Page 1 of Waiting for Sunshine

CHAPTER1

SHANE

As the heartacheof moving away from California settles in, I am reminded of the day I moved out here six years ago to attend art school at California College of the Arts. I was more than ready to get out of my hometown, leaving all the tragedy and horrible memories behind. Instead of experiencing joy and excitement for my new adventure, I was drowning in my sudden grief and heartache. I struggled during my first year away; keeping in close contact with my three best friends back home and pouring myself into my art, helped a lot.

Life in San Francisco turned out to not be so bad. I met my boyfriend, Pete, during my senior year of college. I had been at the beach, painting the waves crashing up on shore and the beautiful sunset; taking in the calming scenery around me. I’ve had a deep connection with the ocean since moving here. The symbolism of the way the ocean waters can come and wipe the sand clean, giving it a fresh start resonates deeply with me. The waves acted as calming music to my ears as I watched beachgoers surf, run, sunbathe, and – stop directly in front of me.

There stood Pete, in a freaking sweater vest and khakis on the beach, talking away on the phone, planted directly in front of where I had my canvas set up. I couldn't see any of my previous inspiration, and while I tried to be patient, thinking he was bound to move sometime, he did not. I finally piped up and let him know he was blocking my view. I hadn’t bothered hiding my look of annoyance when he looked over at me with a smug look saying,“Maybe I am the view.”

I giggled like a schoolgirl at the remark that I now find extremely egotistical. We talked for a while before exchanging numbers, and the rest is history. We were dating within a week, and I moved in with him a couple of months later.

In the same year, right before graduating college, I also landed a job working at an art gallery run by Hugh Burgess. I was lucky enough to nail the interview and land the job as an assistant curator. My dream has always been to have my own art hung in a studio someday, but this job was a great way to get my foot in the door. Every artist knows making good, connecting relationships is just as important as the art itself. I have worked there for about two years now, the same duration Pete and I have been dating.

Things have been a little different between us lately, though. He has been working late nights at the accounting firm he works for, and I spend any spare time I have painting in one of the “creative spaces” as Hugh calls them, atThe Gallery.Yes, the name of the art gallery I work at is calledThe Gallery.Because in Hugh’s mind, it’s the only one.

I try to be intentional when Pete and I are both home, which is rare. I am always asking him if he wants to go out to dinner, or even take a night walk on the beach, but he always claims to be too tired and goes straight to sleep. In a last-ditch effort to revive our relationship, I decided to surprise him at work today for our two year anniversary and take him lunch from his favorite sushi place.

Imagine how completely shocked I was when, instead, I caught him in the act of cheating on me with his secretary,Mandy.I hadn’t seen her at her desk outside, so I just walked in. So confident, big grin on my face, hopeful I would be able to mend whatever part of our relationship was still hanging by a thread. Ugh, how humiliating. He wasn’t just kind of cheating on me either, this was a full service, the door should have been locked, the relationship was over immediately, type of cheating.

I decided in the heat of the moment to throw the sushi right at him. It probably wasn’t the most mature route, but I did feel a smidge better when a wasabi roll went rogue, slapping Mandy across the face. I let him knowveryclearly I would be gone when he got home, and to lose my number. In case the idiot wasn’t smart enough to figure out for himself that I was done, with a capital DONE, with him.

I rushed out of the office, trying my best to catch my breath when I got to my Jeep. I have never been so hurt and embarrassed in my life. Not even when my parents started swing dancing at my sweet sixteen, and that felt mortifying at the time. I immediately put my car in drive and peeled out of the parking lot. I only got so far down the street before my vision was too blurry to drive. I decided to pull over and call Taylor.

Taylor Clark has been my best friend since birth, she is more like a sister to me, since I never had any of my own. Our mothers were best friends growing up, so it felt so natural for us to cling to each other and remain best friends as we got older. I’m glad things happened the way they did for us because I wouldn’t have been able to pick a better best friend for myself if I tried. Amidst my breakdown, I just have to call her to tell her what happened and find out what the hell I was supposed to do now.

“Hello? Shane, is everything okay?” she asks, probably hearing my sobs as soon as she answered the phone.

“He cheated on me, Taylor.” I manage to choke out between the tears.

“That bastard!” she yells. “How did you find out? Are you okay? Do I need to fly out and kick his scrawny ass?” she fires off the questions while rifling through something on the other end of the line. I wouldn’t doubt if she was actually trying to pack a bag to fly out here and do just that.

Taylor has always been very protective and takes no bullshit from anyone. She would 100% come kick his ass if I said yes. I let out a laugh through my tears.

“I found out when I walked in to surprise him with lunch, but he was already having Mandy.” She gasps. “I’m not really okay, I just found out the person I’ve loved for 2 years is banging someone else behind my back. But, no, don’t fly out here. Just tell me what to do, Tay.” I break into a sob again.

I hear her sigh. “Shaney, I am so sorry. He’s trash for doing this to you, and Iwillkick his ass one day for this. What do youwantto do?” her question has my mind swirling.

I run through different plans and ideas of how I could manage to live out here alone.

I lived on campus during college so I never had to find a place of my own or a roommate. Right after I graduated, I moved in with Pete and we split the rent. I have never lived on my own out here, and I know all too well that I won’t be able to afford it with my current salary.

Finding someone off the internet to room with just sounds like a recipe for disaster, so I’m left with zero ideas at the end of my thought process.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to leave California, I love my job atThe Galleryand working for Hugh. He’s the best boss I could ever ask for, and he’s taken me under his wing showing me the ropes of gallery work. But I just don’t see how I could manage it. You know how I feel about living with strangers, but I can’t afford to live alone. I have no idea what to do.” I let out a shaky breath.

“Well, given everything you just said I know this may not be ideal. But, my guest room is available. If you want to come back home, it’s yours.” She offers.

Living with Taylor is the most appealing thought of the hour. She works as an ER nurse and her hours are crazy sometimes, but living with each other is something we’ve always talked about. We both hated that we weren’t able to experience college life together, but I got a scholarship to one of the best art schools in California and I couldn’t turn it down.

I’m not sure San Francisco ever truly felt like my home, I was here for the sole purpose of chasing my dreams, furthering my career and doing it on a scholarship. But nowhere has really felt like home since I left Nashville. Even when I moved in with Pete, everything washis;I felt more like a house guest than anything.

I hate the idea of leavingThe Galleryso much, but maybe one day I’ll make my way back out here to it. Maybe one day I’ll call this place home. For now, it looks like my best and most attainable option is going back home to live with my best friend.

“Are you sure, Tay? What happened to your old roommate? Tana, right? I thought she like, just moved in.” I ask, remembering our conversation about her new roommate Tana last month. “Ugh, she was so nasty, Shane. If she hadn’t bailed on me, I was on the verge of kicking her out.” The thought of Taylor ever kicking anyone out was wild to me, because even though she’s feisty as hell, she’s still kind and doesn’t like to hurt other people’s feelings.

“You were not,” I argue back.

“She clipped her toenails in the kitchen Shane. In. The. Motherfreaking. KITCHEN!” she yells back, making me hold my phone further from my ear. “She was disgusting and one very well-manicured foot out the door.” She makes a gagging noise into the phone making me laugh.

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