Dirty Diana

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

—

The weeks of nonstop rain have finally ended. Outside Jasper’s bedroom window the July sky is cloudless, clear and black. Jasper has been up for hours. I hear him in the kitchen making tea, with the tip-tip-tap of Pippi’s nails on the hardwood floor as she follows Jasper’s every move. Then I hear the sliding glass door to the backyard open and shut.

Earlier tonight, we celebrated. An editor from a tiny art press outside of Dallas called to say she likes the story my paintings tell and, with a little more work, could see them as a book. She’s offered to publish them. Jasper bought us pink champagne and we toasted. He looked at me so steadily and raised his glass. “Good work, you.”

I stretch and pull on one of Jasper’s T-shirts and a pair of socks. It’s still dark out, and Jasper is in the backyard with a flashlight, trying to teach Pippi to fetch. I put on the work boots he keeps by the door and join them on the grass.

“Go on! Get the stick!” He throws it. She follows it with her gaze, then sits resolutely at his feet. Without turning he asks, “Do you think it’s because she’s lazy or stubborn or both?”

I consider Pippi. “Maybe she doesn’t get the rules of the game?” The summer air is thick and warm, but I still pull my socks up as high as they’ll go, to just below my knees.

Jasper throws another stick then shines the flashlight to show Pippi where it landed. She follows the movement of the light with her whole head, then rolls over on her back. “You’re totally useless,” he tells her, scratching her belly.

Then he stands and gazes at me. “I wish I didn’t have to go away tomorrow.” Jasper has a shoot outside of Phoenix, this one for a travel magazine. “I’ve gotten so used to having you with me every night.”

“It’s only a week.”

“A week! How will I sleep?”

“You can take Pippi, can’t you?”

“Of course, but it’s really not the same.” He stands behind me and kisses my neck, then pulls me close. He places his palms against my stomach. “Diana, I think we need a change of scenery.”

“Okay, but I definitely need to put on pants,” I say. “Want to walk down to the creek?”

“No, not a walk.” Jasper paces the yard. He stretches his arms high above his head and his T-shirt lifts with them, showing just a hint of smooth skin. “We need to get out of town.”

I think of our time away at the Airstream in Marfa. “I can get time off, just not until after Justine’s show. After that, I’m in.”

Jasper takes a seat at the wooden outdoor table, lost in thought, and uses Pippi’s stick to scrape off some of the peeling paint. There’s a chair next to him, but I fold myself onto his lap. He traces a finger along the inside of my wrist. “We’re artists, Diana,” he says. And I can’t help it—I like hearing him say it. After the editor’s phone call, I’m starting to let myself believe it.

“I’m thinking that we should get out of here for a while, not just a vacation. A friend of mine has a place in Taos. He’s never there and he’s been telling me I should go and stay as long as I want. So let’s both go. We can focus on our work. When Taos gets stale we’ll think about where we want to go next. Maybe Europe. Berlin? You’d love Berlin.”

I’m listening to him and trying to digest what he’s saying. I’m excited and surprised and frightened all at once. I don’t know how to answer.

“What do you think?”

“You want to just leave Santa Fe? I’d have to quit my jobs.”

“So? You don’t care about them. Not really.”

He’s right, I don’t care about the jobs, but I do care about earning enough money to get by, and I do care about Barry. Ever since Alicia announced she was moving, Barry and I have been spending more time together outside of work. It’s like we’re preparing ourselves for her departure. Some days, he comes over to my apartment to see what I’m working on and to talk about it. His responses are always honest and kind. He makes me want to keep going.

But maybe Barry will be in my life whether I work for him or not. Maybe it’s time to give the next newcomer to Santa Fe a chance at having the world’s greatest boss.

My feelings about Justine are more complicated. I sometimes have soap operatic daydreams about quitting—me storming out, her scarf coiled around my neck, the box of her favorite green tea tucked under my arm. But The Map is so close to being finished, and I want to see it completed. It’s beautiful, and we’ve all spent so many hours making it.

“The book money isn’t much,” I say. This is putting it mildly. It’ll be just enough to pay off my credit card and two months’ rent.

“Diana, watching you put this book together, all your excitement, it’s like a reminder of why I like doing any of this. And we should inspire each other. If we don’t keep moving forward…”

What? We die. If we sit still too long, we’ll disappear? Is that why he never sleeps?

“I don’t want a slow death,” he says, as if reading my mind.

I settle against the warmth of his chest. The lease on my apartment is already month-to-month, and the truth is, Santa Fe has begun to feel small lately. What once felt like an expanse of anonymity and never-ending possibility feels more like a sticky web of networking that’s grown stale.

“Let’s do it,” I say. “Let’s go to Taos.” As if sensing she might be left behind, Pippi jumps up so we share Jasper’s lap. “Who knows, maybe the mountain air will be good for Pippi’s skin.”

He takes my face in his hands and looks into my eyes and then kisses me deeply.

I lead him inside to the bed and by the time I’ve slipped off the work boots and slid in next to him, Jasper is already asleep. Even when Pippi jumps up and snuggles into him, he doesn’t stir. I watch the gentle rising and falling of his chest and think this is the most peaceful I’ve seen him in weeks. Maybe Taos is what we need. Maybe we can’t leave soon enough.

—

Pale fingers of sunlight are poking through the blinds when Jasper wakes me to say goodbye. He kisses my forehead. “See you in a few days. There’s coffee in the pot.” I roll over and drift happily back to sleep. I’m not due at Justine’s until the afternoon.

It’s nearly lunchtime when I finally get up. I find a pan to heat the coffee in and help myself to some thick crusty bread and raspberry jam. Then I rinse and dry the dishes and wipe down the counter, carefully brushing the crumbs into the trash.

I dread going to Justine’s. If I ever become successful enough at anything to have my own employees, I’ll never make them feel guilty for quitting. I’ll send them off with a smile. I find myself envying Jasper for being his own boss, no jobs to quit before we leave town or people to disappoint.

When I arrive at the studio, Melodie and a sweet-voiced woman named Hannah, who was hired to help us finish The Map in time, are already working. Justine isn’t in yet. Hannah gives a wave and continues her story, pausing to catch me up. She and her roommate are fighting, something about whether or not he really found a four-leaf clover. She pauses a couple times to say, “The point is, he’s a liar. It’s not about the clover. ” Melodie nods along supportively.

When Jasper calls a few hours later, just the sound of his voice through the phone, and the fact I won’t see him tonight, lays me flat with longing.

Justine doesn’t turn up until the early evening. I hear her before I see her. The tinkling of her gold bangles, the sound of her kicking off her shoes before she pads over to examine our work. “Mm-hmm. Good, Diana. Really nice.” Melodie stiffens, waiting, while Hannah takes a break and stretches. Justine looks over Melodie’s sections. She sighs. “Honestly, Melodie, it’s fine but haven’t you been in the same place for quite a while now? Hannah’s just started and look how far along she is.” She gestures to the panel Hannah has been working on, tall stalks of brick-colored yarn flecked with bright yellows. “Diana, come and look, tell me how we can help Melodie’s patches over here. Maybe we mix in another blue?” Hannah blushes and turns away. Melodie’s chin is quivering.

I stand up. This isn’t going to get any easier by waiting, and I don’t want her to accuse me of not giving enough notice. “Justine. Do you have a minute?” I make her a cup of tea without her even asking for it. Then I pour out a handful of almonds into a little dish in front of her.

“Please don’t ask me for another day off,” she says. “Those days you took off for impromptu vacation nearly killed me.”

“No, not another day off…I…well, I’m moving.” The next part comes out sounding rehearsed. “It was a last-minute opportunity and I couldn’t say no.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jasper and I, we’re moving to Taos.”

Justine scans my face, to see if I’m joking. When I don’t smile, she asks, “When?”

“We haven’t set a date, but, well, as soon as we can wrap things up here. We have a place to stay in Taos already.” I figure I can trash most of my stuff. All I need are my clothes and Jasper’s photograph of the running girl and my tape recorder and paints. Everything else is from the Goodwill anyway.

“Leave,” Justine says.

“Now?”

“Now. Go. I can’t have this negative energy around me so close to a show.” She puts her teacup in the sink. “If you’re not committed to the work, then I don’t want you here.”

“But I can help you for a few more weeks. I can make sure we finish The Map in time,” I offer.

“Leave.” She waves her arm as if shooing a cat. “I expected more from you, Diana. I never thought you’d get waylaid by a man. Melodie, maybe. But not you.”

My mind races. Not from her confusing relationship advice, I’m used to that. But because I want to say something about the gratitude I really do feel for her. “I’m sorry, Justine. I thought you would understand. You told me to prioritize my own projects…”

“Stop. Stop. I don’t want to hear it.” She turns her back to me, rinsing her cup in the sink, so I go. Hannah looks as confused as I feel as I hand her my set of the studio keys and remind her to feed Henri. Melodie gives me a hug and whispers, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I whisper back. I need it. Because the unscrambled part of my brain is beginning to drown in regret.