“If I were to price each painting at fifty dollars, do you think that these fancy art collectors would look twice at it?” Gordon asked. “They need to believe that these paintings are important, that they’re worth something, and the best way to make sure of that is to price high. You should be thrilled; at those prices even after I take my twenty percent; you’ll be left with a more than decent amount.”
“If I manage to sell even one tonight,” I said huffily. “Which I doubt.”
“You never know,” Gordon shrugged. “The art world is a gamble.”
“That’s it?” I asked as Gordon headed out into his gallery.
“Yup… now stop following me and go and mingle. People have started to arrive.”
It took another hour before the gallery could be considered full, but it gave me some time to get my bearings and put my game face on. I did just like Zack had advised and put Zoey out of my mind, which was not easy to do considering her painting was always there in my peripheral vision, reminding me of what I had lost to get here.
As it turned out, I had something to say about the art world, and I actually found it easy to talk to the people who stopped by to view my work. I was staring at my paintings, wondering if I would even manage to sell one tonight when there was a light tap on my shoulder. Instantly I thought ‘Zoey,’ and I whirled around hoping to see her.
I froze in place when I saw whom it really was.
“Mom,” I said, in amazement. “Dad.”
“Hello, son,” mom said.
“You came?”
“You sent us an invitation,” dad replied brusquely. “Or was that a mistake on your part?”
“Of course not,” I said quickly. “I just… I’m surprised that you actually came.”
I had sent the invitation almost a week ago, feeling fairly confident that they would choose not to come. But I had felt that I needed to do it as a gesture of goodwill. Dad had bailed me out after all, and it was the least I could do to say thank you, especially since I didn’t think I was going to be able to pay him back anytime soon.
“We wanted to see what you gave up your old life for,” dad said, staring at my work.
“Well… what do you think?” I asked.
Mom smiled as she looked at the picture of Zoey. “She was right,” mom said softly. “You are a talented artist.”
Dad just stared ahead, but I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. It was the tiniest gesture on his part, but it meant a lot to me.
“So,” mom said, turning to me. “How are you?”
Dad was still looking at my paintings on the wall behind me. “Uh… I’m ok,” I nodded.
“And… how is Zoey?”
I paused. “She’s… we’re no longer together,” I admitted.
I saw mom’s face drop visibly and dad looked towards me with an unreadable expression.
“You can say it,” I said before they could beat me to the punch. “I deserve that.”
“Shame,” dad said. “We liked her.”
Coming from him, that was high praise, and it said a lot about Zoey that she had managed to melt my parents to a degree. Apparently, she had been the only thing about my life that they had approved of. I hated to admit it, but it stung. However, I tried to tell myself that the fact that they had shown up here at all was a big deal. Maybe this was their step towards me. Maybe this was their way of saying that they wanted a relationship with me.
“We should look around,” dad said, putting an abrupt end to our conversation.
“Thank you for coming,” I told them.
I milled around the gallery, talking to people and trying not to drink too many glasses of wine. I needed to keep my wits about me, but as the night drew on, I realized I was just waiting for Zoey to show up.
“Fucking hell, man, you must be thrilled,” Zack said, grabbing me by the shoulders from behind and shaking me a little.