Page 34 of When Fate Breaks
Evangeline blows her hair out of her face before looking back up at me. “Sorry. Yes, everything’s okay. I just hate this stuff.”
“What stuff?”
“We…uh,” she trails off, plopping her phone back on top of her binder and fidgeting with her shirt sleeve. “We have our wedding shower coming up in a couple of weeks.”
I resist the urge to grind my teeth as I nod.
“I have a bunch of people asking me questions about planning and preferences and one of my friends is…trying to get me to shop.”
“Wow.”
“Insisting actually. She’s been trying to take me for weeks.”
I catch myself mid-snort. “The audacity.”
“I know, right?” Evangeline smirks, rolling her eyes as she steps away from the greenhouse. “Well, I’ve gotta run.”
“Hey?” I call, making her pause. “I’m gonna be doing demo all day today, but, by tomorrow afternoon, I should be ready to get started on some rebuilding. Could we swing by Jacks Hardware tomorrow to grab a few things?”
“Oh,” she mutters. “I– What do you need? I’ll grab it.”
“Well, I don’t need it just yet. And it’s kind of a lot. It’d be easier if I could just take a look in person. And I’d love to see your parents and the place.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to be there today,” she replies, straightening her stack of binders. “Might as well grab you the immediate stuff in the meantime?” I tilt my head at her. “You’ll be here awhile,” she continues. “We can go together later.”
I think about pushing the subject but decide to leave it. “Well, alright.” She’s right. I’ll be here for a couple more weeks. I’ll get there eventually. She might as well bring some things back if she’ll be there already. “I’ll text you a list?”
“Perfect,” she nods. “See you later?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Evangeline offers one last small smile before exiting the backyard through the gate. It’s only a few seconds later that I hear her truck power to life and pull out of the driveway.
* * *
It’sa couple of hours later when I successfully remove the last pane of glass. I set it with the others, taking a step back to survey the situation. I realize with a lot of love and some elbow grease, I should easily be able to salvage about two-thirds of them, which is a 66% better start than I initially thought I was going to have.
I head back into the greenhouse, planning to get started on clearing out the existing shelves and potting tables, but pause in front of the door leading inside the house. It suddenly occurs to me that I haven’t had a sip of water in hours, nor have I eaten today. My stomach rumbling in response to my thoughts is what pushes my feet forward and into the house.
The door closes behind me and I am met with eerie silence. Well, technically, this house isalwayseerily silent. I think it’s impossible not to be with how ridiculously large it is. But, still, being entirely alone in it adds a whole new element.
I make a beeline for the kitchen and have a sloppily made turkey and cheese sandwich and two large glasses of water down within minutes. I move to go straight back to the greenhouse, but hesitate in the large foyer, my curiosity getting the best of me. I make a right instead of a left and find myself meandering through the many hallways that make up this near-mansion.
Every door lining every hall is closed until I turn what is (I think?) my fourth corner. Two doors towards the end of the hallway directly parallel to each other stand slightly ajar. I make my way to them, giving the first a small nudge further open to peer inside. I stiffen immediately and start to pull the door closed, however, once I realize what the room is.
Her bedroom.
Theirbedroom.
I think for just a second about pushing the door back open and looking anyway, but decide against it, spinning around instead to the second open door. I open it hesitantly, not sure what I’m going to find, but feel a smile across my face the moment the full room comes into view.
The space is large, with built-in floor to ceiling bookshelves lining the entirety of the right wall, stuffed to the brim. A desk sits against the opposite wall, notebooks and binders stacked haphazardly high. The thing that makes me sure I know what purpose this room serves, however, lies directly in front of the window.
A large wooden easel stands tall, a table covered in various paints and palettes sitting directly to its side. Canvases of all different shapes, sizes, and colors lean against the wall in front of the easel. When I make my way closer and crouch down to examine them, I realize none of the paintings seem to be complete. In fact, most of them appear to have been abandoned at a critical point of the project. A point which required major decision making. A point which could ultimately lead to one thing.
Overthinking.
I shake my head, a smile pulling at my lips. This is an Evangeline work space if I ever saw one.
