Chapter Three
One year earlier…
Noelle’s head pounded and her body ached with tension after she walked out of class, disappointed and more than a little frustrated. There wasn’t much she could brag about but her art was one thing she could at least say she was good at. Now she wasn’t so sure. Her professor seemed to have it out for her. No matter how hard she worked on a project he always found something wrong with it. To make matters worse, it seemed as if he’d go out of his way to humiliate her in front of the rest of the class, holding her work up for scrutiny and ridicule.
At the end of his classes she felt two inches tall. Today was no exception. Perhaps her Aunt was right. She would never be good at anything and she had no business coming to the city to pursue the pipe dream of making a living from her art.
On the bus ride home she sat in the back with her head against the window trying to hold back tears. By the time the bus came to Noelle’s stop, her head felt as if it was literally being hit with a pickaxe over and over again. The pain was nearly unbearable and her vision blurred. In times of stress she got terrible migraines that caused her nausea and vomiting. Her stomach twisted in knots and it took a considerable amount of effort to walk to the apartment building she shared with her cousin.
Noelle practically crawled up the stairs to get to her door and unlock it. Somehow she made it to her bedroom. Once there, she closed the curtains not allowing any light to come in and she fell across the bed. She didn’t remember passing out but she must have because the next thing she remembered was feeling something cool and damp being placed across her forehead. She also experienced the sensation of being elevated and pills being pushed past her lips followed by a glass of water.
“Come on hon, take a sip to wash the medicine down. They’ll make you feel better.” Her cousin’s soothing voice broke through her haze.
Noelle winced as she drank just enough to wash the pills down. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“No problem. You call me if you need anything, okay?”
Noelle twisted her lips in what she hoped was a smile. After being gently positioned against her pillow she fell into a deep dreamless sleep. When she woke up again her head felt significantly better. Glancing at the digital clock on her nightstand, she saw she’d been out for at least four hours.
She found Simone standing over the oven, cooking dinner. “Something smells good,” Noelle complimented, going to the refrigerator to get some orange juice.
“Thanks. I’d thought I’d try a stir fry tonight. How’s your head?”
“Much better, thanks. Did I imagine it or were you home earlier than usual today.”
“Yes. There was a bit of an incident at the store so I came home early. I saw the apartment door was open and knew something was the matter. What’s going on? You only get sick like that when something’s bothering you.”
Noelle poured herself a glass of juice and placed the container back in the fridge. She took a seat at the kitchen table. “Professor McGregor hates me and hates my work. I’ve tried really hard to please him but nothing ever seems to make him happy. And he goes out of his way to make an example out of my work in front of the class. Aunt Frieda was right. I have no business going to art school. Art is the only talent I have and now I have a professor basically telling me I’m not good at it.”
Simone turned around with compressed lips and her hands on her hips. “Girl, not this shit again. My mother doesn’t know everything even though she thinks she does. And since she married Pastor Walter her head is even further up her butt than it was before. You have to stop doubting yourself. What does that stupid professor know anyway? If he was so great why isn’t he making a living as an artist? You know what they say… ‘those who can’t teach.’”
Noelle appreciated Simone taking up for her but it was hard to believe in herself when she had been told a good chunk of her life she wouldn’t amount to much of anything. “Professor McGregor has a doctorate in art studies and he’s written several books respected in the art community. And he seems to think I suck. At this point I’m inclined to agree with him. If I can’t make it in his class, maybe I should start focusing on something else.”
Simone held up her hand. “Stop it. I hate hearing you so down on yourself all the time. It makes me sad because you have this gift and there’s so much going for you but you just don’t see it. You’ve been away from my mom’s influence for three years. It’s time to stop believing all that bullshit she fed you.”
“It’s easy for you to say. You’re pretty, smart and outgoing. I’m--”
“Noelle, whatever you’re about to say, I don’t want to hear it. There’s only so many times I can tell you how wonderful you are but unless you believe it, I’m wasting my breath. Obviously your professor is a prick. He’s probably jealous of your talent. If you feel he’s not giving you a fair chance then transfer classes or take the class next semester. If you’re not going to do anything about it, stop whining.”
Simone turned her back to Noelle, clearly irritated with the conversation. She hadn’t meant to annoy her cousin. Simone was only other person who’d ever championed her besides her mother.
Noelle didn’t remember her father since he’d passed away when she was a baby, but her mother had been her everything. They didn’t have much in the way of material things but what was lacking in the financial area was more than made up for in the abundance of love her mother had showered on her. Dorothy Bea, her mother, had been so achingly beautiful people would give her give her second, third and often fourth looks as she’d walk by. Noelle’s favorite memories or her mother was when they baked together. Her mother would come up with the most amazing concoctions. She worked in a grocery store bakery and had dreams of opening her own bakery.
Those dreams came to a screeching halt when Dorothy Bea died. Noelle was devastated. She’d lost her rock and her best friend. She’d always been shy and found it hard to make friends because of a stutter which was particularly bad when she was nervous or agitated. With the loss of her mother, her speech impediment grew worse. She was teased for it to the point she talked as little as possible.
It didn’t help matters that she was taken in by an aunt who made it a point to let her know she was only doing her Christian duty than any sense of loving feelings toward her niece. Her Aunt Frieda had not been openly cruel or laid a hand on Noelle. But she had a subtle way of making Noelle feel as though she were a burden and less than worthy of any kind of love. Ten years of subtle barbs inferring she was stupid, unattractive, and just generally a waste of breath had worn down her self esteem to the point where she barely had any. She’d only had her art but now she wasn’t sure she had that.
Noelle wanted to say something that would stop her cousin from being mad at her but she was at a loss for words. She looked down at the table and twiddled her thumbs for lack of anything better to do.
It was Simone who finally broke the awkward silence when she walked over, pulled out a chair and plopped down with a heavy sigh. “You know I love you don’t you hon?” Simone took Noelle’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Yes,” Noelle whispered in reply without looking up.
“You’re more than a cousin to me, you’re my little sister.” Simone continued to rub her hand.
This brought a smile to Noelle’s lips. Simone had taken Noelle under her wing when she’d moved into her aunt’s house and had always been kind. She’d made those first few years in the house almost bearable. And now in adulthood they were closer than ever. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry for annoying you. I don’t mean to.”
“You have nothing to apologize for. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Blame it on my bad day.” Simone got a faraway look in her eyes but just as quickly as it appeared it disappeared.
For the first time since she entered the room Noelle noticed something was the matter with her cousin. It was her turn to give an encouraging squeeze. “Simone is everything okay?”
Simone’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. I think I know you well enough to notice something is really bothering you. Did the work situation really get to you?”
Simone pulled her hand away and rubbed her temples. “I’m ready to leave my job. The powers that be are taking the store in a direction I’m not happy with and it’s no longer employee friendly. I want to start my own boutique to showcase my designs. I think all the chaos at work lately is some kind of sign I should go for my dream now rather than later. I have a pretty nice nest egg set up and if I can get a business loan that would take care of the rest.”
“That’s wonderful, Simone. If anyone can make it happen you can. You’ve always dreamed of owning your own clothing store.”
Simone smiled. “Yes and I think it’s time to make that dream come true. It’s going to take a lot of hard work and time but if it’s not worth working for it’s not worth having right?”
“Everything you’ve put your mind to, you’ve been able to accomplish. I don’t know how much help I’d be but if you need me in any capacity I’m here for you.”
“I’ll hold you to that. But for now, how about setting the table so we can eat? Oh, and by the way, I won a one month free trial to this really upscale gym. I was thinking of checking it out tonight. Apparently all the rich people go there. What better place to start networking?”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I’m allowed to bring a friend. How about it?”
Noelle who had never stepped foot in a gym in her life knew she’d probably make a fool of herself. “Uh, I’m an uncoordinated mess. I’ll pass. Why don’t you take Tanisha? She’d like rubbing elbows with rich people. And she’s in much better shape than I am. I’m sure she’d appreciate it more than I would.”
“I’d rather go with you. Come on, a good workout will help clear your head. And who knows? You might meet some rich hunk who’ll sweep off your feet.”
Noelle rolled her eyes knowing there was absolutely no chance of that happening.