A Bridge of Her Own (27 page)

There were nine or so Richmond area bridges that crossed the James. If she could draw them all, she would bring them to that gallery downtown to see if they had any interest in showing them. She decided to hold off on contacting Gabe until she was done. She wanted to practice putting herself first for a change. The water was so wonderful she was in danger of falling asleep. Once she felt completely like mush, she got up and changed into comfy yoga pants and an old t-shirt.

She didn’t feel like making anything for dinner, so she had a bowl of cereal. She filled Lacey in on her plan to see if the gallery might have any interest in her work. Somewhere, she still had the contact information of the guy at the gallery. She had to laugh at herself. Here she had barely finished one piece, and she was dreaming of an art show.

For Lacey, her demeanor seemed remarkable, given all of the recent stress. She wondered, though, how long Jane would put off listening to Wyatt’s message.

Jane spent the evening doing random Internet queries as to the possibility of showing her work. It all seemed very confusing and boiled down to who you knew at first. She was encouraged to see that since there was a healthy art community in Richmond, there were various venues that may be interested. What she was surprised to learn was that it may be simpler than she had originally assumed.

She figured out that, once she had completed her project of all the bridges, she would need to take a picture of each one. She would then save the files to a disk. Then, the disk could be submitted to local galleries. Depending on
their focus, they could elect to show her work, but she would need to figure out what to price the pieces, and the gallery could get up to 50% of the profit.

It was late, though, and since she was dreading work the next day, she turned off her computer and went to bed. Work was a trial. Luckily, there weren’t any reporters, but that did not stop her co-workers from gawking at her most of the day. Her boss could tell how uncomfortable she was and told her she could leave early. Once back home, after finally finding that business card, she called the gallery, asking for Adam. After explaining her plan, he agreed to get the gallery owner to preview her work.

She felt giddy hanging up the phone. Taking a deep breath, she sat down to listen to Wyatt’s voicemail.

“Hi Jane.
I gotta say I didn’t see that one coming. I really did love you, and I hope everything works out for you. Goodbye.”

She didn’t delete the message knowing Lacey would want to hear it. Wyatt was actually not being a jerk about the whole thing. Wonders never cease, she thought, shaking her head and got right back to her drawing. She planned to approach each bridge at a different time of day. Her current piece felt midday with a clear and bright sky. It was almost complete. She really only needed to sign and seal it. She took a step back from it, taking it in. In its design, the dark steel interlocking triangles were bold against the cloudless blue sky. The James River below it seemed quiet and calm. She had done the best she could to recreate the image from her dream. She wanted to it to feel as peaceful as it had to her.

She started stressing out again about work the next day. Finally giving up, she called her boss at home to ask if there was any way she could take some vacation starting the next day. He did not seem thrilled by the short notice, but Jane had been such a good worker, and since her father was a good friend, he agreed. It felt like a giant weight was lifted off of her now that she could devote this time to her bridge project.

She could not really explain it to her parents or her boss but she really felt like she had to do this. She could finally acknowledge that she never really moved on after her break up with Wyatt. Sure, she had an apartment and a job, but she was not creating anything. She was living a placeholder life, and she would never be happy unless she did something to change that.

This felt right to Jane, like a way to speak for herself without having to interrupt any future basketball games. She got started on the next bridge right away. Her perspective for the bridge across route 288 was a winter morning, the sun just a glow from behind the farms on Robious. The bridge was simpler in design versus the first one she had drawn. The real movement of this piece was the gradiation of the colors in the sky. There was an orange glow emanating from the southern tree line to the charcoal gray of the retreating night sky. The river below the bridge boasted the white-tipped wake of a now unseen boat.

Lacey’s return from work roused Jane from her drawing. She ran downstairs to greet her and get some food. She had not eaten all day and munched on some chips as she made a sandwich. Lacey filled her in on her day. She was really enjoying her gig at the orthodontist's office. When she finished her food, she brought Lacey upstairs to see what she was working on. The Nickel Bridge picture was complete, and the Route 288 Bridge was fairly complete.

“Which one will you do next?” Lacey asked, sorting through their photos.

“Maybe the Willey,” Jane pointed to one in Lacey’s hand. “I think it would look really cool with fog,” Jane continued.

“Oh, I totally am with you there,” Lacey replied.

Walking back downstairs, Lacey asked. “What happens when you have finished them all?”

“I spoke to Adam from that gallery, and he seemed pretty interested, but it truly comes down to the owner,” Jane replied.

“I was actually wondering about Gabe?” Lacey said.

“I’m still all about Gabe. I just want to finish this first. He can be very distracting.”

“Jane!” Lacey exclaimed, trying her best to seem shocked. “What about your job?” she continued.

“I’m not going to quit or anything. I’ve taken a bit of vacation to work on this,” Jane replied.

The rest of the week, she worked almost nonstop, breaking for food and sleep and one time for a shower at Lacey’s request. She had completed eight pieces and was working on her ninth. It was the Manchester Bridge at
nighttime. The reflection of the moon glowing from the river and the Wachovia Towers, not that Wachovia even existed anymore. she just didn’t know what people called them now. It didn’t feel finished, but she could not figure out what it was missing. At one point, she considered adding a man looking over the edge, contemplating his own mortality, but it felt too morbid.

Then she remembered that she had read once that an eagle nested somewhere high on one of the downtown office buildings. She finally added a large predator-like bird perched on the side of the bridge looking into the river.
Possibly for his next meal. It made it feel less ominous and more hopeful, at least for the bird versus the fish.

Out of vacation time, she went back to work. That evening, she had been invited to her parents’ house for dinner. She brought her portfolio with her and set them up one by one in the kitchen. She borrowed her mom’s newish digital camera to take a picture of each. Then she saved them to a disk as requested by the gallery. Once the disk was finished, she held it in front of her nose and, squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered a wish to the disk that the people of the gallery would like it.

She was like this when her father walked into the room. Blushing, she wrote her name on it with a magic marker and then slipped it into an envelope. Her father winked at her and came over to her artwork and looked at each, one by one. She had used different mediums: oil, watercolor, pastel, pen, and charcoal. They each had a different feel but the same theme: movement and change.

“Jane, these are really good,” he said proudly.

“Thanks, Dad,” Jane said, beaming. “I’m going to submit them for consideration at an art gallery downtown."

“That sounds very important, Janey.
A proper artist. I am very proud of you, sweetheart. You have been through quite a bit these last few months and—” He was interrupted by the dinner call.

Her father gushed and gushed so much about her work that her mother gave up and left the table to go look at it right away. She rushed back into the room giddy and clapping her hands.

“Jane, they are so beautiful,” she said, sitting back down.

After they ate, she brought out some cookies, which made Jane laugh because every time her mother brought out cookies it made her feel like she was seven again. Like a child, she was hopeful she would get more than one. She had three. She collected her things and returned home. Lacey had been out on a date with Jack. This may have been Lacey’s longest relationship since college, Jane thought. She was happy for her. She wondered if maybe Lacey had held herself back from committing in relationships to not hurt Jane. Sometimes, Jane wondered what she had ever done to deserve such a good friend.

The next day on her lunch break, she rushed over to meet Adam and the owner, Phil, at the gallery. When she walked in, Phil stopped her, asking if she was the girl from the basketball game video. Blushing, she nodded, reaching out to shake his hand.

He elbowed Adam. “Why didn’t you tell me she was the girl from the video?”

“What video?” Adam asked, waving to Jane.

“You have got to see this,” Phil said, taking his phone out.

“Hm hm,” Jane murmured, trying to catch their attention.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Phil said, putting his phone away. “You brought us a disk of your pieces.”

“Yes,” she said, taking it from her purse and handing it to him. “How soon should I hear back from you?” she asked.

“Very soon,” Adam said reassuringly.

She went back to work and had to stop checking her phone. She did her best to focus on her work. She had to be realistic. There was no way she would hear back from them today. Once home, she took a long bath with bubbles. She purposely left her phone in her bedroom so she would not keep looking at it. Trying to de-stress and just let the universe do what it may was harder then she thought. Giving up, she put on pajamas and went downstairs to watch TV with a bowl of ice cream. Ronald curled up in her lap, wanting to lick the spoon.

Lacey came home from work not long after that. She had to work a bit late since they were working on file organization to delete the patients who had not had an appointment in five years.

“Very healthy dinner,” she remarked, nodding at the bowl in Jane’s hand.

“You are what you eat,” she grinned.

“How’d the gallery thing go?” Lacey asked, kicking off her shoes.

“The owner recognized me from the video, but I don’t know if that’s a bad thing. He seemed excited about it. I just need him to be as excited about my work.”

Lacey joined her in having a bowl of ice cream herself for dinner as well. “How’s Jack?” Jane asked.

“I really like him,” Lacey said, smiling.

“Maybe we can all go out some time so I can get to know him,” Jane went on.

“That’s a great idea.
Maybe dinner and a movie?” Lacey replied.

“I’m game,” Jane agreed.

"Why don't you call Gabe and invite him?" Lacey asked.

Jane shook her head. "I don't know what to say to him."

"How about I miss you and want to see you again?" Lacey said sweetly.

"I still feel so embarrassed by the whole thing," Jane said.
"Maybe soon."

There was a comedy they had both wanted to see, and Lacey was pretty sure Jack did as well, so they set it up for the following Saturday.

Thursday morning, Jane heard from Adam. He let her know they were very interested in setting something up. They had been looking at the work of a local sculptor as well and thought their pieces would work together enough to have a show. He said that they would draw up a contract, and if she was agreeable and the other artist as well, they could set something up for as soon as three weeks from now. She gave him her email address for him to forward a contract to. She sat at her desk, shaking her hands as she waited for it.

She forwarded it to her father so he could confirm it was legit. Once she had his okay, the gallery set up a joint meeting with her and the sculptor. Her father went with her for moral support but waited in the car. She was a bit early and was there before the sculptor. She sat and small talked with Adam until he arrived. She stood up, surprised that it was Gabe’s friend Matt.

“Hey, Matt,” she said warmly. “I didn’t know you were a sculptor.”

“Are you the other artist?” Matt said, giving her a hug.

“I am,” she replied.

“Busy girl,” he said winking.

The owner, Phil, brought his laptop over to them and pulled up each of their pieces, one by one. Jane could tell why he thought they would work well together. Matt’s work was abstract mechanical metal pieces that did seem to speak to the bridges she had drawn in an almost engineering way. Jane wondered what Matt thought of her work. She didn’t have to wait long because he placed his hands on the table and looked at her.

“I’m in. What do you say, Jane?”

She smiled and said, “Sign me up."

The owner seemed thrilled and asked them to rise and follow him. He explained to them how he intended to lay the pieces out. Jane’s pieces still needed to be professionally framed but he knew a guy, and it was part of their contract that he
take care of that portion of the styling. He wanted them to have a thin silver frame and a thick white beveled mat. Jane agreed, happy because that was how she had pictured them as well. Matt had twelve pieces, and he would stagger their pieces along the walls with three pieces to a wall. One wall with two of Jane’s pieces and one of Matt’s and then the next with two of Matt’s pieces and one of Jane’s and so on and so on.