Page 60 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
27
Now
“Here you are.” Simone held out Ginger’s journal as she stood on the porch wrapped in a deep red shawl. “I thoroughly enjoyed that. Happy Friday.”
Violet smiled. “Happy Friday, and I figured you would.” She stepped aside to let her friend pass. As Simone strolled through the door, Violet asked, “You didn’t happen to come across any entries about breaking curses in there, did you?”
Simone paused, her brows drawn together as she looked over her shoulder. “Um,that’sa weird question. Does someone have a curse that needs breaking?”
Violet tensed. “No. I don’t know, I… I’m just reading too many books lately.”
“I want these books if they talk about curses. Sounds fun.” Simone winked. “I did find some valuable herbal remedies for simple ailments—stomachaches, sleeplessness, headaches and cuts and bruises. Ingredients I can find in the local forest, apparently. Come spring, I want to try a little foraging. Come with?”
“I would love that. I’m in.”
“Gloria would be proud of us, I think.” When Simone turned the corner into the sitting room, she gasped. “Look at you. You’ve been busy.” She walked over to the row of canvases that Violet had on display. They were placed on the floor along the wall: an impressionist-style portrait of Gloria in gouache earth tones, then three others in the same medium, but brighter depictions of detailed landscapes—a field of wild red poppies against a stormy sky, a magnolia tree in full bloom and the third, a charming chateau juxtaposed against a flourishing apple orchard.
“I’m just trying to get back into it,” Violet said. “It’s been years so I feel rusty. Wine?”
“Rusty? Are you kidding? These don’t look rusty at all. This looksjustlike Gloria. And I love this one in the center—is it a magnolia tree?”
“Yes. There was one in the park near my place in the city. It was stunning and I loved taking walks there in the spring. Just looking at it and smelling the flowers in the air gave me a sense of peace.”
“You did this from memory? The colors are so rich and vibrant, and the way you’ve done the shadows and sunlight through the branches… Wow, Vi. You’re seriously talented.”
“Aw, thanks,” Violet said. “Do you want wine? Red or white?”
“Red, always. Are you selling these?”
Violet moved toward the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from the wine rack just outside the wide, open doorway. “Not at all. Who would buy them?” She swiftly uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.
“Lots of people,” Simone shouted from the sitting room. “Me, for starters. How much for the magnolia tree? It’ll look so beautiful on the wall of my shop—and it’s by a local artist.”
When Violet made her way back into the sitting room, Simone was already relaxing on the couch. Violet handed her a glass. “Oh please. You can just have it. It’s not a big deal.”
“Yeah,no,” Simone said, accepting the offering. “Vi, you are gifted and I firmly believe in paying artists for their hard work and talent. The painting has so much vibrancy and character—the colors of the petals have a subtle gradient, even though each one is so small…” Simone stood with her glass and walked over to the paintings again. She crouched, examining the magnolia tree. “Can I have another one that matches this? Like a sister painting? It can be whatever you want. I’ll give you a thousand for the pair.”
“What?” Violet jerked, almost spilling her wine. “There’sno wayI could—I’m just dabbling. Playing around.”
“Well, I’m excited to see what you create when you get serious.” Simone looked over her shoulder. “This could be a thing, Vi. The beginning of your colorful life. How long have you been painting?”
“I… Well, as far back as I can remember. I’ve been drawing and painting as a hobby since Mom died. I’ve taken some formal classes for fun, here and there. But I’ve never thought to focus on it as a profession. It just gives me joy, you know? Creating and mixing colors. Especially if I’m down or having a hard time. It’s my happy place.”
Moving back toward the couch, Simone smiled. “I can feel the joy in these paintings just by looking at them. Listen, let me set up a social media account for you. Paint a few more—whatever interests you. No pressure. And just… let’s see what happens. I’ve done this for the bakery, so I have a pretty good handle on what I need to do. I’ll just alter everything slightly foryourspecific art form. Will you let me?”
Violet considered for a moment. Simone was her friend, so of course she’d say kind things about her art. That’s what good friends were—supportive. She supposed there couldn’t be any harm in letting Simone set up an account.
“Yes, you can.” Violet nodded. “But don’t be disappointed if nothing happens.”
“Don’t be too shocked when something does.” Simone winked, raising her glass. “Cheers to your new business, Violet. And to having your first customer—me!”
Violet couldn’t help but smile as she raised her glass. “Alright, cheers. And thank you.”
They clinked their glasses, and as Violet drank the bold, smooth liquid brimming with notes of fig, dark cherries and espresso, she couldn’t deny the flush of warmth in her cheeks. The rush of excitement and sincere gratitude. She thought of Gloria—always dabbling in what she loved, experimenting and trying new things. Gloria had cultivated a rich life for herself, like a vibrant quilt made up of unique, interesting patchwork. Could this be the first patch on Violet’s own unique quilt? A bright splash of color in an otherwise gray existence?
“You really think people will want my paintings?” she asked.
“Oh, Iknowthey will. What style is this? What kind of paint?”
