Perfectly Too Far

Perfectly
Too Far

Copyright 2013
Regina Button

This is a work of
fiction. Names, places, characters, or events are either the product
of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to persons, alive or dead, is completely coincidental.
All characters are age 18 or older.

Perfectly Too Far
was formerly published under the title
Always Tied Up
.

It's been revamped,
updated, and expanded upon to create the story it is today.

****

Judith
placed her hand gingerly on her mailbox, closing her eyes as if to
pray. Her forehead wrinkled with hard grooves, thoughts running with
one simple phrase:

Acceptance
letter, acceptance letter.

Inhaling
slowly, bracing herself as if preparing to be punched, she turned her
key in the slot. As soon as she cracked the door, envelopes spilled
out and across the damp ground. Groaning, she slumped her shoulders,
hurrying to gather up the wet paper. It had been one of the few rainy
days the young woman had ever experienced in the
supposedly
sunny realm of Los Angeles.

Locking
the mailbox, she turned on her heel. Slipping eagerly into the
dryness of her studio apartment, she ignored how the screen door hung
limp on its hinges. The thing had been broken since she'd moved in.
Every
time I call the landlord, they assure me they'll fix it soon. Yup.
Soon. Maybe if I paid him on time, he'd be quicker to care
.

It
was a harsh thing to admit to herself.

Huffing,
she opened her arms and let the mail drift onto her coffee table.
Dropping down in front of it, she dug through the mushy paper until
she finally found what she'd been waiting for. With trembling hands,
Judith held the envelope before her eyes.

This
is it, this has to be my acceptance into Sun Arts College!

Swallowing
the lump that wouldn't go away, she tore the paper open. There, still
soggy from the rain, she found the letter. Peeling it apart, she
scanned the printed text rapidly. Finally, at the bottom, she found
her answer.

It
wasn't the one she'd been hoping for.

Not
admitted. They denied me. Why?

Scowling,
Judith crumbled up the rejection letter. In one great swing, it
bounced off of a wall, landing in the corner. Jumping to her feet
with a defeated groan, she began pacing the room. It wasn't hard, due
to the small size. Eventually, she slumped onto the one other piece
of furniture she owned.

The
mattress sat on the bare floor, covered in blankets and used quite
often as a couch. Her fingers worked into her long strands of red
hair, absently tying them into knots.

I
need a plan. I need something, anything, to finally go my way.

The
sharp ring of her phone cut through the air, startling her so much
she yanked her hair too hard. Flinching, Judith dug into the pocket
of her jacket, her heart fluttering a moment as she imagined that
this was, perhaps, a sign. Had the cruel world finally called to give
her a break?

The
number on the screen was one she recognized, and it made her pout.
Clicking the button, she brushed the phone to her ear. “Hey,
Mom.”

“
You
sound so cheerful,” the sarcastic voice on the other end said.

Judith
had to crack a smile. It was true, she knew she sounded flat,
defeated. Shifting on the bed, she stretched out on her stomach and
stared blankly at her coffee table. “Sorry, it's just the rain.
I hate it, you know?” It wasn't
entirely
a lie.

“
Well,
if you say so. How's everything, have you picked applied to college
yet? Gotten into one? Sold any art?”

“
Hah,
so many questions.”

Her
mom laughed, Judith imagined her rolling her eyes. “Sweetie,
it's all really the same question.”

“
I
know,” she sighed, her attention shifting from the table, to
the envelopes that had drifted to the floor near her. “I know.
And
you
probably know the answer already.” Blinking, she noticed a
single square of tan among the sea of opal. Reaching out, her fingers
tugged the package closer, balancing her cell between ear and
shoulder.

On
the phone, she was distantly aware of her mother talking at her, but
she had stopped listening. There, in her hands, was the most
unassuming letter. Carefully, she tore it, tugging the card free,
opening it in a hurry.

“
Judith,”
her mom snapped. “Hello? Are you there? I asked you a
question.”

Sitting
up in a hurry, the young red-head placed the card in her lap,
grabbing the phone in a trembling hand. “Sorry, what was the
question?”

“
I
said, if things don't get better, you know you can always come home.
If you don't get into a college soon, you'll have to, really. I can't
afford to keep you out there in LA if there's no reason for you to be
there.”

With
a smile that was slow, yet unending once it started, Judith lifted
the letter before her eyes. The script was soft, curled. It
proclaimed exactly what the young artist needed just then.

We'd
like to extend you an offer to display your work in our gallery.

“
Actually,
Mom, I think things may finally be looking up.”

****

Staring
at the wide glass front window, Judith tried to make herself stop
smiling. Her face was starting to hurt, but she was simply too
excited. Here it was, her first real gallery, and it was fantastic.

Well,
if I'm honest, the location isn't great and I'm pretty sure the
building next to this is full of junkies.

Still,
she didn't care, nothing could smother her joy. Tugging the small
wagon behind her, she pushed through the door. Inside, it was wide; a
single large room with rafters above. It reminded her of a warehouse,
smelled like sawdust and paint thinner.

Judith
inhaled slowly, enjoying the scent. It reminded her of work. Staring
around, noticing the dark red walls and the lights hanging down, she
didn't spot the can of brushes until she tripped over it.

“
Augh!”
she shouted, stumbling onto her rear, the wagon of canvases tipping
over.

“
Are
you alright?” The voice was female, high pitched like a bird.
Judith flinched, her cheeks burning pink. The only real damage had
been to her pride. Glancing up at the speaker, she saw a woman who
reminded her of a willow tree, in both height and hair.

“
I'm
fine, yeah,” she forced a laugh. Standing, Judith dusted off
her pants, flashed an embarrassed smile. “Sorry about that, I
didn't notice the can there.”

Brown
eyes, friendly and warm, looked Judith up and down. “It's fine,
that was quite an entrance!” She extended a long arm, spindly
fingers stretching. “I'm Lorraine, you must be...?”

“
Judith,
Judith Flight,” she replied, shaking Lorraine's hand. She
noticed how cold it was.

“
Oh,
yes!” Laughing, Lorraine suddenly wrapped her in a hug, a
gesture much too friendly for a first meeting. Before Judith could
even ask what was going on, the woman gripped her shoulders. Holding
her at a distance, she studied the red-head's confused face. “You're
so
young
,
I was sure you'd be ancient. Your paintings have such an old soul in
them! What are you, a college kid?”

“
Uh,
well, attempting college kid,” Judith said with chagrin.
“Haven't gotten in where I want yet—wait, you've seen my
work?”

“
Of
course! I saw it at the craft festival on Vine. You weren't there, so
I just grabbed one of your cards.”

Judith
flushed, recalling how she had gotten lost and been late that day.
One of the event agents had to guard her booth for several hours. It
hit her, then, who Lorraine had to be. “Wait. You're the one
running this place?”

“
Running
is a
strong
word,” the woman winked, bending down to right the wagon,
loading the canvases back inside. Judith crouched to help as Lorraine
went on. “I do my best, don't get me wrong, but it's, you
know,” she waved her arm around her head. “LA, this place
makes running anything difficult.”

“
Oh,”
Judith said, feeling dejected and a bit confused.
I
guess I shouldn't have assumed this was going to be some high end
experience, my stuff isn't exactly well known.
Dropping
the last canvas into the wagon, she straightened up.

Lorraine
emulated her, raising an eyebrow. Her peach lips crinkled up at one
side. “I'm bad at this, that wasn't meant to make you feel
depressed or anything. We run the gallery with different artists once
a month, so there's plenty of time for you to make some sales. Don't
worry about that part.”

Nodding,
Judith tugged at the end of her red braid, once more studying the
space. “Who else will be setting up their art here?”

“
What
do you mean?” Lorraine grabbed her hips, cocking them to the
side dramatically. “Didn't you realize by now?”

Judith
shook her head slowly, anticipation crawling up her spine.