The Fate of the Muse - By Derrolyn Anderson Page 0,28
fire escape, filling the dumpsters with garbage and soundproofing debris. Pretty soon the place started to look like a real artist’s loft, all exposed brick and high ceilings. We swept and scrubbed every square inch of floor, exposing handsome rough-hewn pine planks. The space really brightened up once the windows were washed clean, and Bill had the missing panes replaced so there’d be no more avian intruders.
I bought a small refrigerator that I stocked with fruit and snacks to keep us going, and added a table with a microwave and coffee maker. Shayla helped me pick out a sound system, shaking her head in disbelief at my ignorance of the latest pop music. The place started to feel comfortable and familiar, and I imagined what it would be like to stay overnight. My father would probably hate it… I wondered what Ethan would think.
The worst part of the clean-up was definitely the bathroom, but with some heavy duty rubber gloves and lots of bleach, even that was turning out to be a diamond in the rough. I hung an antique gilded mirror above the sink, and stocked a shelf with scented soaps and hand lotions. The quaint clawfoot tub actually looked inviting, emptied of all the beer bottles and scrubbed squeaky clean.
Colorful Kilim rugs I’d found at an antique shop brightened up the floor, and I bought some tables and lamps from local thrift stores. I splurged on a giant sectional couch that was big enough to spread out on, upholstered in a velvety grey fabric. Shayla and I watched in horror as one of the deliverymen moving it inside nearly fell off the narrow stairs, miraculously recovering his balance at the last possible second.
“That guy totally almost bought it!” said Shayla, testing out the plush furniture with her feet up on an ottoman. “I told ya’ that bird was bad luck!”
“Oh come on!” I laughed at her superstition.
We kicked back on the comfortable cushions, talking about what we would do in Paris. Shayla was eager to go, dreamily speculating about how much fun we would have shopping and sightseeing with Evie.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “It should be interesting.”
Shayla looked at me out of the corner of her eye, “We’ll keep you too busy to miss Ethan.”
I thought about Amber and Ethan talking about me, maybe even hanging around together when I was out of town. An image of him smiling at her flashed into my mind.
“Guess who’s back in town?” I said morosely, telling Shayla about meeting Amber and her friend. It felt good to let it out, and I complained bitterly about having to see her at college in the fall. I described the scene at the farmer’s market to her and her eyes narrowed.
“That bitch! I’ll kick her ass for you if you want!” she fumed.
“Shayla!” I was shocked, for violence was the last thing I wanted to think about where Amber was concerned. Now it seemed as though I could inspire it in Shayla too… I needed to be extra careful where my feelings were concerned.
When Shayla saw the shock on my face she looked contrite, “Sorry, I just hate her,” she said.
“Don’t say that!” I moaned. I felt like I was being tempted.
“Everybody hated her! She always thought she was so great just because her dad had money. She tried to get Ethan to give up surfing and go out for football cuz her dad was into it… She used to lead him around like a puppy…” her voice trailed off when her eyes met mine.
“Wow,” I choked out, having a hard time imagining it.
I was quiet for a few seconds, “How serious were they?” I looked at her searchingly.
“I dunno,” she seemed nervous, and I knew that I probably shouldn’t ask. Shayla shifted around uncomfortably, clearly afraid the truth was going to hurt my feelings. I changed the subject, asking her what her mother thought about her going to France.
“She’s like, real happy for me,” she smiled with relief, “She wants me to do all the stuff she never had a chance to do.” She looked at me in wonder, “I never even been on a airplane!”
“You’ll be on lots of airplanes when you’re a supermodel,” I said.
She rolled her eyes at me, “Very funny. I haven’t even done my first fashion show yet!”
I nodded, feeling better already, “There’s a first time for everything.”
“That’s what she said!” Shayla cried, dissolving in a fit of laughter