Page 24 of Dirty Money
She looked at her phone. One little button push, that’s all it would take to unblock him. He had come over to explain himself, right? What if there was a valid explanation? What if there wasn’t?
She didn’t know if she could handle another emotional roller coaster with him; between work, school, and her being poor, she had more than enough to be worrying about. But the truth was, she had enjoyed the unexpected rush. And, like a junkie, she craved it again.
Aullie picked up her phone. She scrolled through to his contact page. Her thumb hovered over the ‘Unblock Caller’ button.
One phone call wouldn’t hurt. Just to hear what he has to say.
She set her phone down without unblocking the man, not allowing even a tiny opening for Weston to return to her life.
Just as she had every other time for the last week, which was roughly every few hours, Aullie talked herself out of it. The biggest thing holding her back was the feeling, deep in her gut, that the relationship was doomed.
Aullie envied the rich and famous almost as much as she loathed them, and Weston was one of the rich and famous. With his job and his heritage, it wasn’t like any of that was going to change.
Maybe Aullie would make it as an artist, maybe they’d at least be on closer levels one day, but maybe she wouldn’t. She had always sworn to herself that she would never become dependent on a man, and she wasn’t about to be some little failed artist looped on to some rich guy’s arm. No way in hell!
She did a pretty good job convincing herself that the beautiful other woman had nothing to do with it, too.
‘I’m done’, Aullie reminded herself. ‘I’m done, I’m done, I’m done’, she repeated it in her head like a mantra, each time with more and more conviction.
She thought of a saying she loved from one of her favorite yoga teachers; breathe in the positive: success, prosperity, confidence, and forgiveness, breathe out the negative: doubt, anger, spite, and jealousy. And Weston, she tacked onto the end of the exhale, with a coy smile.
She was going to breathe him out, she had to, and staring at his stupid painting wasn’t going to do her any favors. Aullie grabbed the painting from where it leaned against the legs of her old, wooden easel, probably not as gently as she would with another painting, and tossed it in the closet. It landed on its corner, leaning against the wall in the back under her coats.
Take that, Aullie thought, a little triumphantly. She closed the door a little too hard, reveling in this new sense of resolve. Out with the old, with the failure and insecurity, and in with the new, success and hopefully a relationship with an honest, more realistic man.
Someday, anyway.
Thankfully, Aullie was able to get her shift covered at work, but Saturday found her in a manic frenzy. Gerald had forwarded her the information for the show and she had selected thirteen of the required fourteen pieces for the show and couldn’t for the life of her decide what the last one should be.
There were so many options, and yet there were no options. She only had three hours until she was supposed to be there to set up and, even though she technically had plenty, it felt as though she had no time at all.
‘How am I ever going to pick?’ Aullie thought anxiously. For probably the millionth time in the last five days she considered dropping out of the show. There had to be someone out there more driven, more prepared, or just plain better to take her spot, didn’t there?
No, Aullie clenched her fists at her sides. She was done doubting herself. Hunting around, she found her phone and found Gerald’s number. The phone rang three times before he answered with a curious, “Hello?”
“Hey Gerald, it’s Aullie.”
“Hey, Aullie!” he replied. “What’s up?” There were voices and bustling in the background of the call.
“You aren’t already at the show, are you?” she asked desperation, leaking into her voice. “I was wondering if you could come over to my place and help me pick the last piece for my collection. I’m kind of losin’ it over here. I can’t decide.”
“Yeah, I get that!” Gerald said, empathetically. “I’m already at the show, but I could stop by real quick. I’m not really needed here right now. Could you text me your address?”
“That would be super great. Yeah, I will, thanks.” Probably overeager, she hung the phone right up and was probably texting him the address as he was saying goodbye to thin air.
-U R close!-He typed back.-B there in 5-
People who texted that way drove Aullie nuts, but at least she’d finally get a legitimate opinion. The five minutes dragged on, it ended up being seven, as Aullie paced and paced around the thirteen paintings she had already chosen. Nerves and doubt had her wanting to tear out her hair, but she had already done it for the show so she resisted the urge.
When the knock came on the door, Aullie scrambled through the tiny apartment to answer it. She unlocked the door, feeling flustered, and smiled at Gerald standing on the other side. She smoothed the full skirt on her dress down with one hand and tucked her hair behind her ear with the other.
“Hey,” she said, breathlessly.
“Hey yourself,” Gerald remarked, a mix of impressed and surprised in his voice. “You look amazing.”
“Wh-? Oh! Yeah,” Aullie said self-consciously, looking down at the classic, vintage-cut dress she wore. The low shoulder accentuated her pale, birdlike collar bones, the wide A-line skirt showcased her narrow waist. The black silk and dark gothic rose print looked artfully edgy with her straightened long black hair. She hadn’t put on her shoes yet and her red-painted toenails were out and free. “Thanks. Come on in.”
“Thanks,” he said as he stepped over the threshold. He was dressed in his typical modern, nerdy-chic getup, just a bit classier; skinny-cut khaki colored trousers with striped socks and wing-tipped oxfords, a polka dotted button down and a structured navy blazer. With the thick black glasses, and the charcoal gray fedora capping his dark curls, she had to admit the look worked for him.
