Old Friends at an Exhibition

Will A. Sanborn

12/16/00

He'd been there for ten or fifteen minutes before he saw her, wanting first to take a look at her art. He'd seen the occasional piece over the years, mostly through photographs, but now he could see it all on display. It was a small gallery, and not too crowded that night, but it was a start, and she was most-likely very excited for it.

As he was looking over one of her works, he felt someone approach behind him. Turning around, he saw it was her, as he'd expected. He met her smile with one of his own. It was good to see her again after so long, but he also felt old memories stirring, ghosts of the distant past. He tried not to let those show on his face, and if she noticed, she at least did her best to mask any uneasiness of her own.

"Paul, you came," she said, her smile broadening, "thank you."

"You're welcome, Susan. When I read about it I wanted to make an effort to get out here for it. It's been too long anyway..."

She nodded, her smile twitching slightly, but holding well.

After a moment's pause, he added "it looks like you've done well here, congratulations," as he offered her his hand.

She took it, holding onto it warmly, but not any more so than the situation warranted. "Yes, thanks, it's taken a long time, and I got lucky finding this place here."

"I remember when you first started taking the classes," he replied. He also remembered never knowing that she had it in her to get this far, but he didn't voice those thoughts.

"While that was awhile ago, wasn't it?" she asked, a small chuckle escaping her, sounding just the slightest bit forced. He nodded, catching a glimpse of perhaps some old memories of her own, darting behind her eyes.

Searching for something to say, he finally asked "how have you been, Susan?"

"Fine, Paul, the art keeps me busy, but I really enjoy it, it gives me the outlet I need. How about you?"

"Good, work's going well and I'm happy where I am. It's a great place to work."

"How's Mary?" she asked politely, after a slight hesitation.

"She's good too. She's sorry she couldn't make it tonight, but sends her wishes for you." He guessed that she knew why his wife had declined to come with him to her opening, but there was no need to elaborate on it. He just smiled, and squeezing her hand slightly, he added "it's good to see you again."

"Yes it is, thanks again for coming."

They shared the moment between them, holding onto it until it threatened to become awkward. Finally, she broke the silence. "Why don't I show you around."

He nodded and they turned back to the picture he'd been looking at when she'd come up to him. "What do you think of this one, Paul?"

"Hmmm, well, I'm no art expert, but I like the colors and texture to it." He saw her nod, but waiting for more. "I also like the feel of it, the way you have the moon reflecting on the ocean, it seems, dark, kind of cold I guess... It seems kind of lonely and sad."

She smiled at his remarks. "That's exactly what I was going for, Paul, a kind of longing."

"Well I like it, it's got a nice beauty to it." He showed her a smile of his own. For the moment, as they stood together talking about her art, it helped bridge the gulf of time between them, and he wanted to hold onto that moment for as long as possible.

They spent an hour or two going through the exhibit, as she showed him her work. Stopping at each piece, they found something to talk about, comments about the paintings, and even occasional snippets from their shared past. She introduced him to a few of the other attendees at the opening as well, meeting a couple of her friends briefly. All too soon though, it had to end.

Reaching the last of her works, he could feel the magic of the evening slipping away. Without more art to look at and discuss, the catalyst was gone. He worried that things might become stilted and awkward again, and he sensed she could feel it too. In the end it was best not to try and hold onto the magic too tightly, but to let it gently slip away. The time, short as it was, had still been good.

They said their good-byes, and it had even felt right to give her a gentle hug, which she'd eagerly returned. Then doing their best to keep their rueful smiles more cheery, and idly promising to keep in better touch, they parted company. She watched him as he left, and before walking out the door, he turned and gave her a small wave, then he was off, down the stairs and out into the cool night air.

Walking to his car, and then as he was driving home, old memories lingered in his mind. Thinking of the time spent with her stirred up old emotions. She'd done well with her work too, better than he could've ever guessed, and that too reminded him of how long ago it had been. He was also reminded of the old guitar of his, he'd gotten it in college and it'd had long since been relegated to a corner of his closet. Perhaps it was time to get it out again and spend some time with it. Smiling a little to himself, he thought perhaps that he could use his own creative outlet.


Copyright 2000, Will A. Sanborn - was1@shore.net