The Night That Changed It All

Will It Happen?

"Dad, guess what!" Lily Ann exclaimed excitedly, immediately when she came running out of the community center after one of her art classes. This week, it was my turn to pick her up while Liam stayed at home with Cathal, who was now ten weeks old.

"You've started on sculpting with the Senior Group?" I asked; absolutely clueless as I tried to remember if it was this week she'd told us she would be doing that. Lily Ann had excelled at the painting section that the Junior Arts Group had started on, because she'd been painting for a while, so her arts teacher told her that she could just do sculpting with the Senior Group when they started with that if she wanted to.

Of course she was more than ecstatic at the idea and agreed immediately.

"No; that's next week. I'll be going to Arts later in the day doing that anyway, remember?" Lily Ann reminded with a laugh as we made our way to the car, and, after a second, I did remember her telling me that when I'd asked her about it this morning.

"Oh yeah." I laughed as I got into the car. I'd hardly been able to remember anything this week because of lack of sleep due to the amount of times Cathal had woken in the night so I really appreciated how patient Lily Ann was being with me.

"No, this is something different. Mrs. Jones knows someone who's helping a gallery in London to find art work to put up for display. She really liked my last painting and she said she asked him to come down and see it." Lily Ann explained with a grin that seemed to take over her whole face. She was so happy, I could almost feel the delight radiating off of her. "I might get one of my paintings displayed in an actually gallery in London!"

"Lily Ann, that's amazing!" I exclaimed when this information had sunk in and I finally managed to process what that meant for her. Once we'd stopped at a red light in town, I pulled her into a tight hug; not letting go until the person behind us beeped their horn because the light had turned green again. 

"Whoops." Lily Ann giggled, practically jumping in her seat as she explained that, in all forms of art, she would be one of the youngest people to have their work displayed in a gallery. I couldn't help but think of Sylvia Plath, who was a poet I'd studied in fifth year and who had first published a poem in a newspaper at the age of eight. Lily Ann was only two years older than that.

"When will you know for definite about it?" I asked as we pulled up in front of the house, turning to Lily Ann with a grin that almost matched hers. I couldn't believe this was happening and almost had to pinch myself to make sure it wasn't a dream.

"Well, he's coming down on Tuesday so she said she'd call us when he told her what he thought of it. She said she might even make him tell me if the news is good so I can feel more professional; like a real artist." Lily Ann explained, putting on a regal imitation towards the end that did actually sound very like Mrs. Jones, who sounded very posh a large amount of the time.

Without the playful imitation, Lily Ann had an interesting mix of both mine and Liam's accents, since neither of us had let go of our accents. Mine wasn't as rough as it used to be and Liam's was a bit rougher than his used to be but, for the most part, we sounded the same. Lily Ann had picked up on both and gotten the best parts of them, along with a few of the worst bits.

Her friends used to tease her about it but she'd just brush it off and say it was a reflection of her heritage, which she was very proud of. I was paraphrasing, of course; at five years old, she didn't even know what heritage meant and definitely didn't use it in casual conversation with her friends.

"But you are a real artist." I exclaimed jokingly, making Lily Ann laugh before we both got out of the car; still grinning together. As we walked up the front path, I turned to her to say; "We'll be waiting right by the phone, of course."