Care Less, Cowgirl

Chapter 6

Chapter 6Annika

It was a hectic week at work, what with planning where everything in the exhibit would go to be shown at its best, while avoiding disturbing any other exhibits with the increased flow of visitor traffic that always accompanied featuring a new artist. All the logistics fell to Annika. Fortunately she was good at it and while she used to dread it in the beginning, the process made her feel alive in a way nothing else in her life did. For a few short weeks a year, she was important. Vitally important. And she savored the feeling, even if it could be draining.

In the ten-plus years Annika had worked at the gallery, she’d made dozens of calls arranging for movers and set-up people and technicians who’d get the lighting perfect. She knew all the right people, had the best contacts, knew how to negotiate deals and meet deadlines. The only thing left was advertising and gathering all the information she could on the artist, her history and style and what had inspired each piece.

This new exhibit was modern art, not something Annika normally liked, so it took an extra effort to be certain her personal feelings did not in any way detract from the gallery’s presentation. The last thing she ever wanted to do was offend anyone, and artists were a particularly sensitive lot. On more than one occasion, she’d found herself smoothing ruffled feathers by manually relocating pieces after the movers had left.

But when media folks were in attendance to cover the opening, things became much more stressful. More often than not, she was sought out to make a comment as a representative of the gallery, which invariably she’d hear about later from her mother. It was never an opportunity for her mother to praise her. No. Her mother would nitpick the smallest details.

“Annika, couldn’t you find a way to appear more knowledgeable when you’re being asked about an artist? Every time you’re interviewed, you seem to be taken by surprise by some innocent question. And punctuating every three words with em or er is hardly professional. It’s the career you chose, Annika. Try to do it well, will you? It’s not like you have a husband to take care of, oh, pardon me, a wife…” Then her voice would branch off onto another level of disapproval.

As her mother had asked, no, demanded, Annika had furthered her education. She’d gotten the degree that had ensured her place on the business side of art, since her mother did not consider the actual creating of art to be a job you could make a living from. She wasn’t entirely wrong about that, if Annika were honest with herself. The little bit of dabbling she did when time permitted and inspiration struck would never keep a roof over her head, that was for certain. But it was her salvation, her escape, her lifeline when things got to be too much. Or not enough.

Leo understood. Just last week he’d hinted at how long it had been since she’d put charcoal to paper. Easy for him to say! Living his perfect life with the man of his dreams, sharing household chores and expenses, feeling loved and supported and…

She slammed her desk drawer shut and broke a nail in the process.

Damn it! Just got them all to a decent length, too. She looked in disgust at the jagged remnant that now topped her left index finger. Nice.

Annika powered down the computer and stood in front of the little cabinet where her purse and jacket were stored away and took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and making circles with her neck to work the tension out. She pulled her phone from her pocket and transferred it to her purse, frowning. Sabine hadn’t called once, despite Annika leaving several messages. Innocent messages. She’d made certain of that. Nothing pushy. Nothing clingy or possessive or needy. Casual mention of having enjoyed their evening together. But not one word in return. As usual.

Pushing open the glass door, Annika scowled. Her eyes teared up from the brisk wind that hit her full in the face as she left the warmth of the gallery behind. She pulled her scarf around her as she walked to the tram stop, thankful the next one was due in less than two minutes. s**t, it was cold! The sun hadn’t really been out all day, the dense layer of clouds reminding Annika that even though it was almost April, winter hadn’t breathed its last quite yet. And probably wouldn’t for a while.

Settled onto a hard seat, Annika chewed at her broken nail as stop after stop came and went. A group of teenaged girls chattered and giggled three rows ahead of her. All were dressed fashionably, their hair and makeup flawless. She shoved her hand in her pocket, self-conscious. One of the girls leaned across the aisle. She was telling a story about something that had happened in class that week and the others listened with rapt attention. For a minute, Annika wished she were twenty years younger and part of that group. What she would have given to catch the eye of the girl telling the story, to have that charisma focused on her…

That’s disgusting! They’re just kids! Anyway, the storyteller was probably not even a lesbian. She turned her face from the fascinating young woman and stared out the window, seeing nothing but miles of grey, the indecipherable graffiti scrawled at the tram stops the only color.

This was the absolute worst time of year.

The tram slowed to a stop and Annika found herself behind the group of girls as they exited the car. For a moment she pretended she was one of them, and reveled in the warmth of their camaraderie. But they hurried off in another direction and she was left standing alone as the tram pulled away.

Damned Sabine! Why couldn’t she be here to meet me? If only she’d answered Annika’s texts, she could have come with her to Leo and Tobias’ little place. They would walk slowly together, side by side, Sabine slipping her arm around Annika, taking her hand, raising it to her lips, breathing her warm breath onto it…Annika shivered, but not from the cold this time.

Damned Sabine! Annika walked the remaining two blocks alone. Miserably cold and utterly alone.

* * * *

“There’s my favorite girl! I thought you’d never get here. Tobias has been a bit of a bear—not that that’s necessarily a bad thing!—trying to get everything perfect. I finally got a few glasses of wine into him and he’s a lot more manageable now.”

Annika was assailed by enticing aromas emanating from the small kitchen as she disentangled herself from Leo’s embrace.

“It smells amazing. I can barely throw together a decent potato salad.”

Tobias emerged from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “Annika, love, how are you? I hope you’re hungry.”

Her stomach growled in response and Tobias laughed. “Finally, someone who will appreciate my efforts.”

Leo playfully punched his arm and Tobias snapped the towel at him in return. He squealed and ran to hide behind Annika.

“Hey! Don’t get me in the middle of your squabbling!” But she laughed at the defeated look on Tobias’ face.

“Foiled again.”

Annika shrugged out of her jacket and hung it over Leo’s head before following Tobias into the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

Tobias handed her a serving dish and spoon to carry to the table. It never ceased to amaze Annika how two such polar opposites managed to have such a successful relationship. They pulled their different tastes together in such a way that they not only worked together, it allowed each of them to express their personalities without one dominating the other.

The food was delicious and plentiful, the wine was exceptional, and before long the stress of the past week abated. Annika felt the tension leave her shoulders.

“Ahh, I needed this.”

“You work too damned hard, girl. You’re starting to look like a raccoon.”

“No, more like a panda.”

Leo swatted Tobias. “A raccoon. She’s far too tiny to be a panda.”

“But raccoons are sneaky little thieves. Our Annika is innocent, like a panda. Guileless.”

Annika smiled. “Okay, okay, I get it. The dark circles are taking over. I promise I’ll try to get some rest now that the new exhibit is under control. My boss promised I could finally use some of my vacation time. We don’t have anything new coming up for a while once this exhibit closes.”

“Speaking of vacations…”

Tobias nudged Leo. “Annika doesn’t want to hear us going on and on about our trip. She’s not into horses or cowboys.”

But she could tell they were both dying to talk about it and were trying not to make her feel bad about not having enough money to travel abroad herself. But it wasn’t money stopping her. She had been putting some aside every payday for the past two years. It was the idea of traveling alone that kept her from making plans to do anything exciting.

“I like horses, I’m just not obsessed with them like you, Tobias. And they’re just so…big. But I’d love to hear about your trip.” Not really, but they were so excited. What kind of friend would she be if she dragged them down just because she was miserable? “So, what made you decide to go to Texas, of all places? Aren’t you scared to be surrounded by all those gun-toting rednecks?”

“Don’t believe everything you read online, Anni. It’s going to be amazing. Heat and sunshine and horses and…”

“And cowboys. Wearing tight jeans and chaps.”

“That’s what you’re going for. I’m going for the horses.”

Leo pouted. “But you promised you’d model some chaps for me.”

“I said I’d love to hear about the trip, not your perverse private plans.” Annika made gagging motions, though she secretly envied their teasing and playfulness. Was s*x ever that easy for her? Maybe if any of her relationships had lasted more than a couple of weeks things would be different, but it never seemed like she could totally let her guard down. Nobody who knew the real her would stay. Who was she kidding? They didn’t stay even when she tried her best to be everything someone expected.

Tobias took the lead, expounding on all the horse-related activities they were going to participate in on the guest ranch in Texas where they’d be spending two glorious weeks playing at being cowboys. It didn’t sound all that thrilling to Annika, because they would also have to help take care of the horses, which probably meant cleaning up after them as well. But the idea of great weather and something called a hoedown might be nice. Just being someplace without the gloom of Munich was appealing.

“I wonder if we get to choose which horse…”

“I hope there’s going to be steak…”

“There’s supposed to be dancing and country fiddling…”

“I’ve never seen a real cactus outside its pot…”

“Do you think there’ll be coyotes?”

Their mutual excitement was palpable and Annika let them keep interrupting one another, thankful to be spared any questions, or worse, judgment, about her sorry personal life. Her phone hadn’t chimed once all day. Yet she still hoped, fool that she was.

Damned Sabine!