Meg
I wake Saturday morning with that email on my mind. I think about my submission and how I'm going to be featured in a gallery. I'm still in awe and surprise at that—somewhat disbelief, too. A thought occurs to me, though. I'll have to mat and frame my artwork. That can get expensive and it never occurred to me until now. I realize that I get paid once every two weeks at the Y and I won't be able to pay for those supplies. It's likely that it'd cost more than my paycheck, too. I bite my lip in nervousness and I recall that hotel room of Jai's. Their website was lacking according to him. Perhaps if I offer my services, they'd consider paying me. I get ready for my day and check my email with breakfast. I stop mid-bite when I see that the gallery is accepting my entire entrance and I will be the only artist presented. I'll need even more frames and mats than I thought. I pray for God to help this plan of mine to work. I continue reading and I'm requested to be at the gallery for the entire week—the week of St. Patrick's Day. I sigh shakily. That's honestly like a dream come true since I always wanted to go to Chicago for the festival but I'll need to be able to pay for a hotel room in Chicago for that long. I have no idea how I'm going to afford all of this. God, please provide.
I finish my breakfast and head out with my stack of business cards I made in my professional practices class, several résumés, and my camera gear. First, I stop at the hotel in downtown Riverview. I step in to see Ryan at the front desk. I smile and wave to him.
"Jai's not here anymore," he tells me.
"I know," I say furrowing my brows.
"Oh," he says surprised. "So you guys are close. What's up with that?"
"Um," I say scratching my arm in nervousness. I didn't even think about having to talk about this. "It's kind of complicated?" I shrug.
"How so?" he asks nosily leaning forward on his forearms across the desk. He's grinning.
"We love each other but I told him no because he's not a Christian," I admit softly.
He blinks in surprise. "So, you weren't just blowing me off before?" he asks me seriously.
"No, I was being honest," I admit. I told him in high school that I wasn't allowed to date until I graduated. Then he waited until graduation.
"He's seriously in love with you?" he asks me.
I nod uncomfortably.
"This is kind of a sore subject," I admit.
"Sorry, it's just... nothing like this ever happens in this boring town," he apologizes.
"It's okay," I say gently.
There's silence between us for a moment.
"So, I was wondering if the owners would be interested in having their facility photographed and update the website," I say.
"Are you looking for a job?" he asks excitedly.
"Sort of," I admit. We were friends in school so I explain what's going on.
"So you're seriously getting your art shown in Chicago and you need money for the trip?" he asks.
"And the supplies," I nod. "The frames and mats I can cut and assemble but the materials are still pricey."
He whistles in awe, "Man, you're really going places. Maybe someday you'll be added on this list of famous people in the area."
I shrug not really looking for fame or anything. I'm just trying to do what I enjoy.
"Ethyl is actually in the office," he tells me. "She and her husband, Richard, own the hotel. They paid some serious money to someone for their current webpage design and it's honestly pretty weak. I know they want it done well but they're afraid to fork out a ton of money again and have a poor job done."
I nod in understanding.
"I have my business card and résumé here," I say. "I also can show her what I've done for my church online. I actually designed the cards for our church, too," I say giving him one of the advertisements we hand out to invite people to our building.
"These are nice," he says. "I'll show her. Maybe I can coax her out."
"Thanks, Ryan," I say appreciatively.
He smiles at me. He steps back into an office. I notice there are two doors—one is laundry, the other has a desk. The office looks just as ornate and beautiful as the rest of the building, although the washing machine is somewhat modern—not the washboard and crank style at the historical museum.
A moment later a woman comes out with Ryan behind her. She appears close in age to my father, maybe a little older. She wears her hair in a chignon and she has on what appears to be a twenties style vintage dress. "So, I hear you can do internet designs," she smiles.
"Yes, ma'am. I'm Megan Wright," I say reaching out to shake her hand. "I'd curtsy but I'm not wearing a dress." She laughs at that and takes my hand—seemingly impressed that I share in her love of historical things.
"How do you do Miss Wright? I'm Ethyl Philips. My husband, Richard, and I manage the hotel," she grins.
"I'm well ma'am," I reply happily.
"So, it would appear that you're a church girl," she says.
"Yes, ma'am," I reply.
She smiles. "Why don't you come back to my office and we'll take a look at what you can do?"
"Thank you, ma'am," I reply happily.
Ryan lifts the hinged counter on the side to let me in and I follow Mrs Philips. She leads me into her office and it's very much in line with the rest of the hotel. The hues are dark brown, olive, and ivory—very masculine. The desk and chairs are antique—possibly refurbished—and the file cabinets are also. I see a Tiffany lamp on the desk and it's lovely as well as colorful. There is a small seated area on the far wall. A dark metal chandelier is suspended above her desk with old-fashioned light bulbs and little lamp shades on each. The walls are covered in antique paintings and photographs. I see a small grandfather clock on the wall and wonder how old it is but it's absolutely beautiful. There are fine, heavy draperies at both windows on either sides of the desk. The walls have various decorative and functional items lined up beautifully such as a freestanding globe, a record player, benches, end tables.
Mrs Philips walks me to the far seated area of the office and beckons me to accompany her on the dark brown leather sofa. It's covered in buttons. I join her as she picks up her laptop. I smile in that it's totally out of place in this room. Now that I'm sitting, I notice a built-in bookshelf along the far wall by the door. It's filled with leather-bound books and antique knickknacks.
"So... you assisted in the design of this church website?" she asks me. I realize the invite is in her hand and she's pulled up our webpage.
"No ma'am. I set up everything," I tell her.
She smiles at me. "You've done a lovely job," she says.
"Thank you," I say.
"How about the photographs?" she asks.
"Some I've taken, some others have," I admit.
"What about videos?" she asks. I notice that she sees them on there.
"Um, someone else usually does the recordings. I've offered but there are a few people that help out with those," I explain.
She nods and I see her click on last Sunday's service. It plays the prayer and then my singing.
"You lead worship?" she smiles.
"Just last Sunday. I usually sing backup. Our worship leader was out of town," I tell her. I don't know why I don't further explain the situation but I think that's adequate.
She smiles at me. "I go to the Lutheran Church down the street," she says.
"That one is beautiful," I tell her.
Her smile widens, "I think so, too."
She pauses the video.
"Do you have any other images I might see?" she requests.
"I have my camera on me," I tell her. "It has some recent digital copies I made of my artwork. I'm not sure what else I have on it." I get my camera out and turn it on. I skip past the cyanotypes since those are the most recent and first to pop up.
"Are those cyanotypes?" she asks curiously.
"Yes, ma'am," I tell her.
"Those are lovely. I've always enjoyed the look of those," she tells me.
"So have I," I smile.
I skip past those and show her some images from downtown. "I used an infrared film on these," I tell her passing her the camera. "They're more of an art print but it's demonstrating my landscape capabilities. I've seen the red room upstairs. A friend of mine stayed here recently. I could capture the room at several angles, possibly showcasing each room for you. It might help with requests and reservations."
"That's exactly what I was looking for when we set up the webpage a while back," she nods.
"If you like, I could try to improve on the existing site," I offer.
She smiles at me. "That's what I'm hoping for as well," she tells me. "How much do you charge?"
I bite my lip. "I honestly don't know," I shrug. "I've never done this before."
"How about this? I'll hire you to improve upon our existing site. If you've succeeded in bringing my vision of this hotel across to the public, then I'll pay you what I payed the last designer," she tells me.
"That sounds fair," I nod in agreement.
"You're not going to ask me what I'd pay you if you don't succeed?" she questions disbelievingly with a smile.
"Well, clearly you believe in God so I trust you to make an honest decision. He'll tell you what to if I don't," I explain.
Her smile widens even further and she laughs happily. "Yes, I definitely trust you more than the last artist," she nods.
"Thank you, ma'am," I say.
"Anytime, sweet girl," she replies patting my hand. She takes me over to her desk and she writes up a contract. I read it over and see the amount she intends to pay me. I'm in absolute shock.
"Mrs Philips, I think this is too much," I insist.
"But it's what I've promised," she tells me. "It's also the sum I feel God is encouraging me to give."
I blink in surprise and struggle with signing it. I don't want to argue with her to offend or with God either. But the sum is tremendous.
"Thank you for the opportunity," I tell her in a daze.
"You're quite welcome, dear," she says.
"When would I be able to start?" I inquire.
"At your leisure," she tells me.
"Would today be acceptable?" I ask.
She laughs in disbelief, "You really are an incredible girl. I felt like God was telling me something significant was going to happen today."
I smile at that. She has Ryan take me up to the rooms. Only two are currently occupied and he's taking me to the three first that are expecting guests. The other two will be vacant later this morning and cleaned by the afternoon.
We step into a blue and gold room first.
"Seriously, this place is incredible," I tell him.
"Yeah," he concurs. "You'd think it'd be in a magazine or on tv or something. It's amazing."
I nod in agreement getting to work. I photograph the queen sized bed with the creamy white canopy draperies and cornflower blue bedding. I turn around and back up, taking a shot with the seated area. There's a blue filigree love seat and chair set with an embellished bulbous chalk painted dresser. A golden ornate mirror sits above that. The crown moulding with the egg-and-dart pattern surrounding the room appears to be covered in gold leaf. I take a few close up shots of those types of details, like that of the medallion design on the rug.
Ryan leads me to the bathroom and it's just as beautiful as the red room, although it's a little smaller. The shades in here are baby blue, black, and white. The wall has square blue tiles, the floor is white tile with a black diamond shape between each. The tub is black on the exterior with a white interior. The shower head and fixtures are golden. The sink is an ornate pedestal with a small golden mirror that resembles the bedroom one. I photograph it all using a wide-angle lens since this space is a little tighter than the bedroom but it does look nice. I turn around and notice the toilet is typical.
"Should I add it in there?" I wonder aloud.
"I wouldn't bother," Ryan says. "I'd only showcase the rooms and impressive amenities—at least that's what Ethyl told the previous artist."
"What happened there?" I ask gently since it almost sounds like they took the money and ran.
He explains and it sounds like they just didn't know what they were doing, either that or they didn't have a good work ethic. I nod in understanding and we move on to the next room.
We go to Jai's old room. It's easy to photograph since it's so magnificent and spacious. I stare at the sofa remembering our conversation there and how much I miss him.
"So what was he like?" Ryan asks me.
I shrug, "Fun, funny, kind, interesting, exotic, different than anyone else I've known."
He nods in understanding.
"So he went on a mission trip, though?" he asks as I photograph the seated area.
"I honestly think my pastor made a mistake, spoke too much, and there was a big misunderstanding," I admit. "We were the only... um... caucasian people there. I'm sure Jai looked familiar to him, so he assumed we knew each other."
He laughs at that. Then he calms down and laughs again.
"Yeah, it was pretty ridiculous, but pretty amazing, too," I admit setting up to photograph the bed. "Is it real that people believe this place is haunted?"
"Some do," he nods.
"Can I open the window?" I inquire.
"Sure," he shrugs. "It's close to 60 degrees outside today."
I open the window and there's a gentle breeze blowing the sheer curtains. I set up my tripod and lower the shutter speed. I take the picture as the wind gently pushes the curtains further into the room.
"Did you just take two pictures?" Ryan asks.
"No, one long one," I say checking the image.
He peeks over my shoulder. "That is so cool," he says. "You made it look like a ghost is in here."
I smile at how he likes that photography trick. "It's a fun effect with waterfalls and people in crowds, too," I tell him.
"You really know your stuff, huh?" he questions amazed.
"Well, you picked an employable field. We'll see if I succeed," I tell him. "There's a reason why they call them starving artists."
"Are you really having that much trouble?" he asks worriedly.
"No," I tell him waving a hand dismissively. "It's just kind of hard to make it in the field. I just saw a fellow classmate of mine last night who applied to the same gallery as me. He was rejected. I kind of feel bad that they gave me the whole exhibit now but he was rejected before I submitted the last batch. They were going to take part of my work but not his. I gave him some advice though for the future."
"That's awfully nice of you," he says softly.
"Thanks," I smile.
I shut the window and photograph the amazing bathroom before we move on to the green room. The walls are a bright green—somewhere between mint and lime. The hue gives the space a relaxing feel. The room has a four post bed with a spiral design swirling up each white post painted with golden accents. The bedding is cream and ivory with some emerald colored decorative pillows. The windows have long paisley drapes with a swooping arched valence at the top of each and long tassels hanging down from them. I decide to give this room a different sort of vibe than the last room. I set the tripod up again and use an even longer shutter speed to make the room caste a warm glow from the daylight beaming in the massive windows. There are a couple dust motes in the air and I'm excited when I hear the click to see the image. I view it and I'm happy with what I see.
"Oh, wow," Ryan says in astonishment.
"Yeah, I wasn't expecting it to look that good. The light just kind of burst in there when the shutter opened," I say happily.
I get back to focusing on capturing the rest of the room. The armoire is Queen Anne style along with the dresser. I'm not sure about the trunk at the foot of the bed but I photograph all of the furniture together. I just use a standard picture because I'm showing details here, not effects. I photograph the seated area with its pair of Louis XVI style chairs and a velvet rolled arm sofa. I turn around and get a detail of the ornate fireplace. There are columns on either side with decorative trim and crown molding surrounding the mantle, framed art, and ceiling. I step into the bathroom and I'm just completely in awe at this gem of a place that's always been here. The white pedestal sink looks like a flower and it's absolutely an antique. The claw foot tub is white with golden feet. The rest of the bathroom is similar to the others but the soft pastel green color scheme matches well with the bedroom.
Ryan returns the three keys to the desk and gets the others. Mrs Philips asks how it's going and I show her the images so far.
"Those are incredible," she says in awe.
"Your rooms are so exquisite, that it'd be impossible to make them look bad," I insist.
She pats my cheek lovingly at the compliment. I offer to photograph her but she insists on only one with her husband in the office when I'm finished. I nod in agreement and follow Ryan to the other three that are currently vacant. One room is kind of a golden yellow. It's soft though and gorgeous. Another is a purple with deep and pastel hues. I'd have to say I absolutely love the bathroom with the lavender tiles and a hand painted mural on the bedroom wall. There's also a peach room and it's so delicate and ornate in design.
We go back to the front desk since the other two are occupied. I meet Mr Philips, shaking his hand. I photograph him along with his wife in their office. And then I come out and meet Janet, the housekeeper. She's wearing a classy maid uniform of black and white. The dress is long, like that of the traditional style, not the sexy French variety. Her costume is both modest and functional. She's holding a basket of laundry and I smile at her, introduce myself, and ask if I could photograph her. She grins and nods. I also get a picture of Ryan behind the desk. I notice all of the skeleton-type keys on hooks behind the desk. I shoot a couple pictures of the lobby area. There's even a seated area with a chessboard on the table. I finish for now and tell them I'll be back later today to capture the other two rooms.
I leave, happy to have this privilege. I pack up my gear and drive down to the river, sitting on a bench overlooking the water to eat my sack lunch and relax in the unseasonably gorgeous weather. I thank God as I enjoy the view on this perfect day. I'm so grateful that this job should cover my expenses including my stay. But I feel as if I should check with the other place I was thinking of. I decide to drive down to the more unsavory area of town and I think it'll be better at this time of day. I know it's open earlier since it's the weekend. I step in and someone approaches the desk. He smiles and says he remembers me. I smile, too, and ask him if he'd like some help getting his webpage updated. He mentions that he worked on it but he's not the best photographer. I offer to just take some pictures of climbers then. He laughs in surprise and asks me how much I charge. I tell him that I'll take them and he can give me what he feels they're worth. He appears completely taken aback by my offer and shakes my hand telling me he appreciates it. We step inside the climbing area and he speaks to his coworkers and even some of the climbers when they jump down. Everyone agrees so I photograph them all in various positions and angles. They're actually really good. I even set up my tripod for a few more artistic images. We go to the back room—their office/break room—and I put the images on his computer. He offers me a couple hundred dollars and I smile and thank him, writing up a receipt. I photograph it and we exchange business cards. His name is Quinn. I tell him to let me know if he ever expands or wants some more. He thanks me for everything and tells me he's going to work on the page when they close up for the day. I smile and wish him luck. He thanks me again and walks me to my car. I wave as I leave.
I head home and open up my computer beginning on the hotel webpage. I realize I didn't photograph the exterior of the building and I'll have to do so on my return. I start to set it up, adding links, the images, labeling the rooms. I make a page about the staff. I also put down information about things to do in the area seasonally: cross country skiing, ice fishing, the walleye run, various festivals in the area. I put links to the city pages, local events, etc. I look to my watch and figure that the last two rooms should be ready by now so I take my computer and head out. I arrive and take several exterior pictures of the building, some including the street. I step inside and wave to Ryan again. He tells me the last two rooms are ready for me. The first one is a white and cream room. My gaze is immediately drawn to a crystal chandelier hanging in the middle of the room. It's a bit smaller of the rooms but it's gorgeous. I know the style of furniture is French. I want to say it's called Picardy. The furniture is all of the same style as the bed, which I notice is a queen. The bedding is sateen with skilled embroidery across the comforter and decorative pillows. The wooden floors are dark but there's a large furry rug covering part of the room. There's a chaise lounge and another Louis XVI chair in here with matching hues. I photograph the room from various angles. The bathroom is a decent size but it's very different from the others. It has a marble built in bathtub and shower combination. It looks to have a jacuzzi style tub so I make sure to get that detail captured. The sink base looks to be a repurposed piece of furniture with a drop in sink. I see a golden floral pattern in the sink and make sure to get a detail of that as well.
I finish up and we go back upstairs to the room next to the red one. I step in and immediately notice the black, white, and lilac color pallet. My focus is immediately drawn to the black bed frame with hand carved pansies on it. The flowers have a metallic iridescent paint of teal, fuchsia, and yellow sheens to it. There are no posts but the headboard is grand and unique. The bedding is black and simple and it makes the bed frame the center of attention. I get a detail of the frame and the rest of the room is in line with the others—gorgeous, unique, and antique. The bathroom has a similar set up to the red bathroom with the antique toilet and other fixtures. I photograph it all and we go downstairs.
In the office, I show the owners what I've prepared so far. They're surprised I've done everything so well and quickly at that. I thank them and ask what details they'd like added—room names, amenities, and the like. I make note of the room names and everything else. I ask about local things to do—what they'd like added to the list. They thank me for thinking of something like that and request that I add two local historical parks. I nod and add them to my checklist. We iron out the details and I tell them I'll probably have everything ready soon. They thank me again and walk me to the door. I shake their hands and promise to be back soon, probably Monday. They seem overwhelmed by the timing but I know I can get it done. It's possibly because I'm my father's daughter and I know my way around a computer. I just prefer the more artistic approach rather than security. I wave as I leave and head home. I sigh in relief and I'm grateful about my blessings... but my thoughts drift back to Jai. It was really tough being in his old room. I had to try so hard not to dwell on him. At one point, I thought I'd cry in front of Ryan. My heart aches at the memories of him...
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Who You Say I Am (A Jai Courtney Fanfic)
FanfictionMegan goes on a missionary trip to forget about her ex-fiancé. She runs into a famous celebrity who's also suffering from a very recent break-up. Will they comfort each other and find companionship together? #1 missionary 9/2/22, 10/13/22, 4/16/23...