Chapter 15
First Gallery Day
The morning after our little adventure in the Briarwood was my first official day as a gallery artist. I knew that. I had known it for weeks. That didn’t make it any less terrifying. Real paintings. Mine. Hanging on actual gallery walls where complete strangers could walk past them, stop to look at them, and decide whether they liked them or not.
I had spent most of the morning trying very hard not to think about that last part. It wasn’t working. I’d already changed my outfit twice. I’d spent nearly ten minutes staring at my reflection trying to decide whether my hair looked gallery appropriate. There was no such thing as gallery appropriate hair. I knew that. And yet… I pulled my hair back, immediately regretting it. Without it framing my face, my pointy ears were more noticeable, and I suddenly felt strangely exposed. No, I was definitely wearing it down.
“You’re being ridiculous, Pearl.” My reflection didn’t answer.
I sighed. That never helped. I just kept having different variations of the same thoughts, over and over. I needed to get them out onto paper.
Goldleaf 12 Y487
Dear Journal,
Today is the day. My paintings are going on display. Actually on display. In a real gallery. People I’ve never met are going to walk past them. Look at them. Judge them. Maybe even… Buy them?
Nervous,
Pearl
I felt queasy at that last thought. I took a deep breath. Then another. Nope. Still terrifying. Thankfully, Mai arrived before I could talk myself into changing my outfit for a third time.
She knocked twice before letting herself in. “Pearl!”
“Morning.”
She stopped just inside the door. Her eyes immediately narrowed. “You’re nervous.”
“I’m fine.”
“You changed your shirt.”
I froze. “How do you know that?”
She looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “You told me what you were going to wear yesterday.”
“Oh.” I must have been really out of it. I looked at myself in the mirror again. I had settled on a white blouse with little gray daisies all over it, and a pair of dark gray jeans. “Do I look okay?”
She grinned. “You look great. Now come on, artist. Let’s go see your paintings.”
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The walk into town went by quickly. Too quickly. I found myself walking a little faster the closer we got to the Lupine Gallery.
Mai noticed. “You’re speed walking.”
“I’m walking.”
“You’re walking aggressively.”
I laughed nervously. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when I get there.”
“Look at your art.” She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“What if someone hates it?”
“Then they’re wrong.”
“Mai.”
“What?”
I smiled fondly. “You’re not exactly unbiased.”
We reached the gallery. I stopped outside, all but biting my nails.
Mai took my arm gently. “Come on.”
I took one deep breath, then followed her inside.“Cypress!” Mai called.
“Well, look who finally decided to show up.” She looked at me, grinning wide. “You ready?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I frowned. “Good?”
“Means you care.”
I wasn’t sure that made me feel better. Mai was already pulling me toward the staircase. “Come on!”
“Mai!”
“You’re going to love it.”
I stopped halfway up the stairs. “Oh.”
Mai turned. “What?”
I didn’t answer. I was staring. My paintings. They were there. I could see them from here, just slightly. Hanging on the wall. One corner of my windmill painting. Framed. Lit. Displayed alongside the work of artists who had been painting professionally for years.
I couldn’t move. Mai came to stand beside me. “Pearl.”
I swallowed, making my way up the rest of the stairs. “They’re really here.” The windmill. Moonwater Lake. The bridge.
“Yeah.” Mai sounded almost as awestruck as I felt.
“I know, but…” My voice caught. I stepped closer. The little plaque beside the first painting had my name printed on it. Pearl Frost. I stared at it. My name. On a gallery wall. I felt something inside my chest loosen. For so long, art had been something I did alone. Something private. Something that belonged to me. Now it was here. Out in the world. I reached out, stopping myself before I touched the frame.
“You’re an artist,” Mai said quietly, smiling softly. “You know that, right?”
“I think I’m starting to.”
“Good.”
We stood there for another moment. Then I noticed someone standing in front of my painting of Moonwater Lake. A Berry I’d never seen before. She stood completely still. Her shoulders were slightly hunched. One hand covered her mouth. The other gently wiped at her cheek.
My heart stopped. I stared. Was she… Crying?
“Oh no.” I whispered to Mai.
“What?”
“She hates it.”
Mai stared at me. “She’s crying.”
“Exactly!”
“Pearl.”
“People don’t cry when they like paintings!”
Mai looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “People cry when they love paintings. You do!”
“Yeah, but-” I was already panicking. Maybe the painting reminded her of something awful. Maybe she thought it was—
The woman turned. Our eyes met. She quickly wiped beneath her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” I waved my hands. “You don’t have to apologize!”
She smiled sadly. “No, I just…” Her eyes drifted back toward the painting. I followed her gaze. “I didn’t expect to see this.”
My anxiety shifted into confusion. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head. “No.” Her voice was soft. “Nothing’s wrong.” She took one more look at the painting, playing with a ring on her left hand. A wedding band. “It reminds me of my husband.”
I didn’t know what to say.
The woman smiled faintly. “He used to take me there.” She pointed toward the painted lake. “Not this exact spot, I don’t think. But somewhere that looked very much like it.”
I looked at my painting. At the water. The trees. The distant mountains. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course you didn’t.” She laughed quietly. “That’s the funny thing about art, isn’t it?” She smiled. “Sometimes you see something that someone else made, and somehow,” she touched her heart, “it belongs to you, too.”
I couldn’t speak. The woman gave me one last smile before turning back toward the painting.
I stood there beside Mai. Silent. I’d always thought of my paintings as pieces of myself. My memories. My feelings. My rebellion.* I had never considered that someone else might find themselves in them. That something I’d created could mean something completely different to someone I’d never even met. Somehow, that made it even more beautiful.
I looked at my name on the plaque again. Pearl Frost. For the first time, I didn’t feel like an imposter. I was an artist. Maybe I always had been. I just hadn’t believed it yet.
“Pearl.” I turned. Neptune was walking toward us.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning.” He smiled. “I figured we’d be seeing you today.” His eyes shifted toward Mai. “And Mai as well.”
“Of course, gotta support my bestie.” Mai said proudly.
Neptune gestured toward the walls. “Your art looks good on our walls, don’t you think?”
“It looks amazing!” Mai practically bounced. “I’ve told her for years she has real talent!”
I felt my face heat up. Neptune chuckled. “I fully agree.” He glanced toward the staff hallway and then his watch. “But you two enjoy yourselves. I have to run.”
He started to walk away. Then stopped. “Oh, Pearl. Depending on how these first few weeks go, we may ask you for a few more paintings.” My heart nearly stopped. “If that’s alright.”
“Of course!” The answer came out so quickly I nearly embarrassed myself.
Neptune smiled. “Excellent.”
Then he was gone. I stared after him. Mai stared at me. I stared at Mai. “Did you hear that?” I asked her. I was fully dazed.
“Yes.”
“He wants more.”
“Yes.”
“More paintings.”
“Pearl.”
“More.”
“Pearl!”
I grabbed both of her hands. She grabbed mine. Suddenly we were jumping up and down in the middle of the gallery, trying desperately to keep our squeals quiet.
“We have to be quiet!” I whispered.
“We are being quiet!”
“We’re absolutely not!”
“We’re whisper-screaming!”
“We’re what?”
We dissolved into laughter.
Lazuli called from downstairs. “I can hear you from the kitchen!”
We froze. Mai called back. “Mind your business!”
Cypress laughed. I covered my face. This was my life now. Apparently. I loved it.
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We spent the next hour looking around the gallery. As we were leaving, Detective Valentine walked up the staircase. She wasn’t in her usual uniform. Instead, her long hair was down and completely loose. She wore a light pink top with one shoulder, a black choker with silver studs and a hollow metal heart in the middle, and dark pink jeans. It was a very different look for her. It suited her.
“Detective,” I said in greeting.
“Please, call me Astral. I’m not on the clock right now, anyway. I actually came by to see your paintings, Pearl.”
“Oh.” I blushed. “Thank you… I hope you like them.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will.” Then, she was walking past us.
Was it my imagination or was her tone kind of flirty? No. There was no way. Stop being silly, Pearl.
We continued down the stairs back into the bar. Cypress was nearby, organizing something with her back to us. “Try not to cause any trouble, you two.”
“I never cause trouble,” Mai said. Cypress turned and stared at her. She smiled. “Okay, rarely.”
“That’s better.”
We waved goodbye and headed outside. I glanced back at the stone building one last time. My paintings were still there. They weren’t going anywhere.