Page 61 of Love, Magic and Misfortune
Violet sat straighter, excited about the nerdy details she almost never had the opportunity to divulge. “Well, the paint is gouache and the style is impressionism—like Degas, Renoir and Monet. You’ve heard of them?”
“Degas did the ballerina ones, right? I always liked those.”
“Yes.” Violet beamed. “Degas is famous for ballerinas and Monet for lilies. This is my favorite style because it just feels airy and light. Whimsical? But I like to experiment—so I’ve also done realism in acrylic, oils and watercolors. I tried abstract but I struggled. It’s like my brain doesn’t really work that way. I’m too literal and straightforward. I actually want to start doing more charcoal. Maybe a portrait? I’ve seen some that are really haunting and beautiful, and it feels so different from what I’m used to. I want to get my hands messy and give it a try.”
Simone took a long sip of her wine. “And you should. You’re already so alive just talking about this. Don’t brush that feeling aside, Vi. It’s important.”
“You’re right. I shouldn’t.”
“You seemed a little off when you came to the bakery last weekend with that ridiculous author man. Is everything alright?”
Violet snickered. “Why is René ridiculous? He has a flair for theatrics, but he’s nice. And I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”
“‘Flair for theatrics…’” Simone sneered. “All that flirting and carrying-on. He’s way too good-looking to be trusted. And I thought you told me his name was Ambrose?”
“That—that’s just his author name. His real name is René. Why do you think good-looking men can’t be trusted?”
“Because society has taught them that they can pretty much have anything they want and get away with everything. So they do.”
Violet laughed. “Nah, not all—plus, there are different kinds of handsome.”
“Well, I’m talking model-esque, ‘likely to be cast as a heartthrob in a steamy romance’ handsome, like your friend Ambrose or René or whatever.”
“You should give him a chance. Maybe he’s being sincere toward you?”
“Please. He doesn’t have a sincere bone in his body. And anyway, I moved out here to run my little bakery in peace and solitude. I don’t want to deal with all that anymore—feeling anxious about disclosure and worrying about what someone thinks of me. I’m over it. I just want to bemeand be happy.”
“Your colorful life.”
“That’s right.”
“I hear you… René seems pretty open though—”
“Enough, woman,” Simone scolded, playful. “What’s happening with Mr. Laurent? Are you still seeing him?”
“Not seeing, exactly. But yes, I visit with him. We’re friends.”
“So what’s his deal, exactly? I hear he’s sick, but nobody seems to know what he has. In the seven years I’ve lived here, I’ve never onceseenhim. I don’t even know what he looks like.” Simone watched Violet now, pointedly. Requiring answers.
“Um… well, Jasper is average height, but taller than me. Oh, so Freddie, the town mascot who runs the grocery store?”
“Yes, Ken Doll. Another one too handsome to be trusted.”
Violet rolled her eyes, smiling. “Jasper is just a smidge shorter than Freddie, maybe? But Jasper’s features are dark. His mom is from Portugal and he has her same coffee-colored, kind of loosely curled hair—which is almost always a mess. His eyes are really pretty. Like giant gray marbles.”
“Aw, he sounds like a cutie.”
Violet snuggled a little deeper into the couch with her wine, her heart warm. “Ithink he is.”
“I guess he’s sick, but… Why does he stay locked up in the house all the time? Does he work?”
“Yes, he works. He has his own business.”
“Does he date or have a partner?” Simone asked.
“No. Not that I know of.”
“Vi, you’re straight, right?”
