Gallery of Hearts

Chapter 4

Saturday morning rolls around and I wake up early. I can't tell if it's excitement or nerves that woke me out of my sleep. I won't complain since it gives me more time to get ready. I start with an everything shower and feel so much better when I step out. I blow dry my hair, which just makes my arms hurt and my body overheat, but it's so worth it when I look like I came straight from the salon. I pull open my bedroom window to let a little breeze in. I change into a long, floral summer dress that's white with blue flowers before sitting back at my desk/vanity to do my makeup. I dab on concealer, some bronzer, blush, and mascara. I put on a clear lip gloss and stick it in my purse when I'm done applying. I check the time. 11:20. I'll go to the subway now, I'd rather be early than late. I say my goodbyes to Sunny and run out the door.

                                                                                        ♡

I approach the small gallery and step closer to the wall so everyone walking can pass me. I tap my phone for the time. 11:54. He shouldn't be much longer. I decide to keep my head in my phone going through different socials and texting Hannah.

"Hey there," I hear someone say behind me. I quickly turn around and smile.

"Hi." I can't get any other words out, I almost feel shy. He's wearing black dress pants and a light blue button down that fits him just right. I feel his eyes scan me.

"You look so nice," he whispers with his stupid warm smile. I can almost feel myself blush. I can't let this get to his head. The 'I go to galleries and pretend to not get art to pick up girls' act won't cut it for me.

"You clean up nicely," I say straightening myself out. He opens the door and puts a hand out letting me through first.

The gallery is beautiful. It has oak wood floors and white walls. Soft lighting glows over each exhibit. There weren't many people inside, each moving quietly as they appreciate the art on the walls. I turn to Oliver and he looks back at me. "Lead the way, Ivy." I don't even know where to start. We just cling to the wall and follow along all the paintings to lap around the gallery. We jump from topic to topic as we walk. We open up about everything from childhood pets, to embarrassing high school memories, to strange subway encounters, and more. We talked about our hometowns as well. Oliver grew up in Manhattan, a city boy from the start. I told him about Michigan and how I haven't been back since I left for college.

"Wow that's a long time Miss Bennett."

"Tell me about it. I've left my best friend there too."

"It sounds like such a nice place. What's stopping you from returning?"

"All my dreams are here. I guess I just thought that going back meant I was giving up on them. Especially if I went back without a single success."

"You graduated college didn't you?"

"Pratt Institute," I say proudly.

"There's your success Bennett. Not everyone does that."

"That feels like the bare minimum to me. I want my art to be seen and shared. I want it to be hung in galleries and restaurants."

"I get it. Expectations are high."

"Exactly." We pause and just look at each other for a few seconds. "Although I'm flying home next week for my best friend's wedding," I continue. "So 6 years no more." I find myself looking down now as if it hides me from the embarrassment of opening up and getting a little "below the surface" with someone I haven't known for long. "But enough about me. What about you? College? Dreams?"

"I went to NYU." Wow. I wait for more but I have to drag it out of him.

"So you're insanely smart. What did you major in?"

"I went to NYU's Tisch School of the Arts. I majored in art." I can feel myself instantly fall in love. "So you do paint?" I get a little louder. I don't know if I'm excited or upset that he didn't offer that up first.

"I told you I dabble in it," he says shrugging his shoulders.

"You don't go to NYU to dabble, Oliver. You're talented. Now I have to see your art." 

"Only if I get to see yours."

"Deal," I say and stick my hand out. His warm hand covers mine and my heart races. I quickly pull away and turn. We walk to the last exhibit in the gallery. It had paintings of gardens, forests, lakes, and animals.

"Now these are nice," Oliver says. "I'd rather see sunsets by rivers than dark storms."

"Storms can be beautiful too," I respond. "The rain they bring waters the Earth, which allows plants to grow. Without all the darkness...there just wouldn't be beauty." I see Oliver looking down at the floor deep in thought. His already dark features feel even darker. "Oliver?" He looks back up.

"Aren't some storms...just storms?" I pause.

"No. I don't think so." I respond. I can see a small smile form on his face.

"How about that coffee now?" he says snapping back to his bright personality.

"Yes please."

                                                                                         ♡

We step outside and he pushes me to the inside of the sidewalk as we head to the café. I feel the butterflies in my stomach. It's like we connected instantly today. He feels so close to me. I get so lost in our conversation I don't even notice the other people around us, we feel like the only two in the world. His laugh is the best. It's one that would bring a smile to everyone's face and force you to laugh with him, even if you don't know what it's about.

The coffee shop is only a few blocks from the gallery. We grab a table and he says he'll get our drinks. As he's in line, I stare out the window. My thoughts are racing. I keep replaying certain things he said, his warm smile, and the fact that he's been a painter this whole time. So he's not oblivious to art, he just hates dark pictures. He hates Valor Rignet. In the corner of my eye I see Oliver put the drinks down so I bring my focus back to the present. We continue chatting and I tell him about the exhibit I'm going to have in SoSpec. He seems impressed and congratulates me. We sit quietly for a few seconds before he breaks the silence.

"So what day are you flying home?" 

"I'm flying out on Friday."

"Do you know how long you'll be gone?"

"Miss my company already?" I laugh.

"No I'm just wondering how long you'll be missing me," he adds with a smile.

"I'll be fine. I'll be back for Monday anyways."

"Nice," he says taking a sip of his coffee. "Are you free this upcoming Monday?" I smile. He's already planning to see me again.

"I may be."

"I thought we could take a trip to Central Park. There's this one garden that I love to go to. I think you'd like it too. We can meet by the Vanderbilt Gate," he suggests without breaking eye contact. My heart is doing backflips now.

"I would love to." He's a garden guy? He's a garden guy. I'm dying here.

We finish our coffee and part ways again. I had the whole journey home to think about him, and so I did. This random man from a gallery and he has taken over my mind. Does he even think about me this much? Is this just a friendship thing and I'm overreacting? Before I can spiral any more I've got my hand on my apartment door and I enter a different train of thought: paint. I go back to the wedding picture from last Saturday and package it to be sent off to the couple. I love the way it turned out. I put it next to my door for the next time I have to go out. I change into more comfortable clothes and lie on my bed. As soon as my head hits the pillow, I crash with Sunny between my arms.