Page 35 of Late Bloomer
“How cliché,” I say with a giggle. Alfie grins at me again.
“You’ll join us this year, right?” he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I’m bringing my new boyfriend, and it would be wonderful for him to not be the only fresh meat among the vultures.” He shoots a pointed look at Diksha.
“I won’t say anything to him I wouldn’t say to you,” Diksha says, fists perched on her hips.
“That’s what scares me, darling,” Alfie says, Tal letting out a rough laugh from the corner.
“I’d love to go,” I say, little stars in my eyes at the idea of hanging out with this mildly intimidating but undoubtedly charming group. “Can I— Wait, never mind.”
“Can you what, love?” Alfie asks.
I wave his question away. “I was about to be really rude and ask if my sisters can come too. I think they were planning on visiting me that weekend, but I’ll reschedule with them for—”
“The more, the merrier,” Alfie cheers. “So long as they bring either gifts or interesting stories.”
“I’m sure Pepper wouldn’t want my siblings crashing her birthday.”
“On the contrary, she’d love anyone that can divert attention away from her.”
“That’s, unfortunately, very true,” Diksha says.
“It’s settled, then,” Alfie says, steering us out of the cooler and into the bright sunlight. “No doubt it will be a night to remember.”
Chapter 13OPAL
I spent the rest of the day setting up my little art shed. Diksha and Tal showed me the storage unit toward the back of the farm, saying that anything in there was fair game to make the space more usable.
Pepper is just like Grandma Lou, never getting rid of anything,Diksha had said, eyes skimming the organized chaos of dusty tools and supplies.
They both believe everything has a purpose, it just takes time to figure out what that is,Tal added.
I found a scarred table toward the back that we were able to squeeze into the shed, and I’ll use it as a place to paint. I hung a few work lights from hooks already in the walls, and Tal showed me the easiest way to set up some basic shelves from the beat-up planks forgotten in the corner. None of it can be described as aesthetically pleasing, but it certainly does the job.
Inspiration dug its claws into my brain shortly after I gotthings set up. I don’t remember saying goodbye to everyone, my thoughts fully focused on the delicate pattern that was unraveling itself in my mind. I sketched it on paper a few times—the swoops and lines untangling until it felt like I could reach out and touch the scene—then ran back to the cabin, hauling my giant sack of shoes to my studio and getting to work on a pair of mules.
Now, I have four completed sets of leather shoes in front of me, each covered in a unique design meant to mimic classic blue-and-white china patterns.
I tend to create art in a bit of a trance, my brain blurring at the edges as my hands work, chasing a shimmer of an idea while the rest of the world melts away. As my eyes trace the delicate path painted across the top of one shoe, winding to the steps of a sweet-looking home, I realize I’ve painted Pepper’s cabin. My cabin? Ours? Regardless, the cozy A-frame is immortalized in a brilliant blue, the sagging porch a center point to the design.
I study the rest of the finished shoes, recognizing other areas of the Thistle and Bloom that have apparently planted themselves in my memory in the short time I’ve been here.
Stretching out my stiff neck and shoulders, I glance at my phone, having to blink a few times as I realize how late it is, inky midnight framing the small windows, the bright yellow glow of the work lights reflecting back like enlarged stars. I groan as a string of texts from Laney and Miles pop up on the screen.
Laney
Hey
Oh wow, another unanswered text
Cool
You know, you used to pretend to be so fucking chill or whatever
But you get a little bit of money and the rest of the world can fuck off right?
Do you not see how boring and cliche that is?
Like you haven’t even checked in on me in weeks
