Page 54 of Back to Me

Our opening night for the exhibit is tonight, and other than Sara’s absent behavior, I haven’t been able to think of much else. Tonight has to be perfect. Everything needs to be perfect.

Sara’s sadness has done nothing to help my growing doubt. Will this be enough for her? Will it be enough for me? It’s as if every doubt I’ve felt until this point in my life is suddenly magnified by a thousand.

I’m pouring Sara’s cup of coffee when Mr. Price calls.

“Good morning, Mr. Price.”

“Good morning, Graham. How are you feeling?”

Sighing, I open the refrigerator, grabbing the carton of cream. “Nervous, but ready. I don’t really know how to describe it. Maybe it just hasn’t sunk in yet,” I laugh.

“That’s normal,” he muses. Pausing, he clears his throat and asks, “How is Sara doing?”

“I think she’s feeling the same way. This is a very big deal to both of us.”

Grabbing two pieces of toast, I spread raspberry jam across both, my phone pressed between my shoulder and my ear.

“Totally understandable,” Mr. Price reassures. “Well, I called you to tell you I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“What? Why?” I ask, panicked. If he won’t be there, how will I know what to do? He’s the reason I’m even in this position.

“I’m sorry, Graham,” he sputters. “I’m sick. I’ve had a very sore throat and wouldn’t want to get anyone else sick.”

Disappointed, I drop my knife onto the counter. “I’m sorry you’re sick, but what will we do without you? I’ve never done anything like this before. I wouldn’t even know how to handle it all.”

“Don’t worry, I have it all covered. All of your pieces are already set up and in their proper places. All you have to do is show up. Besides, this is only the preview night, so think of it as the trial run before the actual showing.” He pauses, coughing several times into the phone. “Also,” he adds. “I’ve asked a colleague of mine to fill in for me. I’ve already filled her in on everything she needs to know about your pieces and your collaborative ones as well.”

My stomach turns, hoping tonight doesn’t turn into a complete disaster. If I wasn’t already on the verge of being a total nervous wreck, I am now.

Pouring the last of the coffee into my cup, I turn around as Sara walks into the kitchen, her hair pulled back loosely, several strands framing her face.

“Listen, Graham,” Mr. Price says. “I’ve got to get some rest, but I’ll keep in touch. I’ll have my phone on me. I may not respond right away, but I will get back to you as soon as I can. Apologize to Sara for me. I was so looking forward to meeting her.”

“I will. Thank you, Mr. Price.”

Intrigued, Sara lifts her mug, bringing the hot liquid to her bare pink lips. She arches her eyebrows, curious why I’m speaking to him so early in the morning.

“Goodbye, Graham.”

“Hope you feel better soon.”

Hanging up my phone, I toss it onto the counter and walk over to Sara. Kissing her on the lips, I back up and sit down on the barstool, resting my elbows on to the center island.

Sensing my hesitation, Sara asks, “Is everything okay?”

Her soft face stares at me from across the island. I fall in love with her all over again.

“Sort of,” I sigh. “Mr. Price is sick, so he called me to tell me he won’t be there tonight.”

Instantly, her face fills with panic. “Wh- What do you mean?” She quickly walks around the island, stopping in front of me.

Turning on my stool, I pull her body between my legs, my thighs resting against her hips. Lifting my arm, I graze my fingertips against her cheek, hoping to put her worries at ease.

“Don’t worry. He says a colleague of his will be there to help us with anything we need. He says everything is all set up, so the only thing we need to do is show up.”

Nodding, her lips form a flat line. Behind her unsure green eyes, I can feel her doubt. I place my hands on her lower back, tapping my fingers against her curves.

“Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

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