Crashing Into Blue

Chapter 45

We get to the gallery early, my heels in hand. I gave up on walking in them halfway there, when it felt like I couldn't take one more step without my feet revolting against me. Now, I reach out to Indigo, using her arm as a support to sling my shoes back on. Once I'm fully dressed again, we open the doors to go in.

The gallery is dimly lit, with the spotlights shining onto our mom's pieces. The pieces are as familiar to me as she is, a true extension of her being. I see the deep blues and vibrant turquoises of her oceanscapes, the bright reds and yellows of the bathing suits of portrait beachgoers, the scurrying of sand pipers and the little footsteps they leave in the sand. Turning around the room, I am hit with a feeling of home. This is us, I think to myself. Also scattered around the room are waiters and waitresses, unpacking trays of food and setting out the glassware. I see tiny canapes being set onto trays and tiny wedges of cheese being pierced with multicolooured toothpicks. Bottles of wine and champagne are being set out, ready to be popped open and poured out.

Indigo and I make our way to towards the back of the gallery, where we hear our mom's voice giving directions.

"A little to the left... yes, now it's perfect, thank you Robert."

As we turn the corner, we finally come face to face with the crux of her show, the big question mark of the summer, and it takes our collective breath away.

The painting is of a girl beneath the surface of the ocean. She has long blonde hair, which is swirling around her in hypnotic tendrils. There are shells and strings of pearls and even a small orange starfish wound in the locks of her hair. She's in a long gauzy white dress, which is tangled around her leg, along with a few pieces of seaweed wrapped around her foot. The other leg is bent underneath her dress, as if she's pushed herself up off the ocean floor. There's a mischievous glimmer in her dark eyes and a determined set to her mouth. Her arms are floating at her sides and her hands are open to let the water run through them. The blue of the ocean lightens as you reach the top of the canvas, emulating the feeling that she is going towards the surface. All around her is aquatic life, swimming sideways through the canvas, making her seem like a bullet tearing oppositely through the landscape. Underneath, there's a plaque with the title of the piece. I lean in to see the name. First breath, it reads.

"So, what do my two harshest and most important critics think?" our mom says from behind us. She's in a long emerald dress, her hair wavy and pinned back from her face.

"It's... gorgeous," I say back to her.

"It's a killer piece mom," Indigo says as she smiles at the painting.

"I'm glad you like it, since you two were my inspiration," she says to us as she walks towards the painting, gently brushing the canvas edge.

"You two are my mermaids; you've loved the water for as long as I can remember. Through and through you two are beach girls. But now you're going somewhere very different from what you're used to in order to take the first steps in making your dreams come true."

"Like we're taking our first breath out of water," I say to her. She shares a knowing smile.

"Very clever of you," Indigo says while wagging her finger at our mom.