I'd had what I would consider my first successful show. The exhibit of my paintings had been set up in a small community hall near my parents' home. I'd done as much before, but this time strangers and people from out of town had come. Several paintings had sold even, one for significantly above the marked price because two prospective buyers had bid each other up. Needless to say, I was higher than a kite without having ingested any foreign or illicit substances.
Amy was just as high. Both she and Ben were happy for me, but she gets exuberant, he stays calmer. We were sprawled across the battered furniture in the basement rec room of my parents' home. A table between us was strewn with the remains of a fast food supper and a few snacks, but we'd long ago stopped eating. Now we were settled in to talk and just hang out. "Did you hear what they were saying about your work?" Amy grins broadly. "Some of it anyway," I turn my head to her, "I got stuck listening to Aunt Bea for a while. She wasn't praising my work." Amy rolls her eyes, "Why does she even come?" I shrug, not having an answer. Ben speaks up, "Have you decided what to do about that letter?" I frown for a second before remembering which letter he's talking about. He means the response to my application to the best fine arts school in the country. They'd accepted, but also enclosed were some terms for students and a full listing of their sky high tuition and supplies costs. Makes me uncertain about actually enrolling there. It's my parents who think I should go back to school anyway. "Not yet," I make a face. "You don't need to go back to school," Amy shakes her head, "You don't need a degree to prove how good your paintings are. 'Sides, if you go back to school, it'll break up the company and we'd have to go back to school or something too." "You've heard my parents on the subject of the company," I sigh, "Not a long term career prospect... whatever that means." Amy makes a face, "It means they're stuck in a long past decade. But we all know a degree doesn't guarantee a good job anymore," She snorts, "Seems like nothing guarantees a 'good' job anymore. Everything's all part-time or temporary or outsourced." Ben nods his agreement, "We've all looked into it before. The company's grown with every year we keep at it. My dad looked at the latest numbers and said he wishes he could do as well." Amy nods, her grin returning as she looks at me, "Bet your parents wouldn't believe it." "They don't," I can't help a sour expression, "But just one of the paintings sold today will pay off the last of what I owe them for our start up funding. That's in four years, not the ten they said I could take to pay it back." "So we're officially out of debt?" Ben looks a little surprised. "Well, as soon as I pay them," I nod in confirmation, "And I haven't had a chance to tell you, but there was a message came through just before the showing. We're wanted to visit and review several of Exotic Haven's resorts." "Sounds like a nice, quiet break." Ben nods to himself. "Sounds boring," Amy makes a face, "Do we have to?" "The proposal is for ten resorts over the next five years," I inform her, "Even you need a break from the more exciting trips occasionally." She continues to make a face. Ben queries, "Are their terms in line with ours?" "Slightly better than. But you know I don't accept contracts without you two." "Good." Amy still looks unimpressed. "I think this one's worth taking," I point out, "And it should be easy enough to fit in between other things." Ben nods his agreement, "I'd say accept. Besides, I'm pretty sure we still have a long list of other requests and proposals." "Not good ones," Amy retorts, "All these people and companies just want our stamp of approval on their safe, boring, little projects. Not what I signed on for." "Maybe not," Ben shakes his head, "But they do pay us directly, and more than we get from hits on our site." Amy snorts, "Long as there's enough to fund the next trip, we don't need to worry about them. 'Tween my novels and your photography and Elsa's paintings, pretty soon we won't even need the company." I shake my head, "The company was formed around the things we wanted to do: Go on trips and share our experiences, write, create art. Reviews are the side thing for when we have time. 'Sides, some of those resorts and whatever aren't very good places. Remember the so called four star resort last year?" Ben does a full body shudder. Amy turns just a little green. "Honesty before money," I remind them, "Plus it might be the best time for the mountain trip we've been talking about." "You've been talking about," Amy wrinkles her nose, "There's nothing exciting about thousands of years old ice and rock." "Just glacial melt and avalanche risk and whatever might be contained in said ice and rock." Ben looks undisturbed by her skepticism. There's no change to Amy's expression, but I've yet to see Ben convince her of anything. I glance over her, "So what do you think we should do next?" "I want to see if there's any truth behind the celestial tribe tale we heard last winter." Ben shakes his head, "It's in a war zone. We'd never get across the border." "I bet we could," Amy's eyes meet his in a challenge, "The border isn't closed... not completely. Or are you two too scared to try." Ben and I exchange a glance. We both know Amy's dares get us into trouble. And yet we go for it every time.
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AuthorAlexandra A. 'Lexa' Cheshire is the author of numerous novels and short stories published through Howling Wolf Books. Lexa is a wife, mother, cat owner, and music lover. Archives
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