Juliana Haygert - Playing Pretend

“Uh, enigmatic,” MaryAnn teased before drinking from her champagne.

I stared at the drink. Perhaps it would help with my nerves, but my stomach only tightened with the prospect of having anything in it.

Becca looked at each one of us. “Jeez, tense air. How about you two give us a grand tour, explaining each masterpiece?”

“Boring,” MaryAnn said, dragging out each letter. “I know what isn’t boring. The three cute guys at four o’clock.” She linked her arm to Becca’s. “Come on.”

And out they went.

“Will she ever not be after guys?” I asked, wondering how she had energy to keep up with this kind of life.

“She’ll meet the perfect guy for her one of these days and she’ll settle down,” Liana said, her voice confident.

“I love how positive you always are.”

“Someone has gotta be.” She nudged me with her elbow and I shook my head.

A ball of nerves, I dragged Liana to walk around with me. We were passing by the front door when my mother walked in, followed closely by her assistant.

“Hello, Charlotte,” she said, embracing me.

“Hi, Mom.” I returned the awkward hug, and then gestured to Liana. “You remember my friend.”

“Yes, Liana. Hello, how are you?” My mother smiled at her and I almost let out a sob of happiness.

A few days ago, I had invited my mother and my three best friends to have dinner at my new apartment in Washington so they could meet. Besides the tense air and the refined manner the girls tried to use, it went well. My mother didn’t try to kill them or persuaded me away from them. I guess we were making progress.

Liana nodded. “Hello, Governor McClain, I’m well. Thank you.”

“Oh, please, call me Peyton.” My mother patted Liana’s arm then turned to me. “Now, where are your masterpieces?”

I pointed to an archway to our left. “There.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and brag a little,” she joked. My mother joked! The world was ending.

She waved at us then disappeared through the archway.

I looked at Liana with wide eyes. “I swear, an alien came an abducted my mother. That woman is not Peyton McClain.”

Liana laughed. “Come on, hon. Give her some credit. She said she didn’t want to lose you. She’s trying, and so far she’s doing great.”

Tears brimmed in my eyes. “She is.”

Liana and I went back to our side of the gallery, mingling and talking to people, explaining our thoughts when drawing this or painting that.

A waiter passed with a tray and I reached for a flute, but Liana stopped me. She held my hand and pulled me back.

“What?”

She was the one looking nervous now. “Don’t panic, but I see two professors, the assistant director, and the director of the arts program.”

“Holy crap.” My palms started sweating almost instantly.

“Act cool, be cool,” Liana said. “They will love the entire collection, you’ll see.”

Liana went ahead to greet them and show them her collection. Meanwhile, I clasped my hands together so I wouldn’t bite my nails or rip the decorative belt from my dress.

She didn’t tell them when she guided them to my collection. I hovered close by, trying to hear whatever they were saying about my paintings, but I only caught a few insignificant words here and there.

Finally, they stopped before the main painting and stared at it in silence for a long time. Behind her back, Liana beckoned me to join them. I took a deep breath and went to her. She linked her arm to mine and pulled me close.

“What do you think?” she asked them.

“The technique is exquisite,” a professor said.

“This is different from the rest of your collection,” the assistant to the director said. “In fact, the last few pieces all are different.”

“It’s because they are not mine,” Liana said with a big smile. “The last few pieces and this one were painted by my good friend, Charlotte McClain.”

My cheeks warmed as four pairs of eyes fell on me. “Hello,” I said and instantly felt lame. Seriously? Hello? That was all I could say? I cleared my throat and prepared to impersonate my mother’s daughter, to make use of my blood and the way I was raised, to woo them with my words.

However, the director spoke first. “Charlotte McClain. I remember your application. Very impressive, just like your paintings in this gallery, but a month late.”

My shoulders sagged. This had been a big waste of time. I would have to stay here and do practically nothing for an entire year other than be active in my mother’s life until I could apply for school again.

“Yes, sorry about that,” I said, wishing I could take it back, that I had never sent that damn application.

“Don’t be sorry,” the director said. “You have the talent and the drive, and it seems you fight for what you want and that’s a great quality.” He stared at the assistant director for a moment, then she nodded and I felt like I was interrupting a private conversation. “Unfortunately, most of our studio classes are full for this semester, but, if you’re willing, you can join the program and start with other core classes.”

My heart stopped and my mouth fell open. Liana squeezed my arm and squealed.

“T-this semester?” I asked.

He nodded. “Starting in one week.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“Do you accept those terms?” the assistant asked.

“Of course I do!”

She smiled. “Congratulations, and welcome to the arts program at George Washington University.”

Liana squealed again and pulled me into a hug. “I told you they would love it.”

I was still in shock and probably imagined the director asking the assistant to see if they could schedule some private studio lessons for me so I wouldn’t miss the most important class of the entire semester.

It was heaven. The big thing I had been dreaming about happened and now I could breathe easier.

When Liana let go of me, the procession had already moved on to the rest of the exhibition.

“We need to celebrate.” She looked around the area. No waiters around. “I’ll go find us some champagne. Be right back.”

She left and I remained in my spot, admiring the main piece of my collection.

My mother stopped by side. “That’s a beautiful painting, Charlotte.” She touched my elbow gently. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“I must go now, get ready for a long dinner meeting.” She let her hand drop and whispered, “Even I hate those.”

I laughed.

Liana came back with two champagne flutes. “Oh, Governor McClain. I mean, Peyton. I didn’t know you were still here. Let me go get another flute.”

“No need,” my mother said. “I’m on my way out. You girls have fun.”

My mother walked away and Liana handed me a flute. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I said before sipping the bubbly liquid.

“Now, we’re only missing the big finale,” she whispered.

I tilted my head. “What if there’s no big finale?”

“I’m sure there will be.” She busied herself by drinking small gulps of her champagne.

“This isn’t a museum.”

I heard a known voice and I turned to it. Dressed in neat jeans and a white shirt with folded sleeves, Mason stood right under the archway dividing my exhibition from the others, just behind David, who was looking at me with a mischievous smile.

Mason’s bright eyes found mine, and his face paled a little. “Oh.”

“Hey, partner in crime,” David said, coming to stand beside me. “Hi, Liana.”

“Wait.” Mason approached us. “What did you do, David?”

“David,” Liana started. “How about we let these two talk?”

He offered his arm to Liana. “Sure. Will you show me your paintings?”