The gallery (2013)

chapter 9

Nate and Keisha greeted them from a distance, as they made their way to the bar. Not waiting for drink orders, the owner got to work and handed them each their favorite.

Jenna thanked him for the wine spritzer. “Shouldn’t you be taking the night off, since it’s your birthday?”

“Well you have my favorite bartender rather occupied at the moment, it seems.” He winked at Trevor. “But how else should I spend my birthday rather than doing what I love doing?”

She raised her glass to him.

They chatted with their hosts and occasionally got swallowed in the crowd, together or separately. It didn’t bother her any more to get separated from him now and then. She knew most of the regulars and they knew better than to bother her. There were a few women she enjoyed talking to when she saw them, though she didn’t imagine she would seek out their company outside the bar. Jenna was funny that way, she supposed. She liked to keep her companionships grouped into different situations. She didn’t want to mingle with her boss outside her job, either, although she liked her company. When she had still been in school, she socialized with school mates within the boundaries of school functions, but not otherwise. She didn’t really know why. It just seemed more comfortable that way.

They danced, she and Trevor, occasionally, when they heard a song they both liked. The longer they went into the evening, the more time they spent together, refusing to be separated. Eventually, they started blocking others out, just chatting alone, hanging on each other.

Jenna kissed his neck, dancing against him. Raising her head from his shoulder, she spoke into his ear. “About ready to go home?”

He tightened his fingers against her lower back, nodding his head. “Yeah, I don’t wanna get too tired.” He found her lips, there, in front of all of his friends. She loved that he didn’t care, and that she didn’t, either.

“Let’s go find Nate and tell him we’re leaving.”

He wasn’t hard to find, with the loud, friendly voice hosting a rousing conversation in the back room, the “gallery” the bar was named after.

“Ah, and our featured artist, as we speak! Thought you two had slipped away from us to find your nest.”

Trevor grinned. “Not yet, but we’re about to go do that.”

“But the night is young. Stay a while and explain your artwork here to these young women who have been talking about it.”

“Now, Nate, you know an artist never explains his work. It just is.”

“And that is what I told them. However, they did not want to hear it from me. Here, Ladies, is the yet-to-be-internationally-famous Trevor Dade, or as we know him, D-day.”

Trevor brushed off the questions about the nickname. “Not a story that needs to be told in front of my girlfriend, thank you.”

Jenna grinned. She knew the story. He was said to have been a disaster waiting to happen for the girls who had dared to go out with him. But it was years ago, when he was younger and had just started working at the bar. When he still meant that he wanted no attachments.

Keisha pressed against her husband. “And you need to stop calling him that, since it’s no longer appropriate, Mr. Nathaniel.” She looked at Jenna. “And just how long are you going to make that poor boy wait before you let him call you his wife?”

Jenna pulled her eyes away. She hadn’t expected this, not here. Neither had Trevor, apparently, since he didn’t comment, either.

“Ah, Keisha, let the girl be. The heart knows when the time is right.”

She looked back up at Nate, gratefully. He understood. Trevor still said nothing, but his face was too transparent. So much for their planned return to the nest.

Nate joked him out of it, somewhat, returning the conversation to the art adorning the walls of the back room, to the fact that Jenna was also an artist, but shy about it. About the drawing she had done of - - , describing the swirling smoke of the cigar. They had lost – not long afterwards, and Jenna had given Nate the drawing in remembrance. It also hung on the wall, to her embarrassment at the moment. But it wasn’t bad, she even had to admit to herself. She’d never painted it, though.

They stayed a while longer, the previous mood broken. She determined to try to revive it on their way home.

And it nearly worked, taking him by surprise when she began flirting in the taxi on the way home, catching the driver’s eyes occasionally, or more than occasionally – she didn’t pay that much attention. And in the elevator, until they were joined by another young couple they recognized: newlyweds. Trevor pulled away again.

She gave up, not even interested any more if he was going to act that way about it. If it had to keep getting in the way. In their apartment, she said she was going to take a hot shower and warm up, walking away. And she knew her voice wasn’t very friendly. That didn’t matter to her, either. He was in bed, turned the other direction, when she got back to their room.



Waking up to silence, alone, Jenna sighed. She didn’t even have the kids at home to act as a buffer, to give her something to do other than facing the distance. She wondered what Trevor was doing. Reclining on the couch watching some cartoon, she guessed. What could she do to keep herself busy? She supposed she needed a hobby to work on while not in the mood to paint, though she didn’t often have time to try to fill. It generally got filled without her searching. She could read, but had a hard time doing that with the television on.

Without the will to decide, she remained still, lying in bed looking at the ceiling. It was getting late. She rarely allowed herself the indulgence of just lingering, doing nothing at all. But it felt good to let her thoughts just flow as they wished, sorting things out in her brain. Not really finding any answers, but sifting through events, sorting and grouping. Wandering.

She jumped at his voice calling her name.

“Want me to go get the kids?”

Jenna sat up, rubbing a hand through her hair. “I can get up.”

“You don’t have to.”

She watched him, standing at the door, leaning against its frame. Wearing only a pair of sweat pants. Did he want her not to go? Or was he just offering? Tempted to take him up on the offer, to not have to go out in the cold, Jenna slid her feet around to the throw rug beside the bed. She couldn’t stand to touch her feet to the cold wood on winter mornings. No, she didn’t want him to go alone this time. She didn’t want to give him quite that much space.

She pulled her slippers over her toes and grabbed her robe. “I don’t have anything else planned. It won’t take me long.”

“There’s no rush. I called Aunt Nina and they’re fine.” He shuffled closer, nearly coming to her. “I’m glad you came with me last night. I know you were tired.”

Jenna searched his eyes, finding anticipation in his gaze. “I always enjoy being there with you. And how could I miss Nate’s birthday?”

He grinned, somewhat. Then he shifted his weight. “Jen….” He stopped.

“What?”

His chest rose and fell, slowly, deeply. And he shook his head. “Nothing.”

She watched as he went to his dresser, pulling out a sweatshirt that was much too big for him. With a silent sigh, Jenna went in to wash her face. He would get over it again, as always.



They barely spoke on the way to Nina’s. She could see the friction. Jenna saw the questioning glances and supposed Nina would ask Trevor about it later, alone. Jenna wondered what he would say, how much he complained to his aunt about her, about her refusal to give him what he wanted. Of course, Nina would never tell her. Her loyalty was to Trevor, not to her. The same was true of his bar friends. On the way back to the apartment, Jenna wondered if he talked about her there, when he was working. Did they know he wasn’t happy with her? Did he fuss to them? Keisha wasn’t at the bar often, and Nate wouldn’t be likely to repeat a personal conversation between himself and Trevor, not even to his wife. She wouldn’t have said anything otherwise. Or would she have? Maybe she was trying to help Trevor out because she did know.

The thought ate at her. How many knew? What was he saying behind her back?