All my new energy, all the strength of a Power, and I cannot get one stubborn human to hear my voice.
That is not true. She hears me, I know that—my words are reaching through her aura, sinking deep into her subconscious mind. But she is fighting me, fighting the wisdom that I offer. I can’t even be angry with her, because she is doing this to protect herself. But she is wrong.
She met with Oliver this evening after work at the same bar where she first asked him out. The atmosphere between them was very different than that time—then, she was relieved to step out of the heat into the cool air of the bar. Now the chill was between the two of them, and neither of them enjoyed it.
Oliver played it off well, at first, congratulating her for a great success in the exhibit. He had clipped three separate reviews out of three different newspapers and brought them to her, and for that she smiled and thanked him. But her words were brief, and she would not meet his eyes.
“How did it go with the museum executives?” he asked her, leaning across the table. “Any job offers?”
Shannon traced one finger around the edge of her glass. “One,” she said.
Oliver’s eyes and smile widened. “The Hirshhorn?”
Shannon’s smile vanished in a rush of irritation. “No. There was someone there from the Hirshhorn, but all he gave me was a glorified pat on the back.” She tossed her head. “There probably aren’t any openings right now anyway.”
“Probably not,” Oliver allowed, but he leaned back again.
Shannon cleared her throat. “No, the offer came from a friend of Jace’s who came up special from North Carolina—just to see my exhibit! Can you believe it?”
I was pleased by the happy glow in her eyes, but not pleased by the smugness behind it.
“Of course I can,” Oliver said, laughing. “What museum were they from?”
“The Bechtler. I had to look it up, but it’s actually quite nice. It’s in Charlotte and even though it’s small, it gets very good reviews. They need a collections manager, and the woman was very impressed with the way I put this exhibit together on short notice. She wants me to start right away—on the 27th!”
Oliver was startled by that. “So soon?”
Shannon was pleased by the dismay that he could not hide, but not in a way that softened her at all. She gloated over it, rather, using it to build her self-regard higher. “Yes. It’s a good position and it pays surprisingly well for such a little place. And I’ll be closer to my family down there, and there’s a future in it, since the woman told me that she just recently got married and she and her husband want to start a family, so maybe I’ll take her place in a few years!”
Oliver frowned at her. “It sounds like you have already made up your mind.”
“You’ve hurt him,” I whispered to her.
She waved me away. “I’d be a fool not to take the job. What else am I going to do?”
Oliver rubbed his chin, then leaned forward again, his elbows resting on the table and his eyes fixed on Shannon’s face. “I wasn’t going to say anything to you until he’d made a decision,” he said, “but I spoke to a friend of mine about you. He works at the International Child Art Foundation, and he was impressed by what you did for Nate. He said he would look into getting you a position there, if you wanted it.”
Shannon was surprised by this. “I’ve heard of that. Isn’t it a nonprofit?”
“A very good one,” Oliver answered. “It runs a number of programs to help foster creativity and art education. I think you would be very good at that, Shannon. You’ve been so good with Nate these past few weeks. You would enjoy this, I think.”
Shannon was shocked into silence, and for a hopeful moment, I thought that Danit had been wrong—that this, and not the opening night of the exhibit, was Shannon’s true moment of choice. Here there were two roads presented to her, one offering prestige and money and loneliness, the other passion and kindness and helping young people find the love for art that she was just beginning to discover in herself.
I wrapped my wings around her and sent the feeling of wonder through her that she had felt on first seeing that painting in the subway. “You can give this to others,” I whispered to her. “You can feel it every day as you see children learn to love what you love. You can help so many, Shannon, and do wondrous and inspiring things.”
Seeing the uncertainty in her eyes, Oliver smiled gently and reached across the table for her hand. “And even though it may not pay very well or lead to a high-powered career,” he murmured, “it would mean you could stay here. And there might be a different sort of future waiting for you.”
Shannon’s heart leapt, and for an instant I thought I had done it. I thought I had saved her.
But Danit was right. She has already made her choice.
She snatched her hand away, and a heavy silence fell between them.
“No,” I cried into her ear. “He is offering himself, look at him! See in his eyes—he is not going to leave you! If you will just be brave enough—”
“If I don’t take this job now, they’ll offer it to someone else,” Shannon said, speaking over me. “And you said your friend hadn’t gotten back to you yet, has he?”
Oliver slowly drew his hand back and set it in his lap. “No,” he said. “No, he hasn’t.”
“Well, I appreciate you doing that,” she said, “but you’re right. I’ve made up my mind.” She took a breath and made herself look at him, a stiff smile on her face. “Look, Oliver, I’ve had a great time with you, and I really am glad you’ve been around. But I think it’s time for me to move on, and I hope you can be happy for me.”
Oliver considered her. There was hurt in his aura, but also a rueful amusement—she had warned him, had she not? What kind of person she was. He had simply believed, as I had and still do, that she could be better if she chose.
The problem is not in her ability to do so, but her will. And her will is strong in all the worst ways.
“Of course, Shannon,” he said. “I really do wish you all the best, then.”
Shannon beamed and jumped to her feet. “Well, I’d better be off—I have a million things to do before I go. I’ve got to let Jace know that I’m taking the position and start looking for a place, and maybe I should start packing—” Already miles away, she came around the table and kissed Oliver on the cheek.
He caught her wrist and made her look at him. “It doesn’t have to be over, you know,” he said. “North Carolina is not that far away, and they have planes and trains and cell phones.” He ran one finger down her cheek and smiled. “I’m willing to try if you are.”
She blinked at him, and I pressed, pleaded—to no avail.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said, stepping back and closing herself off entirely. “I’m sorry, I just think I’ll be too busy—”
“All right then,” he said, and now it was his turn to turn away, to protect himself. “Good luck to you, Shannon.”
She stood there, looking at him, feeling hollow. Then she turned on her heel and walked out the door.
I stayed with Oliver, for I did not see the point in going after Shannon if she wasn’t going to listen. I wrapped him in my wings and gave him what comfort I could offer. “I am sorry,” I told him, and I am.
But I am more sorry for Shannon. I am afraid of how this will come back to hurt her in the days ahead.