A Rose by Any Other Name

Chapter 37

And then there was silence and I was hearing his breaths on the phone. I swallowed. "I...Miss you, too, Mike." I barely heard myself over the sound of blood roaring in my ears.

I heard the soft intake of breath signalling he was about to reply. Then, I hung up.

I was sweating through my shirt, panicking. How could he just say all that to me? And, how could I just sit there and listen to it? I put my phone on the kitchen table, staring at it and wondering if he'd call back. "Fuck!" I yelled, slamming the table with the flat of my hand. Sol made a surprised noise scrabbling away from my feet and running to the corner of the kitchen.

I stood up, and crouched down to where she was. "Shit. I'm sorry, Sol. I just-I lost it for a sec." I reached out slowly, scratching that sweet spot behind her ears. Her eyes slanted closed and her body relaxed as she purred contentedly. "You like me right, Sol? I give you food and water, and if you lie on my lap, that's enough? There don't need to be any dumb emotions in the way. I don't have to miss you since you're right here. I don't have to miss the way you smile at me like I light up your day. I don't have to miss the way my heart feels full to bursting when you kiss me. I don't have to miss your wonderful cooking, or your wonderful smile, or the way you talk to me in Spanish when you think I'm still sleeping. Or the way you're always talking about something, the way silence feels different when you're not there to fill it."

I picked up my cat and she gave me a confused meow. "I don't have to worry about any of that." I hugged Sol to my chest, pushing my fingers and my head into her soft fur, trying not to cry too loudly.

#
The Quarrel ended up being a really enchanting venue. High ceilings, great lighting and quirky, dark and sleek architecture. Lots of empty bare walls and spaces to position my art. My pieces were spread between five connected rooms and each room had a theme. The idea was that there would be a passage between pre accident me and post accident me. The effect was strange because I did notice a certain difference in the way my art changed. My new style was both harder and softer, harsher colours but softer themes.

I was exhibiting about thirty pieces altogether, everything from landscapes, to portraits, to stills, to impressionist renderings. It was a mishmash of different things but I found myself at the art gallery the day of the opening helping the workings arrange everything in its proper order and where the light or lacktherof would hit every piece best.

"Okay. You're going to do great! You just have to walk in there, talk to a few people. Keep the whole 'I can't be bothered air' going, they'll lap it up."  Darren was giving me a pep talk from the dressing room before I went out to address the gallery goers.

I frowned as Darren fixed my bow tie. He'd had Tommy look through my wardrobe and select the most appropriate thing for the art gallery opening. For my art gallery opening. I mean sure, it was just one night. But it would be my night.

I'd ended up wearing dress pants, expensive looking shoes, and a vest over a dress shirt. The pants and vest were a deep luxurious blue whereas the shirt was a pale blue. Darren said a suit was too formal for my image, whatever that was. Apparently, I was supposed to be aloof but not too distant in order to increase the allure for my art.

I had been surprised that so many people I knew were willing to attend. Everyone at the tattoo shop, Darren, Tommy, Roe and even her mom. Ky mentioned that he was bringing his partners along with his children just to ensure the event wasn't too much for my delicate sensibilities. Okay, he didn't say that but he may as well have. Luciana had told me she was coming, too. Even Kevin had emailed me asking for details on the event.

The beginning of the art showcase passed by in a rush. I gave a brief opening speech focusing on the faces of the people I knew so I wouldn't freak out, addressing Darren and Chrissa more than anyone. There were so many people there, from my supporters, to art critics, to a few celebrities who had seen my tattoo work and it was overwhelming. The stench of wealth was so thick that I realized I was in an entirely different world. One with berkin bags, Rolex watches and people walking around with bichon frises in their purses.