Chapter 15

Monday morning and both of us rolled out to the alarm. It was the first day of a new school year—our junior year! I was looking forward to this year, mainly because from now on every course was an elective, no more of the necessary—but uninteresting—classroom drudgery. One of the classes I was looking forward to was Advanced Composition on Tuesdays and Thursdays. There had been several times when I had looked at some of my work and wished I could figure out a better way to set up the shot. One of the problems I'd found with a digital camera was a tendency to start clicking away and assume/hope I'd get what I wanted. There had to be a better way.

That afternoon found me sitting with Anse David in one of the coffee shops near the Institute, relaxing after classes when...

"Thomas, imagine finding you here." I turned and saw Mr. Grossfeldt behind me.

"Hello, sir. Would you like to join us?" Since I was no longer in his Survey of Western Art class I'd found it much easier to talk to him. Anse looked at me as if I'd gone over to the enemy side or something.

"Um, I've got to run," Anse said as he got up and offered his chair to our former nemesis.

"Thank you, Thomas," Mr. Grossfeldt said as he sat down, "and it was nice seeing you again, Mr. David."

Anse mumbled something and beat feet out of the shop. I thought he was afraid our former instructor was going to hit him up with one of the impossible questions for which he was famous—or was it infamous?

"Well, Thomas, how is your photographic business doing? I have seen some of your work and I have to admit you show a good grasp of composition and lighting. Obviously you were paying attention in my class."

"Yes, sir. Thank you. I try to keep what you taught us in mind when I'm working. I'm gratified you've noticed my work." Gratified? More like shocked that he'd even found any of my stuff around. I mean, other than photos on some businesses' web sites and a few display pieces I'd done for some local companies, I hadn't thought anyone would have noticed anything I'd done. Did he keep track of all his former students?

"Thomas, it is most fortunate I met you today. You see, I have the need for photographs of a number of items. Might you be interested?"

"Um, well, I suppose..." Tommy! Get your act together and quit sounding like the village idiot!

"I mean, yes, sir. Can you tell me what kind of items?"

"I have several examples of the early work of the Old Masters, as they are colloquially known. Oh, minor pieces, many of which have not been shown before."

"Will you want these for display, or for a web site?"

"They will be used as illustrations in a book I am writing."

Grossfeldt was writing a book?

"Sure, I'd be happy to do that for you. Do you want color or black-and-white?"

Grossfeldt sat there for a few seconds as if he wasn't sure how to respond. "Will it make a difference? I thought it was possible to change a color image to black-and-white?"

"It is," I answered, "but I've found there are some changes in lighting and exposure that give better results when I convert them to black-and-white."

Grossfeldt looked impressed. I was tempted to look for the second coming—trumpets and all.

We discussed his project for a few more minutes and set up a time for the shoot.

I could smell that Beth was home before she walked into my studio room. She'd stopped on the way home and bought some fried chicken.

"You won't believe what happened to me today," I said around a mouthful of chicken, and proceeded to tell her about my conversation with Grossfeldt.

"So you're going to do it?"

"Yeah. We set up a time for next week."

"How do you feel? I mean working for Mr. Grossfeldt."

"Scared shitless. No, really, I am a little nervous. I mean, he's the guy who really rode me in class, but I think I learned a lot from him and now I have to show him I remember everything.

"How was your day?"

"Ugh! Don't ask! I'm having a hard time with my fluid dynamics class. For some reason it's is giving me fits. I'll get it, but it's going to take a lot of work. I've pretty much given up on auditioning for any shows this quarter. Maybe something next summer, but not now."

Tuesday was my first Advanced Composition class and sitting in class would be interesting. If for no other reason than watching our instructor, Ms. Jones. There was a rumor floating around that she almost made it as a Playboy centerfold. I don't know if it was true, but looking at her was no hardship. Concentrating, maybe. Watching her move, not a bit!

Thursday after school was my first self-defense session since the summer break, and I noticed that both Amanda and the young teenager from the spring session were back.

"Hi, my name is Andy," he said.

"Hi, I'm Tommy, and this is Amanda," I said, motioning to our well-endowed session-mate.

"Um ... h-hi," the young boy stammered.

"Well, hi yourself, Andy," she said. "And I remember you from last Spring's classes, Tommy."

Uh-oh, this doesn't sound good. I probably shouldn't have admitted to knowing her name. Maybe I could do something to de-fuse the situation. "Yeah, my fiancé suggested maybe a class like this would be a good way to get some exercise."

"I don't know, you look pretty good to me," Amanda said with a sexy little pout.

Oh, shit, she didn't take the hint.

"Alright, everyone," Kurt said. "Let's start with some warm-ups."

Amanda took her familiar position in the row ahead of Andy and me and did everything she could to make it obvious that her gi was filled with nothing but healthy girl. I was sure if I looked at a dictionary under "callipygous" I'd see her picture.

I was pleasantly surprised at how much I remembered from my first lessons, and my little fib about getting exercise sure was true—by the time our hour was done I'd worked up a healthy sweat.

"Man, it's going to feel good to take a shower," I said, wiping the perspiration from my face.

"You need someone to wash your back?" Amanda asked with a leer as I walked toward the changing-room.

"Um, no thanks. My fiancé will be home by the time I get there and she knows how to get all those hard-to-reach spots." I glanced over at Andy and saw a look of pure longing. I also noticed he was holding his hands over his crotch and I felt sorry for the youngster. I remembered all too well what it was like to be his age, even though I'd never had anyone like Amanda to put those ideas in my head—either of them.

When I got home I told Beth about Amanda and her antics.

I was just finishing with my shower when Beth pulled back the curtain. "Move over, you can wash my back," she said with a grin. And her front, and everything in between. It didn't take long for any thought of Amanda to disappear. Which was probably Beth's intent, I thought. Well, I thought it as soon as I was again capable of thought.

Mr. Grossfeldt met me at his door. "Come in, Thomas. May I help you with your equipment?"

"Thank you. I guess I have a habit of carrying more stuff than I really need, but I'd rather bring something I end up not using than try to make do because I was trying to travel light."

"Very wise of you. I have my pieces in the solarium."

Solarium? I thought to myself as he led the way to what looked like a porch to me.

As I worked my way through Mr. Grossfeldt's pieces I was reminded of doing the shots for the Institute's catalog—some flat art and several sculptures. None of them looked familiar until I got down to the last painting. "Mr. Grossfeldt, you've been holding out on me. I recognize this painting from your class."

"You have a good memory, Thomas, but this is not the piece of which you are thinking, but a work the artist did many years before."

"Was that common? I mean, for an artist to paint the same work again?"

"It was not uncommon for an artist to paint more than one version of the same work, but it was rare for one to revisit a piece many years later. In this case, there were almost twenty years between this one and the one you saw in the book."

I finished that last painting, but before I started breaking down my equipment I had a thought.

"Mr. Grossfeldt, do you have a photo of yourself for the book jacket?"

"No, no, I do not. Can you take one for me?"

"Certainly. Where would you like it done?"

"Oh, I do not know. Perhaps my desk?"

"That seems like a good place," I said. "I can move my lights in there with no problem."

Another twenty minutes and I was finished.

"Thomas, I know we already arrived at a price for my original request. How much will you charge for the portrait?"

"Oh, just a credit line with the photo will be enough," I answered.

"Are you certain? I do not expect any special consideration."

"Yes, the credit line will be enough, as long as you will allow me to add it to my portfolio."

"That would be more than reasonable. Thank you. Let me help you carry your equipment to your vehicle."

We got everything loaded and I started for home, again amazed at how human he could be.

A week later I emailed him the proofs and waited for his reaction. Obviously the book meant a lot to him and I tried to give him the best images I could, but I was still expecting to have to re-shoot at least a couple of items.

Three days later I got a call from Mr. Grossfeldt praising my work and giving me a list of the pictures he wanted for the book. I told him I'd bring a CD with the hi-rez files to school the next day.

It was almost the end of October when Beth grabbed me as I walked in from the garage after cleaning up the yard. "Come on, Tommy, we're going shopping!"

Oh, great, my least favorite way of killing an otherwise beautiful Fall day.

"Beth, we just picked up groceries yesterday. Did you forget something?"

"Nope, this is a clothes expedition!"

"Clothes? What do you need now?" I mean, that shopping expedition our first weekend together had been special, but the thrill had worn off.

"Not me ... you," she said with a giggle.

"I don't have enough now?" As much as I disliked standing around while my lady tried on clothes, I absolutely despised shopping for myself.

"Not like this!"

"You're going to have to drive. If you're going to drag me shopping, I'm not going to help you in your abuse."

Our first stop was a used clothing store, where Beth had me buy a beat-up black leather jacket and a pair of black engineer boots that looked as if they'd seen better days. Her next stop was at the Nostalgia Candy Company, where the only thing she bought was a pack of candy cigarettes. What was she up to?

To make it up to me for dragging me around, she took me to our favorite campus steak house for dinner.

"Okay, what's up? I mean the jacket and boots okay, but candy cigarettes?"

Her reply was just a big grin. I was being set up again, but for what?

We got home and found Cindy and Greg sitting on the stairs waiting for us.

"We've got some news for you!" Cindy was almost bubbling over.

"What's up?" Beth asked.

"There're going to be three of us upstairs!"

"Three? Is one of your sisters moving in?" I asked.

Cindy just shook her head. "Nope, but it will be a relative!"

Suddenly Beth let out a screech and grabbed her friend. "When? How long have you known?"

"We just found out today," Greg said, slipping a word in edgeways.

Suddenly the light came on. "You guys are having a baby?"

"Yeah, can you believe it? It must have happened when we were on the island," Cindy said.

I looked at Beth and could see how happy she was for our friends. Was she changing her mind about finishing school before we moved on to the next step in our relationship?

We were in bed that night when I asked Beth about it.

"Why would you think that?" she asked. "I mean I'm happy for Cindy and Greg, but that doesn't mean I'm in a hurry to start a family. I've always said I want to finish school first, and I still do. How about you?"

"I want a family, but I'd like to get settled first."

"Then we're in agreement. Tommy, we can be happy for our friends without necessarily wanting to join them."

The Saturday before Halloween I was sitting at my drafting table, busy cleaning out files from my computer, when Beth came into the room. "Come on, Tommy, we're going to be late!"

Late? Late for what? I turned around and figured out 'what' as soon as I saw my lady standing there in a pink angora sweater and black poodle skirt, complete with white poodles. That's when I remembered the party one of the sororities was throwing. Beth wasn't a member of the sorority, but a classmate of hers had invited us.

"Hurry up! Your costume is on the bed."

I walked into the bedroom and saw a pair of black jeans, a white t-shirt, and my 'new' black leather jacket on the bed, and boots on the floor at the foot of the bed. That explained our shopping trip.

When I grabbed my boot I noticed it was heavier than it should have been. I look inside and found myself face-to-face with Ghost. "And what are you doing in there?" I asked our resident pest as I pulled him out and set him on the floor. He walked off to find another place to snooze, but only after I got a nasty look for interrupting his nap.

Beth met me in the kitchen and gave me the once over. "Something is missing," she said with a frown. "I know!" she added as she walked up and rolled the pack of candy cigarettes into my shirt sleeve. "Now you're ready!"

"No, I'm not. Where are my shades? Gotta have my shades!"

Beth just chuckled and tossed me my sun glasses.

"Now I'm ready," I said as I slipped the glasses in place.

The sorority house was only a couple of blocks away so we walked over, meeting a few more party-goers on the way.

It was pretty obvious which house was holding the party—the whole yard was covered in people in costume, some ordinary and some totally outrageous. It reminded me of our theatre parties back in high school ... on steroids.