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Authors: Melissa Jane
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statement. I honestly didn’t know what planet she lived on. And while I could credit her for not listening to rumor, she really did need to be more observant.
“Lunch before life drawing?” she asked, eyeing off the bar.
“Yes, save me a seat. I’m just running into the supply shop.”
Marge left and I wandered the lanes of the art supplies. Picking a few items, I loaded my basket and checked out. Tomorrow, I would make the delivery and hope Mimi could put the items to good use. I was certain she had read those books to death and could use some form of different entertainment.
***
“Well…this is anti-climactic,” Marge stood on the threshold of the drawing-room whispering her disapproval of the night’s model. Granted…he was no Leo. With protruding bones and absolutely no muscle structure it was clear our focus was on skeletal forms.
The rest of the women in the room were back to their usual unenthused selves. The apparent lack of stimulus having depleting everyone’s motivation.
Professor Lindsay sauntered over reeking of cigarettes and wine. It occurred to me that the university was full of alcoholics.
“Ms. Marks. Have you made your decision yet?” she asked, folding her skinny arms across her chest.
“Ah, no I haven’t. I’m sorry.”
She looked at me like I was the biggest waste of air. “I cannot fathom why you have not responded. There are plenty of others who would love to be in your position. The least you could do is demonstrate some enthusiasm.”
Although it was obvious there was no love lost between us, I plastered on my most sincere smile and offered my most believable reassurance. “I understand. And believe me, I am beyond honoured to have been offered this position. I just didn’t expect it to have actually become reality, so I have a few things to sort out before I offer my final decision.”
“Your mother would expect better.”
That stung. That hurt like a jagged knife through the heart.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Marge was confused by the last comment.
With a final indignant shake of the head, Professor Lindsay left me to reel from her careless words. I felt the familiar tightness in my throat and eyes burned with tears. Heat flooded my cheeks and as I turned to Marge, she took my hand and squeezed it. She knew about my mom. Spending four years together studying in varying subjects had resulted in some life sharing.
Now, she could see my pain. “I’m sorry, Josie. That was an awful thing for her to say. But I’m confused. How does she know your mom?”
Swiping a tear, I swallowed the lump to allow me to talk. “Professor Lindsay or Katherine and mother were art students together also. Back when they were younger they traveled Australia to study the landscape. She saw my surname when I enrolled and saw me as a mirror image of her.”
They had been close friends. Years of traveling had resulted in a strong bond being formed. But they were young and impressionable. While my mom focused on the beauty of nature and continued her journey to discover unseen landscapes, Katherine was greatly influenced by a new set of friends who at the tale-end of feminism, aimed to reignite the movement. Soon, their common interest in art clashed. Dad had told me this story when he inquired into my lectures. I had come home angry and downtrodden when Professor Lindsay dismissed my art as being outdated and stale. When he revealed who she really was, I learned to treat her continual stabs with a grain of salt.
But she was right. I did have to make a decision and a huge part of me wished it wasn’t mine to make.
CHAPTER 13
“Why aren’t you ready?” Standing in Nicole’s doorway, I looked horrified at the pajamas she was wearing.
“I’m not going,” she mumbled as if it were a non-issue.
“To hell you aren’t! This was your idea if I remember correctly.”
She pursed her lips together and made a squeaky noise in contemplation. “Yeah, I
“Lunch before life drawing?” she asked, eyeing off the bar.
“Yes, save me a seat. I’m just running into the supply shop.”
Marge left and I wandered the lanes of the art supplies. Picking a few items, I loaded my basket and checked out. Tomorrow, I would make the delivery and hope Mimi could put the items to good use. I was certain she had read those books to death and could use some form of different entertainment.
***
“Well…this is anti-climactic,” Marge stood on the threshold of the drawing-room whispering her disapproval of the night’s model. Granted…he was no Leo. With protruding bones and absolutely no muscle structure it was clear our focus was on skeletal forms.
The rest of the women in the room were back to their usual unenthused selves. The apparent lack of stimulus having depleting everyone’s motivation.
Professor Lindsay sauntered over reeking of cigarettes and wine. It occurred to me that the university was full of alcoholics.
“Ms. Marks. Have you made your decision yet?” she asked, folding her skinny arms across her chest.
“Ah, no I haven’t. I’m sorry.”
She looked at me like I was the biggest waste of air. “I cannot fathom why you have not responded. There are plenty of others who would love to be in your position. The least you could do is demonstrate some enthusiasm.”
Although it was obvious there was no love lost between us, I plastered on my most sincere smile and offered my most believable reassurance. “I understand. And believe me, I am beyond honoured to have been offered this position. I just didn’t expect it to have actually become reality, so I have a few things to sort out before I offer my final decision.”
“Your mother would expect better.”
That stung. That hurt like a jagged knife through the heart.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Marge was confused by the last comment.
With a final indignant shake of the head, Professor Lindsay left me to reel from her careless words. I felt the familiar tightness in my throat and eyes burned with tears. Heat flooded my cheeks and as I turned to Marge, she took my hand and squeezed it. She knew about my mom. Spending four years together studying in varying subjects had resulted in some life sharing.
Now, she could see my pain. “I’m sorry, Josie. That was an awful thing for her to say. But I’m confused. How does she know your mom?”
Swiping a tear, I swallowed the lump to allow me to talk. “Professor Lindsay or Katherine and mother were art students together also. Back when they were younger they traveled Australia to study the landscape. She saw my surname when I enrolled and saw me as a mirror image of her.”
They had been close friends. Years of traveling had resulted in a strong bond being formed. But they were young and impressionable. While my mom focused on the beauty of nature and continued her journey to discover unseen landscapes, Katherine was greatly influenced by a new set of friends who at the tale-end of feminism, aimed to reignite the movement. Soon, their common interest in art clashed. Dad had told me this story when he inquired into my lectures. I had come home angry and downtrodden when Professor Lindsay dismissed my art as being outdated and stale. When he revealed who she really was, I learned to treat her continual stabs with a grain of salt.
But she was right. I did have to make a decision and a huge part of me wished it wasn’t mine to make.
CHAPTER 13
“Why aren’t you ready?” Standing in Nicole’s doorway, I looked horrified at the pajamas she was wearing.
“I’m not going,” she mumbled as if it were a non-issue.
“To hell you aren’t! This was your idea if I remember correctly.”
She pursed her lips together and made a squeaky noise in contemplation. “Yeah, I
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