“I’m so nervous, and it’s still three days away.” I held out a hand for Anna, and we both watched my fingers quiver. The selection committee at Jerry’s college asked to interview me over video chat. I had little experience with interviews, and I was nervous.

“It’s just an interview,” said Anna. “You will be brilliant. I don’t want you to leave, but I know this must be exciting. I know how excited you were to spend time with Sophie. You need to make a whole lot of money; so that you can buy me an airplane ticket to America.”

Anna earned a comfortable salary teaching, but she never traveled beyond the European continent. She grew up in a very modest household, and her parents taught her to be frugal. I suggested that she come with me sometime to visit Sophie, but I hadn’t yet succeeded in convincing her to buy the plane ticket.

I said, “You’re more confident about how I’ll do than I am. I wish you could answer their questions for me. I’m an artist. I don’t talk for a living. I might do better if I could draw pictures for them.”

Anna answered, “If you’re going to teach, you will have to talk. Remember when you explained to me how to do basic editing of my photographs on the computer? You are outstanding. You have inborn teaching talents. I could follow everything. You broke it down into the simplest parts, and I was doing my own work in no time.”

“But that was one on one. Standing in front of a classroom must be different.”

I was getting agitated and nervous just talking about what was coming up. Anna could see it, and she said, “Let’s order another beer. It’ll relax you. When you talk in the interview, be as simple and direct as you are when you’re talking to me.”

It was my first job interview in years. Since we were on opposite sides of the ocean, I thought I was likely to answer questions on the phone. I was wrong, and I suddenly had to worry about not only the sound of my voice but also how I looked. I tended to wave my hands when I started explaining things. I knew that I needed to try and keep that in check. I asked, “Where do you think I should do the interview? Where should I be when I talk to them?”

Anna flagged down a server and ordered our beers. She said, “I think you should do it in your studio. It’s beautiful. They might ask about where you work, and you can explain. You can even show them around.”

I nodded and said, “That’s a good idea.”

“Do you have paintings that you can set up on easels or hang on the walls?”

I said, “I’ve sold most of them or given them away.”

She sighed. “They would add so much.”

I thought of the folios of sketches. I said, “I do have sketches that I’ve used for paintings. I have many from the past and a few that I’ve not yet turned into paintings.”

“Oh, those sound excellent,” said Sophie. “If you want help, I can come with you to the studio and set it all up before they call you. It might help to have a second pair of eyes.”

* * *

Anna was helpful. She kept my spirits up when I worried about peeling paint on a windowsill and a worn spot in the flooring. She said, “It’s an art studio, Lucas. It’s not your living room.”

I tried to manage a smile in response. I said, “I don’t want to be such a perfectionist, but I can’t help it. I don’t want them to think poorly of me because something looks shabby in the room.”

Anna shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know how you can believe that anything here looks shabby. I would live here. It’s a beautiful space. Where are the sketches you talked about?”

I carried three oversized leather folios to a large table in the center of the room. The first one contained sketches of family and friends that preceded painted portraits. It was fun for me to look back through them and see my progression over time.

The first several sketches were formal and static. The last few in chronological time were much more active. I sketched my subjects engaging in activities from talking on the phone to cooking a meal.

Anna said, “These are fantastic. I especially love the action ones.”

The most recent of the folios held my hockey sketches and my work on a portrait of James. I had the sketch that I created before we broke off contact and I thought of it as, “Happy James.” I did one more sketch of him after he disappeared from my life, and I called it, “Determined James.” I sketched him skating on speed skates instead of playing hockey. His jaw was set, and he was intent on winning a race.

Anna gasped audibly. “These are gorgeous. They are the best that you have.” She held up the speed skating image of James and asked, “Who is this, Lucas? It’s not you, is it?”

I understood how she got confused. A hood and goggles obscured most of his facial features. The sketch was monochrome and didn’t include color in the eyes. I said, “No, it’s not me. This is James.”

“I thought you said he played hockey.”

I said, “He does, so this is an imaginary portrait. The last of the hockey images is James, too. You can see more of his face.”

Anna looked at me and said, “You’ve put him in your…” Her voice trailed off. The last time she tried to talk about racing on skates, I insisted that I didn’t want to talk about it. I was pleased that Anna respected my wishes and held her tongue. She said, “I’ll help you arrange these before your interview. You need fresh flowers, too. Spread them around the studio. They will brighten everything up.”

* * *

When the interview began, my confidence was high. I loved how inviting my studio appeared. I was not only prepared to be asked questions. I knew that I would also be happy to welcome all the interviewers into my space if they decided to hop on airplanes and fly across the Atlantic Ocean.

Anna brainstormed questions that she thought might be asked, and they were not nearly as tricky as I feared. She was familiar with educators and what they might want to know. I found it easy to talk about my goals and desires in the art field.

Anna asked, “Is that what you really want, or are you painting us a pretty picture?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean moving to America and teaching painting. It’s a huge step if it’s not something that you want. Think about that before the interview. Make sure you want it, and you’ll do fine.”

As the interview unfolded, I knew that I wanted the position. The panel of four people asking me questions were all individuals that I wanted to meet in person. They were both intelligent about art and encouraging about my career. They shared multiple compliments about my studio and Amsterdam. Two of them visited my city in the past.

I ended the interview confident that they wanted me for the position, but I still had a long week to wait before hearing their decision. Anna told me that I was going to wear a hole in the floor of my studio with my pacing back and forth.

She was at my side in the studio when I received the call. She clenched my hand tight while I spoke to the provost of the college. Everything in the conversation was positive from the beginning. I whispered, “They were impressed that I had experience in juried shows.”

Anna gripped my hand tighter with both of hers. She was petite, and her hands were small, but she could still grasp fiercely. I held my hand over the phone and said, “And they were impressed by my university records.”

She whispered, “Oh, you have it, you have it, Lucas! This is so exciting!”

I said, “Yes,” softly just before the end of the conversation, and then I tried to pull a joke on Anna with a dejected look on my face.

She said, “You’re not fooling me, Lucas Bakker. I know what happened!”

I couldn’t contain myself any longer, and I shoved a fist upward into the air. “I got it! I’m going to Chicago for a year! They said the contract can be renewed for a second year if all goes well.”

Anna beamed from ear to ear. She said, “That’s so exciting. I’m happy for you. I’ll have to plan a trip to America.”

I caught my breath, and I said, “The downside of all of it. I’ll have to tell my parents and say goodbye to everyone here.

Anna shook her head. “We all know how exciting this is for you. We’ll miss you, but if anyone thought this day wouldn’t come, they didn’t know you very well. It makes perfect sense for you. Also, you get to spend more time with Sophie. I know how close you are to your sister.”

I reached out for Anna’s hands and said, “You do need to come and visit. Sophie asks about you. She would love taking you on a girls’ day trip all over the city.”

It didn’t take long for the image of James to appear in my head amid the celebration. It was likely that our relationship was over, but he clung to the back of my mind. I knew that part of me hoped for a reunion, and I thought it was possible if we were on the same side of the ocean.

“When do you leave?” asked Anna.

“Not until late summer. So I have plenty of time to decide what to bring and what to leave behind. I hope that Sophie and Jerry can help me find an apartment.”

“The next few months will be so exciting,” said Anna. “Please keep me informed about everything.”

I grinned. “You’ll be right in the middle of it all while I’m still here in Amsterdam.”