Page 2 of Drawn Together
I’m feeling very proud of myself for standing up for my core beliefs when I flip back to see the muffin thief is gone. Only a line of waiting customers behind me with no good-looking breakfast stealer in sight. My fingers grip into my paper mug, and though I would usually just find myself a nice place to sit down and text my sister about the entire encounter as another ‘oh New York, you wild and lovely city, you’ moment, today is different. Flora yesterday didn’t see what the near future could hold. Modern-day Flora knows better and has multitudinous opportunities stemming from a single commission, which stems back to this muffin. The start of my beautiful, brand new Sex and the City lifestyle.
I slip out of the entrance with my coffee in hand and take in the busy streets around me. The odds of finding this man are slim to none in a population of eight million, but the odds of me finding a muffin that beautiful are even slimmer, so I will take my chances. This commission isn’t getting started until my stomach is ready to fuel my fingers.
Turns out, the Park Slope side of Brooklyn is larger than most believe. I have searched up and down through the streets, waiting to find that dark swooshy hair and muffin crumbs lining a trail on the walkway. Just when I have exhausted every option beyond a missing muffin poster, I walk down to the nearest park and see it. See him. Black tennis shoes with a gold charm inthe laces and a light denim jacket over his broad shoulders. And sitting there in his hands is half of my glorious breakfast. It’s not too late.
My legs move rapidly, a heat missile locked on its target, as I wait for him to recognize me. Instead, when I’m less than twenty feet away, he stands, walks over to the trash can to his left, and throws away HALF of my muffin.
Anger boils in my stomach and rises through my mouth as I shout across the park, “Hey!”
He stares into that trash can like it’s a wishing well. I run as fast as my feet will allow me to catch up to him. When I’m finally close enough, my vision is all blurry, and my hands are on my knees.
“You didn’t even eat it,” I say menacingly, also out of breath.
“You followed me here?”
Every breath I take in is like tiny stabs of cold air in my lungs. “You stole my muffin.” I point an accusatory finger at him. “And you didn’t even eat the whole thing.”
He shrugs. “Too much sugar.”
“Sugar?” I am shrieking, and despite only living here five months, I think New York has rubbed off on me—yelling at strangers in public and all. "That muffin held my entire career in its hands, and you just dumped half of it in the trash."
“That’s an awfully pathetic career if its fate relies on a baked good.”
“You—you—”
He patiently waits, yet I only respond with an intensely delivered "Muffin man.” Instead of falling to my knees in fear, this guy turns to walk away with his hands in his pockets before having the audacity to mumble, “Welcome to New York,” under his breath.
I am certain he does not believe in magic.
Two
Wordoftheday:Lacuna
Definition:a blank space, or a missing part
Turns out, I didn’t need that muffin to get started on this commission piece. Half of a dried out chocolate croissant and a can of diet coke are equally effective.
I have been saying over and over today that the encounter doesn’t matter—that it’s no big deal. My mom's voice rings in my ears, reminding me: You can’t control others, Flora, only you.
I’ve had my fair share of opportunities to unknowingly scare people off. That lady who was sleeping on the Staten Island Ferry that I accidentally woke up by humming too loud? No biggie, I get it. The homeless man snarling at me when I gave him my lunch? Fair. The friends I have attempted to make at my part-time job as a bookseller by telling them my life story? Understandable.
I never even had time to use my personality to deter him. He saw only the back of my curl-covered head and snatched the perfect opportunity out from in front of me.
Maybe it was a fun story that the universe wanted me to tell someday. Like, it knows that this book commission is going to be an instant bestseller, and I’ll get famous as the children's book illustrator who conquered the hardest job to date. When all the hundreds of adoring fans finally calm down to let the interviewer ask me just one question, Flora, how did you do it? I’ll say something like, It was all because of that grumpy man who stole my muffin.
They’ll laugh, I’ll laugh, and I’ll accept whatever award there is for big-time illustrators—maybe they’ll start making one just for me. I’ll go home and relax into my silk sheets on my gold linen bed and drift off to sleep with my rich husband next to me, our show dog lying at my feet.
A jump-start into my new future. Maybe that’s all that was.
Regardless, there is no time to dwell. My fingers curl around the digital pen in my hands, the ergonomic grip helping steady the lines of the checkerboard I’m working on.
My usual style is a bit more...cozy than is required for this piece. Woodland creatures wearing beanies in their hollow tree houses, huddled by warm fires under checkered blankets, with miniature cups of tea tucked into their tiny paws. I’m not stuck in one archetype, though. I can also do woodland creatures in top hats.
Needless to say, I was more than shocked when the scheduling department of Ashford and Elm Publishing reached out that they were searching for an illustrator to commission a new release by the Cedric Brooks.
You have read Cedric Brooks, right? The lifetime classic creator ofThe Clockmaker’s Shadow, where a boy inherits a broken pocket watch that ticks only when someone is about to disappear, leading him to a village trapped in time. Or the one about the mute boy sent to live with relatives in a seaside mansion where he hears whispers in a language only heunderstands—and it turns out to be echoes from the past that wants him back.
He is, without a doubt, the number one children's book author across the board. The guy has been tossing out classics left and right for almost fifty years. All his books are targeted for age groups eight to twelve years old, and they are these gorgeous masterpieces of intricate details and dark themes. His style is gothic and enchanting, and somehow, it just works.
