Page 16 of Pictures in Blue
My laugh echoes in the store and I realize Sky reminds me a lot of Charlotte. Same forceful attitude, same loud personality, but always with the best intentions. I hope. “Trying to get me drunk?” I ask.
“Oh yes,” she responds in a sarcastic tone. “Drunk enough to spill all of your secrets.”
I know she’s joking, but my anxiety spikes slightly at the idea of unlocking the chest of secrets I keep under lock at all times. I’m not sure I’m ready to share them with anyone just yet.
“I was kidding,” she says, noticing the rising panic in my face. “I promise if you get drunk, I won’t let you spill anything. But if you do choose to share, your secrets are safe with me. Scout’s honor,” she raises her right hand in the air and I feel myself relax a bit.
“Okay,” I hear myself say. A night out with a new friend might be what I need. Something new, something fun.
Something blue,I joke to myself.
“Here, hand me your phone,” she reaches out her hand and I grab my phone from the side pocket in my leggings and hand it over.
“We all go to the bar on Tuesday nights,” she continues. “You can come with me and my friends, Jacob and Sophie. I’ll put my number in and you can let me know if you want to join us. I’ll stop by the inn and walk with you.”
She quickly puts her number in my phone and I leave the store with a renewed hope of friendship. And maybe hiking with someone who knows more than the word “No” around me.
CHAPTER SIX
AVERY
By the time the afternoon hit and the sun was slowly lowering, I had explored most of the town and met what seemed to be most of its residents.
Margie runs the thrift shop, and while most of the items looked like they came from Fran or Cordie’s wardrobe, there were some buried treasures. I bought an antique clock I thought would look perfect in my apartment at home. It was one of those classic round clocks with a wooden base and gold accents. It has an intricate design around it with gold frames that hang from the bottom. I also snagged a few oversized sweaters that looked like they were crocheted by Fran. They are cozy and cute and I couldn’t resist taking a piece of that woman with me when I leave in a few weeks.
I stopped at the market for some snacks to keep in my room. The market is owned by a short, red-haired woman named Sallie. She went into a monologue about her twins and how they went off to college together in New York. They were supposed to call her yesterday to check in, but they didn’t. She rolled her eyes saying “at least the mountain is out.” Whatever that means.
Then I went toFrank’s Bar & Restaurantwhere I met Frank. He owns the bar, where I’m guessing is the location of the town hangout on Tuesdays that Sky mentioned. He could give Hudson a stiff competition on who says less words in my presence. He took my order, served me, and placed my bill on the table with barely a grunt of acknowledgement.
This town is either filled with grumpy men or I am the problem. Whichever it is, I’m still glad to be away from the chaos of the paper. I meant to check in with Charlotte earlier to see if James’ head exploded yet, but it got lost in the activities of the day.
AfterFrank’s, I figured I’d head back toBooks & Beansto see what kind of book selection Fran had and ended up choosingJane Eyre,one I know I don’t have on my shelves at home. After going from place to place, I am ready to settle down in my room, a peppermint latte in hand, cozied under the covers with my new book. Well, an old book, rather. Fran sells a few second hand books that people donate and this one came with an inscription of a line from the book written on the title page.
“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me:
I am a free human being with an independent will.”
And I couldn’t help but wonder who wrote the inscription and how it came to be in my hands at precisely the right time. Serendipity at its finest. I am the bird and I am determined to not allow a net to ensnare me any longer.
I thinkBooks & Beansis my favorite place so far. The love that Fran has put into it is felt in every book on the shelves, every piece of furniture carefully placed, every cup of coffee she steams and everything she bakes. There is so much love in the place. So much love that I have never experienced before in my own life.
My thoughts drift to my broken relationship with my mother. I haven’t heard from her since she left with whatever guy was currently praising the ground she walks on. Thriving on praise is a trait I unfortunately get from her. A trait I also never had fulfilled by her. Criticism was her go-to conversation and rarely were any positive words sprinkled in.
I cover myself with the down comforter that I may or may not be planning to steal when I leave, and dive into my book. To no one’s surprise I went immediately to the romance section and grabbed the first one I thought would make me feel something other than empty. Even though my own love life is nowhere near active, I smile at the thought of living vicariously through the pages of someone else’s life for a few hours, even if it has every chance of destroying my heart along the way.
After a few chapters, I close the book and turn on my side, the light from my phone glowing in the darkness. The idea of hiking again lingers in the back of my mind and pushes its way to the front as I scroll to find Sky’s number. Hope rises in my chest, a phoenix from the ashes, at the thought of spending the day outside, among the trees with a clear head and a clear path.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HUDSON
Thwunk.
No.
Thwunk.
No.
