Chapter 9

MacKenzie

Every time I think of being with Michael like that, I get a little breathless. I tell myself I’m just having nerves about starting my new job, but Margaret is hardly imposing enough to generate this set of jitters. I know it’s the memory of his hands, his lips, and his masterful strokes that have my heart beating so hard. I wish I could tell Abby about it, but she’s not getting any action of her own, so it seems sort of cruel. I make a mental note to see if I can find someone with whom she might hook up. I know she won’t have the confidence to put herself out there on her own. I’ll have to walk her through it.

I’m pulling up to the gallery, and I’m ten minutes early. I knew where I was going but wanted to make sure the traffic was cooperative. The odd, eclectic building is the perfect wrapping for the art inside. I’m anxious to get acquainted.

A car is pulling into the parking lot, and it takes one of the back spots. I guess that’s where employees are supposed to park, so I put my car back in gear and pull in next to her.

“Good morning!” Margaret says in a cheery voice. “I see you’re early.”

I give her a little wave and pull out my clutch and laptop bag. I’m not really sure if I’ll need the computer, but it’s with me, just in case. “I like to get acclimated to the surroundings, so I always give myself some extra time,” I tell her as we head to the back door.

“I’ll get you your own key later today. Let me put my things down, and then I’ll show you your workspace. It’s not much, really. We’d rather use what little space we have for display.

I’m trying to hide my disappointment when she shows me to the tiny cubby that will serve as my workspace. I think my high school gym locker was bigger. I think she senses my thoughts because she remarks, “I know it’s small, but you only need to keep your purse and lunch here, and of course, a coat or whatever. You can use the extra table in my office to work on your laptop if you like.”

“Thanks. This is fine, and I will appreciate working closely with you. I’ll get to see more of what you do.”

“We’ll spend the morning touring the exhibits, and I’ll go into some history behind each one and a little about the artist. Some pieces will be popular due to their scarcity while others will be the favorites of certain collectors. Our customers can tend to be a little eccentric, but don’t let them intimidate you. They’re all wonderful people, but you know the creative types—a little independent. We try at least once a month to feature a particular artist with his or her own show. It gives them a chance to meet their fans and build their following. Good business all the way around.”

“I’d like to learn as much as I can about each of the pieces. I’m sure I’ll eventually learn each one’s unique style; sort of like the composers I’ve studied.”

“You know, ordinarily, MacKenzie, we would have passed on your resume because you don’t have a specific art background. But our thinking was that not only will you be a lovely hostess and, therefore, a good fundraiser, but we hoped on our exhibition evenings that you would play the piano; maybe some pieces that reflect the spirit of the artist being exhibited?”

“I’d love to do that! Be sure and let me know in advance so I can prepare.”

I am ecstatic to be in a creative atmosphere again. This is the one thing I miss since college—the opportunity to interact with people who understand and value the arts.

***

I’m amazed to see the time; this day is passing too quickly. I’m so relieved that I’m going to fit in well here, and it gives me the creative outlet that makes my heart sing. I can’t wait to tell my parents about it, so I decide to stop by their house on the way back to my own.

Mom is sitting on the Chanel replica sofa working on her cross stitch, and Dad is reading the Wall Street Journal. I know that I could come into this room at this time of the day on any given day in the year and find them locked in this tableau. Mom looks up and smiles at me. “Hello, honey. We didn’t know you were stopping by. I’m sure I can get Olga to make you something.”

“No, thanks, Mom. I’ve got a crockpot going at home.”

Dad peers over his paper at me. “When did you become Suzy Homemaker?”

“Stop it, Dad. I know how to cook … well, sort of. I’ve watched Mom all these years,” I add as a hats-off remark to her.

“Uh, huh,” he comments and goes back to his reading.

I sit down in a side chair and wait for someone to remember that it’s the first day of my new job. Eventually, the quiet in the room is more than I can stand. “I started my job today,” I burst out finally.

“That’s nice, dear. Did you have a good time?” Mom is trying to be interested but isn’t very good at faking it.

Dad isn’t going to even give it a shot. He looks up once more in Mom’s direction. “Elizabeth, did you mention to Mac about that nice young man we met at the club?”

Mom frowns, trying to remember. I’m feeling exasperated. Why aren’t they interested in how my day went? I went to college for this, after all. I actually earned money today. Why aren’t they asking if I like the job or if I got fired or whatever?

“Oh, that’s right, Mac. Your father and I met a very handsome, very eligible young gentleman at the country club. I know it hasn’t been very long, but I think you might like him. What do you say? Why don’t we have your dad set up a little dinner for the four of us or at least a round of golf?”

“Don’t either of you care?”

They look up at me, puzzled.

I try again. “Never mind. I thought you might be proud of me, after all, I’m a working girl now.”

Dad speaks up. “With any luck, honey, it won’t last too long. I think it’s important that you have an outlet for your time, but I think you’ll get much farther ahead if you forget about that Antonio business and start dating again. Don’t you?”

My mouth drops open, and I can only stare. They think of me as a commodity, a baby machine, and their legacy. They could care less if I clean toilets or perform on stage as long as I marry the right man. “Actually, Dad, I happen to like this job. I mean, this is something I’m doing on my very own. You’ve got your business and Mom, you’ve got your social activities. Don’t you think it’s about time that I have something?”

Mom isn’t even breaking stride with her stitching. “Yes, dear, that’s very nice.”

I’m amazed at the insensitivity. “I can’t believe you two. Here I thought you would be excited for me, and all you can do is talk about this man or that man or how I should make a good marriage. I’m done with that. Antonio was part of your set, and look how he turned out. No, I’m done with that. I don’t want anyone who has a bigger bank account that he has a heart.”

“Mac! Watch how you’re speaking to us. You know we were heartbroken for you over that wedding affair. But that doesn’t mean you have to give up on everyone. You just happened to get a bad egg.”

“Well, that’s one more egg than I need in my life. You two enjoy yourselves, I’m leaving.”

I pick up my bag and stalk out of the house, and as I’m getting into my car, I’m telling myself that I’ll only come back for Thanksgiving and Christmas. It’s about time I start my own life in my own house. I pick up a deli meal on my way home.

The house seems cavernous without all the furniture that still has yet to come. As I eat, I’m mapping out the rooms, deciding which colors to paint the walls or whether I should paper them. I feel a little depressed over the lack of attention from my parents. I guess that’s who they’ve become, and I just have to accept it. Unless someone has money or connections, they just aren’t interested. How did they get that way? Have they always been like that? There’s more to life than money, although I have to admit, I’d like a little more of it at the moment. I know I’m coming into my trust fund before too long, and everything will be fine then. In the meantime, I’m going to let myself worry about money for a little bit. I think it will be a healthy thing.

I’m feeling frustrated, so I grab my keys and my bag and head out for Abby’s apartment. I tap once on the door and go in. That’s how we always do it.

Abby is working at her computer, hunched over with her hair pinned on top of her head in some crazy configuration. Poor Abby. I don’t think she has a clue. She is wearing a T-shirt with a cartoon logo on it. It certainly isn’t haute couture, and the worst part is, I don’t think she cares.

She looks up as I toss my purse on the table next to her. “Jesus, you scared me. I didn’t even hear you come in.”

“Sorry about that. I knocked before I came in, but I guess you’re wrapped up in your work?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a new theory I’m working on. I’m dedicating quite a bit of time to it. It’s pretty intense if I say so myself.”

“Abby, for gosh sakes, don’t you want to get out once in a while?”

She peers at me with a question in her eyes. “What for?”

“To meet people, of course. You can’t just spend your entire life hunched over a computer. There’s so much more out there.”

“Yeah, I know, but it doesn’t interest me.” She goes back to her work, and I make myself a cup of tea and sit down across the table from her.

“I know you don’t like to talk about this stuff, but darn it, Abby, I’m your best friend, and if I can’t tell you, who can?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you’re not a big dater, but that’s only because you haven’t met the right guy. You have so much to offer.”

“Yeah, right.” She gives me a disgusted look and turns back to her computer.

“You do. Okay, so maybe you don’t look like a Barbie doll, but you have a beautiful mind and a generous heart, and you are exceptionally loyal. There are a lot of girls at the beauty shop who can’t hold a candle to you when it comes to that.”

“I thank you for the compliments, but those are qualities that are a little tough for guys to see. Anyway, I think I tend to intimidate them.”

“Intimidate them? Well, I suppose I can see your point. You’re twice as smart as most of them, and you have no bullshit in your soul. I don’t know, maybe I’m getting to be more like you.”

“What do you mean? You’re gorgeous, rich, talented, and your parents know everyone who is worth knowing. You couldn’t be further away from me if you tried.”

“Oh, don’t be so sure. I just stopped by their house to tell them about my first day on the job, and all they could do was chatter about some guy at the country club they want me to meet. He’ll be just like all the others, just like Antonio.”

“At least you had Antonio,” Abby spoke up.

I stare at her. “That was kind of cruel, you know?”

“Sorry, but for someone who has as much going for them as you do, you really don’t have a right to bitch about anything.”

I roll my eyes and take one last sip of the tea. “I guess I’m going home now. I came to pour out my soul, but you look sort of busy. I’ll see you later.” I leave, and I’ll bet she didn’t even notice.