The Green Lace Corset, стр. 9
“I haven’t seen him for a while, either.”
“Why ever not?” She grabbed a pile of magazines and tossed them in the middle of the tables.
“Let’s just say it’s complicated.”
“I’m sure it is.”
Fortunately, Perky Penelope, Anne’s favorite student, bounded in the door. She knew she shouldn’t have a favorite, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Hi, Penny. I missed you.” Anne opened her arms wide.
“Oh. Are you back?” Penny barely glanced at her as she ran into Karl’s arms and gazed up at him. “Mr. Karl is so cool.”
Anne felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach by a horse. Penny used to say Anne was cool too.
Then the Tromble twins bounded in. Each grabbed one of Penny’s elbows and lifted her off the ground. She shrieked.
“Find a penny, pick it up. All day long, we’ll have good luck,” they said simultaneously, with loud laughs.
“Boys, stop!” Karl stood between them. “Sit down.”
“Sorry, Mr. Karl.” They made their way to their seats, while Penny found a chair as far away from them as possible.
Anne could never tell the twins apart.
“Mr. Karl is so cool,” one of them said.
“So I’ve heard.” She tried not to feel jealous.
One of the boys pointed at a tinfoil sculpture. “There’s the piece I made.”
“And there’s mine.” His twin aimed his finger at another and looked at the paper on the table. “Not collage again!”
“I thought you liked collage.” Anne felt her face redden in front of Karl.
“I’d rather do sculpture.”
Karl looked at Anne and shrugged.
Before long, ten more students darted into the room, all screeching and running around the tables.
“Sit down!” Karl hollered.
The students rushed to find seats.
“Sorry, Mr. Karl.” Rhonda popped a wad of gum.
“Would you like me to stay and help out?” he asked Anne.
“No, thanks.”
“I’ve gotta turn in my residency application now anyway.”
He was applying for the residency too. How could he be infringing on her territory like this?
“Want to have coffee after you get off?”
“I have plans.” She passed out some scissors.
He whispered in her ear, “Let’s take up where we left off.”
She thought she might gag.
“See you kids later,” Karl called, and started out the door.
She wanted to throw the scissors at his back.
7
The next morning, Anne woke up with a yawn. The night before, she’d tossed and turned, trying to expel the bad memories of Karl from her mind, along with the fact that he was now applying for the residency. She couldn’t let him get to her.
She googled him. He didn’t even have a website, or any art photos posted on Facebook or Instagram that she could find. He wouldn’t be any competition for the residency. On the other hand, she had no trouble locating plenty of pictures of him posing next to women wearing lots of makeup and low-cut tops. What a pants man!
She loved Sundays without anything scheduled. She had the whole day to do her art, and she didn’t want to waste it. So many ideas from her trip were buzzing in her head, she didn’t know where to start.
The apartment still dark from the fog outside, she yawned, tempted to go back to sleep. Instead, she said, “Alexa, play disco music.” That always got her going.
“Stayin’ Alive” came on, and in her sweats and old T-shirt, she flipped on the lights, boogied to the sink, scrubbed the hubcap as best she could, and set it on a dish towel to dry, then made coffee.
She decided to start with her lesson sample. She covered the kitchenette table with newspaper, grabbed a paper plate, and placed on it the horseshoe she’d brought back from her trip. She poured the baggie filled with small found objects onto a silver tray. She selected possible focal-point options; a plastic pony, a rose pendant, and a red heart called to her. She placed each, one at a time, in the middle of the horseshoe. The heart looked best, and she glued it down.
When she had bought it at the flea market, the man had said, “Anyone who owns one will have good luck. Be sure the arch is at the bottom, or the luck will pour out.”
Uh-oh. She’d glued the heart on the wrong way. She quickly pulled it off, reset it, and flipped the horseshoe around. She squeezed out more glue; placed three blue marbles, white buttons, and other objects from her grab bag on it; and sprinkled seed beads over the entire surface, then set the whole thing aside to dry. She couldn’t wait to see how it turned out.
She began to mix more paint to add to her sky canvas when her phone chimed. She should have put it on silent mode. She hated to be interrupted when doing her art. Staying in the zone took practice.
Sergio again: Call me.
She finished mixing the paint and quickly washed it over the canvas. She wanted to call him later, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on her art because she’d keep thinking about talking to him. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth, put up her messy hair in a scrunchie, and added lipstick.
She commanded Alexa to turn off the music and FaceTimed Sergio. She held her phone tight.
“Amore mio.”
She loved it when he spoke Italian to her. Just hearing his voice made her heart chakra feel like it might explode. She adjusted her phone so she could see his whole, handsome face: deep-set brown eyes; curly, dark hair bouncing on his shoulders; bright smile.
“How are you?” she asked, trying to keep her voice even.
“I miss you,” he said.
A siren screamed outside, and she paused. “I miss you too.”
“Looked like you had a good trip.”
“Yes. Incredible. What have you been up to?” She was tempted to ask if he was seeing anyone, but she didn’t really want to know. “How’s work going?”
“There’s no business like shoe business,” he sang.
“Hardy-har-har.”
“How’s the museum?”
“My Saturday kids are adorable, even though they’re sometimes a little rambunctious. A lot of my adults are more