I could only nod because it was hard to find the words to express how truly grateful I was. If I tried to say too much, I knew I would break.
“Thank you,” I managed. “For seeing me. For even… considering me.”
“You earned it,” she replied. “Now let us make sure the rest of the city sees you too.”
Blushing, I nodded. “Okay.”
“And I have someone who can help you even more. He handles a lot of the development and community partnerships for our family. His name is Sincere. He is always looking for real community programming to attach to what they are building. If he sees how people respond to your work, he could help us plug you into other things like grants, sponsors, maybe even getting your pieces into some of the new buildings and community spaces they are opening. If this goes well, this could be much more than just one night.”
My heart was beating so fast. Nobody had ever talked about my art like that. “I… I don’t even know what to say.”
“Say you’re ready to work,” Aria replied with a beautiful and assuring smile. “We’ll handle the rest.”
My phone started vibrating again against the table. I knew it was Kodi.
Aria quickly glanced at it, then back at me. “I’ll have my assistant send you some dates. You good with that?”
I nodded, eyes burning with grateful tears that wanted to fall. “Yes, of course, I’m good with that.”
By the time I got the kids fed, bathed, and in bed, I had twenty-five missed calls from Kodi.
If he could not respect the opportunity that might actually change his baby’s mother and children’s lives, then he did not deserve the little bit of me he was still getting.
He eventually stopped calling.
I showered, put on a Mumu, and climbed into bed. My apartment was quiet, but I could still hear a car passing outside of my window or someone in the building walking heavily upstairs.
I picked my phone back up and opened the Voss Contemporary House Instagram page.
I slowly scrolled past posts of celebrities, prominent Black artists, the large art pieces, and pictures of events and exhibits.
For the first time, instead of feeling like I was just looking in from the outside, I let myself imagine my work on those walls and my name in one of those captions. I imagined my kids pictured alongside Aria’s, dressed up and running around the gallery like they belonged there too.
I took a breath and told myself, “I’m going to do this. And I’m going to do my best work. No matter what.”
This opportunity was unbelievable. This type of blessing only happened to people like me in movies or books. I still didn’t believe that it would really happen. I assumed Aria would get so busy with legit opportunities that she would forget all about me. But if by chance she saw it in her heart to give me this opportunity, I had to give it my all and my best work, and I couldn’t let life stop me.
As I continued to scroll through pictures and reels, I started seeing faces I recognized. There was a group shot from some private event. Aria was standing in the middle, surrounded by four men in suits. My mother’s voice from the town hall played in my head, calling them “gangsters” under her breath. I could not forget how those fine-ass men looked if I tried. The photo did not tag them, but I knew it was them.
The big, dark-skinned one stood close to Aria with his hand on the small of her back. Even in the picture, he looked protective. They both had wedding bands on. I did not know his name, but it was obvious that was her man, or husband, most likely.
The irony wasn’t lost on me at all. The biggest opportunity of my career had come through the same so-called gangstas my mother had been standing up against at that town hall meeting.
Thinking of how my mother would lose her shit when she found out had me cackling to myself.
I swiped again and then sat straight up. There he was. Mr. Glasses. In this picture, he was in a fitted suit that hugged his shoulders just right and a diamond-encrusted watch peeking from his cuff. The glasses were the same, but now I could see his face clearly. He looked… exquisite. He looked sophisticated but still somehow dangerous, like he could talk numbers with a banker and still walk a block everyone else was too scared to walk.
My heart actually skipped. It was stupid, but I felt a little nervous, sitting there in my bonnet and mumu, like he could see me staring at him through the screen and knew I was stuck on his picture. I tried to scroll past, then ended up scrolling back up, looking at him one more time.
Then a call interrupted my ogling, a call from my mother.
“Hey, Ma,” I answered.
“Hey, baby,” she replied. “How did it go? I have been praying all day.”
I smiled into the phone. “It went… good. Better than good, actually.”
I told her about Aria, about the way she talked about my art, and about “Mothers of the Block.”
