For a second, I think I see something behind my best friend’s eyes—like he’s going to say something to me. But then in a blink of an eye, it’s gone, and he’s turning his back on me.
I want to go after him and force him to talk to me. But I know from being friends with him long enough that this isn’t the right time. Not now.
Dougie won’t be ready to talk to me again for a while, if ever. For now, all I can do is wait. And that’s going to be a hard thing to do, knowing that the reason he’s feeling all this pain and anger right now is me.
11
Lucy
Never in mylife have I sat through a more awkward dinner with my father.
We prepared the meal as we always do, but normally we speak about our day or talk about shows and make random chit-chat. Today we were both silent. I cut the veggies while Dad boiled the water, measured out the pasta, and made the meatballs.
I knew I was going to have to tell him my and Titus’s story one day, I just guess I neverreallybelieved it.
I just kept thinking in my mind, “It will be tomorrow. It will be tomorrow.”
And then tomorrow finally came. Dad saw my little baby bump, and my whole world turned upside down.
“Lucy,” I remember him saying, his eyes on my tummy. “What in the world is that?”
My whole body goes tense just thinking about it. My heart begins to race all over again.
When I look across the table at my father, I feel so conflicted. On one hand, I feel terrible for having lied to him for this long—for having hidden something I could have easily told him.
But on the other hand, I know that had I told him from the beginning that I was in love with Titus, he would have immediately said no. He hasn’t been open to the idea of me pursuing my art, why would he be open to the idea of me and Titus being together?
Hiding our relationship was a necessity. This was the only way for us to ever give our love the space it needed to blossom.
I try to take another bite of my pasta, but I’m just not hungry. My stomach feels like it’s full of lead bricks. I look up at my dad. “May I be excused?”
He looks up from his plate but doesn’t look at me. Normally, he would most likely make me finish my meal before letting me go upstairs, but tonight, he’s quick to respond.
“You may.”
I stand up and take my plate to the kitchen and clear it before I practically sprint up the stairs to my bedroom and close the door behind me.
Immediately, I have my brush in my hand and I’m back at work on my latest painting, a wide canvas of Titus’s arm and his scar, something I not only hope he’ll be honored by, but that I can also potentially sell and use to raise money for a local veterans foundation.
I’ve never actually sold any of my work before, so it’s a lofty goal, but I think it’s an honorable one as well, so I’m hoping it works out.
After about fifteen or twenty minutes, my phone vibrates with an e-mail alert. I’m in such a mood after the “dinner” with my dad that I almost don’t check it, but I do. And thank God that I do, because it’s from Riverbank Gallery letting me know that I’ve been accepted to their show in October.
“Another one?” I whisper, almost unable to believe it as my eyes scan the text of the e-mail. Happiness floods my heart and pours through my veins. I’m absolutely thrilled. But then I read the next paragraph.
Not only have you been accepted to be part of the show, but we would also be honored if you would be our featured artist.
My heart nearly stops.
What would this mean? This would mean your art would be featured more prominently at the front of the gallery where everyone who enters would be sure to see it, as well as placed higher on all our marketing products including social media, e-mails, and brochures.
“Oh...my…” I can’t even finish the sentence.
If this is something you would be interested in, Ms. Anderson, please let us know by responding to this e-mail.
There’s more below that I should probably read, but I can’t. Not right now. Right now I’m on my feet and racing back downstairs screaming, “Dad! Dad, look at this!”
Dad is sitting on the couch watching something on TV when I burst into the room like a Chihuahua on crack. “Dad, look! I got accepted into a show at Riverbank Gallery and they wantmeto be their featured artist!Me!”