Chapter 3
RAVEN
The most prominent art gallery in the area offered to feature my art this month. I worked my butt off to create enough pieces to fill the space they were allotting me. I set the pieces against the wall, lined up like soldiers on guard.
“This is the one we want to highlight. So it needs to go here.” Francesca Benoit, the curator, pointed to my biggest and favorite piece. It was a huge painting of a wave crashing into rocks, but it was filled with a myriad of colors and held a powerful energy.
I moved it to the center of the wall she indicated and shuffled the others around it. Standing back, I took it all in. “Yes. That’s perfect. You certainly have a gift, Francesca.”
“You are the gifted one, my dear. I predict they will sell quickly.” Francesca continued to direct the placement of the pieces. There were only a couple that I suggested she place together in a certain order, to not only bring out the best in them, but so that the flow and progression of the display made sense.
My artist statement explained what I was going for with these pieces and explained the deeper meaning behind them. The way they were exhibited needed to be consistent with that. The theme was about the power and importance of water, and my pieces expressed the simplicity, complexity, softness, and unlimited power of water, and how essential it was to life. My appreciation for the environment and the beauty of nature were evident in each piece, and I hoped the viewers would recognize that.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I excused myself to step outside and take the call. “Hello?”
“Hi, Raven. It’s Gladys Renshaw.”
Oh no. I steeled myself for a lengthy conversation. “Hello, Gladys. Nice to?—”
“I was talking to Tillie yesterday about a massive and unexpected tax bill I just received. I have no choice but to sell the cabin that’s been in my family for over a hundred years. It breaks my heart and I’m just sick about it. I always thought it would be the family legacy, handed down from generation to generation.” She sniffled into the phone and her voice broke. “But things don’t always work out the way we plan.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Gladys. That must be hard.”
“Yes. I called Tillie in tears, unsure of what I should do.” She sniffled again and then her voice perked up. “Tillie suggested that I commission you to do a painting of the place before it sells, so I have something to remember it by, and also to pass down to my children. Do you have time now to do that for me?”
“It just so happens, I’m installing my latest work in a gallery today, and I don’t have any other pressing projects.” Not to mention that I desperately needed the money to get Clive fixed. My beloved car was pretty much on life support. This commission could either pay for the repairs or a different car.
“Great. I’d like you to start on Friday. Bring anything you need. I’d like you to stay and work on it right there to capture the feeling of the place. The cabin is open. Make yourself at home while you’re there. Lanie will be putting it on the market soon, so this needs to be done ASAP.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get it done. And hopefully, having a piece of it on your wall will make it easier to let it go.”
“I hope so too. Thank you so much, Raven. Tillie was right about commissioning you. She showed me your website, and it is stunning. I can’t wait to have a Raven Rhodes original in my home.” Gladys’ tone was now hopeful and excited. “So you’ll be there Friday morning to get started? It really is important?—”
“I’ll be there. Sorry to cut you off, Gladys. But I’ve got to go. The curator needs my help.”
“Okay, dear. I’ll text you the directions to the cabin. Good luck with your exhibit.”
“Thanks, Gladys.” I pocketed my phone and headed back inside to continue the installation. Tillie was one of my biggest supporters, and she referred people to me all the time for commissions and to visit my site and exhibits. I chuckled. A couple of Tillie’s friends had made… interesting requests. At least this one didn’t include any nudes. Not that I had a problem with the beauty of the human form, but when that form was in its eighties—well, everyone has their limits.
Spending a few days alone at Gladys’s cabin to work on this commission will be the perfect way to kick off my self-dating initiative.
Opening the door to my apartment at the end of the day, I was greeted by my rescue dog, Munch. No matter what mood I was in, seeing his entire body wag with excitement at my return home always made me smile.
“Hey. Big guy. Did you miss me?”
Munch answered with a juicy slurp across my face and almost knocked me over. He was a German Shepherd mix, and had the characteristics of the breed, except for ears that flopped forward like they were broken in half. The bent ears rotated around like antennae when listening, which made him even more comical. He also had a perpetual goofy grin and was the most lovable and fiercely protective dog I’d ever met.
“Yeah. Who needs a man when I have you? Isn’t that right, Munch?” I ruffled his ears, and he rolled over onto his back for belly scratches.
“That you, Raven?” My roommate called out from her bedroom. A silly question, as if my dog would let anyone else in the door without a single bark. And Cassidy knew Munch always watched out the window for me to come home.
“Yep. Just walked in.”
Cassidy emerged and plopped onto the couch with her legs curled under her. “How did the installation go?”
“Great! It’s amazing how much better the pieces look when displayed in a gallery. Francesca really knows what she’s doing. Hopefully, she gets us a lot of sales with it.”
“She has a pretty wide reach, right? Just being associated with her should help your visibility. Don’t you think?” Cass understood how important this exhibit could be for my career, and how hard I’d work to get a break like this.
“Yeah. And now that she’s featured me, hopefully others will do the same. This could open a lot of doors for me and be the boost my career needs.”
“I’m so excited for you. Your work is amazing. It’s about time word gets out.”
I sat on the other end of the couch, and Munch climbed right up onto my lap. As if a sixty pounder qualifies as a lapdog. “Speaking of word getting out. Tillie recommended me to her friend, Gladys, to commission a piece for her. She wants me to start on Friday and stay through the weekend to get it done. Wanna come with me to enjoy a little weekend getaway?”
She shook her head, “Wish I could, but my parents are having a hard time with Grandma and asked me to come home for the weekend. I took Monday and Tuesday off to make it a long weekend, so we can get more done. It’s getting close to the time she’ll need to move into a place where she can get more help, but she’s as stubborn as they come and refuses to even talk about it.”
“Oof. That’s got to be hard.” I wasn’t close to my grandparents like she was, but my heart went out to Cass and her parents. It would be awful to watch a loved one struggle like that when there was so little you could do to help. “I feel so bad for her. It can’t be easy getting to that point. Not easy for any of you.” I got up and poured myself a glass of lemonade. “Well, since you’ll be gone, Munch and I will have a nice quiet weekend away then.”
“You said you were going to date yourself. Maybe you could make a romantic getaway out of it.” As Cass took a sip of coffee, an impish sparkle lit in her eyes. “Actually, since you haven’t even had a first date, taking yourself on a weekend away would be taking this new relationship to the next level already. Moving kinda fast, don’t you think?”
“Well, we have known each other for a really long time. No need to tell old stories or waste time with small talk.” I returned to the couch and had to wiggle my butt to wedge myself in next to Munch, who didn’t budge.
“All kidding aside, are you sure you want to give up on love altogether?” Cass asked, blowing over the rim of her steaming cup. “Maybe you need to give it one more try and actually tell Nash how you feel.”
My hand, resting on Munch’s back, became too heavy and dropped to the floor. Tell Nash? I shivered. “No way. I’ll not let myself be humiliated by that arrogant oaf one more time. It was bad enough the first time I threw myself at him. He responded like I was a maggoty corpse and ran off to get as far away from me as possible.”
“Ew. I really didn’t need that visual to understand your point. Good thing I wasn’t planning to eat anytime soon.” She set her cup on the coffee table. “So you’ve been at each other’s throats ever since. I’m telling you, sparks fly anytime you’re in the same zip code. Imagine if you put all that heat in another direction. It would be nuclear.”
“It would be a blowup all right. I think we’d kill each other if left unsupervised for more than a few minutes.”
“Neither of you fights like that with anyone else. You and Rowan have always pushed each other’s buttons, but never like this.”
“That’s what I mean,” I gestured with my hand extended to accentuate my point. “Anyone who brings out this much hostility in me would not be a good match. You, of all people, should know that.”
Cass paused for a second with her finger to her mouth and then moved her head slowly from side to side. “Under normal circumstances, I would agree. But I think this hostility comes from something else. Something you need to figure out.”
“I think he just brings out the worst in me, and it’s about time I accepted that and moved on.”
Cassidy pulled a notebook out of a bag that had been sitting on the floor next to her. She handed it to me. “Here. Take this with you and use it to journal about your thoughts, feelings, whatever garbage you’re carrying around. You’ll be surprised how much lighter you’ll feel when you get it all out there.”
“Nah, I’m not a writer, so I don’t think?—”
She slammed the book into my hands. “Take it. Don’t argue. I’ve watched you struggle with this for years. If you really want to move on, you need a way to let all that stuff from the past go, or it’ll keep you anchored. Believe me. I know what I’m talking about.”
I slumped in my chair, unable to come up with a valid argument. She was right. I needed to do something to get over Nash, but Lord knew, nothing I’d tried had worked. If this could help, maybe I should give it a try. I sighed loudly and accepted the book. “Fine. I’ll take it. But no promises that I’ll actually use it.”
Writing in a journal wouldn’t help. I could fill every page and the men in the dating pool would still be creeps. And Nash Porter would still be the bane of my existence.