. Thought you might need this when you woke up.
She shook her head and smiled a tired smile. He was one of the good ones. It was sweet of him to volunteer to drive Ria, even though it was almost certainly out of his way. She felt a little guilty that she hadn’t got up to join him, but not that bad. Involuntarily she yawned again and emptied the pot into her cup.
After a quick shower, she dressed in her usual uniform of paint-splattered jeans and an old T-shirt from the MoMA gift shop in New York. It was faded, but she loved how it had thinned wash after wash until it was soft against her skin.
She took her bike off its wall mount in the living room, gathered her bag, and carried the bike down to the street. It was ten a.m. on a weekday and the city was already awake and at work as she rode toward her studio. Her stomach rumbled, warning her that she’d better eat something if she was going to work all day. She stopped at General American Donut, though the fried sugary dough probably wasn’t the most nutritional fuel. The place felt like home. She’d worked there a few years ago, the super early morning shift making the donuts, before the sun was up and anyone else was awake. Sometimes she missed it—the calmness of the motions, over and over, nothing but music or a podcast over the speaker, alone in the world. It had been bittersweet when she was finally making enough money from her art to quit the job, but the owners had been kind about it. They even had a small drawing of hers framed behind the counter.
Enough delay, she thought, and put the bag of donuts along with her newly refilled coffee tumbler into her bike’s basket and rode to her studio.