The Weed in the Rose Garden

Chapter Two

"Heyyyyy, sweet pea!" Leona said, pulling me into a tight hug. "I am so sorry I'm late."

"Mom said there was a fire??" I said, pulling out of the hug. My

"Oh yeah. Nothing too crazy. Pops was sharpening some tools and caught a dead bush on fire by the chicken coop. Had to call the fire department and everything." She giggled and looked around the living room. "Damn, we really got our work cut out for us."

I nodded, my lips turning up into a smile. "With that, comes more money! Soon we can take that trip out to Paris we always dreamed of."

Instead of the usual squeal of excitement Leona liked to release at the mention of a trip to Paris, she looked glum. She began to rifle through packaging materials, pulling a roll of bubble wrap out.

"Leona, what's wrong?"

"Paris will probably have to be put aside for awhile..." Picking up a painting of a maple tree, syrup satirically dripping from its limbs, she paused. "It's good news, but yet it makes my heart feel heavy." Sighing, she looked up at me. "Pops and grams are officially passing the resturuant into my hands after this next holiday season."

My jaw couldn't help but fall to the floor. "Leona! That is fantastic news!"

"Well, I'm not stoked. It means they are getting older, for one. For two, life and work are separate right now. Work will become life for awhile... and I will be the first to admit I'm not excited about giving up the freedom I have now." She began wrapping the painting in bubble wrap, sliding cardboard triangle inserts onto the corners of the painting. "I won't be able to hang out with you as much. Social life will be put to a halt and any thought of settling down and starting a family will have to be set aside for awhile too..." her voice trailed off as I watched a pained expression come over her face.

"You didn't want this yet." I stated.

"No."

"I'm sorry, Leona. For what its worth, you may not be able to hang out as much. I can, however, come work at the restaurant or something so we can still keep each other company." I smiled at her.

She offered a weak one back. Conversation changed to casual small talk, the living room filled with laughter and pointed jokes.

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Leona and I loaded everything into my Toyota Tundra and set off for the city. Marissa's Gallery was called Classic Madness and was always filled with eccentric people in odd clothing and bright colored hair during its events. Some were in suits, some in what could only be considered 'high fashion'. Occasionally, the famous would walk through the doors for a private viewing. Her gallery boasted works by famous artists from all over the world and always had rotating stock from varying places.

There was an entire wall dedicated to my work. Not only was Marissa a fan of my art, but she had several art sellers who loved it as well and took many pieces to auctions and other art sales. My pieces were also just sold outright from the gallery to those whose eyes and hearts they captured.

When we arrived, it had begun raining and the lights inside the gallery were off. The streets were empty, quiet despite the rain pattering on the asphalt, and everything had a gray shiny tint to it as evening settled into the city. Tugging my long curly brown hair into my hoodie, I texted Marissa letting her know I was there to drop off some more paintings, and fished the key to the gallery off my keyring. Leona followed behind me as I opened the back door to the gallery and began turning on the lights in the office and storage room.

"I'm going to go grab some of the paintings. Where does she want us to leave them this time?" Leona asked.

"Over there," I stated, pointing to an empty table in the storage room. Fumbling my phone out of my pocket to make sure that is what Marissa had wanted, I gave a quick thumbs up to Leona and the bell above the back door jingled as she made her way out.

I began shifting through the paperwork on Marissa's desk in the office, looking for the inventory form I needed to fill out, when a crash resounded from the front of the gallery. I froze. It was now almost eight thirty on a Monday night, and I had not heard Leona come back in from outside yet. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I pulled my hands away from the papers on the desk, straining to hear if any other noises followed the crash.

"Leona?" I whispered. No reply. I took a couple steps toward the office door leading to the gallery itself, all too aware of how my wet tennis shoes squeaked on the tiled floor. It was eerily silent within the building. My skin began to crawl, my heartbeat quickened. I didn't feel alone, and it also felt like someone was watching me.

I put my hand on the doorknob and slowly turned it, keeping the latching mechanism from clicking too loudly. My attempts to keep quiet were futile when I began to open the door and it groaned like an angry lion awoken from a deep sleep. With that, I said screw it and flung the door open wide, smacking it against the wall.

"If anyone is in here, we are closed and you are trespassing. I'm asking you to leave. Now." I raised my voice enough to echo throughout the gallery and glanced side to side. I was about to flick on the lights when a shadow stepped forward and towered over me.

"After fifteen years, I would have thought you would have been excited."