Midnight kisses

The Studio Vision

Jesse kept looking at that guy the whole time we were eating. It was exactly the kind of distraction I had hoped to avoid, but given that Jesse was only in town for the weekend, I couldn't begrudge her the harmless pursuit of a handsome stranger. She was all excited about his friends, too, but it was really that first one who caught her eye. He had arrived slightly earlier, and a moment later, two other guys had joined him at his table. One of them looked suspiciously like JoAnn Benson’s older brother, Todd. Jesse and I thought it might be him, but we weren't sure, and frankly, I didn't care to speculate who they were.

They talked to each other the whole time, engrossed in their own conversation, and I would have never noticed them, honestly, but I couldn't help it with Jesse obsessing about them and giving me a play-by-play.

“The tall one just laughed again,” Jesse murmured, barely moving her lips as she chased a handful of chili cheese fries around her plate. “He’s got eyes the colour of the Galveston seawall on a grey day. You know, pretty, but… serious.”

I took a sip of my soda, letting the laughter bubble up in my throat. “Girl, you are in la-la land,” I said, quoting Jesse’s own words back to her from earlier. I was in my own state of elevated anticipation, but mine was rooted in spreadsheets, floor plans, and financial reality, not grey-eyed strangers.

“Just wondering if he’s noticed how beautiful you look today,” she countered, shifting her focus from the object of her affection to the massive burger and mashed potatoes that had finally arrived at my table.

I was dressed up after all, having planned to look polished and professional for William Harper. I’d done extensive preparation for this meeting, predicting how the negotiations would go. It was too big a moment to be distracted by a potential flirtation; that kind of thing would have to wait until my dream was secured.

“Did you hear back from Miss Gwendolyn?” Jesse asked, bringing the conversation back to business.

I nodded eagerly. “Yes. She’s giving me her blessing, and she’s even going to be sending some students my way—the ones who are driving from Jamaica Beach, you know. My studio would be under her umbrella, almost. It’s a really great business plan. I have it all mapped out”.

Jesse looked impressed. “So, the location is truly perfect, then.”

“It’s gloriously vacant and about to be mine,” I confirmed. The thought made my heart swell. This beautiful, large two-story building on the corner of Bank Street and 23rd was already home to me; I had been renting apartment 201 there for a year and eight months. My parents were deeply rooted in this little section of Galveston, too. Now, my business, too, would be established here.

I lowered my voice, feeling expansive about the financial luck that had fallen into my lap. “I know for sure how much it’ll cost to rent that storefront,” I said. “Eight hundred dollars a month”.

Jesse, who had been away at college, looked at me in disbelief. “Eight hundred dollars? A month?”.

“That’s actually a really great deal,” I explained. I couldn't believe my luck that the landlord, William Harper, was likely going to honour the old lease terms.

I told her about Joan Harper, the former owner. “No one knew she owned the building until she died. My mom rented one of those upstairs apartments when she first moved to Galveston. She and Dad lived next to Mrs. Harper for years, they were in 203. And they had no idea she owned the building”. Imagine that, paying rent to a post office box, while your landlord lived right next door! “Mister McCain ran that jewelry store with Joan Harper living right upstairs, and he never even knew she was his landlord. He didn't know until she died and her son took over the place”.

That history, I realized, was probably why the rent had remained so low. The old owner just didn't care about maximizing profits.

My focus drifted back to the storefront, interrupting Jesse’s chatter about the handsome guy at the other table. I could see it all perfectly in my mind’s eye. The whole place had beautiful wood floors that I was hoping to have refinished for a perfect dancing surface. I pictured the layout: dancers dressed out and lined up in an orderly row with artwork displayed on the walls. My plan was twofold: a dance academy and a part-time art gallery.

“You're lost again,” Jesse said, waving to get my attention. She was already sitting on the edge of the seat like she was ready to stand up, her purse on her shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” I said, snapping back to the busy diner. “I was thinking about the wall colour in the studio. Mom said there are some good whites out there, but I just keep picturing it gray”. A soft, neutral colour, either grey or tan, would showcase the artwork while keeping the space light enough for the dancers. It was just a matter of selecting the right shade.

Jesse laughed. “Go get your studio, Tara. I need to get back on the road.”

We said our goodbyes, and I headed out of Carson’s Diner, feeling ready for the next step.

As I walked down the street, I waved at Mister Randall, who was standing on the sidewalk near my aunt and uncle's hardware store. Just past the hardware store was where my building started.

First was the doorway that led to the Seabreeze Apartments. There was a door with an awning which opened into an entryway with three mailboxes and a set of stairs going up to apartments 201, 202, and 203. Mine was 201, the best of the three, overlooking Bank Street and the corner.

Right next to the door that led to the Seabreeze was where the old jewelry store began. There were windows lining two sides of the building, but the door to the store was situated on Bank Street, not far from the door to my apartment. I would literally have to walk ten feet to work. I could hardly believe this store was now gloriously vacant and about to be mine.

I glanced inside before I went upstairs. The interior still contained that big u-shaped counter that took up the entire floor. But I could imagine it instantly: bars and mirrors lining the walls instead of dusty display cases.

I only took a few seconds to glance inside before I went into the door that led to my apartment. I walked up the stairs and circled back to apartment 201. It would be a dream come true to live here and own the business downstairs. I was just getting started with all of this, and it already felt like I had everything I could ever want.

I stayed in my apartment for ten minutes, timing it perfectly so that I wouldn't be too early for the meeting. I meticulously gathered my tools of persuasion: a camera, some photos of my old dance studio, and some photos of ideas I had for a new one. I even made William Harper a little booklet to take back to Tennessee so he knew exactly what was going on in his building. I was as prepared as I'd ever be.

I checked my reflection several times. Everything had to be perfect. The clock downstairs near the mailboxes told me that I was three minutes early, which seemed perfect. I hadn't seen William Harper in the store when I walked by a few minutes before, but I hoped he'd be there by now.

Taking one last deep breath, I walked downstairs for the big meeting, ready to seal the deal that would define my future.