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)
Rachel interrupts me. “Grace is going to sell that blue piece you’re working on, and what you get from that will cover your salary for an entire year, along with any amount you’re going to have to pay for materials.”
I swallow, trying to take in what she’s saying. “Twenty-five thousand, just for one painting?” I ask. “Are you serious?”
Grace and Rachel both nod, like what they’re telling me is no big deal.
“And you think I’d definitely sell one? I wouldn’t want to give up my job entirely in case I didn’t… It’s a lot to think about.”
“And no one is pressuring you to give up your job,” Rachel says.
“You should do what you’re comfortable with,” Grace says. “Going from being surrounded by children all day to being in your studio alone might be too big of a change to make all in one step.”
I can’t believe I’m even considering giving up my job. It’s been the only thing keeping Riley and me afloat all these years. Bill has always done the bare minimum. But they’re right, I don’t need to give it up completely. Maybe I just need to test these new wings over the summer and see if they work. See if being an artist feels like me. I have a feeling it will.
THIRTY-NINE
Juniper
I have a sense of optimism about the future that I haven’t felt in… I don’t know how long. I don’t know if it’s something in the New York air or because of my meeting with Grace and Rachel, but it feels like my insides have shifted around and I’m different somehow. Fundamentally changed by this trip.
“I wish we didn’t have to fly home tomorrow,” Riley says as we head west on 51st Street.
“Yeah, me too,” I reply. “I’ve enjoyed out girls’ trip.”
“And it’s not just been any girls’ trip. We didn’t go to Colorado Springs, Mom. We’re in New York City.”
I laugh. “No, we go a little farther afield than Colorado Springs, don’t we.”
“We like to spread our wings!” Riley says, taking her hand from mine and holding out her arms. She drops her arms to her sides and slides her hand against mine again. It’s the start of what’s to come. She’ll need to hold my hand less while she goes out into the world. I’ll always be here when she needs me. My mom was right, Riley needed this as much as I did. She needed to see that you can be a long way from home and still feel connected to the people you love. We both needed to see that it wasn’t so scary to leave Star Falls. Even if it was just for two nights.
“Mom!” Riley yells, pointing ahead of us. “There it is. That’s Radio City Music Hall.” The familiar façade of the venue comes into view—the star-spangled banners hanging side by side next door, the illuminated red lights. “I can’t believe we’re here.”
I laugh. “Neither can I,” I say.
“Do you think we’ll meet Vivian again? She did send us the tickets.”
“Oh, honey, she’ll be super busy getting ready to sing beforehand and likely she’ll be exhausted afterwards. I don’t think we’ll see her.” I brace myself for Riley’s disappointment, which still has the ability to grip me by the heart. We have VIP tickets, but there was no mention of a meet and greet.
“Yeah, that makes sense. This is her job. She’s not on vacation like she was in Star Falls.”
My little girl. She’s growing up. I don’t bother to tell her she wasn’t on vacation in Star Falls.
“But I did get to meet her. Not many people can say that. No one else in my class has met her.”
“I bet they haven’t.”
We show our tickets to the staff member on the door.
“Welcome,” they say. “Please make your way to the VIP lounge up the stairs and to your right. One of my colleagues up there will direct you.”
“VIP lounge?” I mumble, as we head toward the stairs.
“It means very important person,” Riley says.
“Thanks,” I say, rolling my eyes on a smile. Riley doesn’t quite understand the implications of being directed into the VIP lounge. I’m not sure I do. It’s not like we’re actual VIPs. Maybe it’s not a big deal.
“Please, may I see your tickets,” a uniformed man says at the top of the stairs. I pull out the tickets again.
“Just this way.” He indicates we should go through a door. “There is direct entry to your box from here.”
Our box?
We push through the door into a bar area. It’s a fairly small space, with a glass window overlooking the auditorium. There are a few people on one side of the window talking. They’ve all got suits on and look quite a lot older than Vivian’s average fan. I thought I was going to be the oldest one here tonight. And we’re not dressed up. Riley has her Vivian Cross t-shirt on with plain leggings. I’m in jeans and a white shirt. I’m not sure how long we’ll last in this VIP lounge.