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I don’t sell any photography, actually, but I’m not about to tell them that.
“You should,” the second woman urges. “People will always pay for good art.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Um, do you want to order some food, too?”
They both laugh, then, and order two egg sandwich specials, so I take that back to the kitchen. Then I duck into the walk-in pantry, pulling my phone out of my apron to text Laura.
There’s a new email alert from my McKee account. I shoot off a text to Laura about the women, then open the app.
It’s from the visual arts department.
I hover over the email, not wanting to click down. I’m riding a high; the thought of smashing that to pieces with the contest rejection already hurts. But I’m not the kind of person who can put something off, good or bad, so I do click it, skimming for the telltale “we regret to inform you,” or however they chose to phrase it.
I have to read it three times before it actually sinks in.
Dear Ms. Wood,
Thank you for submitting your work to the Doris McKinney Visual Arts Contest. We are pleased to inform you that your photography series, “Beyond the Play,” has been chosen as the finalist in the Photography category and will be displayed at the Close Gallery in New York City this February 10th-13th. In addition, you have been awarded the $1,000 category prize, and your work will be considered for the$5,000 grand prize. The judges were impressed by the level of range and skills you brought to such a unique subject. We look forward to seeing you and your invited guests at the prize ceremony on February 10th. Further details can be found below.
Congratulations on this achievement!
Best,
Professor Donald Marks
Visual Arts Department Chair
McKee University
I stare down at my phone, re-reading the email half a dozen more times. I submitted a series of photographs of James for the contest—some of him at work on the football field, and others of him off the field, including one of the photographs I took of him that morning in Pennsylvania. I hadn’t expected anything to come of it, not when there are plenty of actual visual arts majors at McKee.
But they liked my work. No—they loved it. They loved my range and my skillset.
Holy fuck.
I clasp my hand over my mouth as I scream, doing a little happy dance. I know they probably intend the prize money to be used for tuition, but screw that, I’m using it to buy myself new furniture.
I want nothing more in the world than to call James. He’d be so excited. If we were on good terms, he’d insist on going out to celebrate, probably at the arcade or to get milkshakes or something equally sweet. I almost do call him; I bring up his contact and everything. He’s the one who bought me the new camera,after all, and without it, I wouldn’t have been able to get those photographs in the first place.
Before I can decide, someone knocks on the door to the pantry. “Bex, honey?”
I open the door. Mom raises an eyebrow at me. “Why are you hiding in here?”
“I won a contest.”
“What contest?”
“I entered a photography contest, and I won.” My voice wobbles; I’m on the verge of tears, but at least they’re happy ones. “They said they loved my range and skillset.”
Mom pulls me into a hug. “Oh, sweetie. That’s wonderful.”
“I won a prize, and I might win a bigger one.” I pull back, adjusting my apron. “I was thinking we can use it to buy more furniture for the apartment.”
Mom shakes her head. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. Nicole and Brian are going to help us. They have some stuff they wanted to get rid of anyway, and Nicole knows someone who refurbishes furniture who would be willing to give us a few pieces at a discount. Keep the money and use it for tuition.”
“You’re sure?”
She cups my cheek, rubbing her thumb over my skin. “It’s the least I can do. I know it’s not much, to make up for what happened, but...”
