Start at The Prologue - Paul
Read Part 1 - Heidi

“I don’t know what I was thinking at the time,” Heidi said, pausing mid-pace to look at the bed, “except I needed money, and my cards were locked up in the safe.” She sat on the foot of the bed after exhausting what nervous energy she had. “I knew he kept some cash in Metaphysics of Morals,” she continued quietly. Wade could see the exhaustion was setting in, taking a toll on her. It was no surprise since she spent the last twenty minutes on an emotional purge. “I just knew, so I went into his office, grabbed the book, and left,” she ran her hand through her hair and studied the floor. Wade watched silently, knowing she had more to say and knowing anything he had to say at the moment would be unhelpful. “I didn’t look to see how much was there; I just climbed back in the cab. I handed her a bill from the book, a fifty maybe, and asked her to drive--anywhere--and she did. I...” Heidi stood, frustrated. Wade could only guess at what; he didn’t have her talents. “...Next thing I know, we’re stopped at a bus station in Dickinson,” she laughed sardonically, “one minute I’m in Williston turning down a proposal, and the next I’m getting on a Greyhound headed south. That’s all I knew. South. And when the money ran out, I was in Amarillo with nothing but the clothes on my back.”

Wade stood and walked to the mini-fridge, grabbed two bottles of water, and handed one to Heidi as he walked back to the couch. She thanked him; he grunted his response and sat down to guzzle the cold liquid. Perhaps it would cool his temper, he thought and decided to start at the least volatile part of her story. “So you and Geraldine were friends first; then you met Paul. After that, Geraldine’s attitude toward you changed.”

“Well, it was a couple years after I met Paul...” Heidi started, but after a glance at Wade, “...yes.”

Wade took a breath to align his thoughts before continuing, “Then one summer, while Paul was out of town, you met Caleb, became friends, and stayed friends, despite his and Paul’s strained relations.”

“Yes, at least, until college when he stopped talking to me,” Heidi said, rubbing her face, “He never wrote or called.”

“Hmm, who picked up your mail?” Wade asked, guessing the answer.

Start with The Prologue - Paul

​Heidi sat in the City Cab hoping to hit traffic, or a sinkhole, or anything to keep her from her ten year reunion. Of course, all those would only delay the, already overdue, conciliation she owed her friends and Paul. Especially Paul. She hadn’t meant to run out on him, after he proposed, but she had. As a result, she found her place; her home; herself; and, Goddess help her, a man she loved dearly. Beginnings were frightening and endings were painful; faced with the beginning of an end, Heidi was feeling unmitigated trepidation. She smiled at her own use of vocabulary. In order to calm her nerves during the flight, Heidi scoured her Thesaurus app and found several ways to express her dire feelings. Unmitigated trepidation was her current favorite. When the hotel was in sight, Heidi checked the meter and began counting out the appropriate amount of cash. The cab driver stopped at the entrance of the hotel to allow the valet to open Heidi's door while another emptied the trunk. Once she and her luggage were unloaded, an all too efficient process as far as Heidi was concerned, she followed one of the valets inside as he pushed her luggage cart.

Heidi’s plan had been to arrive early, check in, and get settled before having to deal with anyone. She was sure there would be some over-eager bunch that would also want to arrive early, with the intent to socialize, so she planned to arrive the earliest. All she could think upon seeing at least a dozen of her over-eager classmates is that even the best laid plans go wrong.

“Don’t these people have lives?” she grumbled fully recognizing the absurdity of her situation and too annoyed to acknowledge it.

Acting quickly Heidi put her luggage between herself and everyone else; her last hope was to check in and escape to her room unnoticed. Traci Whitlow crushed those hopes with her loud drawn-out words. “Heidi Davis, I heard rumors you would be coming back for our little get together!” Heidi rolled her eyes, fixed a polite smile to her face, and turned around. “I see you’re as eager as the rest of us to see everyone again,” Traci said behind her hand as if they were trading secrets; yet her voice carried to every corner of the lobby.

The dinner is going well and everything is prepared for the proposal. She looks...beautiful. Or I suppose that would be the term others would use. It doesn’t matter, after the wedding, I won’t have to pretend to share her anymore. Thinking about our future together always incites a churning, simmering feeling in me, love apparently. I lose myself in the look of her; the dress she’s wearing isn’t quite right. I would have dressed her differently for such an important occasion. Her expression draws me out of my thoughts. Had she been speaking?  

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” I ask, as she shifts under my gaze, a smile on her lips.

“I said, what’s the occasion?” She repeats with a soft laugh. Why is she laughing? “Paul? Did I lose you again?”

“No, of course not. I’m listening,” recalling a line I’ve heard others say, I decide to give it a try, “You just look so beautiful tonight; it’s distracting.” It makes no sense to me, but if it works for others then it will work for me.

She shifts again while looking down. Isn’t she supposed to laugh or act embarrassed? Her response to the line is not...adequate.  Perhaps my delivery was lacking? “You’ve been acting awfully strange lately. What are you up to now?” She asks, once again drawing me out of my thoughts. She seems impatient...maybe. I decide to move forward with my plan to propose. The sooner I can claim her the better.

“Heidi,” I say as I stand and move to her side, kneeling down as I’ve seen others do in this situation. I see no merit in it, but it seems to be required. I pull the velvet box from my breast pocket and open it. “Will you marry me?” I ask, showing her the ring. I remind myself to smile and make eye contact as that tends to be important for people.

“What?” Her voice is breathless and she looks stunned...maybe - no matter. This is the part where I put on the ring. As I take her hand and carefully slide the ring on her finger, all I can think about is our future together. Always being able to see her, watch her, and not have to hide it from others. They don’t understand that she belongs to me. No one else. I feel her whole body turn rigid a second before she jumps up and moves away. “I...I can’t. I can’t marry you,” she stumbles over the words as she pulls off the ring. “I’m sorry,” she whispers as she sets the ring down on the table and flees the restaurant.

The rolling heat inside me ceases all movement when her figure disappears from my sight. It freezes into a lump of burning ice inside me as my mind processes what she said. My body moves of its own accord; nothing outside me is even penetrating the chill I feel wrapping around me. When my awareness returns I am parked in front of my house. I climb out of the car as my mind, once again, reviews the evening's events. I must have surprised her, I realize stopping halfway up the walk. Looking at the house I’m renting, I can’t stop the disgusted sneer. Heidi would call it “a quaint home.” It was small and the construction was...less than adequate. Unfortunately, I can’t afford better right now. Maybe that has something to do with Heidi’s response.  

I take a moment before opening the door, preparing my expression for a talk about tonight’s dinner, that...how should I word it? I can’t say she belongs to me. True as it may be, people seem sensitive to such phrasing. That we belong together? That will suffice. As soon as I turn on the light I know she isn’t there. I can’t say how I know but the note pinned to the message board confirms my suspicion.

“Paul, I need time and space. I’m Sorry. Heidi.”

Next Part 1 - Heidi

San Antonio, one of the fastest-growing cities in Texas, still maintains the small-town feel within its big city borders. It’s a place full of history, culture, and art and well known for the Alamo, Fiesta Texas, the Riverwalk, and home of Chicano art.  

Today I am enjoying a jaunt along our iconic Riverwalk, passing by shops, restaurants, beautiful architecture, museums, and art galleries. I’m on my way to The Art Gallery, San Antonio’s newest gallery located on West Market St. right off the Riverwalk. As I approach the 2 story Spanish home-style gallery with gleaming white stucco walls, I can’t help but see a canvas upon which the landscape has been painted. The small front courtyard feels open and spacious, belying the fact that it was a parking lot barely 3 years ago. The 2nd-floor terrace has the most embellishment with wrought iron railing and a few sitting nooks. I can hear them inviting me to come up, have a seat, and enjoy the landscape San Antonio has to offer.

At the arched entryway, I’m greeted by the business duo behind The Art Gallery, Mina Trahan and Isabelle Lea. Both women are San Antonio transplants - Mina from New Orleans and Isabelle from Iowa. She laughs when I asked her where in Iowa and simply says, “a small town no one's heard of.” As I’m guided through the gallery, I’m once again struck by how spacious the inside is. I start my questions off by asking who designed the building and how they managed the illusion of space. Mina’s answer was surprising as she explains that she designed the building herself. “I’ve always had an interest in architecture,” she explains, as she lists off the handful of classes she’s taken on the subject.

We make our way from the perimeter of the main gallery towards the center; while, Isabelle tells me how she and Mina met during a studio art class at Tulane University. “It was my first year and Mina’s second,” she begins and tells how they bonded over mutual frustration for their roommates. By the following year, they were not only best friends and roommates but beginning to discuss a business partnership. “I don’t know if we intended to be serious, but when Mina finished her degree in Art History and Studio art, she stayed another year to take architecture and building design classes.” We further discuss the design of the gallery, including the clever use of lighting, the 2nd-floor balcony, and how the art on either floor can be seen from either floor. 
 
At the center of the gallery is the featured artist; this month is Isabelle Lea. The first thing you see is her concept art adorning the outside of temporary walls that form a large circle. Alongside the concept-pieces are images of Isabelle working, biographical information, and various color palettes. “I play a lot with color,” Isabelle explains, “these are what I make to develop the pallet for a specific piece.” She goes on to explain that she doesn’t paint the colors she sees but the colors she feels. I was pleased to see that the art I saw at the debut last week was as powerful now as it was then. Isabelle admits her inspiration for colors comes from Jan Davidsz de Heem, a Dutch painter who was part of the Vanitas art movement. “Vanitas was the first art that I really fell in love with,” Isabelle says as she points out various elements of her own work that are heavily influenced by Vanitas symbology. The paintings themselves are a study in allegory and tell a story that changes with each telling. Isabelle describes her own art as “a symbolic representation of the world I see that provides multiple storylines for those seeing it.”

The tour continues upstairs, and I continue to admire the art Mina has chosen to curate in The Art Gallery and how she has chosen to display it. Everything from the paintings on the walls to the small and large sculptures, jewelry, ceramics, and more are displayed in a way that takes nothing away from the art around it but accentuating the beauty of each piece. We sit in one of the nooks on the terrace overlooking the courtyard, and I am pleased to see the landscape is as beautiful as was promised earlier when I noticed the seating. My next burning question is the meaning of the name “The Art Gallery” and when both women laugh, I know it’s going to be a good story. “We tossed names at each other for months,” Isabelle begins. “We couldn’t agree, so one Friday, I said ‘if we don’t pick a name by Monday we’re calling it The Art Gallery’” finished Mina with a firm nod as the women begin laughing again. “Mina doesn’t make empty threats,” Isabelle says on a breath. It’s this sense of humor and teamwork that has gotten this pair of women through thick and thin over the years.

We decided to finish the interview at Schilo’s, a nice German restaurant just behind the gallery. After we’ve settled in and ordered, I ask the women what brought them to San Antonio. “We threw a dart,” Mina says simply. My look of confusion prompted Isabelle to explain further, “We didn’t know where we wanted to go, only that we didn’t want to stay in New Orleans or go to Iowa, so Mina put a world map up on the wall and I threw a dart at it.” Mina interrupts Isabelle’s version of the story and elaborates, “I blindfolded her first… spun her around 3 times and took cover.” When the dart landed on Texas, they each listed off their top 5 cities, and San Antonio was on both lists.

With a mix of expertise, the unconventional, and luck, these two women have created an art gallery that is successful and memorable. Before parting for the day, I ask both women one last question: what their favorite and least favorite mythical creatures are. Mina’s response is immediate, “land spirits and pixies” respectively, and doesn’t elaborate on her reasons. Isabelle’s response is slower to come, “Dragons because they're cool, I guess, and I’ve always wanted to paint one.  And werewolves because werewolf fiction just irritates me!”

The next time you find yourself on the Riverwalk near West Market St make sure to stop in The Art Gallery for an almost magical experience of local art, scenic views, and relaxing atmosphere.