“Then be patient. Good things come to those who wait.”
Chapter 27
The next two days passed in a blur. Christy and I spent both evenings in Siobhan’s studio. My biggest complaint was that I couldn’t really do anything while I posed. When I did the original Gaul’s pose, I could put a book on the floor between my hands. But I was kneeling in the new pose, which meant I couldn’t hold anything without changing the lines. So I spent a lot of time designing fanciful but completely impractical buildings in my head. Trip and Wren stopped by to check on us and bring us dinner, but that was about it.
On Thursday we had to inspect the house across the street. I didn’t really have time for it, but Trip had already delayed once, and the contractor wanted to get his invoice paid. So we met him and Sayuri for a final walk-through.
He was a lot friendlier than the foreman, but I still had the feeling that he didn’t like us.
We added about a dozen things to the punch list, although most were cosmetic. The foreman and his crew had done a good job and hadn’t cut any corners that we could see. The contractor was polite throughout and treated us like we controlled the money (which we did). Still, we were all happy when it was over.
Christy and I returned to Siobhan’s studio that evening as well. She was almost done with the clay sculpture she would use to make the mold, but she still needed to put the finishing touches on it. I thought it looked fine, but Siobhan stayed late and the two of them spent hours adjusting and fixing flaws. It was grueling detail work, and I didn’t envy them.
They finally finished after ten o’clock, when Siobhan pronounced the
model ready for the molding process. Christy seemed on the verge of collapse, and I thought I might have to carry her home. She found a reserve of energy, though, and made it under her own power. Wren was waiting for us with sandwiches, which Christy ate mechanically. She was simply stoking her furnace, nothing more. She went upstairs to bed without a word.
I wanted to do the same myself, but I was woefully behind on my own project. So I thanked Wren for the sandwich and headed upstairs. The phone rang as soon as I reached the second floor. I detoured into my bedroom to answer it. I was so tired that I didn’t even smile when I picked up the flower-decorated handset.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s Sara. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“Yes and no.” I looked at my watch and shook my head in irritation. “To be honest, I don’t think there is a good time these days.”
“Oh, that’s right, it’s the end of the quarter. I don’t miss those days at all.
But I’m sure it’s better than my life at the moment, so… tell me what’s going on.”
I flopped on the bed and groaned as muscles protested after several hours in the studio.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Just a long day. A long three days.” I told her about Christy and Siobhan’s last-minute decision to create a half-scale version of the sculpture.
“It sounds like they’re right, though,” Sara said. “You probably couldn’t see enough details on the small sculpture. I do the same thing with my photographs, blow ’em up when I want to really focus on emotions.”
“Yeah, I agree. But unlike you, Christy can’t just blow up her smaller version. So she’s creating a new one. I’ve been with her the whole time, posing for the new sculpture.”
“Not exactly quality time, is it?”
“Believe it or not, it kinda is.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I used to love shooting Daphne. Just being with her was enough sometimes.”
“Mmm hmm. You’re working together, even if one of you is ‘only’ the subject. It’s shared hardship.”
“I used to stay up all night in the darkroom with a friend. I think she was secretly into girls, or at least curious.” She paused to enjoy the memory. “I wonder where she is now…”
I chuckled. “So, I’m gonna venture a guess about Daphne. Things are still moving forward with her banker guy?”
“Yeah. It’s more or less over between us.” She fell silent as the emotions hit her. “We still care about each other,” she said after a moment, “but she’s moved on, in her head at least.” She sniffed. “Sorry, I can’t believe I’m like this. Get it together,” she scolded herself.
“It’s okay. Take a moment.”
“No, I’m fine,” she continued in a stronger voice. “Anyway, she’s still living here, but I’ve noticed some of her things missing from our bedroom.”
“She’s taking them to his place?”
“Yeah. She’s also been hiding cash in my camera bag, my jacket, places like that, where I’ll think it’s mine.”
“What for?”
“She feels guilty, I think. And she knows I’ll need the money, especially when she moves out and I have to pay the entire rent on this glorious shithole dump of an apartment.”
“Tell me how you really feel.” I laughed but then grew serious again.
“She really does care about you.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s what makes it so hard.” She sniffed and forced a laugh. “Sounds like you and the little princess are growing closer.”
I smiled and went with the abrupt change of subject. “Yeah, but I feel guilty about Gina.”
“So you’ve definitely made a decision?”
“No. I wanna have my cake and eat it too.”
“That never works.”
“No kidding. I know that, but I’m still hoping. I mean, I feel like I’m giving up a sure thing for the maybe-kinda-sorta chance at something better.
Does that make sense?”
She laughed for real. “It does, actually.”
“Still, faint heart never won fair lady.”
“Ha! An old guy in one of the clubs used to say that to me.”
“My grandfather says it.”
“He doesn’t live in Memphis, does he?”
“Florida.”
“Okay. Good. I’d hate to think…”
I laughed. “Yeah, I know. Too weird, right?”
“Anyway, back to Christy and Gina. Sounds like you have decided, you
just don’t wanna admit it. Like me and Daphne. I mean, I’m moving on too, I guess. I just don’t wanna admit it.”
“Pretty messed up, aren’t we?”
“Total psychos.”
“You know,” I mused, “I used to think you actually were a psycho.”
“If I was, it’s ’cause you were trying to steal my girlfriend.”
“Fair enough.”
She sighed at the memory, almost with nostalgia.
“Your show!” I said out of the blue. “At the gallery! I haven’t asked you.
I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. And when I tell Christy I talked to you, she’s gonna ask. So… what happened?”
“Holy shit! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you either. Yeah! The gallery owner picked five of my pieces. She actually sold three of them, and I have a commission to shoot a magazine spread next week. It’s a dark sort of Christmas art series.”
“That’s awesome! Congratulations.”
“Yeah, thanks. I can’t believe I didn’t tell you.”
“You had other things on your mind,” I said.
“No fucking kidding.”
We talked about the show for a few minutes, until I couldn’t contain a yawn.
“It’s late there,” she said. “I should probably let you go.”
“Sorry. I really enjoy talking to you, but… I still have a couple of hours’
work to do.”
“I understand.”
“Matter of fact,” I said, “I’ll probably be busy through the weekend too.”
“Yeah, and I have my shoot on Monday.”
“And then there’s Thanksgiving. Oh my God! I can’t believe I didn’t tell you…”