Piecing Me Together(49)
“Well,” Mom says. “I guess they do.” She smiles so big, bigger than any smile I’ve seen on her face in a long while. “Our little artist is doing big things, huh, Maxine?”
I like that she said our, like she’s okay with sharing me.
Mom goes to the kitchen. “Maxine, you been using any of those skills I taught you?”
“Well, you see, what happened was—”
“No excuses,” Mom says, laughing and shaking her head.
Maxine and I go to the kitchen too.
Mom is cutting up a rotisserie chicken. There’s a bag of kale sitting on a cutting board and a box of croutons on the countertop. “Thought I’d try one of those healthy-living recipes,” she says. Mom asks Maxine to rinse the kale.
I take out bowls and forks. I set them on the table and ask Maxine, “So, what is it going to be like?”
She tells me it’s a cocktail party. “But of course, you won’t be drinking.” She laughs.
“I know that’s right,” Mom says.
Maxine tells us, “This year the fundraiser will be at Mia’s gallery. There will be a live jazz band, and people will mingle and talk and buy art. And toward the end, Sabrina will say a few words about the program. That’s all.”
“So, I don’t have to make a speech or anything, right?”
“No,” Maxine says, “but since your art is being featured as the student art, I’m sure folks will want to talk with you. You should think of how you want to represent yourself. Come up with a few things you want to say about your art, about the program, about your goals in life.” She tells me, “You’ll be fine. Just be yourself.”
65
confianza
confidence
I am the most dressed up I’ve ever been. Other than these heels Maxine suggested I buy, I am feeling good. By the end of the night, though, I think I might be limping back home. Maxine helped me pick out makeup. At first I didn’t want to wear any, but now that she’s finished painting my face, I have to admit, I really like it.
“Okay, my turn,” Maxine says.
I leave my room and let her have some privacy to get ready. As I wait in the living room, E.J. comes home. “You got a date or something?” he asks.
“No, E.J. I’m going to a Woman to Woman event,” I say.
“Oh, all right, then. I know I’ve been missing in action a little bit, but you better not be dating nobody without my knowing.”
I roll my eyes.
“You think I’m playing?”
Maxine comes out of my bedroom, all transformed out of her jeans and T-shirt. E.J. looks her up and down. “You sure you not going out on a double date?”
Maxine laughs. “What kind of mentor would I be?” she asks.
“Just checking. I mean, you two are looking real nice,” E.J. says.
“Thanks, E.J.,” I say. “But I think it’s ridiculous that you think I could only be getting dressed up for a guy.”
“Well, you look beautiful, whoever it’s for.”
I think for a moment and then tell him, “It’s for me.”
Once we get to the fundraiser, I don’t feel as out of place as I thought I would. That prep time with Maxine paid off. She was right about it all, except she forgot the part about how good the food would be, how waiters walk around bringing you tray after tray of huge shrimp, stuffed mushrooms. Maxine didn’t tell me how I’d feel like some kind of celebrity, the way everyone keeps coming up to me, asking, “Are you the young lady who made that art piece? It’s lovely.” They swarm around my framed art, hovering at the wall like bees, making bids for the silent auction and walking away, then coming back again to see if anyone else has made a bid.
I can’t believe people are going back and forth about who wants to buy something I made.
There’s so much happening all at once. Music from the jazz ensemble playing in the background, servers coming up to me every few seconds with a new offering. I am standing with Maxine and a woman named Gina, who is one of the board members of Woman to Woman.
“I love your work,” Gina says to me. She is a short white woman with black hair. We talk for a while about art because she used to paint when she was younger. “I don’t do it as much as I’d like to, but I pull out my brushes every now and then,” she tells me. Gina gives me her card. “I’d love to talk with you more about your future plans for college. Keep in touch.”
Another couple walks up to us. They are holding hands, and everything about them looks expensive. Even the smiles on their faces. They give me compliments and ask me what school I go to, what colleges I am interested in, what I like about Woman to Woman.
I answer their questions and tell them, “The thing I like most about this program is that the mentors and program director really listen.” They are all looking at me and smiling and drinking their wine and then smiling some more. I get what Mom meant by feeling like I’m on display. But Maxine was right too; if I’m going to be on display, I might as well use the opportunity to say something worthwhile, so when the man with the perfect smile asks, “And what have you learned?” I tell him I’ve learned I don’t have to wait to be given an opportunity, but that I can make an opportunity and use my voice to speak up for what I need and want.