He saw them right away. They were impossible to miss. He walked to each one, analyzing them, not saying a word. I had taken up post by the door, like a guard. Maybe it was so I could run at the first sign of rejection. Maybe it was to give him a moment to process alone.
I swallowed hard, then stepped forward.
“These are yours?” Mr. Wallace asked.
“Yes.”
“They’re interesting.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “Yes, I’ve been working on emotion.”
“I can see that.”
“I want to be in the show. I want these pieces to be in the show.”
“I already informed the winning applicants. We’re full.”
My heart dropped to my feet, and I was so tempted to flee like I had last time. I didn’t. I stood my ground. “What? You said you weren’t doing that for a couple more days.”
“I did it early.” He looked at my tree painting again. “But . . .”
“But?”
“Maybe,” he continued, “we can analyze the layout and see if we can squeeze an extra artist onto the sales floor.”
“Yes? Is that a yes?”
“What happens if you get no offers?”
“I’ll be fine with that. I just want the opportunity.”
“You have a lot of drive, Abby.”
“Sometimes.”
“Okay, I want you to draw up a chart of a new layout that can include everyone and bring it in for me to approve.”
I clapped my hands together once. “So that’s a real yes.”
He smiled. “Yes.”
I let out a short scream and threw my arms around him. “Thank you so much!”
“This is not professional, Abby.” There was a smile in his voice.
I dropped my arms. “You’re right.” I gave him a handshake instead, pumping his hand way too enthusiastically. I couldn’t control the adrenaline coursing through me. “Thank you.” I started to rush the door before he changed his mind, but then I whirled back around, remembering my paintings.
“Just leave them here,” he said. “So you don’t have to haul them back in. Stack them against the wall. Did you bring some cloths?”
“I did.”
I made quick work of the paintings, then left in a blur of happy emotions.
TWENTY-FIVE
I made it to the car without falling all over myself and climbed inside. I immediately texted Cooper: He said yes! He said yesssssss!!!
His response came seconds later: You asked someone to marry you?
I couldn’t even conjure up a sarcastic response, I was so excited: My paintings are in the show. He said yes. All five! I guess my heart has grown to epic proportions.
It’s about time he recognized your genius. I’m taking you out to celebrate. Your house in ten minutes?
Give me thirty. I need to pretend like I didn’t share this with you first and tell my family.
“Mom! Grandpa!” I burst into the house.
My mom jumped to her feet, her book clattering to the floor. She stepped over it and rushed to me. “What is it? Did something happen? A car accident? An earthquake? Did you get fired?” She’d grabbed me by the shoulders and was examining me from head to toe.
My mouth opened, then shut. “Really? Those were your first guesses?”
“You’ve never come in the house like that before. It worried me.”
“I’m fine. Better than fine. Where is Grandpa?”
“Outside.”
I went to the kitchen and opened the back door. Mom followed. “Come inside, Gramps! I have an announcement that supersedes the health of your vegetables!”
Grandpa went straight to the kitchen sink when he walked in the door and began scrubbing his hands with soap and water. “Is everything all right?”
Okay, maybe I needed to work on my tone when making announcements. “Well, there wasn’t an earthquake,” I said.
“Am I supposed to get that reference? Is that a young-person phrase for something earthmoving? Has your earth moved, Abby?” He turned off the water and dried his hands on the towel hanging on the oven.
I laughed. “Yes. Actually, it kind of has. I got into the art show!”
“What? You did?” Mom clapped her hands and gave me a hug. “I knew you would!”
I hugged her back, then turned to my grandpa.
Pride shone in his eyes. “Well, of course you did,” he said. “Am I supposed to be surprised?”
“You don’t have to be surprised, but you do have to be happy for me.”
“Done.” He gave me a bear hug.
“I need to go email Dad,” I said, rushing to my room.
I had just hit Send on my email when the doorbell rang. “Cooper is going to take me out to celebrate!” I yelled as I ran to answer the door. Cooper was there, fresh out of the shower. His hair was wet, his eyes bright with a smile. I threw my arms around his neck in a hug. He lifted me off my feet.
“Congrats!”
“Thanks. And thank you for doing the list with me.” It had given me insight into myself that I hadn’t expected.
He set me down and I started to go inside when he grabbed me by the wrist. I whirled back around to face him.
“I’m sorry for our stupid fight the other day.”
“Me too.”
“Can we both agree not to analyze each other’s brains again?”
I nodded resolutely. “I’m fine with that arrangement.” I pointed over my shoulder. “Let me grab my shoes and we can go.”
“Okay. I’m going to say hi to your grandpa and mom.”
“Sounds good.” I went to my room and he went to the living room. I heard his greeting as I searched for my flip-flops in my closet.
“It’s great news about Abby,” he said.
“Yes, we’re proud, and so is her father,” Mom said.
My father? I’d just barely emailed him. Had Mom called him too? I pulled out one polka-dot flip-flop but couldn’t find the other. I dug under a pile of clothes. I needed to clean my closet.
“Me too,” Cooper said.
“Where are you taking her?” Grandpa asked.
“I don’t know. Milk shakes, maybe? She likes milk shakes.”
“Aha!” I said as I freed my second flip-flop. I slid them onto my feet and went to join the others.
“Have fun,” Mom said when she saw me.
“Did you call Dad tonight?”
She looked at the clock on the wall. “No. It’s too early there right now. I’ll let him know.”
“But you said he was proud.”
She smiled. “Of course he’s proud. He always talks about your art.”
“Oh.” She just meant in general. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You ready?” Cooper asked.
“Yep. Let’s go.”
For a Sunday evening, the milk shake place was packed. We’d already been waiting in line for ten minutes when the bell on the door rang for the millionth time and a new group of people walked in.
“Cooper!”
Cooper’s smile stretched wide. “Ris! Hi.”
She joined us in line, leaving her other group behind. “I thought you said you were busy tonight.”