Chapter Thirty-Three
chapter thirty-three
ISLA
I lean my bike up against the blush building just next to Nora’s studio. I don’t have a lock for it, but this isn’t the kind of place where you need to lock up your valuables.
The ride here was peaceful, quiet as I made my way down the hill past the grassy fields. The acres of long grass covered in a glittering haze as the sun climbed higher in the sky, slowly waking up.
It’s quiet on Main today, a few people are out and about, walking the streets this morning, but that familiar air of peace has settled over Ruby Cove today.
I open the glass doors into the gallery and there’s a new painting on the front display as I walk in.
My painting.
My breath catches at the sight of it, my painting on display like that. My friends are in front of me once again and it immediately takes me back to last night, and that’s exactly what I’d hoped for. For the viewer to be caught in that exact moment in time, for them to feel like they’re sitting right there in that room.
I can hear a faint humming drifting in from the studio space. I walk through the gallery and around the corner to see Nora behind the easel as usual. She’s got a bottle of wine on the table beside her and a paintbrush tucked behind her ear.
Her little old radio is playing Mazzy Star, and she’s humming along to the familiar tune, completely oblivious to my presence.
I knock my knuckles on the door frame. “ Ciao, Nora .”
“Oh, Isla! Come va, tesoro? ” She turns the knob on her radio, so we don’t have to yell.
“I’m good. How are you?” I’ve picked up a few pieces of Italian in the last six weeks.
“Good darling, good.” She places her paintbrush in a jar of water. “What brings you by?”
“I thought maybe I’d come work on something new today.”
I see pleasant surprise in the crinkles in her face, she quickly gets up pulling a stool over to the easel across from hers. “Take a seat.”
I sort through the canvases, picking one similar sized to the one I painted last night.
“Hey Nora.”
“Hmm?” She says, focused back on her painting.
“Why did you hang my painting up on display?”
“I’m sorry darling, I hope you don’t mind, I can take it down if you like. When I came in this morning and saw it, I just thought there was something special about it and thought it was a shame for it to be sitting there in the shadows.”
“No, it’s okay, I think it looks good there.” I’ve never had my art displayed anywhere, unless you count college showcases. It might be one of the only times my art is in a gallery like this, so I don’t want her to take it down, not yet at least.
“I’ve had many people inquire about the artist this morning,” she raises her eyebrows at me over the top of her work.
“Wait, really?” I halt mixing up my colors on the palette beside me.
“Quite a few actually, asking if the piece is for sale, or if there were any others in the gallery.”
My heart nearly stops in my chest. I can barely believe that one piece would attract so much interest.
A little furnace burns in the core of my heart imagining people walking into the gallery and taking the time to look at my painting, let alone inquire if it is for sale, and it only stokes my craving to get my brush on the canvas in front of me.
“But I obviously had to turn them down, I didn’t know if you’d be back, but I couldn’t help but put that piece up. Even though I knew the chances of you selling that one were slim, it feels like a special piece.”
“It is.” That piece will always hold the essence of that night, something I never want to let go of, no matter my future here.
I grab the pencil from the cart beside me, mindlessly sketching out a rough form on the canvas, giving me something to go off.
I feel like a shovel just got pushed into my brain, pulling up the root of doubt from my past. I’m finally starting to believe that maybe I could do this, maybe I could just stay here. That feels scary to even think, but this place fuels the fire in my soul, it’s infused with magic.
It’s like Ruby Cove has a spellbinding hold over me, maybe I could just stay here, paint, bartend, live, love?—
Love.
The word floods my mind as I sit here, and I can’t stop the swell. I wouldn’t be at this point without Caio backing me, hell I probably wouldn’t be here today if not for his paint-n-sip idea for last night. Okay, I for sure wouldn’t be here today.
He treats me unlike any other man ever has. He puts his trust in me, so maybe I should put my trust in him. Maybe I should take that final leap.
But what if I do? What if I take the leap and land just short of the edge and fall down the cliff into the freezing river waiting below? It’s a massive risk, I just have to figure out whether it’s a risk worth taking.
I spend the rest of the morning here in the studio, chatting with Nora. She treats me like an old friend, asking about my art, and sharing her own stories of where her art has taken her in the world.
She asks about my family back home, and it’s easy to open up to her. She nods in understanding, though her typically joyous features have morphed into a frown, and it doesn’t take long before she comes around to wrap me up one of her warm cuddles. It’s more than I could ask for, this town accepted me into its open arms and I’m high on the feeling of effortlessly fitting in somewhere. I’ve never had to try to be anything other than what or who I am here and it’s liberating.
I paint canvas after canvas, it’s like after holding back for so long I’m rushing to get everything from my mind onto the board in front of me as soon as possible.
The paintbrush is an extension of my arm, I barely have to think about where to place it, my muscle memory leading me. Before long the picture in front of me transforms, coming together perfectly. For the last hour I’ve been working on recreating the view I had on that first day out on the water, that magical cave we went to. Shades of blue coat the canvas in front of me, and where everyone else will see the ocean, waves rippling across the picture, and the sky, the sharp contrast of color at the horizon, I just see Caio’s eyes looking back at me.
“So how long have you owned this place?” I ask Nora as I stand at the sink washing out my brushes. I think I’m done for today; my shoulder is sore from my arm being on an angle for so long.
“Oh, I don’t own it, this building is one of the only ones on Main that is rented, but I’ve been in here for about maybe twenty-five years now.”
“Wow, that’s incredible,” I say.
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ve never much minded that I rent. It’s never been an issue for me, the people that own the building don’t live here and they have always kept the rent at a manageable rate, so it’s been good. It was good, up until a few weeks ago anyway.”
“What do you mean?” I turn the tap off.
“Ah,” she waves me off. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Nora, what are you talking about?” I fold my arms and lean back on the sink behind me.
She sighs again. “The owners are selling the building.”
My stomach drops. “What? Why?”
“They’re moving away, selling all of their property before they go to live in France, and they can’t guarantee that the new owner won’t kick me out, or change this place into one of those fancy new clothing shops that are popping up all over the show.”
I’ve just come to love this place, and now it might not even exist anymore. This is just my luck. The universe is paying me another visit, and it obviously doesn’t want me to have my happy ending.
“We have to do something.”
“I don’t have the money to buy the place, cara. Trust me, if I did, I wouldn’t hesitate, but this place doesn’t generate the amount I’d need.”
I frown. There’s got to be some way we can get some money together.
I chuck my brushes in a jar and grab my bag off the floor. “I’ll figure something out Nora, give me a few hours and I’ll be back,” I say, before I scurry out the door with an idea.