Page 63 of Sweet Passions at Bayside
“Oh, that’s helpful,” she said sarcastically, and headed into the shop.
Desiree followed her in. “Emery, what’s going on? Are you worried about going to the dinner?”
“No, the idea of meeting someone who tells my boyfriend he’s wasting his life instead of seeing him for the incredible man he is has megiddy.” She focused on the paintings to distract herself from the way her nerves were knotting up. She was surprised by how many paintings Desiree had completed over the winter. The walls were chock-full of gorgeous, colorful paintings of sunsets and children playing in the sand, Cosmos lying in the snow, and beautiful gardens.
“Gosh, Des, you’ve been busy this winter. These paintings are incredible. I’m so glad you started painting again.”
“Thanks. For the first time in forever, I’m not all blocked up because of Lizza. I think working things out and coming here, getting to know Vi, falling in love with Rick”—she sighed dreamily—“all helped. And now that you’re here, my life is perfect.”
“I think it was pretty perfect before I got here, too. But I really do need some advice about how to handle things with Dean’s dad.”
“I saw the planters covered in plastic wrap on the windowsills. Violet said they weren’t hers. Did you consult Morgyn about this little problem of yours? Did she tell you to grow some filter-enhancing herbs?”
Emery gave her a deadpan look. Morgyn was the same friend whom Emery had bought the dream catcher tank top from. She reminded Emery of Desiree’s mother, in that she was a total throwback to the seventies, but she was only in her early twenties and wasn’t at all flighty or nomadic. She was grounded and stable.Like Dean.Morgyn ran an eclectic clothing store, where she patched and accessorized—or as she called it,enhanced—gently used clothing, turning them into spectacular and unique items. She was also a talented jewelry maker and herbalist.
“No, although that’s a great idea. I’m growing something for Dean.” After reading several of his botany magazines, Emery had gone online to find something she could grow for him that he wouldn’t think to grow himself. Something spiritual and meaningful. “I’m trying to grow a lemon tree, which symbolizes longevity, friendship, and…” She paused, wondering if Desiree would think she was out of her mind.
“And?”
“Don’t laugh, but lemons represent purification and longevity. And I’m really trying to make this relationship work and be more conscious of the things I do. Because, you know, I’m not always the best at that. So, while I learn how to be more mindful, it’s sort of a purification of myself.” She sighed and said, “I really want this to last, Des, and you know me. It might take a little help from the universe.”
“Oh, Em.” Desiree’s tone softened, and she pulled her into another hug. “You really do care about him.”
“More than I ever thought I was capable of caring for a person, other than you and my family, of course.”
“It’s a wonderful feeling, isn’t it?” Desiree’s eyes lit up. “And the fact that you’re being so introspective tells me that this is real. You’re the if-you-don’t-like-who-I-am-then-kiss-off girl.”
Emery laughed. “I’m still that girl.” She studied a beautiful painting of the sun rising over the bay, thinking about the sunrise she and Dean had watched the other morning.
“Only better,” Desiree said. “And as far as his father goes, I think I know a little something about having a less-than-perfect parent.”
“Life is so weird,” Emery said. “I had two loving, very present parents while you and Dean each had two loving parents for a while, and then Lizza turned gypsy and Dean’s dad turned into a jerk. And here I am, the one who has a hard time committing and finding love, while you two seem to know just how to handle things. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how we turn out to be the people we are, or how a parent can turn their back on their family.”
“I gave up on understanding Lizza a long time ago,” Desiree said.
“The thing is,” Emery said as she carried the picture to the counter. “I need some lessons in biting my tongue. Oh, and I want to buy this for my studio.”
“Okay, first, you’re not paying me a penny. Take it. It’s yours.” Desiree motioned toward the painting as Violet came through the door to the pleasure shop. “And second, I’m not even going to touch that lesson-on-biting-your-tongue thing. But I can give you some advice about how to keep quiet.”
“I can give you a ball gag,” Violet said.
Emery laughed. “That might be necessary.”
“And fun.” Violet snort-laughed.
Desiree shook her head at her sister. “Getting back tohelpfuladvice…When someone says something I really want to respond to in a negative way, I count to ten before saying anything. Or at least I try to. It doesn’t always work.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’ll work for me,” Emery said. “I’m not big on self-control.”
“Obviously, given that you were riding the bearded man’sviperwithin hours of moving in with him,” Violet teased.
“I was not!” Emery put her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know, I showed tremendous restraint.”
“Ah. So youareinto bondage,” Violet said with a smirk. She was all sleek lines and colorful tattoos in a gray tank top and cutoffs, both of which were speckled with dried pottery clay.
“No!” Emery insisted. “I mean, maybe silk ties or something, but that’s not what I meant.” Remembering how she’d woken up in Dean’s bed and practically attacked him, she added, “I waited until I couldn’t wait anymore.”
“That must have been a painful ten minutes.” Violet glanced at the painting. “That’s a good choice. Veryyou. And if you’re really trying to not say something in front of someone, then you’re hanging out with the wrong people. If you can’t be yourself, why be anything at all?”
