Holden

I'm staring at my phone. It's 8:55A.M. on Monday. Is this phone actually going to ring? I've been nervous about this for about twelve hours. When I'm nervous I don't eat or sleep. My stomach has been hurting. It sucks.

   Last night I picked up Landon up from Julia's house and we got sushi before coming back to the house. I sat across from my brother, trying to eat, listening him to ramble on about whatever. But I couldn't stop thinking about this phone call.

   My brother seems completely oblivious to my anxiousness, which seems to be amplified now because I'm thinking so much about Maya, too. I should tell him. I should just spit it out. I'm feeling things about Maya. I need to figure it out. I need to talk to her.

   But I don't say it. I know what he'll say. He'll tell him to leave it be and move on. He doesn't want any of that stuff from the past coming back up again. Landon was hurt by all of that, too. I can't forget that.

   I do tell Landon about the phone interview and he wishes me luck, but also says I don't need it. After I drive him back to school, I am wired. I want to sleep but I can't, not even a little. I call to check in on Eddie, and Mom says he's doing good. And then I go to the studio. The half done painting from when I was interrupted and had to rush to Mom's house is still there, on the easel. I look at it for a few minutes before deciding to leave it be, for now.

   An hour later, I am laying in bed, begging sleep to come. Honey comes in and lays beside me, sensing my need to relax. She rarely sleeps in my bed but I welcome her tonight.

   Now, I'm staring at my phone. Three more minutes pass and I almost give up. I just about put my phone down and walk away, but then it starts to ring.

  The caller ID says NYC Lights Gallery and I let it ring twice before swiping to answer.

   "Hello, Holden Prescott speaking."

   "Hello, Holden! This is Mandy Coleta, and my partner Josie Childs is on the line, as well," Mandy says. She sounds young, and nice.

   "Hello, Holden," another voice says.

   "Hi."

   "Thanks for taking our call. We really were just crossing our fingers you'd get back to us, so this is amazing," Mandy goes on. "We saw your piece The Little Boy in the LA museum a month ago. We ended up chatting with the museum manager and she told us about you."

   "Oh, wow. Yeah, Lisa is great. I really appreciate that you like the piece. Thanks."

   "Holden, we didn't just like it. We... connected to it. Something about the way that you interpret your story into your art, it's amazing. And your techniques... what art school did you go to?" Josie asks, and I swallow hard.

   I didn't go to art school. I took some extra art classes in high school. I took some classes at a community college the summer after I graduated, and enjoyed it. I learned a lot. But I mostly taught myself how to paint. I paint from my heart, really.

   "I actually just took some classes here in Boothbay after high school. I didn't go to an art school," I tell them, because I might as well be honest.

   Silence. Neither of these women have anything to say to that. Shit.

   "Wow. Sorry, I'm honestly just surprised," one of them finally says, and the other agrees  quickly.

   "We opened our gallery three years ago. We are artists and we have friends that studied art at NYU and Pratt University and we've put together a few shows, as well as we are open to the public for viewing and purchasing," Josie explains.

   "That sounds awesome," I say, my heart beating fast.

   "We have an exhibit beginning this month and it will run for six weeks. So that means we are open to start your exhibit around the 1st of June," Mandy tells me, like this is no big deal.

   "Okay," I agree, because what else can I say?

    "There's some paperwork, contracts, etc that we will email over. The total number of pieces we recommend as well as the price points, and how the actual exhibits run... that will all be in there. If you have any questions at any time, feel free to call either of us," Josie goes on. They've done this before but they don't know that I'm new to all of this.

   "Yeah, um, I have questions. I mean, I guess I just don't know how this all works. In L.A. I was just under contract with the museum for twelve months, I got a salary and I submitted my works whenever. I got a portion of each one that sold, and... yeah. It was different," I explain.

   "Of course, yes. So, we will pay to have you in a hotel for the first two weeks of the exhibit, so you're close by. We will have you in the gallery a few days each week so the people can talk to you, ask about the pieces, etc. But because it's an exhibit we will need them all done before hand. We usually recommend twelve to fifteen, for the six week time frame. That can be negotiated as well," Mandy explains.

   "Right. Okay, that answers a few of my questions. Other than that, I was just wondering about the content itself? These days I'm mostly painting commissioned pieces, so it's whatever the client wants done."

   "Do you paint for you?" Josie asks without hesitating.

   I think about the two paintings I did of Maya.

   "Yeah, I do."

   "Good. Those are what we want. Whatever you bring, I'm sure we will love. You can send some photos before hand if you'd like and we can approve them," Mandy goes on.

   "Okay. Yeah. Great." I'm literally shaking. Is this really happening?

   "Awesome, I'll send over all the contracts and details today. And we will check in over the next few weeks to see how they are coming along. We pay for the hotel as I said, and then we do the same for purchases pieces. A portion for us, the rest for you."

   "Thank you," I say, because that's all I can manage.

   "We are really excited about this, Holden," Mandy finishes.

   "I am, too."

   I'm too antsy to paint for the rest of that day. Honey and I go down to the harbour. I drop in with some groceries for Mom and Eddie, and hang out with him while Mom's at work. I tell him about my conversation and he's both amazed and surprised by it all.

   When I get home, I go into the studio again. I'm looking at these painting I've done over the last two months. A large piece that is just an elephant's head. The jungle scene, which is almost done. This piece I started for the lady who called last week. Two more leaning on the shelf. Sometimes it surprises me that I created these pieces. And of course the two of Maya, in my living room. I decide right then that they will go to the exhibit. The painting Mandy and Josie loved in L.A. was called The Little Boy. It was a memory, of Landon, about six, his little feet in the sand by our house. He's squatting and digging. The water is clear. I kept that piece for a year before I posted it online and it was one that the museum in L.A. wanted. So it lives there, still, to be seen by thousands of people every day.

   Then it hits me. I want to create portraits for the exhibit. I'll include some of my animal painting as well, and some of the wild, colorful floral pieces. But I want a set of portraits, too. I want to paint my mom, and Eddie, and maybe I'll ask Nella if I can paint Willow. I love portraits and how paint makes them feel. Real, but not. So different from a photograph.

   I think I have a plan, which is the first step. My blood is rushing through my body as I make a quick note about my plan, and then I assess what I need to buy. My stack of canvases is getting low. I will wait to see what sizes and price point they need to be before I go get more, but that's on the top of my list. I will need a few paint pallets. And new brushes, again. I have two lists made when I go back out to the kitchen to eat something. My stomach is in knots, both from hunger and anxiousness, but I manage some toast and another coffee.

   An email comes in, from Mandy. It's a three page contract that I read carefully. It looks good. It's just what they said, and more. The second attachment is the recommendations for the pieces. Twelve to fifteen, which is a lot. Each one should be twenty-four by thirty-six inches, and bigger. Each piece should sell between $300 and $1200, depending on a few things.

   Holy shit. I have to get to work.

   I can't sit around for the rest of the day, knowing that I have so much to do, so I grab my list from the studio and call Honey. We go out the door again, even though it's early evening and the stores won't be open much longer. I need to get out and feel like I am getting started on this. Tomorrow I will get to work, painting the first true exhibit piece.