Joe

I wake up with a snap, not with my usual fog and sludge weighing me down. Instead, as soon as my eyes are open, I feel alert.

I left the curtains open, so the room is bright and cheery. Wedges of blue sky are visible through the windows. I can even hear the seagulls from here.

Filled with a sense of eager anticipation, I get dressed in a hurry in a pair of jeans and tank top, with a long-sleeved lightweight flannel on top in case the gallery is a dusty mess. It’s good to have layers of protection, my dad always taught me.

It’s early, but as I walk down the road toward Main Street, I already see people going about their daily business. Ladies in hats tend to their gardens. Kids yelp from playgrounds and cheese each other under the palm trees. A lime-green lizard darts across the sidewalk into the scrub.

I can see that there are several pickup trucks in front of the gallery. I imagine they are already at work. It has only been about thirty-six hours since the last time that I saw the space, but I’m still excited to see what has happened in the meantime.

As I’m walking, I see a familiar figure outside the general store and cross the street to chat with Dusty. When she sees me, she opens her mouth in a wide, excited smile. She seems to be on break again.

“Hey, you!” she calls out. “Looks like everybody is hard at work! This is really happening?”

“I’m just on my way over there,” I explain. “But yeah, it’s really happening. I’m glad to catch you… I didn’t get your phone number or anything.”

She smiles even broader. “So you are really serious about that? About giving me a job?”

“Of course I was serious about that. The gallery opening event is in seven days. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. Can you send me your email?”

Dusty bounces up and down on her toes, clearly excited. “Sure! I will get you everything you need. You won’t be disappointed, JoJo. I’ll make you proud!”

“I know you will, Dusty,” I smile, feeling very satisfied that I put all this together. “We will talk more later, okay? I’ll see you soon!”

“Bye!” she calls out happily as I continue to the gallery, feeling confident and secure.

The sound of circular saw screams out over the sidewalk as I get closer, and the gallery door swings open. My dad lumbers out, holding a door over one shoulder. He chucks it into the back of his pickup before he sees me.

“Hey there, boss lady,” he smirks. “Coming to check up on the crew?”

“Oh, you’re the boss,” I laugh, holding my arms out. “I’m here to work! I wore socks and everything!”

He twists his lips into a smirk and looks me up and down. Before I can say anything else, his arms close around me, squeezing me in a tight, dust-scented hug.

“You are the cutest construction worker I ever had,” he remarks. “But to be honest, I think we have the whole thing handled. You want to see?”

“Definitely!”

Dad leads the way, swooping his arm out gallantly so I can enter. As soon as I walk over the threshold, I stop, trying to take it all in.

The whole place is different. Not gutted, but not the same. The suspended ceiling is gone. The office door is now the color of unfinished wood with a gleaming pewter handle. It’s as though everything has been scraped down past the grime. Not finished, exactly—but it’s more of a clean slate.

“Now, I realize you’re going to have to use a little imagination…” he begins cautiously.

“Oh, I totally see it!” I reassure him, a smile stretching across my face. “In fact, if I squint, it almost looks like it has a chance! Really!”

He nudges me gently on the shoulder with his elbow. “It’s got more than a chance, JoJo,” he chides me. “It’s going to happen. I give you my word. What’s really great is Phyllis had all of the electrical and plumbing upgraded right before she passed on. And the structure is in great condition. The rest is just the bathrooms for wheelchair access and cosmetic stuff. We got this.”

I look up at him, grinning. “You know what? I’m not even worried,” I tell him truthfully. “I think this is going to be okay!”

Dipping his head to kiss me on my forehead, he gives me a wink and pivots away to a small group of men who look like they are not working at peak efficiency right now. On my own, I sort of circle the perimeter of the room, trying to imagine it in a few days. When the new ceiling tiles and the track lighting are in, the whole place will feel different. New drywall and refinished floors… Paint... Signage and some well-placed sculptures…

Holy cow. It’s going to be okay.

Absentmindedly I drag my cell phone from my back pocket and start dialing before I even know I’m doing it. In a few seconds, Didi’s voice is on the other end of the line.

“Hello?” she says tentatively.

“Didi! Hey, girl, what’s up?” I say cheerily as I brush some ceiling dust off the wall.

Honestly, do we need new drywall? I think distractedly, I wonder if paint and a picture rail would solve this. Maybe save us a couple of days. I should ask my dad.

“Joe? Um, you called me?” she says, her voice slow and cautious.

“Oh, right! Hey… I just want to give you an update. Looks like we’re good. I mean, it’s not great. It’s probably not going to be everything that you planned. But we will be on schedule. The opening is good to go.”

“What? Seriously?” comes her hurried response. “Oh my God. I thought you were calling to tell me that we were going to have to cancel! That is so great!”

“Just count yourself lucky that my dad is some kind of genius,” I smile.

I know I should be more stern with her, but at this point, all I can feel is relief.

“Yes! A genius! That’s what I’ve always said!”

This feels good, I have to admit. Really good. So good, I’m having a hard time remembering why I did not want to be a part of it at all.

“So can you send me a video?” she asks carefully.

“A video? Of what?”

“Like, the space. Like just walk around. So Martha knows—”

“Hold on, Martha knows what I’m doing here, right? You told her, right?”

“I don’t know… told her what?”

I stop walking and plant my feet, perching my fist on my hip.

“Didi, did you tell her that the gallery didn’t get done? That we are trying to play catch-up?”

I hear her cough, twelve hundred miles away.

“Didi?”

“Joe, what’s to tell? You just told me everything was going to be finished, right? So what would be the point?”

“I don’t know… Maybe letting her know how I spent fifty thousand dollars in less than two weeks? Don’t you think she’s going to wonder about that?”

“Oh, she barely pays attention to any of that kind of stuff,” Didi replies breezily. “I don’t even think she will notice.”

“But if she does notice, you’re okay with her laying everything on me? Is that what you are telling me?”

“Joe, you are really being dramatic about this,” she snaps.

I freeze in place, grinding my molars together. It feels like Didi is pushing me in front of the bus, yet again. She does this when she feels cornered. She looks for a shield, I figure.

“How are you feeling?” I ask her. “How is your leg?”

“I can barely feel it!” she giggles. “Or anything else, for that matter.”

My stomach tightens. She did break her leg just a few days ago. It should be pretty sore.

“Oh, you got some good pain relievers?”

“Joe, I got the best pain relievers! The absolute best.”

“You have to be careful with those,” I tell her, aware that I sound like I am mothering her. “They sound pretty strong.”

“Whatever. You break your leg sometime, and then tell me what to do. You know what I’m saying?”

I shake my head but don’t answer her. I do not know what she is saying, honestly.

“So, I gotta go!” she singsongs. “Say hi to the family for me!”

The line goes dead, and I let my hand fall to my side. Tension creeps through my body, starting in my gut. On the other hand, I realize that I’m just now feeling it. So that means I didn’t feel it this morning, and maybe that really was because of Dr. Warner.

But here it is again, right back where I started. It’s like a thundercloud going over the sun. The gallery seemed completely possible, and everything felt for a moment like it was going to work out. Now I am shrouded in doubt again, worrying about things I can’t control.

Didi sounds suspiciously pain-free. With her tendency to go overboard, I wonder if anybody is keeping an eye on her back in New York. But I am too far away to do anything about it. And I have plenty to keep me busy here. More than enough.

I slide the heel of my hand across the plaster wall again, happy to have something solid to push my weight against. My dad catches my eye from across the room and I jerk my chin at him, to get his attention.

“What’s up, JoJo?” he asks.

“I was just thinking, is the plaster okay like it is? Maybe we don’t have to drywall?”

He leans back on his heels, contemplatively scanning the wall from here to the front window.

“You could be right,” he nods. “That would save us a couple of days, to be honest. We could give the floor an extra day to harden.”

“Yeah? Would that work?”

“Yeah, I think it would,” he smiles at me, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear. “You’re a genius, JoJo. Just like your old man.”

I love the praise, and I feel pretty good as he walks away, but I can’t shake the rain clouds that have covered my mood now. All the things I have to do crowd into my mind at once, all jockeying for position, and I can’t focus. And then I remember I may have a way out of this.

Picking my cell phone back up, I find Dr. Warner in my contact list.

Hi.

I squint at the phone. That was a terrible message. But he replies right away.

Hi, yourself. What’s up?

For a moment, I’m not sure what to say. Do I flirt? Do I make an appointment with Jen or something? Then again, I think we’ve already discussed the parameters of our arrangement. I should just be direct, right?

I think I need to see you today. Six o’clock, my place?

He answers in ten seconds.

I’ll be there.