Who You Say I Am (A Jai Courtney Fanfic)

Chapter 101-Meg

Meg

I arrive at church Sunday morning, first in as usual. I open the door and turn on the lights. I prepare the hospitality section for the service—making the coffee. I see some muffins in the fridge and I set them out on a tray. I open the freezer to see if there's anything else and I notice that it's completely frosted over. There's even some items buried in ice. I try to pull them out but it's no use. I'll have to see when I'm free to take care of that. I wash my hands and pour out the coffee as I prepare my voice for singing. I hand a few people cups of coffee before the worship team arrives. Mrs Johnson arrives and takes over for me so I can sing. I thank her for that. We practice all of the songs and then pray afterward over the set. Alexandra asks if she could speak to me privately for a moment and I agree. We step back into a storage room. She looks really nervous.
"Did something happen?" I ask her worriedly.
"It's just that... I know Pastors Gill and Ben asked you to replace me if we leave," she starts. "But the truth is, I honestly don't want to take the job. It's more money but my husband would have to get a new job. I'd have to put my kids in a different school mid-year and it just doesn't feel right," she explains with a shrug.
"So, you're thinking about staying?" I ask her.
She guiltily nods.
I sigh in somewhat relief. "It's honestly not a problem," I tell her. "I only kind of took the offer because Pastor Ben thought it would be perfect for me."
"Really?" she says surprised. She looks relieved, too. "But I thought you just lost your job."
"Well, I gave my notice but they rehired me again part-time. It's actually temporary but I may be able to get another position there. I've actually kind of stepped out in my degree area recently. I've got an art show at a gallery coming up and I've done a little freelance artwork," I admit.
"That's fantastic," she says in awe. "Congratulations." She hugs me and I hug her back.
"It's no problem if you decide to stay," I tell her. "I believe God has different plans for me."
She smiles and thanks me. We step out and worship together. During prayer, I thank God again for everything he's been doing. As ask him to continue to guide my life in the direction of his will.
The service is encouraging and I go home with a smile on my face. I decide to take another look at the web design and edit it a bit more before bringing it in the morning. I look online for matting and framing supplies. They are pricey. I figure that I'll look through the newspaper for coupons and I go to a few stores. I see several frames in a bargain bin. I check my list I made of proportions I need and there are enough for my drawings in the bin as well as my random items. I tally up the price and with my coupon, I should have enough cash for these. For the rest of my series I'll need better looking and matching frames and mats. These will be for miscellaneous artwork so they're fine. I purchase the frames and take them home setting them aside.
I go to work Monday morning. I teach the high impact class, watch the desk, and then head to the hotel as quickly as I can with my finished product. I even found the time late on Saturday night to make them a file for flyers for their desk. There's a template so it's easy to change if they want to put something else in in the future. I bring everything I've done to the hotel and meet with the owners. I set up their webpage and they're overjoyed when it's fully up and running.
They cut me a check and thank me for my tremendous service. I shake their hands in staggering disbelief at this reality. I thank them again and deposit the check in the bank. I'm informed that the check has cleared since the account is at the same location and I smile in amazement. I decide it's time to go shopping at the craft store but stop at home first to see if my mom will let me borrow her SUV. She easily agrees since she's done for the day.
I step into the store excitedly since they're open today and I go straight back to the framing department. I see fifty percent off signs in the department for frames and shadow boxes. I smile in disbelief and select my quantity. I take their entire inventory of two sizes and ask an employee if he has more in the back. He checks and finds a case each but I still need more. He offers to call another store. I decide to ask about mats as well and he shows me their options. I select a stark white with a white core and also get some foam core and acid free mounting tape. I need a little more of the mats, frames, and shadow boxes. The employee calls the closest store to check their stock. I grin when he comes back nodding that the items have been pulled for me. I almost want to hug him but I restrain myself. He assists me in carrying my order to the checkout and then helps me load up the SUV. I shake his hand in thanks and he slips something into my hand, smiles, and goes back inside. I look at it to see it's his business card... and also his phone number. I stand in shock for a moment before I put it in my coat pocket. I shake my head in a daze and drive off to the other store. I pick up the rest of my supplies and head home to drop everything off but the mats.
I go to the lab and put a new blade into the mat cutter. I have a few extra in case I mess up but I carefully measure and cut my mats. I do ruin the first one. Most of them go well and I continue on only making minute mistakes on a few. Gratefully the rest look perfect. I wrap them up to keep them clean and load them back up into my mom's SUV.
When I get home, I put an old tablecloth on the dining room table and begin an assembly line for mounting and framing my artwork. My parents stand in the doorway together watching me.
"Do you need any help, dear?" my mom offers.
"No, I'm good," I tell her. "I'll probably go to the post office tomorrow and see what my options are for shipping, though."
"When were you thinking?" she asks.
"Between my morning shift at the YMCA and the evening at the lab," I say. "I'm not sure how they'll handle all of this."
My dad steps away while my mom observes me matting and framing the black and white prints. Those are the easiest. My dad comes in a moment later with his phone in hand.
"What's that Daddy?" I ask him.
He shows me a local place near his dry cleaners that ships art professionally. They use wooden crates and quality packing materials. They are the ones who handle the freight and not the post office or other typical services.
"This looks expensive," I mumble.
"It probably is but they will handle that glass with care. The post office and others have been known to destroy or lose things. I'd get the quality service. This is who delivered the art for my office when we opened," he tells me.
"Alright. I'll figure out what I have and send them a message tonight," I tell him. He smiles at me and kisses the top of my head.
I start on my cyanotypes and mount my school project first. I cut some foam core and attach it to a plain white mat. Then I attach my prints to the foam. I smile as it floats within the frame. I set the mat around it with a bit of foam core as well behind it. I set everything in the glass and frame, then putting the back on it. I smile at how impressive and professional it looks. I continue on with that whole series. Then I move onto the ones of me. I see the expression and utter anguish I felt. I still feel that but I'm a little numb. I just need some time. Maybe there will be a day in the future that I don't cry about him. I wipe a tear with my hand and step aside so I don't ruin them. I wipe my eyes with a tissue and blow my nose. I wash my hands and try to calm my breathing. I return to the images and robotically complete the mounting. I have the entire room, floors and all surfaces stacked with framed art. My drawings and even my sculptures are in here. I pick up the garbage and tools, breaking down boxes and tidying up. I send an email with pictures, quantities and dimensions to the art freight shop and wait for a response.
I step upstairs and see my mom in the craft room. She's looking at the blue fabric. "I think you should wear that one for you opening night," she says.
I smile and nod. "I think you're right. Let's get to work," I reply.