Page 8 of We're Just Friends
“Please call me Gregory,” he put one hand on his hip and waved his hand at me.
He seemed a lot more down to earth than other artists we had showcased in the past. He was calm, not too flashy, not too gothic, just an average guy. I nodded at him. "Of course. You don't have to help me, I'll bring them up, and we can talk about your thoughts on hanging."
He nodded, looking around, seeming kind of lost. His eyes shifted back to me, and his face scrunched, his hand coming to his chest. “Sorry if I seem nervous, it’s just that, well… I am. I’m not good in this type of environment. You know, stuffy people sipping champagne while pretending to be impressed by paint on a canvas.”
There was a slight pause of silence before we both burst into laughter. It immediately took the tension out of the room. Gregory said what I always wanted to say.
“Yeah, some of the people who come to these showings can be a bit stuffy," I said. "Really, just be you. I know that sounds like the advice a mom would give their kid, but these people are already walking in wanting to know you because you have a name in the art world. You could be anyone you wanted, and they would still want to be around you. You really are talented, too.”
I walked over to a painting of his. In the foreground was a city, intricately painted and small. Behind it was a vast dead forest, the cagey limbs towering over it with a crimson sky above. “I absolutely love this one.”
“Oh, that’s one of my favorites too,” he said, walking over and running his hands over the canvas. “I grew up in the Midwest and am kind of a former outdoorsy guy turned city kid. I just think that people get too wrapped up in the digital world and city life. That’s kinda where I got the idea to put the trees like that. Is it too cliché?"
I giggled and shook my head. “It’s refreshing. So many artists intentionally try to be overly deep with their artwork, and there’s really no reason to be that way. Most of the time, the meaning gets lost to the ones that purchase it.”
“I’m not sure if Helen told you, but this is my first showing. I’ve never done this before.” He put his hands in his back pockets and surveyed his work. "I've sold a lot of work, but until now, it's all been through the site and agent. I was terrified of an opening. Helen talked me into it."
I was impressed by that. I knew that it was a dream for artists to have their own opening, but he wanted his art to speak for itself. “No, she didn’t tell me that, but you have nothing to worry about. Have you at least been to other art openings, just to get an idea of what to expect?”
"Oh yeah," he laughed, putting his hand on my arm. "It's kind of a requirement for us. Besides, I once had the same dream as all other artists to have that big gallery opening, but I'm not good with politics, and that really is what it is, politics. I wanted to immerse myself in my art and not have that worry in the back of my mind whether I was painting the right thing for the gallery or the buyers. I wanted it to just come naturally."
I walked over to another of his paintings, a large canvas with a bunch of fruit in a bowl. “Ah, the classic fruit bowl painting. This is my kind of art.” I held it up and admired it before putting it in the trolley. “We actually do get some people who weren’t born with silver spoons in their mouth. As for the ones who were, just be casual and yourself. Trust me. Nobody is worth feeling insecure over, plus they’re here to see your work and give you their money.”
Gregory nodded with a smile and helped me load some more artwork on the trolley. I didn't stop him, I could tell it helped with his nerves. “What about dirty jokes,” he said with a smirk.
I laughed and shook my head. “Probably not the best crowd for that, although Helen and I would probably get a kick out of it. It’ll be refreshing to break the cycle of typical artist, you know the ones who tend to act smarter than they really are. You seem like a really laid back, easygoing kind of guy. Just go with that, and you’ll be fine.”
We took the trolley out into the showroom and pulled the pieces out. I told Gregory about my vision for the show, and for once, an artist wanted to listen to me. He was all about it. “I hope you don't mind, I can't watch, it'll make me too nervous. I’m gonna go get ready for the opening."
"No, no, of course not," I said, handing the instructions over to the staff. "This is the boring part anyways."
He put his hands together and bowed to me before hurrying from the showroom. I felt like I did when I curated my first few openings, still excited for the art, in awe of the talent, and motivated. It was a nice feeling. Everything for the last few months had felt like it was bearing down on me. Now all I had to do was get everything ready so I could go have dinner with Caley and Annie before heading back here for the showing. Seeing them was going to be the highlight of my night.
* * *
The restaurant wasbusy as it always was. It wasn't like there were a million places to eat in River Valley. I loved our small town and the fact that despite my broken dreams of marriage, Caley would get to grow up there just like I had. She was much more outgoing then I had been as a kid, and I hoped she would escape the bullies. I hadn't been so lucky growing up.
The smell of Italian food made my stomach grumble as I walked in, looking around for the girls. Annie put her hand up, sitting in the back corner booth.
“There you are,” I said as I slid into the booth. “How was your day, Caley?”
I looked at my daughter and smiled, brushing my hand over her beautiful blonde hair. She was the spitting image of me when I was her age. The only thing Cam was her nose, and her big full lips.
“Good," she sighed, rubbing her cheek. "I missed you, Mommy. You look pretty.”
I kissed her cheek and grinned. "Not as pretty as you."
"Prettiest girl I've ever seen," Annie said with a grin. "Except me, of course."
Caley giggled loudly. I smiled at Annie and tucked my purse next to me. It was always hard to have dinner with them on nights like this. Afterward, I had to go back to the gallery for the opening, and Annie was going to stay with Caley. As soon as I was there with them, though, I didn't want to leave. “What are you two going to do tonight?”
“We’re gonna have a sleepover, aren’t we Caley?” Caley smiled and nodded. “I have popcorn, and you get to pick out a movie to watch. I also have the new Disney channel, and I know how much you love Disney!”
“I’m gonna be a princess,” Caley said as the waiter walked over with a pitcher of water and glasses.
Annie poured water into a kids' cup for Caley, who immediately put it to her lips and began drinking.
The waitress was no older than sixteen and smiled through her braces as she took a pen from her apron. "What can I get you tonight?"
