First Friday, page 9
Chapter 20
Agatha met Dean for a quick dinner the next evening before her ceramics class.
They had decided to meet at one of Carla’s other enterprises, a diner with a 60’s theme, complete with jukebox and pinball machines that was popular with the university students.
“I like this place,” Dean said, settling into the booth. He was wearing a new leather jacket, and tossed a little package on the tabletop, sliding it towards Agatha.
“What’s this for?” she asked.
“Just a little something. I’ve had a good run recently.”
She opened the box. Inside were a pair of supple leather riding gloves, dark brown with red accents. “Wow, thank you. I love them!”
He grinned, “I’ve been doing pretty well for myself lately and thought you could use a pair of these.”
Agatha noticed Barbara, the woman with the denim overalls from her ceramics class walk through the room to the back of the restaurant. She was wearing black pants and a white button up shirt, her hennaed hair braided down her back, minus the handkerchief she usually sported.
“Thanks,” she said, turning back to Dean. “How’s the Porsche coming?”
“All right. I’ve been alternating that job with another local one, so I had to spread the work out a bit, but I finished it up yesterday. The Porsche needed a lot of attention, but it’s a beauty now. Good to go. And I’m glad to be done with it, to be honest. I wasn’t crazy about the owner.” He changed the topic. “How about ceramics class? Got a new group of students?”
“Yeah, it’s going well. I love teaching those classes. Actually, that woman who just walked by happens to be one of my students this quarter. It’s funny to run into them around town sometimes, but it happens.’
‘I’ve just been balancing a lot in my schedule lately though, with Stephen’s little league practices and games and everything on top of both jobs. At least Patrick covers a couple of days, but it’s still mostly me,” she said, looking directly at Dean. “Sometimes it’s still hard not having a partner. Someone who’s just there to help balance things out a little, you know?”
“Yeah. I imagine so,” Dean shifted slightly in his seat, avoiding her gaze. Talk of her son or any hint of a conversation around a conventional relationship made him uneasy. She could sense it immediately. So, she let it go. Dean was what he was. They had what they had together.
“I’m looking forward to trying these out,” she said, putting the gloves back in their wrapping.
He smiled, “Yeah. They’re pretty nice, huh?”
She nodded, putting the lid back on the box for safekeeping.
“They must have been expensive?” she said, giving him a searching look.
He shrugged his shoulders mysteriously and winked.
Chapter 21
Agatha read the email from Charlie a second time, wondering to herself what in the world he could be talking about. She had never suggested to him that she should read the chapters on Hildegard von Bingen ahead of publication. But here he was ostensibly responding to an email that he said she’d written to him and had wanted to get back to her about to let her know that of course, he would be happy to have her feedback on the chapters.
It was very strange. She responded that she appreciated his confidence in her, but she had never written the email nor asked to read the chapters, (although she was looking forward to buying his book once it was published). Was he sure the email had been from her and not someone else?
She set her computer aside and took out her notes. Agatha liked to take care of paperwork and emails while still in the office, just to avoid taking anything home with her in the evenings. That time was for Stephen, or for her second job at the studio on the off evenings, which is where she was headed tonight.
On Tuesdays, a babysitter came for a couple of hours, and on Thursdays Stephen stayed over at his father’s. It was Thursday and she decided that she would stop by the grocery store and get some food from the deli before heading over to the studio for her class that evening.
The students had been working their way through the series of platonic solids and they were going to move on to the dodecahedron tonight. Twelve sides, her favorite of the platonic solids. She was really enjoying the process of leading them through the different forms and their transformations.
Agatha closed and locked up her file drawer and went out to the front room. Asha was watering the plants in the waiting area.
“Ready for next Friday?” Agatha asked her.
“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it. I hope we’ll have a good turn out,” Asha said.
“Me, too. I’ve been telling everyone about it and hoping they’ll spread the word.”
“Yup, that’s the idea, isn’t it? I’ve put a few fliers up around town, too, so hopefully we’ll draw a few new people in.”
“I kind of expect it to be a lot of regulars somehow, though.”
“That’s the way these things usually go,” Asha agreed. “But it’s even been advertised on the website and social media, so we’ll see,” she said hopefully, putting the empty watering canister back in the cupboard. “It’s not a large space here, so we can consider it successful even if we get a small steady stream coming throughout the afternoon.”
“It’ll be good no matter what,” said Agatha. “I’m excited to have the artwork displayed.”
“How’s the collection coming along?”
“Really good. I’m still collecting a few pieces from students, but I’ve got mine all picked out.”
“Awesome. I can’t wait to see all the artwork.”
Agatha picked up her bag. “Time to head out to the next gig. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good, hon.”
She stopped at the deli for a salad, which she brought along to the studio. It was a beautiful afternoon, sunny and temperate, so she decided to sit outside on a bench to eat her dinner before the students began to arrive. It was a quiet street around the block from a busier thoroughfare, and she enjoyed the peacefulness of a half hour to herself before it was time to head inside to set up for her alchemy class, as she liked to think of it these days.
Barbara, the woman who always wore denim to class, whether it was overalls or jeans and a jacket, was the first to arrive, just as Agatha was making her way inside the classroom.
“Can I help you set up?” Barbara asked.
“Sure, thanks. Those boards can be set out on the tables,” she said while pulling out the large bag of clay from the cupboard. “I saw you at Greenway the other day when I was having lunch with my friend there. Do you work there?”
“Oh, yes, I’m the floor manager,” Barbara said.
“I know the owner, Carla. Her new place, Blaze is amazing.”
“Her new place was going to be my place,” Barbara said.
Agatha turned towards her in surprise. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, the whole idea for “slow food/fast music, sustainable fair, etc.” That was all my vision, but Carla had the resources and took off with my ideas.”
She finished setting the boards along the row of tables. “That woman is a piece of work – she really irks me, but she’s still my employer, so I probably shouldn’t talk like that.”
Agatha wasn’t sure how to respond, but Barbara changed the subject anyway.
“I saw your name on the office door of the place where I go for massage sometimes,” Barbara said.
“Oh, yeah, I’m an LMFT and massage therapist by day, artist by night. Do you see Stacey there?”
“Yes, she’s fantastic,” Barbara said.
“She has good hands, doesn’t she?” Agatha agreed. “Do you know we’re part of the First Friday event next weekend? We’ll have an open house all afternoon, with complimentary treatments and refreshments and all that.”
“Stacey mentioned it to me last week, yes. I think I might stop in and bring a friend,” Barbara said. “I want to check out the art exhibit you’ve got going. Mostly your work, right?”
“Mine and the work of a few of my previous students. It would be great to see you there.”
“Any chance you’re still looking for contributions for the exhibit?” Barbara asked hopefully.
“Possibly,” Agatha looked at her with interest.
“I’m a painter. Mostly abstract. Here,” she said, pulling out her phone. “I’ve got a bunch of examples of my work.”
Agatha leaned over the phone’s screen to look. She liked Barbara’s use of color right away.
“That one is beautiful,” she said, looking at a canvas that could have been a sunrise or a sunset, with all the yellows, orange and blues swirling into each other.
“This might be just the thing we need to complete the collection. I mean, my work is mostly clay and ceramics, of course, but I wanted to feature some paintings as well. Would you be interested in including something?”
“Absolutely! Oh, that would be amazing,” Barbara’s face lit up.
“Let’s talk after class and maybe we can find a time for me to come by and see some of your work. We could pick out a couple of paintings to include together.”
“That sounds fantastic. Thank you!”
The other students began to arrive, and Agatha set a generous clump of clay on each board, ready to lead the students through the formation of the dodecahedron. She knew that there may be some challenging moments for the class during the next two hours and that during the next class, when they would shapeshift the dodecahedron into an icosahedron, she might even lose the participation of a few students. It took some real perseverance to make it through the whole series, but it was well worth the effort, she thought, to experience the geometrical possibilities of the clay with your own hands, how it could be something both solid and fluid at the same time.
Chapter 22
Unless it was the height of tourist season, you couldn’t really go anywhere in Santa Cruz without running into someone you knew. Even though it was technically a small city, the neighborhoods were intimate, and the locals all had their favorite spots, so generally, wherever you went, there was someone you recognized.
Agatha walked along West Cliff, as she often did before heading into work, and noticed the bartender from Blaze climbing up the access to the beach in his wetsuit, his surfboard tucked under one arm. She didn’t say hello as she passed because she didn’t think he’d recognize her. He would’ve served drinks to hundreds of people night after night, after all.
But her pace slowed suddenly when she followed the curve in the path around the next corner and saw Carla and Dean standing close together about twenty feet up ahead. Carla leaned in towards Dean, smiling and saying something to him, her hand resting suggestively on his arm.
Dean spotted Agatha as she approached and pulled back from Carla, waving at her as he did so. Carla turned around and maybe it was Agatha’s imagination, but she thought Carla’s face registered disappointment for a split second before breaking into a wide smile.
“Well, hello there, doctor. I just ran into your man here.”
Agatha walked up and joined them, also forcing a smile, because for once she didn’t feel like being warm and friendly.
“I’m not a doctor, Carla,” she said. “And he,” she added, indicating Dean, “is not exactly ‘my man.’ I didn’t know you’d be out here this morning,” she said, addressing her last comment to Dean.
“Oh, I would’ve texted you to join me – I know this is your favorite spot to stroll, but I thought you started early today.”
“I usually do, but that first appointment of the day doesn’t always get booked, so here I am.”
Carla watched them both with interest.
“Well, I for one need to be off,” she said. “I’d better see you two back at Blaze before long. And I’ll schedule with you again soon,” she added, addressing Agatha.
“Of course. See you soon, Carla,” said Agatha.
“Bye, Dean,” Carla winked at him and departed.
“How’s it going?” Dean asked her, with just the slightest bit of palpable discomfort as he looked at her, Agatha thought.
“I’m fine. It’s funny, I just saw the bartender from Blaze back there, too. Everybody seems to be here.”
“Cool,” said Dean. “You want to know something funny? That dude, the bartender? He used to sell me weed.”
Agatha shot Dean a glance. “Seriously?”
“I know, funny, right? It was a few years ago. Back in my smoking days,” he clarified. “Hey, do you want to come with me to get some coffee?”
“Sure, I have about half an hour still. Maybe I’ll have a tea or something. I’ve already had my quota of caffeine this morning.”
“Let’s do it,” he said, taking her hand.
She relaxed as they walked together. They entered a small café that sat back across the street from the footpath and the water.
“Grab us a table,” Dean said. “What do you want me to order you?”
“I’ll just have a mint tea,” she answered, scouting out a small table in the corner.
A few minutes later Dean joined her, carrying a mug in each hand, and set them on the table. He sat down and drew in his breath.
“I have a confession to make, Agatha. I did something I shouldn’t have. And it’s been weighing on me.” Dean looked at Agatha with uncharacteristic apprehension and smiled nervously.
Her heart sank. This was it, she thought. He was going to tell her that he was seeing someone else. She found herself dreading who it might be even more than whether it was true at all.
“And at the same time, I keep telling myself it’s no big deal. But I think it is. It’s not my style. It just sort-of happened.”
Agatha looked at him with growing curiosity and concern.
“What do you mean? What is it?” she prompted. “And do things ever ‘just happen? Is this about Carla?” she asked with a brave but strained smile.
“No! I just ran into her. I promise, you don’t have to worry about that. Don’t get me wrong, that woman is gorgeous, but I’m not interested, too messy.”
Dean took Agatha’s hand and looked at her, then shifted uneasily in his seat. “The truth is I, well, I sort-of unofficially blackmailed someone.”
“What?” Agatha exclaimed, pulling back her hand, completely caught off guard.
“Okay, not exactly, not really,” he held up his hand as if protesting the thought, “but the other day I saw and heard something compromising and I agreed that I wouldn’t talk if the person gifted me some money. It took me by surprise, and I just sort of agreed in the moment.”
Agatha drew back, looking dubious.
“It was his suggestion, not my proposition,” Dean attempted to reassure her. “But I took the bribe. And now I feel weird about it.”
Agatha shook her head in disbelief. “Seriously? What were you thinking?”
“Yeah, I know, I’m not very comfortable with it. But I took his offer all the same. What else was I going to do? And now here I am talking about it with you because my conscience is getting the better of me. It’s not sitting well.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Agatha replied. “Is it about something serious? You either have to tell me more, give me more details, or why tell me at all? Is it a legal thing, or a private matter? What in the world would you accept a bribe from someone about?”
“Shhh,” Dean said, grinning sheepishly and glancing around the room. “Seriously, it’s not as bad as you think.”
“Oh, my god,” she said suddenly, thinking of the leather gloves. “Is that what the frivolous purchases have been about?”
She folded her arms across her chest, noticing with consternation that Carla was now standing in line, having somehow followed them inside, and although Carla looked the other way, pretending not to see them, Agatha was keenly aware once again of her interest in Dean and assumed that she had observed Agatha’s charged conversation with him just now. Well, it was no surprise that that woman was drawn to him. The two of them were probably more alike than she cared to admit.
She had been so surprised by what Dean had shared that she had forgotten to feel relieved that his confession hadn’t been what she’d dreaded it might be.
“To be clear, like I said, I wasn’t the one to suggest it,” Dean tried to clarify again. “This person, who will remain unnamed, noticed that I noticed something, and offered to pay me not to divulge it to anyone. Not that I would even know who to tell. I mean, the whole thing is a little bizarre. I’m not going to give you any details or say who it is. I’m just trying to relieve my conscience and reassure myself that I’m not a crook. I mean you’re the therapist, Agatha. Help me out.”
“Uh-uh. Not when it comes to my own relationships or the people I care about,” she protested. “I can’t be your therapist, Dean.”
“Okay, okay, but hear me out. I feel like I’ve entered into this weird contract, which I had no intention of doing, and I’m not liking it. It feels shady and it really wasn’t my doing.”
“It was if you took the money. And how can you say something like this and then not tell me more about it? I’m only going to wonder what it could have been about. And at the same time, you’re absolutely right, I don’t want to know.”
Dean stood up. “I’ll try to explain more without giving anything away. I need to run to the bathroom, though. I’ll be right back, okay?” he said, excusing himself. He made his way across the crowded room to the back hall where the bathrooms were, passing Carla without even seeing her.
Agatha leaned back into the cushioned booth, her hands slowly turning the warm mug of tea in a circle. What was she doing, she thought to herself? It was all well and good in theory, this freedom to love someone without being tied down by a conventional relationship, but in reality, having an open relationship didn’t give her any benefits if she wasn’t interested in dating multiple people herself, and frankly, she was not. She didn’t have the emotional energy to be with more than one person. But here she was giving Dean permission to do his thing, whatever that was.
