Paige
I continued to search the street for something familiar, maybe something I could remember from my childhood. I didn’t want to call Gran for directions. She and my mom didn’t even know I had left. I looked across the street and struck gold. There on the corner was a small gallery, maybe what I had been looking for the whole time. It was like fate. I’d always been lucky, weird things had happened to me my entire life and yet I’d always come out on top. Some people would say I had a guardian angel, but I just thought good things come to those who wait.
Time to take a step in the right direction, I thought. I crossed the cobblestone street and entered a small gallery with a modern silver door, pausing just for a moment to look to at the paintings in the window. There was a fabulous self-portrait with a picture of the artist sitting next to it. She was a stunning blonde and it said her name was Joy. Just Joy, very Madonna style. I liked it.
A tiny silver bell chimed on the door as I opened it. I attempted to shut it quietly behind me as I saw the artist describing her work near the back of the gallery. My heels clicked on the hardwood floor, but no one seemed to notice my presence as they were so involved in her storytelling. She described the landscape, it was abstract and I could only make out a few trees. Not really my type of art, I could tell she was inspired by Georgia O’Keeffe. I, unfortunately, wasn’t really inspired by anyone. It was always things that I saw that I painted. Nothing came directly out of my head. They were all real world objects, or people. People I loved, people like Nick. I sighed, pushing his beautiful blue eyes from my thoughts. I needed to focus right now. I crept quietly towards the crowd listening to Joy reminisce. She was describing a creek in the picture. I could tell the strong blue squares were supposed to represent the moving water.
“We were sitting on the edge of this creek,” she said, “and there was this little turtle on the log. I thought about how he had a story that deserved to be told. The smallest black circle in the middle of the blue rectangles represents the turtle. This painting is for him and all the other small creatures that no one thinks about.” Whoa, this girl was one of those hippie artists. They look at the small things in life and see the biggest pictures. I was impressed with her dedication to her craft. By looking closer at the image I could tell she had some real natural talent. I had taken enough classes to know what could be taught and what couldn’t. “Lines could be taught,” my professors would say, “but the passion must come from you.”
People clapped as Joy smiled and nodded at them. “Thank you, thank you,” she said, looking tranquil and beautiful, as she met with a few of her admirers. Shaking their hands and making connections, she looked very professional and I realized she really knew what she was doing. I noticed a few of her admirers making their way to the counter, obviously to buy her work. Either she had a really good group here, or she was a really good salesperson, but either way, Joy wasn’t going home empty-handed today. I approached her with my hand outstretched, wondering if a little of her good fortune would rub off on me.
“That was an excellent story,” I said. “It’s always interesting to me to hear other artists’ points of view.”
“Ahh, you’re an artist?” She smiled widely as she shook my hand. It wasn’t a fake smile like “oh, this is my competition” it was more of a “hey, maybe we can be friends” look.
“Yeah I paint a little, nothing spectacular. I went to school for it, but then…,” I stopped myself. I still wasn’t quite sure how to explain to people that my boyfriend disappeared and I kind of lost myself.
“But then you’re an artist,” she continued. “And as artists we do whatever our hearts desire. Did you finish your schooling?” She sounded generally interested. I wasn’t used to this. In New York everyone was an artist or musician. So no one really cared about what you did or who you wanted to become, even if they asked. But Joy really seemed to wonder, maybe I would be the focus for her next piece.
“I’m still working on it. Life sort of got in the way. I haven’t done much in a while and I’m certainly not on display in any galleries.” I looked at my shoes. Acknowledging my own defeat was hard to do, even though I knew it was true.
“Why don’t you show your stuff here?” She asked it like it was the simplest thing in the world. That anyone could just throw themselves into a gallery.
“Well I was kind of thinking about it. Do you know who the owner is?” I was hoping it wasn’t some old hippie who wouldn’t get my modern take on realism.
“Well, you’re looking at her.”
My mouth dropped. No way, this girl couldn’t be any older than I was! How could she own her own gallery already?
“Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack, I bought this place last year.” She threw her hands out as she gestured around her. The honest pride showed on her face. “It was a dump when I got it, but I think we’ve made it into something pretty special since then.”
“I’ll admit I’m impressed. But you’re so young, how’d you do it?”
“That’s a bit of a secret, the whole town is wondering how I’ve done this, so no offense but I can’t really tell you. You’ll just have to believe what everyone else does… it was magic.” She smiled broadly at her own joke, as puns about witchcraft were pretty popular in Salem. “I’m Joy by the way and you are…”
“I’m Paige, I just moved here from outside New York City.”
“Really? Very hip.”
I nodded. “So I guess then I should ask you, are there any openings for artists? Or how about any openings in general? I think I’m going to be here awhile.”
“Actually I’m looking for a new salesperson, are you interested? If you do a good job, and after a couple weeks, when we have an opening on the wall, I’ll show your stuff. Sound like a deal?”
“Definitely and thank you for the job, I really need one. Though I don’t know how you would need another salesperson. You can obviously sell your stuff well.”
“That’s true. I can sell my own stuff, but there are a lot of things in here that don’t belong to me and I guess I just don’t have the charm when it comes to them.” I was surprised with her honesty and how brilliant she was as a businesswoman. To look at her, with the long blonde hair and striking blue eyes, I don’t think you would realize how intelligent she really was.
“Alright, perfect, when can I start?” I hoped she would say soon. I just didn’t think I could hang out with Gran all day every day for too long.
“How about tomorrow, around ten in the morning? We have a new buyer coming in and I could use the extra hand.”
“Sounds great! I’ll see you then. Oh and Joy, can you give me some directions home? It seems I’ve gotten myself a bit turned around.”
“In this town, there are no wrong turns, just different paths,” she said with a sigh. She smiled as she wrote down directions back to the house on Elm.
When I arrived back at the house, I explained to my mom that I had already found a job and I intended on staying for the summer. After I told them all about meeting Joy, Gran chimed in.
“That Joy, she is a lovely girl. She’s doing such wonderful things for the town! That building she bought and renovated was such an eyesore before but now it’s one of the most happening spots in Salem. Some really think she puts a little bit of a spell over her clients.”
I rolled my eyes at her witchy humor. I guess that was something I was going to have to get used to.
My mom looked more relaxed, maybe even happier too, now that I’d found a job. It was the only thing she wanted me to do back home, one of the many things I refused to do in my dark state.
“Oh Paige I’m so proud of you! Already putting your stamp on this place, I think this’ll be a perfect fit for you. Right Mom?” She looked at my grandmother with that strong look in her eyes, both Gran and I knew there was no saying no to her.
“You are precisely right Gwen. I think she’ll fit in fine around here.”
We waved goodbye to my mother from the front porch. I knew I would have to call her later and explain that Gran had not been completely honest with how healthy she was, or was not. There was still the whole upstairs thing to contend with. I decided it would be best to discuss it with Gran first and get her side of the story. Maybe there was a weird superstitious reason that she didn’t want to go up there anymore. She was always doing things like that and I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, before ratting her out to Mom.
I turned to look at her. We were almost the same height so she really couldn’t get away from me as I put my hands on her shoulders. She knew I was about to get serious.
“Are we going to talk about the upstairs now?” As always she knew what was going to happen right before you did it.
“Yes Gran, we are. Why aren’t you going up there anymore? And why did you tell me to go up there and pick a room if all the doors are locked?”
She turned and walked back into the house. I followed her as she answered, “All the doors aren’t locked. I’m sure of it. Which doors did you try?” She looked at me like I was a silly little girl who didn’t follow directions.
“The first few I guess. They’re not open, I just assumed the rest were also locked.”
“Well darling perhaps I didn’t want you to get into all of the bedrooms. I haven’t used some of those bedrooms in years! It’s too much hassle to clean them and take care of them when you’re not using them.” Valid point, I thought to myself. “Some of the rooms don’t even have furniture in them anymore Paige.”
“But that doesn’t explain all the dust up there. Are you going up there at all?”
“From time to time, yes. But I will admit that I don’t go up the stairs as much as I used to.” She averted her eyes from my gaze, like a child getting caught doing something wrong.
“Gran where are you sleeping? And be honest, I don’t want to have to tell Mom on you.”
“So then don’t!” She looked back at me with fierceness in her eyes. “I sleep on the couch sometimes, it’s better for my back and I fall asleep watching my television shows. Is that really so wrong?”
“No, Gran, it’s fine, I just can’t have you lying to me. I don’t know what it’s like to live with you just as much as you don’t know what it’s like to live with me. If there are things that you’re doing, I need to know about them, so I can worry,” she narrowed her eyes once more, so I quickly added, “or so I know I don’t have to. Does that make sense to you? We need some type of deal here to get Mom off of both our backs.”
“All right I’ll make a deal with you Paige. My terms, you don’t tell your mother what I’m doing, where I’m sleeping, or what I’m eating. Sound fair?”
“Sounds fair to me. Now my terms, I get to do what I want while I’m here, no babysitting. And no mention of Nick or anything that has to do with the past nine months. I need a new start Gran. Please don’t let Mom and Dad’s views of how I’ve been effect how you treat me. Also, you’ve got to take your meds.”
She extended her hand to me with a small smile playing on her lips, “Deal.”
I took her hand and shook it, “Deal.” We were partners in crime.