Ambivalence

The Cat's Meow

Camila

A week had gone by without Lauren and I speaking, or seeing each other, for that matter. After that night, we did our best to avoid each other. It rained almost every day, and it was just easier to put a hood up or hide under an umbrella until I was safely in my apartment. I wasn't sure why I kept thinking about her. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her: laughing at me, or helping me, or just listening. What I missed most of all was her just being there and listening. I felt bad that even though I didn't mean to be judgmental, I often came off so. I couldn't help it, but that wasn't really an excuse either.

I could see her today.

Why do I care?

Because I need to apologize.

"Camila, you made it."

The sound of Mrs. Jauregui's voice pulled me out of my mental battle. She wore a nice, simple beige dress under a white coat, with her gray-auburn hair pinned back. "I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get back to you about this mural—"

"It's fine, I wasn't expecting you to drop everything and come straight over to me. How are you, my dear?"

"I'm well, thank you. I was wondering, should I call you Mrs. Jauregui, or Dr. Jauregui?" She was the chairwoman after all, and she was wearing a white coat.

"Whichever makes you more comfortable. Please, let me show you where I would like the mural." She turned to lead the way.

I followed, closing the distance as we walked. I found my eyes shifting from the nurses, doctors, and patients, to the floors and walls, the different blues, whites, and grays.

Like Lauren's apartment. I snickered at that. I was right; she had set up her apartment to match the hospital. I wonder if she even realized it. Why do I care?

"Camila, did you hear me?"

Crap. "No, I'm sorry, what were you saying? And please, call me Mila."

Nodding, she repeated herself. "I asked, have you thought of anything to put up? Or done a mural before?"

"Yes, I have done a few, but never for a hospital. My first work was painting a mural at my high school; I think it is still up. I probably won't know what to paint for a while, and my ideas might even change, unless you have thought of something?"

"Sadly, no." She frowned, crossing her arms as we stopped before a large black and white wall with the hospital logo hanging on it. "For years, I've walked past here always feeling like something is missing. It's so cold, but I can never think of what should be here instead. So if you have any ideas at all, I'll leave it up to you."

Having a client tell you to 'do whatever' was both an artist's dream and worst nightmare. Yes, it gave me creative freedom, but what if they hated it? Stepping forward, I ran my hands across the wall before looking up.

"Is it too big? You don't have to cover the whole wall—"

 "No, it's fine. I think I can manage, but I will really have to think about this for a couple of days and sketch. And I have two requests."

"Okay."

"The first: do you mind if I walk around the hospital for a while, just to get ideas? I'll do my best to stay out of everyone's way. I usually take photos, but I realize that might be a problem here."

She thought for a moment before nodding. "That's fine, but please be mindful. And your second request?"

"Would it be possible for me to put up a sheet or something?"