Alone (15 page)

“
Are you ready to speak?” Miss Morgan asked me.

“
Yeah, I guess so,” I said fearlessly.

“
You'll be fine,” Jace said putting his hand gently on my cheek. I flushed and nodded as I turned to see Miss Morgan giving me the same look the others gave us.

“
Alright everyone,” Jace said into the microphone at the front of the room. “Thank you all for coming. When I first came across a painting of Willow's, I just had to see more. I had no expectations really when I first came to New Jollie to see her work. However, when I saw what was displayed of hers in this gallery, I couldn't just walk away without giving her an opportunity to have her work shown more appropriately. Without further ado, I'd like to introduce the star of the evening, Miss Willow Russo,” he said beaming at me as he took a step away from the microphone so I could take my place there.

I looked out into the crowd and smiled nervously. “I'd like to thank you all for coming. I know some of you have traveled a long way to see my art and I can't thank you enough for trusting Jace enough to come. I hope you enjoy what's on display here tonight. I know I have enjoyed the whole process from start to finish. I was told that this speech was supposed to tell you a little about myself and where I get my inspiration from. Well, I've lived here in New Jollie since I was born. Everything I've ever created has simply been a manifestation of a particular emotion I was feeling at some point. I like to think I have my own style that can't really be compared to another artist. I don't know how true it is, I guess you can determine that for yourself. I will be here if you want to ask me anything, feel free to ask. I'm not going to hold you up anymore, take a look around and let me know what you think. Thank you again for coming.” I stepped away from the microphone, relieved that part of the night was over.

I walked around the gallery, smiling at different people and saying hello. A few people had given me a card with the name of the gallery they were representing that night. I looked at different pieces of my work, scrutinizing each one ruthlessly. Although I could do that quite easily, I was quite proud of myself and the work that was shown there. I was stopped in front of the
Empty Handed
sculpture when I was startled by someone starting a conversation with me.

“
Hi!” she said in a chirpy little voice.

I whirled around and realized it was not an adult who spoke, but a little girl calling for my attention. “Hello there,” I said with a bit of surprise in my voice.

“
My name is Alli. You are a wonderful artist Miss Russo.”

“
Willow,” I corrected automatically. “Thank you. What are you doing here?” I was pretty sure that this wasn't a show for children. Not that I minded a child, who couldn't be older than ten, being here. Her features were so small but somehow she looked like she truly belonged here.

“
My mom brought me. She manages a gallery in Portland, Oregon.”

“
Ah,” I said still trying to comprehend. “Does she make you come to these things often?” I was pretty sure it was a case of an upper class mom trying to instill culture in her daughter.

“
Only when I want to. She wasn't going to bring me this time, since I had to take time off of school to come all the way across the country. Obviously I was able to convince her in the end.”

“
Really?” I asked with a voice full of doubt.

“
Yes. I saw the invitation for my mom that had a photo of a couple of your paintings and I begged to come. You're really good.”

“
Thanks,” I was glad my work reached one person here. The fact that it was a third grader mattered little to me. However, part of me wanted to challenge this little girl, Alli. “Who's your favorite artist?”

“
MC Escher,” she voiced strongly. “His world of paradoxes has always intrigued me.”

I was shocked. MC Escher was one of the few artists I studied for Art History in high school and had this little girl just used the word ‘paradox?’ Escher was mostly famous for his Drawing Hands, but each piece of his presented a strange new world. Alli was so confident in her response, I was pretty sure she knew more about Escher than I did.

Before I could respond, a woman in her early thirties laid her hand on Alli's shoulder and said, “Alli, you shouldn't really bother the artist. You know better than that.”

“
I really don't mind,” I defended. “We were just discussing her love of Escher.” I looked at Alli who smiled in thanks.

The woman laughed at that and reached her hand out to shake mine. “My name is Clara Johnson. I manage the Attic Gallery in Portland, Oregon.”

“
Thank you so much for coming,” I said earnestly.

“
Come along Alli. Let Willow mingle with the other guests,” they both smiled and walked away. Obviously I wasn't going to get her opinion on my art.

The responses I received were overwhelmingly positive. Jace was right that tonight was full of possibilities. I was surprisingly at ease talking to so many people. The confidence I used to pretend I had, was a reality now. Looking at my work, and hearing people's comments made me proud instead of instantly thinking it was a pity compliment.

At the close of the show, I thanked each person for coming at the door. Jace stood beside me proudly as each person said goodbye. When the gallery was finally empty except for me, Jace and Miss Morgan, Jace pulled me into a small conference room while Miss Morgan was turning off the lights around the gallery.

“
How are you feeling?” Jace asked as we sat across from each other at the small table.

“
I don't really know to tell you the truth. I don't think it's really hit me that it's all over now. I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to do now.”

“
Now it's just a waiting game. The only suggestion I have is to do research on some of the galleries the people here came from. Decide where you'd like to go if it gets to that point. Or do you think you still want to stay here?”

“
I don't know. I don't think I'd want to go too far though. Besides, it's quite possible that no one will be interested in taking me on full time.”

Jace laughed loudly, “You can't actually believe that.”

“
I know that the people I spoke with all seemed pretty positive. It was hard to tell though. It was like everyone was purposely holding back anything they really thought. It was kind of weird.”

“
That's what they do Willow. They don’t start a bidding war at a gallery, that would be inappropriate.”

There was a knock on the door and Miss Morgan came from behind and asked, “Do you mind if I interrupt?”

“
Not at all, come on in,” Jace insisted.

“
Willow, I've figured out the total for tonight's event. Would you like to see the total when you come tomorrow to pick up the check?” Miss Morgan asked unsuccessfully trying to hide her excitement. I took the paper from her and saw that I had actually sold a majority of what was on display tonight.

“
I'm quite proud of you Willow,” Miss Morgan said unable to curb her emotions. “Congratulations dear.” She reached her arms out and I stood up so I could welcome her embrace. I was crying now, the reality of tonight finally setting in. “I am leaving now, lock up when you're done here okay?”

“
No problem,” I said.

When Jace and I were alone again he locked eyes with me and I was left breathless. He looked like he was struggling with what he wanted to say. I thought maybe I should say something first, but I couldn't find the words either.

“
Willow, I want you to know something,” he said suddenly intense, but then he paused again. “I spoke with Mr. Jacobs from Texas,” he continued in a completely different tone, “You know, he wanted to pay a significant amount of money for your Willow Tree sculpture. He made me promise to give you his card if you decide to take him up on it. The offer is written on the back.”

I took the card but didn't bother looking at the offer. There was no point, that piece was the only one I'd ever done for myself, I was keeping it.

“
Is that what you were going to say?” I asked. I couldn't get over how his tone changed mid sentence.

“
Not exactly. I uh...” he shifted uncomfortably where he sat. Then, we were interrupted by blazing sirens going down Haskell Street.

“
What's going on?” I asked panicked as I stood up and ran to the door of the gallery. I watched as the ambulances and police cars raced down the street. I walked out of the gallery and ran down the street as horror filled my body. I don't know how I knew, but I did. They were going to St. Mary's.

CHAPTER 13: GOODBYES

When I saw the ambulance outside the church, I felt my heart sink. I knew they were there for Mrs. Schneider, I could feel it. I was running in a complete daze. Had she fallen? Her diabetes? I saw Father Salmon outside the church surrounded by some other members of the church, they were all crying, and I knew. My dear friend, my only true friend before Sara, was gone. I slowed to a pace that couldn't even be considered a walk. I didn't want to hear the words that would confirm what I already knew. I didn't want to hear that I would never be able to talk to her again. I would never be able to hear her playing. It was when the paramedics came out with the stretcher my heart stopped and I collapsed.

“
No! No! Oh my God! No!” I was screaming inside my head, this wasn't happening.

“
Willow?” Father Salmon was at my side, his arms around me while I was collapsed on the ground. “I'm so sorry.”

I don't know how long we stayed on that sidewalk as I sobbed uncontrollably. It was long enough for the paramedics to leave. Long enough for the crowd to have disbursed. Father Salmon helped me up and we started walking toward the church silently. When we reached his office, he wrapped a blanket around me and sat behind his desk just watching me. Waiting patiently until I was able to say something.

“
How?” was all I could ask.

“
In her sleep,” he responded. I started sobbing again. I should have been comforted by the fact that she passed peacefully. It didn't make it any better. She was gone, no matter how it happened.

“
You should have left me on the street. I'm just wasting your time.”

“
I was going to go find you after anyway, but you were screaming on the street.”

So my screams weren't inside my head after all. I could feel my heart shatter. I could feel the pain of where it was ripped from my chest. I could feel the ache that would never heal.

“
She left you something Willow,” he was looking solemnly at me, “A letter. She had me write it about a month ago.” He handed me the envelope with her letter inside. “I wrote exactly what she told me to. Some of it made absolutely no sense to me but she said you would understand.”

“
What does it say?” I didn't want to open it.

“
You will read it when you are ready. Willow, Mrs. Schneider loved you so very much. Do you know that?” I couldn't respond. I just started crying again, a little softer than before. “She's counseled so many people over the years. Every person has left a mark on her heart. However, the bond between the two of you was different.”

“
I kept coming back,” I sobbed.

“
It was more than that. She truly loved you like you were her grandchild. She spoke so fondly of you. I never knew what made you different to her. Not until she had me write that letter for her.” I was curious what he meant but I couldn't look at the envelope.

I walked home in a daze, focusing on Mrs. Schneider’s passing. It didn’t seem fair that someone so caring and humble would be taken from the earth. She was one of those people who you would think would live forever. I tried to take solace in the fact that she passed away peacefully in her sleep, but even that was hard. When I made it home, I crawled into bed, not even bothering to change as I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning I didn't want to move from my bed even as someone was knocking on the door. The intense grief had immobilized me. The knocks on the door grew louder and more impatient. I tried to ignore them, they would go away eventually. The knocks didn't stop so I got up and went to the door. I thought about what I must look like, but didn't care enough to smooth my hair before I opened the door.

Jace walked into my apartment and hugged me. I couldn't stop myself, I started to sob in his arms. He was nearly carrying me to the couch. When we were sitting he didn't let go of me. He brushed my hair from my face and held me tightly to him.

“
I'm so sorry,” he whispered as I sobbed.

“
No, I'm sorry. You probably weren't expecting this. Why are you here?” I asked trying to pull myself away from him. I was embarrassed by my display of emotion, but he just pulled me to him again.

“
This is exactly what I was expecting, and it's exactly why I'm here. I'm not leaving you.”

The fact that this was going way beyond the call of duty for an art dealer didn't phase me. I couldn't think of a better person to be with at this moment. Not even Sara could comfort me like this. I think it must have been at that moment that I realized what I was feeling for Jace was more than a crush. It was obvious that on some level, I loved him.

He just held me as I cried, until I had fallen asleep in his arms. I don't know how long I was unconscious, but when I woke up, he was still there, holding me, looking at me. I stretched and eventually sat up. This time he let me up, probably realizing I needed to move my stiff joints.