Be My Friday Night (20 page)

Good of a time as any
. Sam told herself.

“I’m renting the space Zelda owns behind the pizzeria on the alley. I’m going to turn it into an art gallery. I was just thinking tonight might be a good night to go and visit my new space. You know, to go figure some stuff out,” she said.

Otto’s eyes lit up as she spoke. Sam couldn't help but feel his warmth spread over her. He was thrilled for her.

“That’s so great Sam. Um, do you want me to come with you?” Otto said.

Now his eyes were eager.

Part of Sam wanted nothing more than to sneak away with Otto to the new gallery space. There was another part of Sam who wanted nothing more than to be alone in the space for a little while.

Sam grinned up at him and put her hand on his arm.

“Think I’ll go across the way by myself tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow to help chaperone the homecoming dance, and I’d love it if you came by and visited me in the gallery sometime this weekend,” she said.

Otto nodded and pulled her in closer for a good-bye kiss. There were a few hoots and hollers from the surrounding crowd in the pizzeria, but Sam didn’t let the ruckus bother her. After a final good-bye from Otto, she slipped out the back door of the restaurant and into the alley. She pulled the key Zelda had given her on the way out of the pizzeria from her pocket. Sam took a deep breath and opened the door.

The walls needed a new coat of paint. Sam was surprised by the anticipation that filled her. The possibilities for the building swirled in her mind. Her head told her she should feel overwhelmed by the project, but her heart soared with the opportunity of something so new.

Zelda had put some furniture in the gallery so the place wouldn’t look completely abandoned. There was a cozy looking couch with pillows and blankets, a floor lamp sitting beside the couch, a rug Zelda had probably acquired from her travels, and a coffee table with a few old copies of
Vogue
stacked on it.

If she had been in the city, Sam would’ve taken a good look at the space, and gone home to return in the morning, but now she was in Grover. She curled up on the couch with a magazine and a blanket. Eventually she turned off the lamp and slipped into dreamland.

* * *

T
he next morning
Sam cleaned the hardwood floor. She walked down to the newsstand, bought every decorating and design magazine for sale, and picked up a bottle of champagne and a bar of dark chocolate on the walk back to the gallery.

She sat on the floor of the gallery, paging through the magazines, cutting and tearing out anything and everything that caught her eye. She loved all the possibilities for the space. There were so many ways to make it her own.

Yes, there would be white walls to display the art, but there needed to be something more. She wanted the space to have a warmness most galleries lacked. She wanted the gallery to glow with a welcoming feeling.

Next, it was time for paint. She returned from the hardware store and plunked the paint buckets onto the white sheet covering the hardwood floor. She cracked open the paint cans with the stir stick, dipped her new brush into a pool of a lacy white paint and began. The paint was smooth and wet on the walls. Sam fell into a meditation; she felt alive and calm all at the same time.

“Need some help?” Otto’s voice came from the doorway.

Sam’s stomach tingled in surprise and anticipation from the sound of Otto's voice. She decided not to turn around for fear that the anticipation could be seen on her face as well. She was still feeling vulnerable in her new space, and not even Otto would disturb her alone time.

“Grab a brush if you want,” she said as she reached for a spot high on the wall.

Otto leaned over and began covering the spot with long strokes from his paint brush.

“Thanks,” Sam said. She turned to the next wall.

“So you came back. I just wanted to reiterate that you’re back for sure,” said Otto.

“I am, and I'm also a renter of commercial real estate in this town,” said Sam, continuing to paint.

“I would have come with you wherever you ended up, wherever you wanted to be,” said Otto. He stopped painting and faced her.

Sam turned to him, the paint brush held in a fist placed firmly on her hip.

“I know. I just realized I was going against everything I was being led to. Led back to Grover, led to this space, led to you,” she said. She averted her gaze, the last part being the hardest to say out loud.

Otto grinned.

“And here you are,” he said.

Walking away from Otto the night before had not been the easiest move to make after not seeing him for almost a week. Sam was done talking. In a quick movement of the wrist, she flicked her paintbrush in Otto’s direction. Small splatters of paint covered his long body.

“Oops, looks like my brush slipped,” said Sam.

Otto lunged for the paint stick, and before Sam could do anything, she was also covered in paint. Sam closed her eyes and let out a shriek. Eyes closed, Sam could feel Otto rush close to her body. He wrapped his arms around her. Sam let her body relax in his embrace. Otto took this as his chance to let a cold finger slide one single line of paint down the side of her face.

Sam jerked back.

“Hey!” she said. Paint brush out, she flung more paint in Otto’s direction, every once and a while hitting his chest with the bristles of her brush.

Otto laughed out loud and pulled her back into him for a long kiss. Sam surrendered. It tasted so good to be back.

Slowly, Sam realized Otto was nudging her toward the couch. He was also tugging on the sleeve of her tank top.

“The windows,” she said between kisses, motioning to the wide windows lining the front of the gallery.

Otto pulled away from her and dashed over to the wall next to the windows. Gently, he began pulling the ties for each set of hand sewn curtains for the windows. Each curtain fell into place, creating a room full of dashes of light and shadows.

Otto returned to Sam, picked her up, and placed her on the couch. Sam couldn’t help but grin as he kissed her. It was good to be home.

S
am relaxed
her shoulders and shook back her hair. She let her curls fall playfully around her face. The gallery was dimly lit with carefully placed candles in hurricane lanterns Julia had blown especially for the event. The candlelight glistened amongst the other delicate glass creations sitting on pedestals foraged for the occasion: large smooth stones and tree stumps from the outskirts of Grover were the perfect foundations for the sea inspired sculptures.

Suspended from the ceiling hung the piece de resistance, a gorgeous chandelier with graceful tentacles in muted pinks, oranges and purples. It would be lit after dinner. It was also the older sister counterpart to the coral-like chandeliers hanging from the trees above the dinner table on the patio. Tiny twinkle lights had been woven into the tree branches as well, complementing the glass chandeliers.

Sam heard voices outside on the patio as guests began to arrive. She delighted in the joy in their voices as they saw and commented on the table spread, the decorations, and the front of the gallery.

The warm mix of festive voices and blurred party lights made Sam giddy with anticipation for the dinner. She stepped toward the party, her heels clicking under her. It felt as if she were walking into a dream. She halted under the party lights when she realized everyone was watching her. She swallowed, unsure what to do next. She looked over to Otto. He had already spotted her and raised his champagne flute toward her.

“To Samantha,” he said.

“Samantha,” everyone replied in unison. The party started.

Otto stepped toward her, and handed her a glass of champagne. They clinked glasses and each took sips from their flutes. The bubbles matched Sam’s excitement.

“There’s another bottle in the fridge for later,” he said before kissing her soundly on the mouth.

Sam let it all sink in: the kiss, the champagne, the lights, her friends and family. It was perfect, and she was going to enjoy it. She walked to the long dinning table and pulled out a chair, signaling everyone to join her for the meal.