When Love Calls Read online

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  I was in nothing but my nightshirt and had planned to stay that way until time for my first art class later in the evening. The morning run with BGR had taken a toll on me and when I got home, I took a scorching hot shower and jumped into bed. It was noon now, the sun was beaming through my window and I was propped up in bed thinking about the class I was scheduled to attend later on. I’d found an art studio called Both Sides where I could participate in a moderately-sized group and receive some personalized instruction. I was somewhat uneasy about revisiting painting for the first time in front of a bunch of people, but I wanted the benefit of individual help. It had been years since I’d painted and I hadn’t sketched anything since my early days in college. I glanced over at the notebook and slid it off the nightstand. I flipped through the sketches of animals, scenery and abstract designs. I hope I remember the light and shading techniques. I thought as I studied the pages. It had always been so relaxing for me to draw and paint. I was looking forward to having that feeling again.

  Screw sleeping in. I’m going to get art supplies. I leapt out of bed and damn-near skipped my way across the room to the dresser. I pulled a pair of black leggings and a matching tank top from the drawer. I tossed the pants and shirt over my shoulder and stepped into my walk-in closet to find the perfect sweater for the occasion. As I skimmed the neatly folded, color-coded stacks of sweaters, I found the perfect one. “I think I’m feeling electric blue today.” I told myself as I pulled out the oversized, off the shoulder, cobalt blue, knit sweater. I thought long and hard about whether or not underwear was an option for the day. I was feeling a new sense of freedom and had actually begun to enjoy walking around my house naked or close to it. After some serious thought, I revisited my dresser and pulled out a thong and brazier. Tit-sling and undies it is. I resigned. After securing the coverage of all my naughty parts, I pulled the black tank top on and slid the sweater over it. I tugged the leggings up and over the curve of my buttocks and strode back to the closet in search of my blue and black high-topped Jordan’s. For the most part, I was very much into feminine attire and style, except when it came to sneakers. I was a bonafied Sneaker head. I realized a long time ago that the best sneakers were in the boys or men’s section so my collection consisted of mostly men’s shoes. It was the best of both worlds really. I got to have the hottest sneakers and could convince male suitors that I had a live-in boyfriend if the need arose.

  I pulled the sneakers on over my cotton ankle socks before I standing to head to the bathroom. I took a lingering glance down at my sneakers that perfectly matched my sweater. Hot! At the very same moment, I realized my shoes weren’t the only hot thing in the room. My breath was pretty hot too! Speed-walking into the bathroom, I squeezed a dollop of toothpaste across the brush and went straight for my tongue. No more cheese before bed. I commanded silently. I could not wake up to this again. When I was no longer dreading the fact that my body required me to inhale and exhale, I gave a quick swish and gargle with some Listerine, dabbed my mouth with a washcloth and stepped back into the bedroom toward the vanity. My jet-black tresses were tossed up once again into a messy bun atop my head. I grabbed a pair of large silver, beveled hoops and placed one in each earlobe. I smiled into the mirror as I surveyed my appearance. Nice. I looked exactly like I felt, relaxed and free.

  I’d invited Feliz to come out with me to get art supplies and she was more than willing. She was into photography when she wasn’t working at the hospital, so I asked her to bring her camera along in case we saw something amazing during our outing. To which Feliz had doubtfully replied, “Ok, but I don’t know what kind of amazing things we are going to see at Michael’s.”

  Truthfully, Feliz was happy just to get some time to herself. When I called she mentioned, “Mario and the boys are going bowling tonight, so would you mind if I tagged along to your art class? We could make a day of it since we never get to hang out just the two of us.” She was right. We never really hung out much, and I thought it would be cool for us to do some artistic stuff together, so I told her I’d swing by and pick her up.

  As I made the drive to pick up Feliz, I pondered her a bit. She was different from all my other friends and was best described as a controlled fire. At first glance, one might think she was quiet but she was actually thoughtful and observant. She spent a lot of time analyzing the atmosphere around her, so photography seemed like a natural pastime. Feliz didn’t say much but when she saw something worth speaking on, she always did. On the flip side of her personality was a jovial person who loved to laugh and dance and have a good time. She was a true bad ass who had managed to be reined in by Mario. Love, marriage and family had calmed her way down –that plus a few close calls with the law that almost changed her life path completely. I met her when we started clinicals together and I disliked her from the very first day. Now I know it was probably because we were too similar. Driven, focused and never backing down from a challenge. In fact, Feliz would go down in history as the one person who had gone toe-to-toe with me in an argument, and not only had she not backed down, she’d won! In most circumstances, I got the last word, but in that particular debate I was rendered speechless. That day Feliz managed to piss me off and impress me at the same time. Once we got over our egos (mostly my ego), we realized we actually had some things in common and our witty banter was a welcome distraction from the stresses of patients and clinicals.

  I pulled into the driveway of Feliz and Mario’s home and had barely gotten out of the car when Sebastian and Felix came running out to greet me. Sebastian, the older of the two, was tall for eight and wore his hair and clothes in a style that reflected the impact of both his father and pop culture. Today he wore loose-fit dark denim jeans and a black long-sleeved graphic tee with a skull and crossbones dead center. Felix, on the other hand, was completely different in both style and personality. He was wearing khaki cargo pants and a long-sleeved navy polo beneath the open coat that flapped in the wind around his six-year-old frame as he trotted toward me. He was clearly still being guided by his mother’s fashion influence. “Hey Aunt Erin,” they yelled in unison nearly knocking me down as flung their bodies against either side of my hips and wrapped their arms around me.

  “Hey guys! Felix, you’re getting tall! You will be as big as Sebastian soon, huh,” I said, as I tussled the loose brown curls atop his head. Sebastian made a face and backed away as he ran his hand over his tapered haircut. No doubt a move he’d picked up from his father who wore his hair the exact same way. I smirked at the gesture. “I know you’re too old for me to play in your hair Bass. I wouldn’t want to ruin your look.” I kidded. He looked away sheepishly and fought back a smile. Such a little man. “What are you boys doing home? No school today?”

  “Dad’s taking us to the dentist and the doctor in the same day,” Felix groaned, pulling his face into a grimace. “He’s making up for it by taking us bowling tonight, though!” He chimed, and his mouth pulled back into an excited grin revealing the empty space where his front tooth should have been.

  I tilted his chin up toward me and he only resisted a little before giving in. “Someone lost a tooth! Wow! It really has been a long time since I’ve seen you guys.” I gave them each a heartfelt squeeze. Just then, Mario and Feliz walked out of the house and down the driveway.

  “Hey Erin! Long time no see,” Mario said as he unlocked the car and began loading the boy’s in. “This is a different look for you. You must have a new guy or something,” he teased.

  “Actually, no. I just felt like doing something different today if that’s alright,” I retorted playfully.

  “Mario leave her alone.” Feliz warned cutting a sideways glance in Mario’s direction. “You look cute Erin.” She said as she opened the passenger door and climbed in.

  “Being off from work definitely agrees with you honey,” Feliz eyed me with a smile. “Damn, I wish I looked that good after a break up! What’s new with you?” Her raised brow hinted that she was expecting
to hear I was dating some new young guy, who had me dressing like a college flashback.

  “Nothing much really. I’m training for this half marathon with Angela, doing this art class and hopefully going skydiving in the near future.”

  “You call that nothing much?! You are really going all in with this search for passion, huh? You found anything that sparked your interest yet,” Feliz asked as she scrolled through pictures already saved in her camera.

  “Well, I like running more than I did when I started a few days ago. My lungs are finally starting to cooperate. I’m also thinking about maybe singing at a public venue soon… not really soon, but eventually. A friend of mine has a band, he said I can sit in on a set if I want. I’m seriously considering it. I really do love to sing… in private,” I chuckled.

  “It sounds like you have plenty to keep you busy while you’re off! Make sure you let us all know when you perform and we will be right there in the front row to cheer you on.”

  I pulled into the parking lot of Michael’s and without warning Feliz lifted the camera to her face and snapped a shot of me. “This will serve as proof so I can say, ‘I knew you when.’” We shared a laugh as we stepped out of the car toward the store.

  Inside I picked out a sketch book, colored pencils and charcoals. “Oh shoot! Someone’s getting serious! Look at you buying real art supplies and shit,” Feliz laughed amidst giving me her “I’m impressed” face. “We should definitely go to Navy Pier. I could get some great shots of the skyline and you could sketch some stuff. The boats are out and I’m sure there will be a few musicians and whatnot; plenty of things to sketch and snap.” I could see Feliz had gotten excited just talking about it. I had to admit it was nice to have someone who shared my artistic interest. Feliz picked up a couple of picture frames and some matting paper, then we headed toward the register.

  The drive to Navy Pier was an unusually quiet one. We both seemed content to take in the roadside scenery as we drove into the city. When we finally arrived there was very little activity going on. It was a far cry from the summer bustle of people and music. It was almost like when the trees went dormant for the winter, the city did too. At that moment, I looked forward to the budding of spring blossoms and the steady, subtle awakening of Chicago, as well.

  The winter breeze coming back up from the water hit me head on as I stepped from the car. It made the temperature feel even lower than it actually was and I immediately reached for my coat, scarf, hat and gloves in the back seat. “I think our trip is going to be short lived Feliz. It’s freezing out here! I hope you can get a few good pics. Maybe I can sketch them later, but I don’t foresee us staying out here long.”

  “Well, what if we go sit in one of the restaurants up top by the window? I can get a few shots and then we can go inside,” Feliz said. That was a fair compromise and I stifled the chatter of my teeth long enough to let Feliz get shots of the skyline, shops on the pier and a group of people walking by. That one may have been the best picture. It was a group of friends huddled closely together walking chin-to-chest against the wind as their colorful scarves flapped helplessly in the wind. I made up my mind that if the shot came out like the image in my head, it would be the one I would sketch. Feliz pulled the camera from her face and said with trembling lips, “I’m good. Let’s head inside. We can scroll through the pics. Maybe there will be a couple of shots you can use. I could do them in black and white or in color.”

  “I’m sure their all great. Let’s talk more about this inside.” I was already speed walking my way toward the restaurant and resisted the urge to break out into a full on sprint. Shit it’s cold!

  Inside the restaurant, we found a table with a full view of the pier and the skyline. The thought of sketching Feliz’s pic instantly melted away as I stared out the window at the sunset reflecting against the water and the silhouette of the skyline against the backdrop of faint pink graduating to purple as dusk blanketed the sky. A breath caught in my chest and I snatched up my sketch pad and began furiously stroking colored pencils against the paper. When the waiter came I mumbled my order of a Caesar salad, the soup of the day and hot tea before tuning him out completely as he turned to Feliz to take her order. I couldn’t scratch down the image fast enough. The daylight was fading and now I was working from the image burned in my mind. I continued to shade, blend and smudge the drawing until it looked close to what I’d seen minutes before. When I finally popped my head up from the sketch pad Feliz was chewing a mouthful of her cheeseburger and gawking at me with an unblinking stare. “I would have made some small talk, but I didn’t want to disturb you. The only other time I’ve seen you in the zone like that is during surgery!” Feliz was clearly in awe and I couldn’t figure out why until I looked down at the table and saw my warm salad and cold soup next to my cell phone that told me I’d been sketching for over an hour. That’s impossible.

  “I’m so sorry Feliz! How rude of me. I didn’t realize so much time had passed. I guess I’ll have them pack this food to go because the art class will be starting soon.” I waved the waiter over and asked to have the food wrapped up and for the check. “I’ll pay for lunch. It’s the least I can do for ignoring you for the past hour.” She didn’t protest as she slid her check across the table to me. I smirked and handed both tickets and my debit card over to the waiter.

  When he returned, we gathered our things and rushed back to the car. I wheeled out of the parking space and into the thickening evening traffic that reminded me it was still a weeknight in Chicago. I turned to Feliz briefly at a red light, beaming with excitement. “It’s all coming back to me Feliz. I used to sit for hours in my free time and sketch as a way to decompress from school and all the other stressors of life during college. It feels really good to be doing art again.” I gushed before returning my attention back to the road.

  “Yeah, I could tell you were somewhere else. It’s like something flipped on inside you and took over.” Feliz really was observant. She’d sat there in silence for an hour doing nothing but watching. I wasn’t sure if it was out of amazement or just for the chance to learn something new about me. Maybe it was a bit of both. “I also noticed that you ordered tea and not wine. Did you rededicate your life or something? Since when don’t you drink wine?”

  I laughed full out before I told her, “No, I haven’t rededicated or converted. I’m just taking a break from drinking for a while. It was becoming my go-to problem-solver and I want to be fully equipped to handle my own problems. I don’t want to be numb anymore because feeling –whether good or bad- is a part of the journey. I want the full ride -especially if I’m going to be paying for it either way!”

  “I can understand that Erin. You need an outlet and if art helps you decompress the same way alcohol used to, then, by all means, do that. I just hope you don’t dry up completely. You are funny as hell when you drink!” Feliz let out a laugh. “Then again, that may be the real you coming out under the influence of the alcohol. Maybe when you get to the core of who you are you won’t even need the alcohol to coax you out of your shell. You’ll be that same funny, fun-loving person all the time.” I swear I have the smartest friends. Still something she said struck a chord.

  “Well, damn Feliz am I usually that dry?” Her statement had hit a tender spot, but I wasn’t offended. I actually wanted to know what she thought, so I listened.

  “I never think you’re dry Erin, just guarded. I think once you learn to trust yourself to be who you are, you won’t be so guarded. I look forward to the day I can hang out with that Erin all the time. I know it’s coming. That’s why I was so excited to come out with you today. I know this is just a part of you peeling back another layer and being brave enough to expose another aspect of who you really are.” At that moment, I knew I was surrounded by the best group of friends that any woman could ever want or need. They were smart and grounded and secure enough to not only fall back and let me grow, but to also get in my face with the truth when they knew I needed it.

&n
bsp; When we arrived at the art class, we were excited to see the room filled with an array of people. There were some who looked like hippies who were experienced artists, couples just having fun doing something different and then, there were beginner artists. Feliz and I found two seats in the back and slipped on our smocks. A woman and a man dressed in tie-dye shirts came to the front of the room and introduced themselves as Amy and Ryan. They informed us that the group was very informal and each artist could pick from one of their art outlines or free-hand our own original art. They also encouraged the class to break out the libation of their choice in addition to any snacks they may have brought to enjoy throughout the session. The class would last from 6:30-9 p.m. People began getting up and heading over to the art supply table and gathering materials and Feliz and I followed suit.

  The time seemed to fly by and at the end of the session, I had what was clearly defined as a painting of the Chicago skyline. I’d chosen it because something in me felt like my sketch was unfinished but this piece felt complete. It fulfilled that deep yearning in me to paint through the emptiness until it was filled with colors, smells and art. I looked over at Feliz’s painting and studied what was either a bowl of lemons, a bucket of flowers or a bowl of popcorn. I neither the heart nor nerve to ask what it was because Feliz seemed genuinely proud of it and I didn’t want to be the one to burst her bubble.

  When Feliz leaned around my easel to take a peek, I watched as her eyes grew wide and a look of awe etched its way across her face. “Oh my God Erin! You’re an artist! Seriously, like an actual artist, not one of those ‘I just do this for fun’ types. You have a true gift! How is it that none of us knew about this?! Wait, I’m gonna take a picture of it!” Feliz ran out of the studio to my car and grabbed her camera. When she returned several other people in the class had gathered around to admire my artwork. I felt shy and exposed at first, but when I realized people actually genuinely liked the painting I smiled with pride. The rose that kissed my cheeks settled and I basked in the moment. It was different from surgery or anything related to my work. This was about my natural gift, not what I’d groomed myself to be and the success felt… sweeter. It felt real.