Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96512 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I grin at Grace like I haven’t just done an emotional loop the loop. Okay, so not Fisher. That’s good, isn’t it? Good that I won’t see him. Good that the door is still firmly closed. That’s how it should be. How it has to be.
I follow Grace to the glass office at the back of the gallery. It doesn’t seem like much of an office to me. Just a room with a table and four chairs. And a tall blonde woman in a white suit.
She smiles as Grace opens the door. “Juniper French? I’m Rachel Grint.” We shake hands, and I try not to feel like the country bumpkin I so clearly am. I’m in jeans and a white shirt. I’m wearing sneakers and big panties. I bet these women don’t own a pair of sneakers. Or waist-high underwear.
“I’m very excited about your work,” Rachel says, as we all take a seat around the table. Grace guides me to the seat opposite the window, and I relax slightly because I can see Riley chatting away to Tanya as they both look at one of the paintings. “Grace has shown me some pictures, and then of course I’ve taken a look at your website. You’re very talented.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I never made it to art school or anything though. I don’t know if that means people aren’t going to like my work or—”
“Art school isn’t a requirement to produce thoughtful, beautiful work. You’ve proven that. Like I said, you’re very talented.”
I smile. “Thank you.”
“I’ve been talking to Rachel about you being based in Star Falls, and how your trips to New York would be infrequent. I presume any foreign travel would be even more difficult.”
“Foreign travel?” I say, like I didn’t hear completely clearly. “Why would I need to travel…”
“We can work around it,” Rachel says. “A number of my artists have shows in the Middle East and China. But we can figure this out. If that’s what you want. But you have to want it.”
“The Middle—yeah, no, that would be… impossible.”
My mind starts racing as I realize that when I told Grace before that making trips to New York would be impossible, it wasn’t because of Riley. It wasn’t because I didn’t have the money.
It was because I was scared.
Maybe my mom was right, and my fear was part of the reason I never went to art school in the first place. New York felt like a foreign country to me, just like China or the Middle East does now.
“I just want to take this one step at a time,” I say, correcting myself.
Maybe Riley needs to see China, just as much as she needed to see New York. It’s good for her to experience all the people and the smells, as well as the Met and Radio City Music Hall. My mom was right. Star Falls is a beautiful place, but there’s an entire world out there, and I don’t want Riley to be afraid to spread her wings and experience all that life has to offer. Then she’ll know, not just believe, that Star Falls is the best place on the planet.
“But I do want it.” As soon as I say the words, I understand how true they are. I don’t have to give up on my dreams just because I’m a mother. I want to be an artist. That’s where my heart has always been.
“That’s good to hear,” Rachel says. “One step at a time is how these things work. I don’t want to push you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
I pull in a breath, feeling a new sense of confidence. “Great. But I’m going to do my best to be as flexible as possible,” I say.
“Good,” Grace says, nodding enthusiastically. “It’s good to know you’re keen.”
“And if you decide you want to work with me, I see my job as to protect you, as well as promote you,” Rachel says.
“This is why Rachel’s perfect as your agent,” Grace adds.
I nod. If Grace thinks Rachel’s the right person, then she’s the right person. Fisher trusts Grace. I trust Fisher.
“Tell us what you’re working on,” Rachel says.
“Space,” I say. “Not astronaut-space. Space and negative space,” I say. It’s the easiest way I know how to describe what I’ve been trying to paint in the last few weeks since Fisher. Any of my unfinished works have been set aside, and I’ve been trying to paint what I feel: loneliness. “I’m trying to communicate loss,” I say.
Rachel and Grace both nod at me, willing me to say more, but I’m not sure if I can.
“Oh wait. I took some photographs. Nothing’s finished yet.”
“Wow!” Rachel says as I pull up the first image. It’s a lapis lazuli blue circle. And around the outside is a similar blue with a tiny amount of white added. It’s almost the same color, but not quite. The paint around the edges of the circle is thicker, and you can see the paint strokes all heading toward the circle like it’s trying to get the circle to stay. “It’s a little different to what I’ve done more recently.”