Page 52 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
He snapped his head up, his face pained. “No. It’s not like that. I just need to talk to someone so I can sort out my feelings. I’ve been even more peeved since you came back, and I keep going over to Jasper’s to try and talk to him, but he never answers the freaking door. And then I’m jealousandworried.” Freddie flopped back against the couch and blew out a deep breath. He turned his head to meet Violet’s eyes. “I just want to talk to him. I’ve never even had a conversation with him before. Can… Can you please help? He’s always been so open with you. If you ask, he’ll do it.”
Freddie watched her with a look she’d never seen on his face before. This face that she’d loathed all her life was pleading with her now. Sincerely. Violet decided to be honest with him.
“Listen, Jasper and I were close a long time ago, but things are very different now. If I go over there, there’s a big chance he won’t open the door for me, either.”
Freddie shook his head, his blue eyes steady. “No way. If you go, he’ll let you in. He’s in love with you. Like,crazyin love.”
Violet’s breath caught, her body tensing. “Wh—you don’t know that. You don’t knowanything—”
“Of course I do. I spent all of primary school watching him watch you. I know I’m not the smartest in the bunch, but it would take a real potato to miss something so obvious.”
“A potato, huh?”Gram, Rosie, Ambrose and now Freddie of all people? Give me a break.
“Will you help?” he asked. “My therapist said I should talk to both of you. But I don’t think I can talk to him without you puttin’ in a good word, first.”
The universe was officially beating her over the head with a mallet, but Violet was her own woman. Wine and a hot bath were calling and she was not leaving this cottage until she was sufficiently soaked and boozed. “I’ll help you, but not today. I’ll let you know. Your ten minutes are up.”
He flashed his Mr. Popular smile, his eyes soft. “Alright, I appreciate it. Thanks for listening… and I’m sorry I made your life hard growing up.”
“Whatever,” Violet said, standing. “Get out of my house.”
* * *
Two days passedbefore Violet built up the nerve to go back to Laurent House.
Saturday night’s hot bath and wine had been followed up with homemade baked veggie lasagna and the reading of a new book by the fire. All the while, a brilliant bouquet of rich violets kept her company—gracing the atmosphere with a quiet splendor and softness. A gentle reminder of a situation yet to be addressed.
Sunday, she spent the larger portion of the day re-sketching Poppy Bridge. At first, her intent had been to paint it the way she remembered it fondly in her mind: surrounded by a field of wild poppies in summer, perfectly enclosed by tall green trees humming with wildlife. Beautiful and unflawed.
But something in her wondered about its current state: Poppy Bridge in winter. Poppy Bridge as it was now. Maybe it wasn’t as picturesque as the rosy memory encapsulated in her thoughts, but perhaps it held a new beauty? Aged and withered, having faced the inevitable hardships of time. Maybe there was something to be appreciated in that. Something worth capturing.
Violet decided she’d go out there the following weekend. Braving the cold, she’d start out early and follow the overgrown path, sketchpad and blanket in hand. It would be an adventure, and she hadn’t had one of those in a while.
That is, if you didn’t count the journey up the walkway to Laurent House. Somehow, it felt plenty challenging as Violet stepped out of the car. The wind whipped at her wool coat and loose hair, pushing the thick of it around like a playground bully. She took a deep breath.
Alright, this is it. One last try.
Even after all the ridiculous encouragement over the weekend, the truth was that Jasper still might not even open the door. Violet could be met with harsh silence. Another rejection. It would be the end for her this time, no matter what anyone said.
She made her way up the path, pulling her coat tighter against her body. When she reached the porch, she took a breath and lifted her fist. The door automatically creaked open, leaving Violet standing there with her fist midair and her eyes wide. Jasper peeked through the crack in the door, a polite smile on his face.
“Hello…”
“Hi…” Violet dropped her hand and swallowed. “Freddie wants to talk to you. He’s getting upset because he comes over here, but you don’t open the door.”
“I never open the door when Freddie comes here. It’s what we do. He brings me bulk items and sets them on the porch, I open the door after he leaves. Why is he showing up more often? Why should things change?”
Violet held back a laugh. “I don’t know—because sometimes change is good, Jasper.”
“Even if Freddie is involved?”
Violet shrugged. “I’m just the messenger.”
“Since when are you a messenger for Freddie Martin?”
“Since he apologized and told me he’s seeing a therapist.”
“What?”
