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Chapter 17
Rory pulls the wheelchair from the trunk and places it outside my door.
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” Rory asks.
I chuckle. “Yes. When you picked me up, remember?”
“Yeah. Right.”
He is lying through his teeth, but I know he’s just trying to make me feel good.
I dodged him after his parents went back to Minnesota, but we both committed to going on a date to Mandy’s art show. I figure I can break it off with him after one last date.
If I’m honest, I want to see him one last time. One last time when we are both happy.
I feel okay today and insisted I wouldn’t need the wheelchair, but Rory didn’t want to push my luck with my energy levels. At the tail end of treatment, I only have one week to go, and then all that’s left is to wait and see if it comes back. Finally leaving chemo and radiation behind me will be one of the best days of my life. I just hope I’m putting treatment behind me for the last time. I’m not sure I can put myself through this again.
I’m swimming in my wrap dress. I tied it as tightly as I could to make it seem more my size, though it’s not fooling anyone. Rory looks dashing in dark slacks and a maroon button-up shirt that makes his beautiful green eyes pop. I’m going to miss him, but I try to focus on one last night together, enjoying his company for now.
Rory pushes my wheelchair into the nearly-empty gallery. The space has a modern vibe, and every wall is filled with colorful oversized landscapes and much smaller portraits.
Tlali and Izel huddle around Mandy, talking to a tall woman whom she introduces as the gallery manager and her art dealer, Debra.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I say.
“You too, enjoy the show. I have to check on a few things,” Debra says and gets to work.
I turn to look at Mandy. “Are you nervous?” I ask.
Mandy nods. “A little. I’ve been working on this for so long. It’s always a little nerve-racking putting work out there, hoping no one will trash something you’ve poured your heart into.”
“It’ll be great; you’ll see.” Tlali half-hugs Mandy and rubs her shoulder. “The paintings are great. You’ll get rave reviews. I just know it.”
“Thanks. I hope you’re right,” Mandy says, and nervous isn’t a look that suits her.
Izel walks over to the hors d’oeuvre table and plops a tiny tart in her mouth, then grabs a glass of white wine. “You look good, Valentina,” she says. “I’m glad you felt up to it.”
“Me too. Thanks.”
A few more people trickle in, and Mandy leaves us so she can greet them. Izel and Tlali both make their way to various paintings to admire, and I ask Rory to push me around so I can see them all.
One half of the room is hung only with portraits. I recognize depictions of Tlali, Izel, and Mandy’s mom. The rest of the portraits are all women, though I don’t recognize any more of them. Mandy’s style is a bit abstract up close, but the further you step back, it’s almost photorealistic. I’m no art expert, but despite my untrained eye, I can tell these are good.
I’ve seen modern art before. I don’t understand most of it. A lot of it seems like things children would do, but somehow, Mandy has managed to merge classical-style painting with a modern twist. It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.
“She’s really talented, isn’t she?” I say to Rory.
“She sure is,” he agrees. “One day, when I’m making a good salary, I’ll commission a portrait of you from her.”
Who knew that little package of loud would be this good an artist? I’ve always pictured artists as tortured souls suffering for their art. In my head, it was the Hollywood depiction of alcoholics and drug addicts starving for their art, only gaining recognition long after their death.
Mandy couldn’t be further from what I envisioned an artist to be. Her life is chaotic, but she is fulfilled. She holds a regular job to support herself and has friends who support her.
“Take me over to the landscapes?”
Rory obliges, and we get in line behind a few people to start the procession in front of the significantly larger landscape paintings. The gallery is nearly full now, and I’m relieved for Mandy.
Her landscapes are crafted in a similar style to the portraits but on a grander scale. I can tell this is the playground where she experiments with light. The landscapes exude a feeling the portraits lack, and I know, just know, this is where her true talent lies.
