Page 26 of The Lies I Told
Jo-Jo sighed. “It was a shitty time. No one came out a winner.”
Especially Clare.
I shifted my focus back to this year. “You were at my art show, right?”
“Yes.”
“Was it crowded?”
“There were about a dozen people there,” Jo-Jo said. “It was a respectable showing.”
I sipped the soda. “I sold one picture.” I didn’t remember the sale, but I’d seen my note written in the margins of my datebook:“FIRST SALE. $400.”“Did I sell it the night of my show?”
“I don’t think so.”
“According to my calendar, it was a cash sale.” There’d been four one-hundred-dollar bills in my purse after the accident.
“That almost never happens anymore.”
“I know.”
“Did you write down a name?”
I walked to my desk by the window and flipped back to January. The worn bills were still clipped inside the book’s back cover. Gently, I ran my fingers over them. “No name. Just the sale. You’d think I’d want to remember the name.”
“The sale mattered more. Validation, right?”
“I guess you’re right. Officially an artist.”
“Why does it matter?” Jo-Jo asked.
“Because it happened during those lost days.”
“The Black Hole.” Jo-Jo had picked up my pet name for my memory blip.
The details had slipped behind a thick veil and were waiting for me to push back the fabric. Again, why it mattered I couldn’t articulate.
“You sound tired,” Jo-Jo said.
“I am. Long day.”
“Take a hot bath. Go to bed.”
“It’s five p.m.”
“What’s your point?” she said lightly. “It’s cold, dark, and perfect sleeping weather. You know me—never met a nap or bedtime I couldn’t resist.”
I chuckled, wishing I could close my eyes and shut my brain off. After the accident, the doctors had given me sedatives. They’d swornthey wouldn’t be addictive, but they also didn’t know me and how quickly I could latch on to something. Letting go of all substances had been damn near impossible last year.
“Thanks.”
“The reason I really called was to tell you I had fun at your birthday party. It was terrific. At least until I made my smart-ass comment about the hats.”
“It wouldn’t be a party if you ...”
Jo-Jo chuckled. “I know. Story of my life. Insert foot in mouth. You really are a talented photographer. And it takes someone willing to get lost to make something out of nothing.”
“Thanks.”
