45. Rita Jane Gets Discovered
Rita Jane was finishing up her lunch shift, looking forward to an afternoon of painting in her studio, when Paul stopped her.
“Rita Jane, I’d like you to meet my friend, Peter LaRochelle. He’s in the corner booth.”
She hadn’t had a chance to paint seriously for months and had been trying hard to get back into a regular routine. She didn’t want to be distracted and end up in a long conversation with someone she didn’t even know.
“I’m really in a hurry to get home,” Rita Jane said. “Can it wait?”
“No,” Paul said.
Reluctantly, Rita Jane followed Paul to the table and shook hands with a small man, neatly dressed, who looked like he might be an accountant. He smelled like patchouli, which didn’t fit with his formal attire
“Peter’s been admiring your work,” Paul said.
“What work?” Rita Jane asked.
“This piece,” Peter said pointing to the picture of Emad’s daughter praying for her Daddy to come home from jail that Paul had hung in a corner of the restaurant.
“Thank you,” Rita Jane said.
“Do you have a minute to talk,” Peter asked.
“I’m kind of in a hurry,” Rita Jane said, but Paul glared at her, so she sat down across from Peter. A few extra minutes wouldn’t make that much difference.
Paul brought over two tall glasses of ice tea before Rita Jane had a chance to say no.
“I work for the District,” Peter said. Rita Jane nodded politely wondering why she should care what this man did for a living. “I’m an artist, actually.” That got Rita Jane’s attention. “I’m the Curator for Art in the District of Columbia Public Buildings, or CAD for short.”
“Really?” Rita Jane was curious. She had never met anyone who was both an artist and a government worker.
“I commission artists to do works of art for public buildings. There is a little known law that requires that a certain portion of all federal contracts for large public buildings must be spent on art.”
“That’s great,” Rita Jane said, still unclear what any of this had to do with her.
“I’d like you to submit a RFP to paint a mural at a soon-to-be-built community center in the Cardozo neighborhood near U Street.”
Rita Jane could hardly believe what she was hearing. She was being asked to submit a proposal to paint a public mural. This was the dream of a lifetime, but all she could think of was that in less than a month she would be a mother.
“I’m flattered. I truly am. But my partner is having a baby in less than a month. I don’t think I’d have time to submit a proposal.”
Paul, who had been eavesdropping nearby, called over, “I can help,” he said cheerfully. “You can use slides from the ‘Color of Fear’ exhibit. It will be easy.”
Peter took a business card from his suit jacket pocket and handed it to her. “Post-September 11 themes are very popular. Your ‘Color of Fear’ concept is definitely along the lines of what the committee is looking for.”
“When are the proposals due?” Rita Jane asked.
“August 1.” He stood and picked up his black attaché case. Then he took Rita Jane’s hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it. “Enchanted,” he said before departing the restaurant.
As soon as they were sure that he was safely outside, Rita Jane burst into giggles. Paul said, “He’s a bit of a fruit cake, but he’s a nice guy. He’s done a lot to promote artists in this town. It’s a good thing I had that painting on display. This may be your lucky break.”
“Do you really think I’d have time?” Rita Jane asked. Already her mind was racing with possibilities for the mural.
“It’ll be tough, but I’ll help you. I’ve got loads of free time now that Claudia’s case has settled. Besides, I owe you after all the hours you’ve put in around here.”
She felt the heat and humidity suck the energy out of her as soon as she left the air-conditioned restaurant. She chose to walk home on the well-shaded Maple Street instead of the more direct path down Carroll Avenue. With each pace, she worked out the details of the proposal in her mind. She wasn’t ready to go inside yet, wanting to savor the news a little longer and have time to process it herself.
The twins were playing in the sandbox when she arrived in the piazza. She sat down at an outdoor table and pulled out her sketchbook, happily sketching the children, who were oblivious to her. The thought occurred to her again that she should paint a mural on the wall of the children’s room. That could be like a dress rehearsal — she could paint a smaller version of the mural on the kids’ room and use that as part of her proposal submission. Now she needed a theme. She needed inspiration and help from her higher power. She finished up the sketch and wrote on the bottom, “Mural proposal,” and ripped out the sheet of paper to put into her God box.