modernknight (modernknight) wrote in schisms, @ 2019-03-25 19:49:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !character: ilsa montrose, !character: laura kramer, !complete, !log |
Who: Laura & Ilsa
What: First meeting
When: Tuesday 3/5, mid-morning [Backdated]
Where Coffee shop
Rating: None
Status: Complete
Laura was on autopilot. It had been a particularly busy morning at the coffee shop, people popping in and out to get something to warm them up for the frigid day. She’d lost count of how many drinks she’d made: frappes, lattes, cappuccinos, americanos, doppios, whatever-the-hell-these-people-drank. She was in a daze, and couldn’t focus. Maybe it was the slight hangover, maybe it was because Caitlyn was with Caspian this weekend. Either way, Laura was off and it showed. When cleaning the steamer, she accidentally sprayed hot air onto her hand, burning her hand. But the sensation barely registered. Blinking, she grabbed a nearby clean towel, covered her hand, and asked to take a break.
But the last thing Laura needed was unoccupied time. Once her co-worker took over the drink orders, she shuffled out from behind the counter and busied herself with cleaning off the little tables dispersed throughout the cafe. She probably should have wrapped her hand, but she didn’t really care. Moving to a table, she reached for a cup, about to clear it when she finally caught herself. That was not an empty, someone was sitting right there, about to take a sip from it. Offering an embarrassed, apologetic look to the pretty blonde, Laura spoke softly, her voice dry and raspy. “Sorry about that. Not paying attention. Can I get you a refill or anything?”
“Oh?”
Ilsa almost hadn’t realized anyone was going after her cup, she hadn’t been looking at it when she reached for it to take a sip. Instead she’d been more focused on the proposal she was working on to get a commission for a sculpture.
People thought artists were all dreamers with their heads in the clouds doing art all the time and Ilsa wished she could be that way. Sure she could sell her smaller paintings in coffee shops and art galleries, but it was early in her career and she was still establishing herself. For larger projects she had to sell the idea and figure out how much it would cost her in materials and time before she could sell it to a prospective client and get the funding for it. Which was why she was sitting in a coffee shop frowning at her laptop as she tried to put everything together.
She looked up at the barista, and then took a look around. The shop was practically empty, it had been full when she’d snagged the seat, and the shadows were considerably different than they had been. A sip of coffee and she made a face at the realization it was cold. “That’d be grand, thanks.” Her stomach let out a little growl and she gave the petite brunette a weak smile. “And maybe one o’ those delicious blueberry muffins?” If she was going to take up space she needed to be a good patron, and she could use the fuel.
Laura nodded to the request with a small smile. She was glad the woman wasn’t upset by the misstep, the last thing she needed was a customer complaining about her. She didn’t think that would be enough to get her fired, she’d been working at this same shop for years now. But she was having an off day and didn’t want to get sent home where things would inevitably be worse.
“Sure. Just a regular coffee?” She was already clearing the old cup to bring a fresh one, and glanced over to the pastry display to make sure there were still muffins left. “Would you like the muffin warmed? They’re so much better that way.”
“With cream and sugar, please.” Ilsa clarified, adding with a smile: “Taking it black is for heathens.” She’d originally been a tea drinker but living in the US had converted her to a coffee lover. “And oh yes please, I’d like that very much.”
In between the time it took for the barista to pour her another coffee and heat up the muffin Ilsa took another look at her proposal and reluctantly saved and closed out the file. She was starting to go cross eyed from looking at the monitor and soon she’d need to go get some actual art done instead of just planning it.
Laura nodded with a polite smile and headed off to get the woman’s order. She took a moment to clean and wrap her hand before preparing the order. Once everything was ready, she carried the items out of a tray to the woman and set them down beside her. “There you are. Just in time for a break, it looks like? You’ve been at that most of the morning.” Laura made an effort to try to pay attention to all of the customers, but some stood out more than others. Those who lingered were easier to keep track of, she was always curious about what they were doing but never had the nerve to ask.
“Aye, perfect timing.” Ilsa agreed with a wry smile, reaching for the hot coffee. After mixing in a healthy dose of cream and sugar she took a sip and nodded in appreciation. “I’m working on a proposal for a mural and there's many hoops tae jump through to get the funding.”
She paused to break off a part of the muffin and pop it in her mouth. “Mmm, delicious!”
Laura smiled, glad that she enjoyed the muffin. Maybe one of these days she would speak up and offer to do some baking for the shop, she knew she could make even better things than they already carried. Curious, she studied the woman a moment before asking. “What kind of mural are you proposing to create? I never knew there was even that sort of business around those things, but it makes sense. Everything costs money.” As an afterthought, Laura blushed a little. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be nosey. It just sounds a lot more interesting that most things around here.”
“It's no problem,” Ilsa assured her, smiling. She never got tired of talking about art and how she did what she did. “It’s for a community center in Fordham Heights, so I have to go in detail about how I’d meet the requirements and what my budget would be. The theme is supposed to be about nature in the city. It’s more a way to show my versatility as an artist than anything, most of my paintings are smaller and done on canvas.” And she sketched and sculpted, but that was more than she needed to say right now.
She took another sip of coffee and eyed the other woman curiously. “What sorts o’ things do ye hear around here, then?”
Laura relaxed just slightly, glad she hadn’t pissed off a customer by intruding. “That’s very cool. I really admire people who are creative.” She hesitated a moment, trying to think of the last interesting thing she heard in the coffee shop then just ended up shrugging with a little laugh. “Other than some gossip between girlfriends and a couples argument here and there, nothing all that special. Usually the people who are working keep to themselves and I just guess at what they do.”
“That’s no fun.” Ilsa offered, glad she hadn’t gone into the restaurant trade while at school. It seemed a thankless job that didn’t pay all that well. Not that she had room to throw stones, if she didn’t have her healing factor she might have taken some crummy job just for the health insurance and done art on the side.
“Have you worked here long? I’m sure you must have seen all kinds of people.”
Laura glanced around, making sure no one else needed attention before she got back to chatting with the woman. “I’ve been here… for years.” She didn’t say specifically how long, mostly because she was embarrassed. A lot of the other baristas and servers considered this place just a stepping stone, something to do on the side while they focused on their passion. Others had moved up from cashier to manager before leaving. But Laura had remained rather sedentary. Her boss told her that the customers liked to see a familiar face, but Laura knew that the man was just trying to be nice. “Lots of people come in and out every day, it’s a good place to people watch.”
“Oh you’re so right! Ever since they were invented and artists started picking everyday subjects to show we’ve been drawn to coffee shops for just that reason.” Ilsa smirked and nodded. “You can see anything and everything if you just sit and watch people come and go long enough.” She’d done that too, especially back in her undergrad days. Just paid for two or three coffees and sat there for hours watching people and sometimes sketching down a face or a pose here and there. It had been great for inspiration.
If she’d picked up on Laura’s embarrassment she gave no sign of it.
Shifting slightly from one foot to the other, she tucked her bandaged hand behind her back out of sight. “Being an artist must be a really interesting job. Have you been at it long?” To Laura, the woman was young, it had to be a relatively new career. But she also knew nothing about art and how one got started in the field professionally. “And feel free to tell me to get lost if I’m interrupting your work or break from work.”
“As in trying to do it professionally full time? About three years not including graduate school.” Ilsa replied promptly, not bothered at all by the question. “But I’ve been making art all my life really. My mum is an artist, so I guess I inherited it from her. So far I’ve been doing all right, but it isn’t a life for the faint-hearted” The modeling gigs helped, but she wasn’t going to go into that right now.
“Dinna fash, it’s no trouble.” She waved off the out with a smile. “I was going cross eyed just now anyway, definitely time to let it sit for a while. There’s a few more days before I have to get it in.”
Laura relaxed slightly and smiled as the woman seemed happy to share with her. Tucking a dark wave behind her ear, she studied her as she spoke, kind of fascinated by simply the idea of the idea of being creative for a living. “That sounds really interesting. But it’s also good to know that it takes hard work and dedication too. I hope my daughter doesn’t follow in my footsteps. But I don’t know if she would want to be an artist.”
“Mum wanted me to be a model.” Ilsa shrugged. “She was quite cross with me for choosing art full time instead of that.” What her mother thought didn’t really matter much to her anymore, but it was still a point to share. “If your daughter is as headstrong as I was, there’ll be no use arguing with her if she chooses to do something that you disapprove. But we artists are a passionate bunch ye ken, there’s a lot o’ mutual support. Most of the time anyway.” There were always assholes in every community, artists were no exception.
“How old is she?”
The concept of belonging to any sort of group or community felt foreign to Laura. There were groups of people she worked with, in varying capacities. But she’d never really felt accepted or supported by them. She did her job, and was respect, but she didn’t think she meant much more to anyone beyond that.
Laura listened carefully with a little nod. She could see already that Caitlyn would be headstrong, and was clearly smart. Laura just wanted her child to be safe and happy, anything else she’d manage. “She’s eight.”
“Aye, that’s a fine age. Still care free and innocent but starting to want independence.” Or at least that’s how it was with her anyway, looking back at it. “I’m sure she’s the apple of your eye.”
She didn’t mind talking with the other woman, but didn’t want to tie her up either. “Don’t let me hold you up if you need to get back to work, I wouldnae want to get you in trouble listening to me blather on.”
“She is my world.” Laura’s expression changed to one of true adoration as she thought about her child for a moment. Without Caitlyn… well, Laura knew she wouldn’t still be alive if it weren’t for that little girl. There’d be no reason to be.
Blinking back to reality, Laura glanced around and saw that she should be getting back. It was a little disappointing, but it always was. She never connected really with anyone. She usually didn’t allow it, and when she wanted to, there wasn’t much chance. “Oh, you’re right. I’m sorry. It was very nice chatting with you. I hope your grant is successful.”
“Don’t be sorry, I’ve enjoyed talking with you but truth be told I ought to be moving on too.” She stood up and extended a hand. “I’m Ilsa by the way, a pleasure to meet you...?”
Offering her clear hand, she shook Ilsa’s hand lightly, her own hand warm to the touch. “I’m Laura, it’s very nice to meet you.”
Ilsa smiled and let go of the hand after a brief shake and started gathering up her things. “I’ll see you around then, Luara. I’ll come by sometime and we’ll have a proper chat. Thanks for the vote of encouragement on the grant.”
Moving to clear the table, Laura nodded to Ilsa with a small smile. “Have a nice day, it’ll be nice to meet again soon.”