Artistic License Page 4

  “Thank you.”

  At ten to nine she emerged from the ladies’ room and found the courtroom open, the same bailiff now standing with her back propping an open door. The small room was filled almost to capacity and she pretended not to notice Pete waving her over, indicating that he’d saved her a seat. Despite the fact that the room had been empty moments ago, a wave of body odor and warmth hit her as she jammed her way inside. The air-conditioning available apparently wasn’t strong enough to combat the mass of humanity gathered here. The bright sun poured in from floor-to-ceiling windows to her right, and she could see little dust motes dancing above the people’s heads. She sidled in to the right, and moved till she was almost in the farthest back corner of the room, giving her a panoramic view of the families and lawyers here to lend their support to the innocent-till-proven-guilty crowd.

  The spectator section was separated from the actual courtroom by a wall of tilted glass, giving the place a stage-like feel. Annie wondered if the people inside couldn’t see the audience, or if they’d just become used to performing in front of a crowd. They moved about as though no one watched, coming to the center door only to call the occasional witness.

  When Gary was brought before the judge nearly an hour later, led from a side room by another bailiff, Annie stood up straight. She’d been leaning against the relative cool of the marble wall, yawning in the room’s close heat, fighting a losing battle with fatigue. For a moment she almost didn’t recognize him. What she recognized was his shirt. It was the Hawaiian shirt they’d bought on their honeymoon, still bright-colored—polyester being one of those few things that never fade—with a pattern of large red parrots and green and yellow leaves. She was amazed that he’d choose such a thing to wear to court, then realized that he’d probably been arrested in it and hadn’t had the opportunity to change.

  Gary looked exhausted. His eyes scanned the room, looking for her, she thought. Maybe he couldn’t see through the glass. Pete gave a self-important, low-key wave, but Gary obviously didn’t notice; he kept searching until he was forced to face the judge, who cleared his throat and read the charges.

  Judge Abernathy was a black man of about fifty, with salt and pepper hair and rimless half-glasses that he wore near the end of his nose. He spoke slowly and clearly, stopping every few sentences to be sure Gary understood the accusations.

  “So, Mr. Randall,” he said, leaning on his elbows and focusing on Gary, “you have been assigned a Public Defender. I ask you, do you accept the services of the Public Defender for purposes of this bond hearing?”

  Gary appeared momentarily confused, but answered, “Yes, your honor.”

  “You are charged with burglary; how do you plead?”

  A slim, brown-haired man in a gray suit sitting next to Gary at one of the front tables shuffled some papers, then held up a finger in a gesture for the judge to wait. Gary’s lawyer, Annie decided. Judge Abernathy cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head. The lawyer shuffled more papers before he stood, answering, “Not guilty, your honor.”

  After some debate and discussion between the Public Defender and the State’s Attorney about Gary’s current state of unemployment, his lack of a criminal record, and his marital status, to which Gary had replied “married,” bond was set. Annie didn’t know if she’d be expected to say or do anything during the court proceedings, so she waited, her eyes widening as she heard the bail amount.

  She hadn’t noticed that Pete had made his way over until he spoke to her. “Don’t worry,” he whispered in her ear. She tilted her head away from him. “You only have to come up with ten percent of that.” Nodding, she inched away, but he hadn’t finished. His eyes were alert again. “You got that much on you?”

  He was so close she could smell his breath. Stale, as if he hadn’t brushed his teeth this morning. She pushed herself tighter into the corner, but had to ask, “So what do I do now?”

  Gary, being led out of the courtroom, cast another wild look toward the spectators.

  “Follow me,” Pete said. Annie figured she had no choice.

  Her head spun trying to follow the procedure for bond payment. The petite red-haired woman in charge of Gary’s bail sat behind bullet-proof glass and didn’t look up unless she was repeating a question or asking for an ID. Annie supposed that when you did this every day for eight hours at a time, you’d get pretty efficient, but she was still surprised at how quickly they were done. She’d handed over the cash, signed a few things, heard a couple of thumps as paperwork was stamped “PAID,” and was out the door with Gary, Pete, and a large white receipt in under ten minutes.

  * * * * *

  It had taken her till nearly four o’clock to get back to her mural at Millie’s. By then the afternoon crowd had diminished, and the pre-dinner lull had begun. Annie pulled open the brass-handled door, catching the quiet strains of the ragtime music as she entered. She stopped for just a moment to quell her mind, to shake off the unpleasant business of court this morning and to center herself on the job she’d been hired to do. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted toward her and she smiled. This was only the third time she’d come into Millie’s, but she found that she could depend on the sights, smells, and sounds to cheer her up. Just by walking in the door.

  Sam was behind the counter, scooping ice cream. He looked up as Annie passed, greeting her with a lift of his chin. Surprised that he didn’t smile, she wondered if he was annoyed with her for starting so late in the day, but when she looked back, he was immersed in conversation with the fountain boys.

  Within twenty minutes, she had herself set up.

  “Hungry?” Sam asked, coming up to stand behind her.

  Annie, sitting on the floor, glanced up at him, her brush poised, ready to touch the wall for the first time with paint.

  “This must be how you look to all the little kids,” she said, her face tilted upward. “But no, I grabbed something to eat on the way, thanks.”

  “How do I look?”

  “Really, really, tall.”

  Sam grinned, “I just want to give you fair warning. It’s Friday night. Date night. The place is going to be jumping pretty soon and it won’t slow down till nearly closing time.”

  “Would you rather I wait to start painting another day?” she asked, pulling her paintbrush back.

  “It’s up to you. I just thought you ought to know.”

  Annie looked at all the paints she’d just mixed. Each of the small glass jars had a screw-on lid, so the colors could be preserved, but she was anxious to get started, to throw herself into the project and forget about Gary and Pete and whatever nonsense they were involved in.

  “You know,” she said, turning back to him, “I’m just going to work on this one section. It’s the very beginning and I want to get the colors just right because it’ll set the tone of the whole wall. Maybe after I get that done, I’ll work on more of the sketching again.”

  “Like I said, it’s your call. It can get pretty rambunctious in here on the weekends.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Annie grimaced as Sam left. She’d hoped to get an earlier start on the day, to get at least this foreground area done before the crowds came in. If it hadn’t been for the blasted business at court, she could have had this section done by now. It was like she was spinning her wheels all day. Even making the doctor’s appointment had been difficult, although she’d been happy to find out that they could take her next Friday. But the fact that she had to make an obstetrical appointment in the first place is what angered her most of all.

  She’d chosen to keep the pregnancy secret from Gary, at least for now. Maybe forever, she thought, wryly. And this Pete was a loose cannon. How did he figure into the picture?

  Leaving the courthouse in the morning, Annie had expected an apology, some sense of embarrassment, even a humble explanation for the burglary charges. But as they walked across the street to the parking garage, Gary and Pete seemed to have an agenda of their own. She felt like a moth
er duck, with the two errant ducklings in line behind her.

  Gary quickened his step to keep pace with her, studying the bond receipt in his hands. He’d wanted to keep it, promising to pay her back as soon as he could, but Annie grabbed it back from him when he’d finished reading. Pete stayed a few feet behind. “Thanks a bunch, Annie,” Gary said, “I mean it. I didn’t know who else to call.”

  Annie didn’t slow down.

  He continued, “Pete, here, doesn’t have that kind of money, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you.”

  She stopped and looked at him. “It’s not like I can afford this either, you know,” she said, her voice sounding more panicked than she expected.

  “You’ll get it back,” he said.

  “But not till you have your court date. And if you miss that, I’m out even more money. Money I can’t afford.”

  Gary shook his head. “I wouldn’t do something as stupid as miss my court date,” he said.

  “Yeah well, I didn’t think you’d try something stupid like burglary either.”

  Pete stood a respectable distance away, his eyes switching between them, tongue in the corner of his open mouth. She knew he was watching with eagerness to see what would happen next.

  “I said ‘not guilty,’ remember?” Gary’s eyes, wide in amazement, stared at her, but she doubted their sincerity.

  “You say a lot of things that aren’t true.”

  Pete snorted. They both looked at him. “She gotcha there, bud.”

  “Keep your mouth shut,” Gary said.

  With a shrug Pete looked away, but the smirk stayed on his face.

  The small group resumed walking and when she was still about thirty feet from her car, Annie realized why they were following her. “You don’t have a car here, do you?” she asked Pete.

  Hands in his pockets, he shook his head. “Gary said we could catch a ride with you.”

  Annie looked at her watch. It was almost noon. She looked away and then back at them. “Fine. Where do you live?”

  Gary gave directions, leading Annie to the far southwest suburb of Oak Forest.

  After they exited the expressway and drove down a bit, Annie spotted a Wendy’s. “Hang on,” she said as she pulled into the drive-thru. “I’m starving.”

  “Wendy’s?” Pete said from the back seat in a disparaging voice. “There’s a McDonald’s down a little further, why don’t we go there?”

  Annie half-turned as she eased next to the speaker. “Because I like Wendy’s. Is that okay with you?”

  Pete made a face and grumbled. “McDonald’s got that game goin’ again. Thought maybe we might win somethin’.”

  Annie turned to them, “Do you want anything?”

  At the pickup window, Annie, amazed at her level of hunger, paid for the orders, then eased into a parking spot to open her cheeseburger. She took three bites in rapid succession.

  “What’s the hurry?” Gary asked, unwrapping his chicken sandwich.

  “Mmm?” Annie swallowed, and took a drink of her iced tea. “Just can’t wait to get rid of you two.”

  Gary took a bite and chewed slowly, watching her. “You know,” he said, “you look different from the last time I saw you. Is everything okay?”

  Pete piped in, “McDonald’s got better fries.”

  Annie shot him a withering look, then turned back to Gary. “Yeah, everything’s just great.” He would miss the sarcasm, she was sure. “Why?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” he said, putting his hand on her knee.

  She stopped chewing and stared at him until he took his hand back.

  He kept talking his voice low, “You know, that was a very special night for me.”

  You don’t know the half of it, she thought. He had a strange look on his face, a mixture of “give me sympathy” and eagerness. As though he was ready to ask yet another favor. For the briefest of moments, she was tempted to let loose, to tell him about the pregnancy, to make him feel the helplessness, the fear, the anxiety that she’d been feeling.

  “Yeah,” Pete said, his mouth full of ketchup-laden fries, “Gary told me all about it. He couldn’t believe you put out that night.”

  Annie’s mouth opened, but no sound came out. With one motion, she shoved the rest of her lunch back in the paper bag and smashed it into Gary’s chest. “Get the hell out of my car.”

  * * * * *

  There.

  Annie shoved her bangs out of her eyes with the back of her hand and stepped closer to the booths, careful not to block the path of the waitresses. Not too bad for a start. It had taken the entire evening, but the castle itself now had a first coat of paint, and although there was much to add later in terms of embellishment, a lot of the planned flourishes were roughed in. The level of detail was what made her most excited. She knew this section was key—she would need to get this part just right, and surprisingly, she’d done it on her first pass. There was something to be said for attacking a job with excitement, she thought. She’d channeled every ounce of emotion she’d been internalizing into creativity. The wall looked splendid. Just splendid.

  She blinked her eyes and yawned. Time for a break.

  The restaurant would close in fifteen minutes and the place was just about empty. It would be so nice to work tomorrow morning while it was quiet. The kids coming and going had slowed her down, although they all seemed interested in what she was doing. She looked at her watch. Yep. If she wanted to get an early start, she’d have to give it up tonight. Even the excitement of the project wasn’t enough to keep her eyes open.

  Two boys came by and asked if they could paint, too. Annie smiled and told them no but that maybe once the picture was finished, they’d want to come back and find the hidden pictures. The boys, about four and six years old, had made faces at her, and complained about never getting to do anything fun. She was about to ask them where their mother was when a large man came from the booth section, and reached both boys in three strides. Placing enormous hands on each of them, he tilted their heads upward till they met his eyes. “Your mother wants you back at the table.”

  The whining stopped instantly and although the boys grimaced, they allowed themselves to be led back. The big man glanced at Annie before he turned. His short, almost crew-cut hair was dark, but the tips had been highlighted blond. Annie wasn’t great at guessing heights and weights, but this guy was even bigger than Sam; she bet he topped two-eighty. He wore khaki pants and a dark shirt with a dark gray jacket, despite the humid weather. Judging from the bead of sweat that formed on his upper lip, Annie didn’t think he’d chosen it for warmth. He nodded, “Sorry, miss.”

  “Not a problem,” she said, feeling like there was more going on than she realized. Turning back to her supplies, she began sorting and packing.

  Sam walked up. “Calling it quits for tonight?”

  “Yeah, I think I’ve about had it. How does it look?”

  He stepped back a few feet. “I think it’s great. Where did this come from?” he asked, pointing to a small section near the bottom of the wall.

  “Oh, that’s the legend,” she said.

  “I don’t remember seeing it in the original sketches,” he said.

  “It wasn’t. I just got the idea tonight. A little artistic license. It’s what I’m best at.”

  “It looks like it tells a story, with pictures.”

  “It does. I got carried away. Took some extra time, but it gave me some more ideas, too.”

  Sam nodded in a way that made Annie believed he was pleased. “Same time tomorrow?”

  “I thought I’d come in early. Like eight? Is that okay?”

  “I’ll be here,” Sam said. “Take it easy, though. Get some sleep.”

  “I’m just going to clean up, and then I’ll head out.”

  In the ladies’ room, Annie waited for the water to warm up in the sink before thrusting her hands beneath the stream. She had to keep pressing the hot water plunger to keep the water flowing, scrubbing the
paint off her fingers till it stopped, then pushing it again, until she finally felt as though her hands were clean enough. The walls of the bathroom, reflected in the mirror before her, had been painted a dark shade of beige to complement the teal-colored stalls. While the restaurant exuded a minty cheer, the bathroom was dull and lifeless. The ragtime music being piped in didn’t fit at all. Annie nodded her head, looking from side to side. Maybe once the mural was done, she’d be able to talk Sam into letting her perk this room up, too. And then, she thought, my portfolio will have . . .

  Like a punch in the stomach, she remembered the pregnancy. Even if she’d be capable of working for the entire term, she’d have to consider what life would be like once the baby was born. The kind of money she could expect to make would have been enough to keep her going, what with the savings she’d put aside. But it wouldn’t be enough to cover baby expenses, or to hire a sitter. And she certainly couldn’t count on Gary for financial support.

  Thank heaven she’d taken out a health insurance policy when she left the architectural firm. Otherwise right now, her grim situation would be even worse. She could try to go back, of course; the company had been sorry to see her go. But despite the anti-discrimination laws on the books, they’d be foolish to take her back now, with a maternity leave looming in just a few months.

  She’d been screwed. In more ways than one.

  She’d been so concerned about this job, and so distracted by Gary’s shenanigans that she hadn’t taken the time to fully contemplate the enormity of her situation. One night of recklessness was going to ruin it for her. It wasn’t fair.

  High-pitched whining punctuated by yells and screams started, and grew louder outside the bathroom door. Moments later two children scrambled in, followed by their mother, looking less harried that she should, Annie thought, with the way the children were behaving. They were the same two boys who’d asked her if they could paint and whose father, or uncle, or something had taken control. They were shoving each other, and arguing, but because they were both shouting at the same time, Annie couldn’t understand what they were saying. All she could make out was that their mother had apparently insisted that they come wash their hands.