Undertow (14 page)

“Thanks.”

“That situation will work out however it’s meant to be.” She went back to combing my hair with her fingers. “So you’re leaving for art school. I remember when you came running in this house saying you wanted to be a famous artist. You were so little, I just laughed.”

I sat up to face her then. “You laughed and then went out and bought me an easel and a palette and a canvass and all the art supplies you could find.”

“Well,” she looked down, “You’ve always brought me such joy. I can’t wait to see what you do.”

“Thank you, Miss Stella. Thank you so much for everything.”

She wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly. “Now don’t let some young man come along and distract you. You go straight through art school and worry about boys later.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

We giggled, and I turned out the light. In a few days, I’d be on my way.

July 20, 19--

It’s almost been a month now, and I love Savannah!

The college is spread out over six blocks in the northern part of the city right in the middle of the historic district. It’s not far from Forsythe Park and that famous fountain, and I can walk down Drayton Street and be there in less than ten minutes. I plan to set up an easel one day and do some different views of it.

Forsythe Park is a busy place. It’s a mile long, and there are always people jogging around it and events in the grassy center. I came to Savannah early so I could move in and have time to explore before classes started.

Landing a scholarship that included room and board was a miracle, and I was thrilled my only worries would be figuring out gas and entertainment expenses. My college apartment is right on Jones Lane, and I’ve spent the first few weeks wandering around and getting to know the city.

Savannah’s a big tourist town, but I’m used to that. The streets around campus are filled with little shops that carry student art, and I visited several and met the owners. Hopefully I can get some of my paintings in a few of them.

I’m also just a few blocks from where the ghost tours start. I’ve never tried my hand at folk art or spiritual stuff, but maybe I’ll do a few and see how they sell. Everyone is so nice and encouraging here. I can’t wait for classes to start.

My roommate hasn’t arrived yet. I decided to let the school just assign me a roommate, and now I’m hoping that wasn’t a mistake. Some art students are very quirky and competitive, but I’m trying to stay optimistic. At least we’re both artists. That’ll give us something in common.

I drove to Tybee Island today to check out the beach and my options for meditation. It’s just a short ways down Highway 80 to the water, and I want to find the perfect spot to close my eyes, relax and let the creativity flow.

The shoreline here is different than in South County. Back home we have short, sandy-white beaches met by turquoise blue waters. Savannah has rocky, high-tide areas where the water comes in and then goes out for miles of wet, brown sand. It’s beautiful in a strange, desert-island kind of way. It also fills the bill on my desire to add new sights and landscapes to my collection of mental pictures.

I sit down on a large rock and look out at the flat expanse of sand. The ocean’s out there even if I can’t see it, and it’s just waiting to charge back in when the tide changes.

Butterflies migrate through here in the fall, and I heard there’s a pirate festival, complete with parades and floats. All of this is perfect for the experiences I want to have. I miss my best friend, and I still worry about her sometimes. But I’m so happy here.

This is where my life begins.

Sept. 1, 19--

Classes have started, and I am loving SCAD! I’m only taking one painting class. The rest of my time I wanted to focus on things I’ve never tried, either because I never had the equipment or because I didn’t have anyone to teach me.

That’s the greatest thing about being here. The sculpture studio has all the tools I need to chisel and shape, my pottery class is equipped with wheels and kilns, and there’s even a glass-blowing studio and a metal-arts building. I could learn to weld if I wanted. That would be a neat trick to show the boys.

A few weeks ago Meg called to say she’s happily settled in their new home. It was her grandmother’s little cottage between Fairview and Springdale, and if I know Meg, it’s decked out with all the latest interiors and looks like a tiny version of her future mansion.

She’s nervous about telling her parents about the baby, but I tried to assure her that they’re going to be thrilled. Meg gets her baby-love honest. Gigi is the most baby-obsessed person I’ve ever met next to her daughter. The way they go on, you would think those tiny humans were the greatest thing since the invention of the spa.

We were both so excited to finally chat again.

“What’s happening?” Meg cried. “How’s Savannah? I’ve never gone more than a day without talking to you.”

“I know! It’s totally weird. Have you changed? Is your hair still blonde?”

“Good god, yes,” she laughed. “I’d look like a rat if I wasn’t a blonde.”

“You would not.”

“Stop changing the subject. Have you decided to come back yet?”

“No way, I love it here!” I lay back on my twin bed. “Everything is so creative. There are whole shops devoted to selling art, and the historic buildings and fountains are just begging me to paint them. I went down to Tybee Island, and it’s totally different from our beaches at home. I can’t wait to set up an easel down there.”

She sighed in my ear. “I wish I could visit you.”

“You should!” I jumped up inspired. “There’s time before the baby comes.”

“I don’t know. I would, but the thought of a seven-hour drive right now makes me feel exhausted.”

“I can believe that.” My shoulders dropped. “So how are you? Happy? Is Bill being sweet to you?”

“Billy is a doll, and our honeymoon was for the record books.”

A grin crossed my lips. “Did you do what you were planning?”

“Mm-hm. You should’ve seen the look on his face.”

“Sounds X-rated,” I laughed. “I hope you didn’t scare the baby.”

“Never heard a peep out of the little guy. Of course, he probably enjoyed all the rocking.”

We both laughed then, and I was glad to hear her sounding so happily married. It was difficult for me to let Meg go. She was my first friend from the day she came bouncing up to me at the Magnolia School like it was written in the stars that we would be inseparable. We were like sisters, and I wanted her dreams to come true, too.

But now that it seemed she’d gotten her wish, I was safe to let her go and focus on my own dreams.

Oct. 15, 19--

The most exciting thing I’m trying this semester is Raku pottery. It’s like combining clay pottery with glass-blowing, and the finished pieces are so beautiful. They have a shimmering metal exterior. But it’s tricky to master. First, you’re working with extremely high heat, and the pieces can shatter so easily. I haven’t pulled one out of the fire whole yet. But I love it!

Evan Gray is in my pottery class. He’s from Montgomery, and he’s very attentive. Says we have a home-state connection. Evan wants to be an illustrator, and he keeps asking me to have lunch with him. I like Evan, but I’m not really interested in getting sidetracked by romance right off the bat. And while he’s sweet, he’s not exactly my type. For one thing, he looks like he could still be in high school, all skinny and baby-faced. I came to college to have new experiences, not to spend all my time with the same kind of boys I left at Fairview High School.

Despite all my new artistic endeavors, my favorite class remains painting. I can’t get away from the satisfaction of taking a blank canvass and coaxing it to life with my brush. I have to admit, I have an enormous crush on my professor, Nick Parker. I know, no dating the professors, but he looks so young, and he’s intensely handsome. Tall, with longish dark hair and piercing green eyes.

When he comes around to critique my work, he always places his hand on my lower back. It’s very exciting. I look down so my hair falls to hide my face. I hope he can’t tell I’m blushing.

Oh, and I’ve changed my name. Well, not really, but once we got going in classes, all the professors kept calling me Alexandra. That would just never do, so Evan shortened it to Alex, and it stuck. I like it! Alex. It sounds very smart and confident. Alex. Meg will never go for it, and imagining her frown makes me laugh.

Suzanne Bailey wound up being my roommate, and she is not quirky or competitive. She’s great. Suzanne’s interested in graphic design, and she’s focusing on computer-generated art and advertising. It’s a smart way to go if you really want to make money in art. I mean, unless you’re Andy Warhol or George Rodrigue. I expect she’ll end up working for some big firm in New York or California, and don’t think she doesn’t expect the same thing! She and I are getting to be great friends. She’s originally from Charlotte, and I told her I think North Carolina sounds like the most beautiful place. I’ve never been to the mountains. Miss Stella didn’t take us on vacations.

I don’t have any classes with Suzanne, but we try to go out and hit the Buccaneer pub, the local college hangout, at least once a week and catch up on what’s happening in our lives. By the middle of the first semester we were Thursday night regulars. It was always Suzanne and me, but often we’d be joined by whoever she was dating at the time, other art school friends. Sometimes Evan would join us. We’d meet up in one of the wood-paneled booths, someone would sneak a fake-ID pitcher, and we’d rehash the week and update each other on what was in store for the weekend.

“I’m completely hopeless at Raku pottery!” I wailed that particular Thursday.

“Impossible,” Suzanne said, pouring drinks for everyone.

“No, she’s really hopeless,” Evan laughed.

“That’s just mean,” I pouted, causing him to laugh more.

“What’s the problem? You’re so good at everything else,” Suzanne said.

“I don’t know! It’s like I’ve got a mental block or something. I can get the pieces all the way to the end, and then when I have to apply the metal finish, they always shatter. Evan! How come it never happens to you?”

He winked and pushed his light-brown hair back. “Because I’m an artistic genius.”

“Seriously,” I frowned. “I’ve never seen you break a piece. Not once.”

“I took Raku in high school. There was a studio near my house, and the owner was a friend of my mom’s.”

“See? That’s totally not fair!” I wailed. “What am I going to do? I really love the class, but I’m going to fail.”

“You’re not going to fail,” Suzanne said. “Half of the grade is effort. I mean, you can’t help it if you’re a bull in the china class.”

“Some friend,” I said, taking a sip of the draft beer Evan had just poured us.

“So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Evan said to me.

He’d been asking me out for weeks, but I’d managed to avoid him. I was hoping to stay on the market in case Mr. Parker made a move. He’d been giving me a lot of extra attention in class lately, and maybe I was just setting myself up for disappointment. But a girl could dream.

“Oh, well,” I tried to think fast. “I’ve made a study date with a girl in my painting class. We’re supposed to be working on this project…”

“Uh huh. I get it. Bug off, Evan?” He was teasing, but I caught the edge in his voice.

“I’m sorry. Maybe we can do lunch after the break?”

“Maybe.” He turned back to his beer.

We went on visiting and catching up on the week. Suzanne was learning to use some new design software, and her current project was to create a marketing campaign for a line of men’s deodorant. We had fun coming up with different catch phrases until it was time to call it a night. Evan walked us back to our apartment and said good-night.

“You’re going to put him off if you keep saying no,” Suzanne said as we walked up the stairs.

“I know, but I don’t want to date Evan right now.” I dug around in my small bag for our key.

“So just go out with him once,” she said, leaning against the wall. “Get him off your back.”

“It won’t be like that. He’s asked too many times.” I found the key and fumbled with the lock.

“Well, I haven’t noticed you checking anyone else out. What’s the deal? Who are you waiting for?”

“Nobody,” I said, but I had to press my lips together to keep from smiling.

“Really?” Suzanne leaned in close, eyes narrowed. “Then what’s that all about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

“The smile?”

“I’m not smiling.” I got the door unlocked and we both pushed into the living room.

“And blushing!” she cried. “Who is it?”

“Shut up! I am not blushing. It’s nobody.” I threw my keys on the counter and hung my coat on a peg.

“You can be cagey if you want, but we live together. I’m going to find out.”

“Then you’ll find out when there’s something to know.”

Suzanne shook her head and went to her room. I was already imagining what I would wear tomorrow to painting class.