Love Hate Relationship

Chapter 46

Twelve-year-old Clarke Griffin walked through the front door to her house, with her Grandma Evelyn in tow. She was chatting excitedly about all the great art work they had just seen at the gallery downtown. "Do you think someday my art will hang in that gallery, Gram Ev?"

"I don't see why not Clarke. You're talented, and if you work hard, great things will happen for you," her Grandma replied, leaning down to place a kiss on her granddaughter's head.

"Maybe we can go to the art store tomorrow, I need an eighteen-inch canvas. I cut out this sunrise from a magazine, and I want to paint it. I have my own money from babysitting that I can use."

"Absolutely, and don't forget Christmas is coming up. Make sure you write down anything else you need."

Abby came out of the kitchen. "Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Did you two have fun?" she asked.

"Mom, I met one of the artists at the gallery. I talked to her about how she got started, and we talked for like, fifteen minutes. And tomorrow Gram and I are going shopping for a canvas."

"That's great honey, but don't forget you have that science project due Monday, and you haven't even started it yet. So, no art shopping tomorrow. You have homework to do. Future doctors do not fail science class. You're lucky we even let you go to this little art show of yours today."

"But it was cool."

"Art is a hobby, not a career. We've had this discussion many times. Now go upstairs honey, and wash up for dinner."

Clarke grabbed her Gram's hand and they both trudged up the steps to Clarke's bedroom. She flopped on the bed, threw her arm dramatically over her eyes, and sighed. "They hate art," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. "They'll never let me be an artist."

Gram Ev came and sat on the bed with her, and Clarke moved close to lay her head down in her lap. She stroked Clarke's hair. "My girl, you can be whatever you want to be. The world is your oyster. When you're old enough, you can make your own decisions about your life. Whether you want to be a doctor, or a painter, or a teacher."

Clarke huffed. "Try telling that to them."

Gram Ev had tried in the past to tell her son to encourage Clarke's obvious talent for art, but both he and Abby could be stubborn as mules. "I'll talk to them again."

"Really?"

"I will."

"Thank you, Gram," and Clarke turned into her Gram and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"You're welcome, munchkin."

Clarke pulled her head away and looked up at her favorite person in the world. "I don't wanna be a doctor. It sounds boring. All that medical stuff, I'll be going to school forever. And hospitals smell."

"Smell? What do they smell like?"

"Mediciney. And everything's always so white looking. There's never any color. Ugh. What do you really think? Do you think I should be a doctor? Mom and Dad say I'm too smart to not be a doctor. And since they're doctors, I should be one." She hid her face in her Gram's waist again.

"Well, you are smart as a whip. And being a doctor is a very honorable career."

"Why can't art be a career?" Clarke asked, her voice muffled.

"It can be. You can do many things with art. You could paint or draw pictures and sell them. You could teach art. You could be an illustrator..."