“That’s kind of gross,” Greg said. He put his cigarette back up to his lips and took a long draw.
I followed suit. “It would only be worse if your daughter’s boobs were on display for a bunch of strangers.”
“Oh…um…I thought Nicole told you…”
“Yeah, and I didn’t believe a word of it. Why do you think I’m smoking?”
“Heh…yeah, I guess that explains it.”
We went back in together, and I was accosted by Jeremy, Rachel, Maria, and Ben. Maria was holding baby Jonathan, and Nicole was going gaga over him. It probably would have made me nervous if it weren’t for all the people trying to sidle up to me. I surrounded myself with people I knew and tried to avoid everyone else.
I sold eight of the drawings that night, two of which went for over a thousand dollars each. Kathrine wrote me a check for everything that was sold, which totaled almost five grand. I couldn’t believe it. Nicole jumped up and down when she saw how much they went for, and Gardner gave me a hug.
“My first show netted a whopping seventy-five dollars,” he said with a laugh. “You just might make a living at this after all.”
“It’s amazing what a little publicity surrounding a local can do,” Kathrine said with a nod. “The ones that fetched the most were bought by some big-name collectors—they’re hoping you’ll become very popular, and they think they got a deal. One of them offered me five thousand for the woman’s torso.”
“No.” I glared at her.
“I know,” Kathrine said with a roll of her eyes, “but those are the ones that would have fetched the most. Just saying…”
“They’re hot,” Jeremy said, and his eyebrows danced up and down a little. Rachel smacked him before I got the chance.
“I have to agree,” Ben said. “You should have put those up for sale.”
“No way in hell,” Greg said, coming to my defense. “It was bad enough having them on display!”
I nodded in agreement.
“Time to celebrate,” Gardner said as he took Kathrine’s hand. He was a master of diversion. We all headed out to eat, and everyone toasted my success. Both Gardner and Kathrine seemed pretty sure that’s exactly what it had been, and I had to admit—making my own money felt pretty cool.
As I tipped the glass of champagne to my lips, I was reminded that being an artist wasn’t going to be an easy living. Tough work didn’t bother me, but I was determined to be able to hold my own and provide for Nicole as best I could. I knew money would never really be an issue for us, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to provide for my Rumple anyway. Was that sexist? I didn’t know and didn’t care. I knew one thing for sure: I loved drawing and was even starting to enjoy painting as well. If this was something I could really do—and support Nicole as well—I was going to be satisfied.
But it wasn’t going to be easy.
In The Scottish Play, Shakespeare wrote, “I have no spur to prick the sides of my intent, but only vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, and falls on th'other.” Somehow, I was going to have to gather both my ambition and my strength if art was going to be my calling.
Now to turn it into something more than just a dream.
EPILOGUE
ONSIDE
“Come on! Come on! Come on!”
I half jogged down the edge of the field, yelling at the seven first-graders who ran up and down the pitch in a little clustered formation—like they were all worker bees and the ball was the queen. It didn’t matter what position they were supposed to be in, they all ended up within three feet of each other.
“Spread out!”
“Stay on your side!”
“Jonathan! You’re on defense! Get back!”
Jonathan Walsh continued to trail after the ball until he saw his mother on the sidelines, holding his little sister and a pouch of Capri Sun. He stopped right in front of her.
“Can I have a juice?”
“Here you go, sweetie,” Maria said as she held out a bag of sugar water for the kid. He stood there, staring blankly at the ball and sucking through the straw as the other team went right past him and made a goal.