Page 37 of Lucy Loves Him Not
I answered and very casually said, “Oh, hey, Adam.”
“Hey, Lucy. I need to go over something with you.” He sounded serious.
“Okay, well, I’m at my sister’s helping her paint. Can we go over it on the phone?” I set my dripping paint roller down in the plastic container.
“I need to show you some plans the staff came up with for the elementary art display.” He cleared his throat. “They’re wanting to rework a lot of it. I need you to look at it.”
“Rework it?” I glanced at Olivia who was pouting in the corner. “Can you email me the plans?”
“I want to explain it to you.” He’d never sounded so urgent before.
“It’s just that I’m currently covered in paint.”
“I can come to you,” he said. “If that’s okay?”
I looked to an eavesdropping Olivia. “I’ll have to see if my sister’s okay with you?—”
“Come on over, Adam!” Olivia shouted from the stepstool, green paint on her arms and fingers.
“Send me the location?” Adam said eagerly.
“Hi, Lucy. Olivia, thanks for letting us barge in.” Adam showed up not much later with Victor in tow, whose eyes immediately went to Olivia.
“Hey, Olivia,” Victor said, forgetting I was standing in the doorway, too. “This house is incredible,” he said as we closed the door behind them.
Adammmhmm’din agreement as we walked through the entryway.
“Thanks, guys. You were in construction, right?” Olivia asked Victor as he followed her into the kitchen. “Maybe you can give me some renovation tips. Right now, all I have is YouTube.”
“I’d be happy to,” Victor said, looking around. “I miss the work, the grind. I feel a little cooped up in the office.”
“It’s true. He’s always bouncing around like a kindergartener in need of recess,” Adam added.
“I have a lot of work for you here, if you want.” Olivia laughed. “I’m not sure what you charge, though.”
“I’d be happy to offer free labor,” he said down to his feet, tugging on his shirt.
I looked at Adam and nodded toward the living room across the open space. He followed me to Olivia’s worn, navy couch. We sat side by side, shoulders touching.
“The staff wants to change things up a bit?” I asked as he spread the papers on the coffee table.
“They drew up these plans this morning,” he said tentatively.
I looked them over. The paperwork not only redid the entire layout and flow, but they downsized the entire show. “Oh.” I swallowed. “They want to change things upa lot.”
We would have to call so many teachers and tell them we’re cutting the display their students had grown to love and worked so hard on. So many students would be disappointed. So many teachers would be angry.
The giddy hum I’d been feeling in my belly since last night went silent. All butterflies stilled.
“I know. It’s why I came right over,” he said, his voice small. “I know it’s a big shake-up, but the team was thinking we should give more space to vendors who are making us money. This is a lot of space for zero dollars.”
I dropped the papers on the table and turned to him. “This space isn’tfordollars. It’s for the community. These students and their families are the community.”
“I get that. I do. I think the art show is an important part of the festival and we’re not taking it away?—”
“Again, with that line. That’s the whole spiel you gave me weeks ago:I’m not taking your role at the festival away. I’m just changing it.We’re not taking away the student art show. We’re only changing it.”
“Because it’s true!” Adam’s voice rose a little and Victor and Olivia stopped chattering.
