As soon as the woman moved on to another artist, Mr. Wallace was at my side again. Elliot must’ve moved on as well, because he was nowhere to be seen.
“Abby, I’m disappointed,” Mr. Wallace said. “Your father assured me you would be mature.”
“My father? You know my father?”
“He emailed me. Didn’t he tell you? I thought that’s why you brought your paintings by last week.”
“He . . . emailed you? That’s why you picked me?”
“He said one of the paintings you were displaying was already sold, so it would be financially smart of the museum to allow an opportunity for the others to be seen. I meant to tell you earlier that you should put a Sold sticker next to the placard of the one that is sold.”
My dad had lied to get me into the show tonight? My paintings hadn’t earned their own way in?
“You have a patron.” Mr. Wallace nodded behind me, then left me standing there with that new information swirling around in my head and trying to drain out my eyes. I sniffed back the tears and joined the older gentleman looking at the painting of Cooper on the sand dunes. The painting looked so juvenile now. Nobody else at the show tonight had a quad on their canvases.
“My grandson would love this,” the man said.
I nodded numbly. “It’s my friend. He rides.”
“So does my grandson. How much?”
He was the first person to ask me my prices and I became tongue-tied. This man was buying this for a kid. My eyes slid to the fish painting next to it. My paintings—loved only by children. Maybe they were immature. I suddenly felt embarrassed. Like I was selling stuffed animals while everyone else was selling live exotic ones. Like I was the only amateur in a room full of professionals. Maybe Mr. Wallace really had been protecting me by telling me no. I wasn’t ready. My paintings weren’t ready.
“Young lady?” the man asked, sympathy in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Um. Yes. I . . . uh . . . I’m not sure how much I should sell that for.” I had researched and priced my paintings before the show, but now those prices seemed too high.
“Should I make you an offer?”
I turned to face him fully. I could do this. He wanted this painting, I was going to sell it to him. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, my eyes collided with a pin on the lapel of his suit coat—a US flag alongside an army one.
He knew my dad. My dad had sent him here. If my dad had been willing to lie to Mr. Wallace to get me in the show, I had no doubt he talked some of his friends into coming to support me. He probably even told them he’d buy a painting for them. Anger coursed through me.
“No. That one isn’t for sale, actually.” I’d planned to give it to Cooper, and if this was just someone my dad had told to come in, I wasn’t about to let it go. Where was Cooper? I was worried about him. His parents were still out of town, and his sister had gone to a friend’s today. Was he at home burning up with a fever?
“Oh. Okay. Someone beat me to it I guess,” the man said. He handed me his card. “If you ever paint another one featuring a quad, give me a call.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
He left and I paced, regardless of the blisters I now had on both feet. I paced and looked at the door. Before, I’d been begging time to slow down, and now I just wanted tonight to be over. My phone was buzzing. It rattled my bag on the chair behind the screen. At this point, I didn’t care what Mr. Wallace said. I pulled it out. Elliot’s name flashed across the screen and I furrowed my brow in confusion.
“Hello?”
“Hey.” It was Grandpa, and now I really was confused. “Thanks for sending Elliot, but she can’t do it. Take lots of pictures for us.”
“Elliot’s there?” I whispered back.
“Yes.”
“You can’t talk Mom into coming?”
“I’ve tried and it’s not working.”
“Then you come.”
“Abby, I can’t leave your mom like this. She’s a mess now.”
“What?” I asked in disbelief. “She doesn’t want you to come either?”
“It’s not that she doesn’t want me to come—”
“Is she telling you to come?”
“I don’t think I should leave her like this.”
“Okay,” I snapped and hung up the phone, angry tears stinging my eyes.
I didn’t take pictures. They could see all the paintings when I got home. They would all still be mine.
Cooper, are you okay? I tried one last time.
My phone said five minutes left. Five minutes. I counted to one hundred, then one hundred again and again, until Mr. Wallace stood by the door, saying good-bye to the last guest. Then as quickly as possible, I cleaned up my station, making several trips out to the car to store my paintings.
“Abby,” Mr. Wallace called as I passed him with my last armload.
“I can’t talk right now!” I answered over my shoulder. “I have to go. Emergency.” I didn’t look to see his face. I knew it would register disappointment.
At the car I took off my heels and threw them behind the driver’s seat. My paintings were tucked away in the back. I started the car, my hands shaking. I made it to Cooper’s in record time. His house was dark. I parked across the street.
First I rang the doorbell. I didn’t wait long before I was at his window though. “Cooper! Are you okay?”
I pried it open like I had before and climbed in. His room was pitch-black. I clicked on his desk lamp to see his bed was empty. I tore through the rest of his house, even checking his parents’ room. There was nobody there. The worry that had driven me to his house melted first into relief and then into anger. If he wasn’t here, where was he?
I could wait. I sat on his bed. It smelled like him, so I moved to the floor by the window. Ten thirty came and went. Then eleven. My phone buzzed.
The text was from Grandpa: Are you still at the museum?
No. Out. I’ll be home late.
Avoiding them right now felt like the best way to punish them. I knew I shouldn’t have been mad at my mom. She had an illness. One I realized now that she obviously needed help for. But my brain and my emotions weren’t playing well together. Because I was mad. I was mad at everyone really. Cooper, obviously. Grandpa, for not being able to talk Mom into coming and then not coming himself when he couldn’t. Dad, for forcing it to happen at all when I hadn’t earned it. I leaned my head back, letting it hit the wall. That sent a painful jolt through my already aching head. I rubbed my temples and thought about getting some aspirin from the medicine cabinet in Cooper’s bathroom but couldn’t find the energy to stand.
I hadn’t shut the window all the way, and a slight breeze played with my hair. I wondered if I should call the police. Had Cooper gotten in an accident? My mind wanted him to have a really good excuse for tonight. He would have a really good excuse.
My mind was also conjuring up something I had tried my hardest not to think about. But all that hurt I had pushed deep down inside me was rising to the surface as this new hurt filled me up.
Last year. The fateful night on the beach. Cooper and I had been hanging out after celebrating his one millionth win. Justin and Rachel hadn’t been able to make it to the after-party for one reason or another. But it didn’t matter. Cooper was high on life and his smile felt like the center of mine. I had realized, quite suddenly in that moment, that I lived for his smile. That every time I saw it, my own smile couldn’t help but appear. And I knew then and there that I’d do anything to see it. Happiness bubbled in my chest all fizzy and intoxicating. “We’re good together,” I’d said.
He’d met my stare, and his smile slowly fell away. I thought it had been because he was recognizing the seriousness of the moment, of what I was about to say, so I’d barreled forward. “I think I love you.”
His expression went darker, and then I knew. He didn’t feel the same way.
He’d punched my shoulder playfully and said, “You too, you’re a great friend.”
I hoped the dark night hid my red cheeks. I managed to keep the sting in my eyes from turning into tears and I forced myself to laugh. “You should see your face right now. Did you think I meant as more than a friend?”
His face went from horror to levity faster than I’d finished the sentence. He laughed too and let it go as easy as that.
I was pulled out of last year’s memory by a car door shutting out front, followed by laughter. It was crystal clear through the open window.
“I had fun today,” Cooper said. “Thanks for the surprise.”
“Of course.” That was Iris. “Thanks for coming so last-minute. I’m sorry about your phone.”
“It’s okay. I’ll try the rice thing.”
Cooper must’ve started walking away because Iris said, “Hey! Don’t I get a hug or anything?” There was a pause and then a squeal. Obviously Cooper had picked her up in a hug. I forced myself not to cry. I was too mad. I couldn’t let hurt take over.
When her car drove away, I stood up and tugged down the bottom of my dress. Why was I still here? I could just climb back out the window and confront him the next day, when my emotions were more reined in. I didn’t.
Cooper walked into his room and flipped on the overhead light. Then he let out a startled yell followed by a laugh. “You scared me.”
I didn’t respond.
“Did you miss me?” He took in my dress. “Wow. You look hot. Did you have a date tonight?”
Was he really asking that? He forgot? “No. I had that whole art show thing. Nothing big.”
His smile slid off his face and his brows went down. “No, that’s tomorrow.”
“Really? Huh. I guess nobody told all the artists and guests who showed up tonight.” My voice was like ice.
“You said it was on the twenty-first.”
“Today is the twenty-first, Cooper.”
“No, it’s the twentieth, right? Saturday?”
I snorted out an insincere laugh. I wanted to rip down all the pictures from his wall and shred them to pieces because the anger throbbing in my chest was so intense.
He shook his head. “Is it really Sunday? I’m a total jerk. My phone fell into a tide pool today. It’s completely busted. You haven’t been texting me at all this week. I’m not used to zero reminders about things.”
He was blaming this on me? Something washed over me. It started at my scalp and poured down my body in a numbing wave. It wasn’t exactly peace, but it was acceptance. Resolution, maybe. “I’m done,” I said, and I found that I truly meant it.
“I must’ve lost a day when I was sick,” he continued, without acknowledging what I’d said. “It’s summer. The days all blend together. Plus, I think Iris said it was Saturday this morning. She must’ve been confused too.”
“Oh, I’m sure she was so confused.”
“Why was that dripping sarcasm?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “No reason, Cooper. I’m done.”
“What does that mean? Why do you keep saying that?”
“This one-sided thing isn’t working. I can’t do it anymore. Have a good life.” I either had to climb out the window and look like a major buffoon with my short dress riding up to my waist or walk by him out the door he was still blocking and maintain my resolve.
I sensed it deep in my chest. I could walk by him.
He didn’t move when I reached the door. I looked up at him. His eyes were pained. It cracked my heart a little more.
“I’m sorry, Abby. Please don’t walk away like this. Let me make it up to you.” This was the Cooper that could normally get me to do anything. His pleading eyes, his charming smile, his persuasive voice. It didn’t work this time.
“Cooper. Move.”
“Abby, please don’t leave like this. How was the show? Does your mom hate me for not picking her up?”
“She didn’t come.”
He pushed his fingers against his closed eyes. “Oh no. I’m so sorry. I’m a huge jerk. The biggest one in existence.”
“Move,” I growled.
He reached out for my hand and I yanked it away violently. He wasn’t used to that from me, I could see it in his surprised expression. I didn’t ask him to move again. I pushed him aside and fled.
I made it to my car and drove down the block before I let the tears come. And they came.