"Listen Kiddo. I'm after graduation." My older brother, Len told me in confidence as the brothers sat down to talk after our parents are retired for the night to enjoy your wine-induced dream vacation.
I was too shocked to speak. He intended to leave me behind? Being two years older, of course, before I graduate, but leave the city without me? It was incomprehensible.
"I'm going to school for graphic design in Toronto. You'll have no problem getting a job in the city when I'm done. I think it will make mom and dad proud." His voice was a little pleading as if asking for my blessing. Len was a very talented artist and I knew it would never be able to do what he loved to make a living if he stayed in the desert of a city we call home.
It was good that your plan includes a little something for mom and dad too, having spent all his years prior to driving absolutely crazy. Len had been a typical mischievous child and to the chagrin of my mother, it never came. But that Christmas night that focused, and was thinking about his future.
"But what about me?" I asked. I could not help it. I wanted the best for Len, but I could not imagine life without it protects me. That's what big brothers are for.
Len laughed knowingly, "You're going to get too Kiddo -. Once you pass you have to go where the opportunities in the city and nobody here even knows what an interior designer is that everyone has his head screwed backwards ... "
I was relieved - and really enthusiastic about his plan for us. That would be great! We would take the city by assault. The Monroe Brothers art. The northern clan. Len would be awesome to work for a magazine and I'd be the principal designer of the next - perhaps even I would end up on television in town! Watch the world!
We were in the first week of spring, when Len unexpectedly stole his plans for the future, they stole all they really are. Sunlight filtered through the windows of the gamma-ray room ethereal, as if God himself was watching the events unfold. Jerry, one of the best friends of my father and fellow police officer, approached the door and rang the bell. My father spoke and rushed to the stones of the courtyard with him. I watched from behind the door where I could see both through small beveled glass window. Suddenly I saw my father holding the knees bent for balance, as if Jerry had beaten in the stomach. My heart sank.
My father's voice was grim and firm when re-entered. "Len is gone. A drunk driver ran him and Ben off the road last night." I drew a sigh of disbelief. "Ben is in the hospital, but Len did not .... I'm sorry baby." I said, lowering her head, drowning his tears trying to be strong for me.
Without answering, I could do anything he ran up the stairs to the bedroom Len - I heard my mother mourn the pain behind me and I wanted to be with her, but I stayed in bed instead of Len. I did not leave there until he was forced to drag my dead body, lifeless and soulless to attend the funeral. The time resulted in a fog, the days turned into nights I give them much attention. He was gentle prodding of my mother in the middle of his thoughts of the tears that eventually led me away from home and return to school. Once there, Ben never left my side. That was a blessing and a curse because it only gave me a constant reminder of Len. But he had lost his best friend in the world and that somehow made him feel better to be near me.
I walked through the halls of our school like a zombie for months and Kelly felt was his duty is like my best friend I remember, very diplomatically, I take a shower, or at least apply some mascara from time to time. Sometimes I think I've seen Len before me in the room or hiding in a classroom. But always realize quickly, with what felt like a punch in the stomach, which could not be him because he was not at school or anywhere you would be able to talk to him or laugh with him or trust him again.
I managed to do it through my last two years of high school with the help of Ben and Kelly and the rest of our friends. And although I never felt quite complete, I managed to carry out and, finally, it behaves like a normal teenager. I even smiled occasionally. When I finally took my graduation cap and gown, which subsequently fully recognized the continuing voice in my head telling me to hit the road and that mom and dad proud. It was the voice of Len. Somehow I knew that although it was not there to lead the way, he was still with me. It's time to go Kiddo. With the strength of my mother, my father's good sense, and the memory of Len packed in my suitcase, I went to Toronto, where I had been accepted into the prestigious Institute of Design.
4 years later
Sitting in class watching the presentations, I was just a ball of nerves waiting for my shift. He was slated to be the last presenter at the end of the last class, on my last day of classes. I was horrified. Public speaking was not my forte. Have all eyes on me create an unpleasant feeling in the pit of my stomach that echoed in the back of my throat.
Carla, the girl before me was good. His project was the lobby of a building at the mall again. It was elegant and modern. The floors were marble and elaborate details. The soft leather sofas are brown, style tables near the floor, and the spider was to die. It consists of hundreds of pieces of emerald-cut glass took the shape of a seahorse! The walls were covered with textured wallpaper, green light and modern abstract art work - a bit boring, truth be told. The colors worked together and most of the materials that made sense. The security desk / reception was at the center of the space, with a short lifts on both sides. The lobby was beautiful, at first glance, but it could easily take a handful of things that were wrong or not from the overall project design.
Carla was tall and thin for no reason, with sharp features, but attractive. An olive complexion, green eyes, long brown hair and layers made him look exotic. She had a tattoo on his left arm, not a butterfly or a flower, but a skull and crossbones. Like most other girls in the class, like what my mother called "death warmed over. His clothes were glued to the body and usually black. Her makeup was the variety of the heroine and her elegant personality - poisonous.
There was no obvious theme for the lobby that he could identify in presenting Carla. It was just a mish-most modern and expensive materials. Although the spider was beautiful, what was the point? It had nothing to do with the location or the occupants. It would have been awesome if it had, but he did and therefore no sense. The soil also led development of the spider by drawing the eye downward instead of upward. We spent much time in the last four school years are more of the focal points and environmental psychology. If I had been too busy to reapply your eyeliner to hear from time to time?
Carla was walking back to his seat flashing me a smile defiant. By custom, however, returned the smile and instantly regretted. Damn my small town manners! Why could not I very coolly that smile back and maybe raised an eyebrow as saying. . . "Nice lobby, Corpse Bride, now let me show you what a real piece of design should be?"
It was my turn to present. My hopes and dreams are based on the final draft. The best student at the end of the program had the opportunity to offer an apprenticeship in the studio of infamous Professor McNally in the district of art and design. I took a deep breath, and descended the stairs to the front stage of the class. On the next hole, I began to quickly assemble my other designs on the wall. With each card that was, I could hear whispers of students in the back. There were five cards in total and the last place you looked at his shoes to gain his composure. They were old and worn, but every penny I had was to go to tuition and materials for school and not in my closet. My dress still looked great, was a tight black cotton and wool blend with a skinny belt fake crocodile. It was the only suit he owned and had been used only once before the funeral of Len.
"Deep breath." I told myself. As the room fell silent I turned slowly to face my classmates.
They were all uniformly leaning forward in their seats, some with smiles on their faces and others just look confused. I turned to look at the display tables and my heart stopped. They were all upside down! I felt my face flush and instantly began to sweat from every pore of my body.
I have corrected small tables as soon as I could. Life is full of moments. That time had gone bad and it was time to move on. Once everyone stopped laughing, I went to my public again. "As you can see it is a design layout for a house of 4,500 feet of beach. It is located in Malibu, California and is a structure that exists today. The owners have asked me to update it to be a space that can entertain all year, and invite you to stay and live comfortably for weeks at a time. The owners and their group of friends find themselves in the music industry and enjoy good food and elegant affairs. They take seriously their health and enjoy exercise and eat well, have a permanent chef. I worked with the chef to come to a very modern kitchen and incorporated their ideas into the open concept main living area. The kitchen also serves as a collection service area to service personnel during the holidays. "
Every aspect of the house had been carefully thought out to the wall of my heart not yet registered, consisting of three large sunflowers. In this case I chose to be placed above the fireplace there was a solid wood mantle was sitting very low and wide. The flowers are so bold and elegant sepia serene, brought together all elements of the house together.
It was my mother, who had inspired my reasons for sunflower. On a visit to the house, she took me to court to show that sowed sunflower, much in the not belong in your yard uncovered and without gardens, against the front of the house. They stood and certainly stood out against the latest draft of my mother, who was to paint the house blue. The flowers captured my heart that day that my mother was beaming in his masterpiece. I was amazed at the courage and the inspiring beauty of sunflowers and mother alike.
Finishing my presentation, I looked at my audience. Some of my classmates seemed a little scared, while others looked on with pencil and paper in hand taking notes, hopefully not stealing my ideas again. In the first row, Professor McNally was radiant. I came to the conclusion of the presentation so that everyone knows that the key to being a good designer is being a good listener and thank you for your time.
Good job, kid. I allowed myself to imagine Len's voice in my head for years encouraged me to keep going. Sometimes I wondered the climate was healthy for me or not.
"I'd like to talk with you after class." Professor McNally whispered as we shook hands and traded places in the 'pit'.
Madge McNally was from the Caribbean, but lived in England most of his adult life. Just had a slight accent that make you believe you were not born and raised in Canada. She was forty years and always wore her hair in big loose curls. His costume consisted of leather shoes in a variety of colors and designer jeans, always present and jackets. Tall and thin, professor chin safely and permanently established in a upward position, which tried to emulate.
The wait for the room to clarify, I was nervous spasms. Some of the girls stopped to say what they liked my project and others like Carla, only snorted in disgust and went quickly.
I just had a friend in class. Her name was Jade. The earth was literally always talking about "green" and natural materials. Jade was truly fabulous ideas for decorating industry and design that would also benefit the environment and last almost forever. I promised to work with her one day in absolutely everything I could. It was brilliant. It seemed that he missed his exit from the classroom and yet did not say goodbye.
I could not decide if Madge just wanted to have a chat and say goodbye and good luck in his future projects, or if I was about to be rewarded for all my hard work over the past four years with an internship at your company design. She could not have any idea how much they mean to me practice.
"Miss Monroe. Are you lost in your head again?" Professor McNally said in a soft voice when he returned to the room. She had been in the room to say goodbye to all their students and who want the best.
Reacts against life forced me a nervous smile, "I'm here."
"Well. Excellent presentation today, as always my dear," said the professor, who set the tone of our conversation. He sat next to me and shook my hand some shoulders. She turned in her chair so they could face each other.
"Thank you Madge. ''I freely called by name when there were other students around. "I thought I was going to die when I put the tables that way."
"We recovered well. Customers appreciate that you do not have a complete collapse under pressure."
"Clients" I sighed. "Do not remind me I have to go to live in the real world, now that school to find my own clients and to pay for my studies."
"Well, dear, that's why I wanted to talk to you You've done a great service to customers who have had to borrow money for their projects much better than any other in its class -.. In all my years of teaching reality. I would like to come work for me, Eva. "
"You're giving me learning?" I exclaimed, while the question of a sense of relief came over me. I had worked so hard and crushed to see it go to someone else, although I had prepared to be elegant if a loser in the case.
"I would not want to come work for me and take care of some clients of mine. I'll give Carla learning."
It took a minute to digest his words
"You are offering me a job?" I could not stop my voice becomes high pitched the idea of having an adequate job of school. It was almost unheard of. Then something sunk in.
"And you are offering Carla's position learning? So what does that make me?" Besides miserable, I thought.
"You become what you are. A designer."
"Are you kidding me? This is too much, you're messing with me," I accused.
"I can say with certainty that I'm not playing with you. You are the best designer who has been in my class in years.'re A very nice young man and my clients that you love. So where does that leave me? If you take an apprentice, you will lose credibility with them, so I guess I have to contract in its place. So, you want the job or want to be a free agent? "
Without hesitation he replied: "I want the job!" I could not contain my excitement and almost jumped into the lap of Madge to hug your neck. Madge laughed. "Now, as you know, is my partner that runs the entire study period. You have an appointment to meet with her in two weeks. Here." He handed me a business card.
"9:00 AM sharp in the study. Enjoy your free time because it is a fast-paced business deadlines and demanding clients. I suggest you to visit his mom and dad, because you will not see for a while. "
"I'm Madge. Thanks." My voice broke. I felt completely overwhelmed by that point.
"Do not disappoint me, I have supported for you with Miki and has seen his work. I need to live up to its reputation. Now get out of here and go to celebrate their graduation. "He said.
"Thanks again. Will not be disappointed." I spun out of the classroom and outside the school gate jumping three steps at a time up the stairs to the hall. I stopped at the same recap what just happened. First, I was not even sure if I would get the training or not, and suddenly I had a job done and right! Thinking about learning and knowing that he went to Carla was like being handed a bouquet of roses and a slap in the face. That meant that we would be working in the same study and Carla would Miki apprentice, business partner Madge and acting president of the company.
I turned around to take in the Academy of Design last. The building was made by Jason Nichols, a local architect with a huge amount of glass and metal, bent and curled a beautiful structure that resembles a silhouette of Marilyn Monroe lying on your side. Be molded into an interior designer at the school was the best experience of my life so far. Solemnly reminded me that if it were not for the insurance money I received after the death of Len, I could never afford to go there first.
"Are you okay?" Jade asked. She was standing right in front of me and I had not noticed her. "Eve?"
I gave my head a nod. "I'm fine." I said. "Hey congratulations. We're done.'re Presentation was fabulous!" I meant it. Final Project Green Jade was a spa in Kensington Market. A part of town where people sell second hand clothes and redesigned, a vegetarian restaurant on every corner.
"Thank you. His was too. Once was in the right way," he smiled kindly. White skin brown jade shone in the sun. She wore her hair in dreadlocks tied in a thick ponytail with a long strip of red cloth. I once asked how she got her hair to locks of fear. Apparently, she just stopped washing. After the group began, beeswax added to it and voila! Gross. No wonder they are called "terror" crashes, I had said.
"So what are you doing now? Some of the girls are going to the place to celebrate." The announcement was a trendy bar down the street from the Academy, where students from all walks of life and drank comingled.
I refused politely, "I think I'm going to go home, but thanks. "Jade was not surprised by my answer. I was a little outcast and had not suddenly changed because the school was finished.
"I just wanted to know," said Jade. "The rumor is that he has been offered a job in Signor and Carla has been learning." News travels fast, I told myself. "The girls and the other furious Carla are on your side. I guess it's hard for them to believe that everything they do suck and you deserve the job you do. I'm happy for you, but watch your back if you will be working around Carla. She is a snake. I have to run, but keep in touch OK? "Jade turned and ran toward the school.
The whole exchange made me feel a little more positive than would be hell to work with Carla about. I had been looking forward to not seeing her again after school is over.
I stared at my school beautiful. The institution had molded me into a serious young designer. The place did not have to be. It was half the day and so I jumped on the Spadina streetcar and went to Chinatown my favorite store small cloth. But there was a workshop of normal tissue. It was my little piece of heaven in a strange world, wearing only beautify the widest silks in a rainbow of colors endless. The owner, a small Chinese woman 60 years perhaps, do not speak English and certainly do not speak Chinese, but both spoke the language of the fabric and had therefore great. I often bring a piece of the project and would like to work together, coordinating patterns and textures and shades. They do not need more than just a sample, the owner, who I referred to as silk, Mama, I rarely took more than a dollar for a bunch of exquisite fabrics. I wondered if that was the only English, Silk and Mother knew that she only has accused "a dolla." Silk always happy mom showed me the new stock shipped directly from their homeland. At the end of each visit always go hand in hand a gentle squeeze and what could only be perceived as a warm smile on the counter.
Throughout school, my classmates were always baffled by the quality of my samples. As also Professor McNally, who could not stop caressing the fabric itself, when he had several projects in various stages of their help and advice. I never told anyone about the location Mama silk. It was selfish, but I knew that my secret was essential, such as silk, Mom would have a major role in my career one day. I promised when I became a designer fabric is purchased more than one return his kindness.
"I'll be a famous designer, silk mother," I told her one day. "It's going to be my secret weapon. You will have more money than they know what to do with it. Maybe you can return to China and visit the Great Wall. Unless the only entertainment for tourists. "
"Yesss," Silk said shakily small Mom as she looked at me and smiled shyly, without understanding a word he had said. His eyes, small and bright, were surrounded by soft, wrinkled brown skin, and the craziest thing imaginable flying eyebrows. Silk Mom always smelled faintly of lavender and thyme, which I wanted to lie down and nap, but the beauty of the fabric in all directions kept my eyes always charming.
I got off the tram, I came to the liquor store on the corner to buy a bottle of cheap champagne and then walked the few blocks from College Street to the Breast tent of silk. I went through the Chinese market with its spill sidewalk leading to the old traders who took care of fruits and vegetables. As always, I tried not to look at the dead birds and feathers dangling from their feet in the windows of the restaurants.
Inside the store the air was sweet with incense and silk Mom was sitting behind the counter, watching the tiny TV. I walked around the counter after wave of welcome and sat for a few minutes observing what appeared to be a soap opera in China. There was an absolutely beautiful young woman crying on the screen and hitting the chest of what could only be described as a Chinese Bo Brady.
Mom said sheepishly silk to the girl on TV, "Grandotta".
"That is your granddaughter?"
"Yesss."
"Wow. She is awesome." I said.
"Grandotta. Yesss."
I presented the flowers for Mom Silk and announced the news of my graduation and new job. Pour a glass of wine for each of us and clink together I said, "Thanks Mom Silk. I could not have done it without you."
"Good Girl". His English is improving. Sipping our wine, we look around the store in the beautiful range of fabrics on horizontal racks reaching to the ceiling. The store was full of fabric, many of the bolts bends in the curves with nowhere to go. The typical style of retailing in a fabric store is composed of small tables laden with ornaments, 'Buy Me' items, furniture and works of art for sale on the walls. With so many items crammed into the tissue is usually lost in the background. Those stores are beautiful and fun to peruse, but mom silk shop designed exclusively for the web-aholics like me. No distractions, just the front fabric and more fabric in the back. It was truly wonderful.
I left Mama Silk is a little later. I had to take the subway to go home. Passengers saw rhythmically weave in and out of doors at each station, as if making a well-rehearsed to-see-do with a hundred different partners. The gentle ringing of the door provides the tempo. I could not bear to read the advertisements above the windows for the millionth time sitting on the plastic seat in orange uncomfortable doing nothing I took stock of the last years of my life. I thought coming to town four years ago, first with my father, by then retired, to find an apartment. He was determined to make sure I lived in a safe area, if I insisted on moving so far from home. This means paying a little more in rent than I expected to budget for, but my father wanted otherwise. Kelly insisted on moving in with me, which made the notion of the city a bit daunting less alarming. She plans to continue her modeling career, giving up college. I have been advised against it if it were not so beautiful with her dark blond hair and blue eyes captivating. The touch of freckles on his nose just adds to its charm.
Before leaving home, who had spent exactly one thousand dollars in an apartment suite of furniture, which is a loveseat and a green vinyl couch, two tables and a coffee table veneer panels in what appeared the walls of the 70 ornate gold-colored plastic. I added two lamp shade and a plain brown frame bed with a dresser. It was not sexy, but it was convenient and better than nothing. Kelly and I moved into our home, ate a lot of takeaways and then took the bus for our first visit after a week.
Ben met us at Ziggy, the local bar Chatsford
"Ladies! "Proclaimed by pulling the two into an enthusiastic bear hug, moving around us like a pair of rag dolls." Well, I've had. I could hang out here and be miserable for the rest of my life, but is very, very boring. Any space on the couch? "
Of course there were, and Ben soon became a fixture in what we call the chair of soup at the corner of the room. The chair of soup was shaped like a bowl covered with a large round tufted cushion beige. It belonged to Kelly, but Ben claimed it for himself and refused to let anyone sit on it. Sometimes they even sleep in the chair of soup to make sure nobody steals it the next morning. We all had very fond of our little apartment even though he had done nothing to really improve on it since we moved in was our home away from home group where everyone came and went as we pleased.
After Ben and Kelly with me gave me the courage to make it through school and survive the loneliness that often face there. It is very appropriate with the other girls it was sometimes difficult, but I knew that my two best friends were there for me when I got home. They loyally listened to my complaints about Carla with a glass of wine or dragged me to a club that lifted my spirits. They insisted that I try to enjoy my youth, instead of worrying about the garbage, project after project.
During my last year at the Institute of Design, however, our lives began to change. Each of us seems to be a little more trapped in our own worlds, dealing with life without each other as crutches proverbial. Kelly seemed to be the best at it. She had made many friends and was always clubbing or on dates. While Ben and I often still find ourselves just going through the apartment and not much to do or say.
I could not help but wonder what would happen after he ascended from the underground subway fluorescent and headed for the rest of the house on foot. I returned to my apartment just as the sun set over the tall buildings, shooting rays of orange light in the sky polluted city. I could not wait to tell Ben and Kelly about my amazing day. I thought Ben stretched out on the couch with his eyes lazily on television. A long cable connected the black and Play Station with remote control in hand.
"Hi Ben," I said, stung by his legs and plopping on the couch beneath them. "Where is Kelly?"
He grunted and shrugged. Casually looked at him. If he had achieved nothing since high school, Ben had matured physically a man. He was tall and thin, with the body of a swimmer. Although usually tried not to notice.
As Ben continued to play their game I looked around the living room. It was a shame. I was a graduate in design and thanks to the landlord to paint before we moved, I was stuck living in a paradise cake. Faced pie with my cheap, tacky furniture, green. Each room was a little different, some ugly wallpaper borders. The living room, for example, had a border with a string of elephants walking in a continuous line clinging to the tail in front of them, with their trunks. Orange rays of the sun began to flow through the picture window and land on the walls, it reminds me of an African safari.
My keen senses finally realized that Ben had the stereo going. It comes through the speakers was the slow hum of a woman who clearly had problems in childhood that she was trying to work through. Singing, "... I do not like the smell of cotton candy on Sunday afternoon and I do not like the clown with yellow balloons ..."
"What are you listening?" I asked skeptically.
"Pale," he said in a tone that suggested I should have already known.
"It's terrible." I teased.
"The singer is a hottie."
"She seems unstable."
"The always beautiful." Ben said, and I can not say I did.
"Speaking of beauty." It was a weak segue, I admitted to myself. "A true Hottie graduated today. Thank you for giving a shit," I said as I pinched my leg Ben.
Ben stopped the game, he threw the remote on the table and sat across from me. His expression softened, and after a moment said, "Eva. I'm sorry. I forgot that today was the day. Congratulations. "He breathed into man leaving a burning sensation behind the pulse." We will celebrate this weekend, okay? "
"Make that next week. I will go home for a few days. Madge told me to take a break before starting my new job." I still could not believe my luck.
"You just graduated today and you already have a job?" His reaction shocked me happy.
"Of course I do. I'm so good Ben. I've been saying for years." I smiled broadly. "Madge offered me a job in their study. Is not it great?"
"That's awesome - you can buy drinks then."
"Very funny." I said. We sat in silence for a few moments watching the race car frozen in the television screen. "Well, I go to bed," he said. "Good night."
"Yes .., Good night." Ben jumped off the sofa and chair in the soup to collect video game away from the table.
"Good night, Benji," I said to mock him with the name he hated.
"Good night, Evelyn," he replied without missing a beat. He knew I hated that name, my whole life insisting that everyone call me Eva. Evelyn was too mature a name for a girl like me. I went to bed that night with the events of the day dancing in my mind. My presentation, Madge is the job offer, the plight of Carla. When my thoughts with the idea of spending a few days at home, the comfort he was calm enough to sleep.