Page 50 of Built to Last
Judgingby the time he messaged, it’s obvious Phillip reached out the moment he got home and discovered I left something for him. It won’t taste as good now as it would have if he’d been there to receive it fresh first thing this morning, and a petty part of me feels a little pleased about that.
While I am glad he apologised for avoiding me, I’m still unsure where that leaves us in the long run. At least him asking me to stay for dinner seems like a good sign. What I do know is that it’s time for me to take a hard look at why I had such a huge reaction to Blake’s news.
Nobody likes admitting they’re wrong, and it’s worse having to acknowledge your unresolved baggage in the process, but it needs to be done. I’m self-aware enough to acknowledge that I don’t trust easily. I’ve considered it before but I think it’s time I actually follow through and find a therapist. Maybe talking through all the stuff in my past will help me get to a stage where I don’t automatically assume the worst in people to the point all rational thought takes a backseat. The only therapy I’ve done has been focused around pain management but Aria talks to someone a couple of times a month and swears by it.
Decision made, I add looking for a therapist to my to-do list for the evening. First on the list is calling the number on the card Blake gave me outside Phillip’s parents’ house. I’m ready to find out more about this gallery show and what would be required of me. That is, if Blake hasn’t decided I’m too much trouble and the slot has been taken by someone else while I’ve been spiralling. Phillip isn’t the only person I need to apologise to.
“Blake Elmhurst, speaking.” Blake’s clipped voice has an impatient bite to it, possibly because he doesn’t recognise my phone number.
“Hi, Blake. It’s Rose from, um, yesterday afternoon,” I begin sheepishly, worried he might have changed his mind about me.
“Rose, I’m glad you called,” he replies warmly.
“I wanted to apologise for yesterday. You were trying to do something nice for me and I threw it in your face. I’m sorry.”
“Consider it forgotten. I do feel I should apologise again as well. I should have realised Phillip asked me to wait for a good reason, instead of charging ahead before the pair of you had a chance to talk.”
“I appreciate that, thank you.”
“Was that all?”
“Actually… I was wondering if the spot in the gallery show is still available?”
“It is. I haven’t spoken to Kimaya yet. I wanted to give you a chance to consider the opportunity first.” Blake sounds a little smug, but I don’t call him out on it seeing as he was right about me changing my mind.
Relief flows through me, making me realise that my old dream of displaying my work in a gallery is not as dead as I thought it was. It means a lot to me that Violet supports me and other local artists by displaying our pieces and selling them through Snug, but having my work in a real gallery would be truly amazing.
“I’m starting to see why Phillip likes you so much. Are you able to tell me exactly what she would need from me for the show? I don’t know how last-minute we’re talking but I have a few pieces on hand that might work if she doesn’t have a strict theme in mind.”
Blake proceeds to explain what Kimaya is looking for. The only ‘theme’ for the show is portraits from up-and-coming artists. The plan is to showcase a mix of styles so I don’t need to worry about my work not lining up with the rest of the show.
I end the call after thanking Blake then start dragging my paintings out and lining them up along my bedroom wall. When I run out of space the final two go on top of my bed. Blake told me to photograph six pieces and email them to Kimaya for approval. She has already given Blake the go-ahead to invite me to participate in the show so I know she likes my work, but it is still nerve-wracking. I still can’t believetheKimaya Chatterjee knows who I am. Her reputation for helping artists propel their careers to the next level is legendary and now she wants me to take part in one of her shows. I have to pick the perfect selection of paintings to impress her.
A knock on my bedroom door jolts me out of the staring contest I’m currently locked in against my artwork. Just as well, the paintings are winning.
“Come in,” I call out. Aria appears in the doorway, eyes widening as she takes in the paintings scattered around the room.
“Does this mean you’re doing the gallery show?” There is no missing the note of hope in her question though, to her credit, she’s obviously trying to keep her tone neutral.
“It does.” A nervous smile spreads across my face. Admitting it out loud makes the whole thing seem more real. Aria crushes me to her, a wild grin lighting up her entire being.
“This is amazing!”
I laugh as she jumps up and down with me still in her arms. “I have to send photos of my selection for approval. Want to help me choose six?” I gesture to the mess I’ve created and Aria keeps grinning, unperturbed.
“Let’s do this.” She gathers her copper mane into a ponytail, ready to get to work.
Aria gets me to list out pros and cons for each painting—the womanloveslists. Once we remove a couple of definite rejects she helps me swap options in and out until we arrive at a selection of six that complement each other best.
Too tired to cook, we order Chinese food before putting away the rejects then make our way to the living room to wait. Taking photographs of my final selection will have to wait until morning when there’s natural light available.
The food arrives half an hour later and now Aria and I are both settled in on the sofa, a feast of mini spring rolls, sweet and sour pork, vegetable noodles, and egg fried rice spread out before us.
“Thank you for helping me. Not just with all that.” I wave a hand in the direction of my bedroom. “With everything. If you hadn’t trusted me with the set design project, I would still be struggling to even pick up a paintbrush. I certainly wouldn’t be preparing for my first show right now.” Aria reaches over to squeeze my hand.
“I’m so proud of you, Rose.” Swallowing past the lump in my throat I blink away the tears gathering in my eyes.
“I’m not sure I deserve that.” My shoulders slump with a sigh. “I’ve made a mess of things with Phillip and now I don’t know if he wants to fix it.” While we were choosing paintings, I filled Aria in on what happened today. She seems sure it will all work out, I only wish I shared her confidence.
