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“To paint? I’m itching to paint that sunset.” She looks at it longingly and I know exactly what she means. I’m taking every mental picture I can to recreate how absolutely ethereal she looks right now.
“Of course. In fact,” I say, looking around conspiratorially even though I know there won’t be anyone around to catch us. The security guard either hasn’t noticed that I’ve been coming up here for over a year, or he doesn’t care. I’m leaning towards the latter. “Come check this out.”
Just for another excuse to touch her, I grab her hand again and pull her over to a utility closet. There’s no lock on it, but no one ever comes up here besides me. Inside there is an easel and a messy set of painting supplies, canvases, sketch pads, pencils, and a folding chair.
“You have a whole setup out here!” Beth exclaims. I love the way she runs her fingers over the supplies, almost as if she’s introducing herself. “May I?” she asks, gesturing to the canvases that are leaning against the wall.
I nod before I remember some of my sketches, pulling the book out casually to distract her from looking through it. Leaning against the doorframe, I flip to a clear page and grab a charcoal pencil, sketching mindlessly as she looks through the canvases and we chat.
“I like to come up here and unwind. Even with the city spread out around me, it’s so quiet and peaceful,” I tell her.
“I have a place like that, too,” she says, smiling. But then her smile drops. “Well, I did.” She shrugs and tries to move on, but I don’t want her to feel like she has to pretend she isn’t upset and just brush over it.
“The gallery?” I ask softly. Cal told me about spending time with her in the gallery after everyone was gone, that she’d stay long after and just enjoy the quiet and the art. I hate that she’s going to lose that.
“Yeah,” she says sadly. “It sucks, but maybe it’s a good thing. I’ve been sort of treading water for a long time now, you know, staying afloat but not really making progress towards things I want to accomplish. I think meeting Cal has made me want to push myself harder to really do something with my life.”
I nod, because he has that effect on people. “And what is it that you want to do?”
“I’m really not even very sure,” she laughs. “All I’ve ever wanted is to be an artist, and don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love your classes, but I can’t be just a student forever.”
“I’d never want to encourage you to stop taking my classes, purely out of the selfish desire to continue to spend time with you and see your art develop, but you’re easily the most talented person I’ve ever met, Beth. Youarean artist. I think if you put yourself out there, you’d be incredibly successful.”
“I don’t think I’d want to stop taking your classes and soaking up everything I can from you. They’ve been the most fulfilling part of my life for… Oh god, way too long. Cherith is right. You might have reason to worry about me stalking you.” She laughs awkwardly. “But in all seriousness, I do want to put myself out there. I don’t think I could sell my art or do exhibitions, but maybe teach?”
“You coming for my job, Beth?” I laugh. “Honestly, you’d probably be way better at it. You’re certainly nicer.” I have a reputation for having exceptionally high standards.
“I actually think I’d really like to teach kids. And...”
Her voice trails off, and she crinkles up her nose in the most adorable way.
“Okay. Don’t think less of me,” she says, biting her lip self-consciously. “But have you ever been to asip and paint?”
“No. What’s that?”
“It’s just a fun place where people go to take a painting class while they drink wine. Like a date night place.”
“That would explain why I haven’t heard of it,” I joke. “I’m not sure how long it’s been since I went on a date.”
“I find that surprising.”
“Because I’m so charming and outgoing?”
Beth laughs. “I just mean that you’re so… You know.” She gestures at me vaguely and then rolls her eyes upwards, like she can’t believe she’s having this conversation.
I hope I know what she’s saying, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself, so I play dumb, chuckling at her adorable awkwardness. “No, I don’t know. You’ll have to enlighten me.”
She clears her throat and changes the subject instead. “Anyway, I think it would be fun to teach those kinds of classes. Low pressure, just painting for the joy of it.” She looks back up at me. “I’m sure it seems dumb to a serious artist like you,” she says, shrugging.
“Not at all. It actually sounds like a lot of fun. I’d like to go.”
“Well, the nearest place is almost an hour away. Somehow, our little city hasn’t caught on to the trend yet.”
“Seems like a good chance to jump on a business opportunity,” I point out.
“Maybe,” she replies quietly.
I look out into the distance and consider an idea that I’ve beengoing back and forth on for months now. There’s a space open, just a couple blocks away from here, that has huge south-facing arch windows, a small park across the street, and a large loft upstairs. The inside is nothing fancy, mostly exposed brick and the floor looks to be polished concrete, but it caught my attention when I was out for a long walk one day. It had previously been some kind of hipster clothing store, but they either moved or went out of business and the space has been open ever since. I did a walk through with a realtor already, and I have a very clear vision of what I could do with the space, but I just haven’t been able to take the leap.
