Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Scout
There’s a lightness in the air this morning, the crisp air somehow already smelling like fall overnight. I don’t know why, but the day after the festival seems to be the signal for the seasons to change. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.
This much-deserved, lazy Sunday is just what we needed after the hectic past few weeks leading up to the festival.
As I look around at the friendly faces, this quirky little town that raised me, I feel a sense of calm come over me.
And there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I’m exactly where I need to be.
I’ve been riding a high after seeing everyone’s reaction to the mural yesterday.
I’d forgotten how good it feels to share my art, like I’m communicating in my native tongue, expressing myself in deeper ways than I could ever find words for.
I know that everyone won’t get it, and that’s okay, but the people who do make it all so much more fulfilling. I don’t know what’s next for me, but for the first time in my life, I’m okay with the unknown.
Luka sits across from me in our booth at Restaurant, looking as strikingly handsome and confident as always, but I can’t help but notice there’s something different about him this morning. I study him over my menu as Jett appears with a steaming pitcher of fresh coffee we never ordered.
“You have to try this French press.” He sets the pitcher in the center of the table, but instead of walking off like he normally would, he just stands there… awkwardly. Hovering.
Luka eyes him suspiciously, then finally takes his cue and pours himself a cup. “Mmm. That is a good cup of Joe,” he says as he takes a sip.
Jett nods in agreement. “It’s got a real earthiness to it, right?”
“That it does,” Luka agrees. He gives a few more awkward nods, then takes another sip as Jett just stands there.
“Is there something else you need or—?” Luka finally asks at the same time Jett says, “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry about… everything. And I actually think this mural is going to be good. Not just for my business but as an attraction.”
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holds it out for us to see.
“There’s been quite an explosion on social media.
Some big influencer was at the festival and posted about it.
Apparently, our little town festival’s gone viral.
” He scrolls down his notifications, showing the endless tags and comments.
This seems to drop Luka’s defenses. I see his posture relax as he takes another sip of coffee.
“Wow. That’s great, man. Glad it’s all working out.”
“It’s going to take me hours to go through all these messages,” he says, typing something on his phone. “If I’m this buried in notifications, I can’t imagine what you must be dealing with, Scout.”
My ears perk up at that, and Luka and I share a confused look. “What do you mean?”
He flips his phone to face me. “Just all the tags and comments you’re getting. I hope you have your notifications turned off because that would drive me crazy to have?—”
“What are you talking about?” Luka snatches Jett’s phone out of his hands, his eyes nearly popping out of his head as he scrolls. “Holy shit…”
“What?” My heart drops to my stomach as I open my purse and dig around for my phone. I finally find it buried at the bottom underneath all the random crap I still haven’t unpacked from the festival yesterday.
I click it on, my battery is barely at 10 percent, and I nearly fall out of my seat when I see the number of notifications. And not just on social media, but my email inbox has had an influx as well.
“Oh my God…” I find the original post, a shot of the mural at sunset, and I instantly feel my eyes well with tears.
It’s so hauntingly beautiful.
It feels like I’m seeing it for the first time, but from an outsider’s perspective.
I scroll through the comments and tags, all ranging from impressed to outraged, as people gush while others battle in the comment section over their own ideas of what makes something good art .
“Are you saying you didn’t know?” Jett finally asks.
Luka and I stare back at each other, both clearly trying to wrap our heads around this.
I shake my head. “No. We got home late after we stopped by the police station, and I haven’t even looked at my phone.” Honestly, I’ve never had much of a reason to in these last few weeks with Luka and I working so closely together.
I glance down at the screen, realizing my silly little account with barely two hundred followers has grown well into the five figures overnight.
Not to mention all the email requests asking if I’m taking new commissions.
I swallow a gulp as I look back up to find Luka watching me. A small smile pulls at his lips as he takes another sip of his coffee. “And you tried to tell me that being an artist wasn’t a real job.”
I roll my eyes as Luka pours me a cup of coffee, stirring in a generous amount of cream and sugar. He slides the cup to me. “Drink up, Girl Scout. Looks like you’re going to need it.”
“Well,” Jett says, still standing there awkwardly. “I just wanted to stop by and let you both know I’m grateful for what you’ve done. And… It’s nice to see how happy you are. I’m glad things worked out.” He gestures over his shoulder. “I’ll give you two some time to look over the menu.”
Without another word, he turns and makes a beeline straight to the kitchen, and Luka and I burst into laughter.
“How painful do you think that was for him?” I say, wiping a tear from my eye with my napkin.
“Had to be brutal. I can honestly say at no point did I know where that was going.”
“Hey, look who it is.” A male voice catches my attention, and I look over my shoulder to see Hank approaching. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday… Well, because all hell broke loose… But you two did an amazing job with the festival.”
“It was all Luka,” I say, truthfully, loving that I get to watch him get the appreciation and respect he deserves.
“Thanks, Hank. That means a lot.”
“Yeah, well, you two make a great team. Maybe you should consider taking over the festival permanently.” He taps the table, then turns to leave, not giving either of us a chance to argue. “Just think about it,” he calls over his shoulder as he walks away.
“Wow. If I’d known we’d be this popular, I would’ve voted to stay in,” Luka says as he refills his coffee.
No sooner do the words leave his mouth then Colleen’s voice cuts through the room. “Just the man I was looking for!”
I look up as Colleen and her husband, Melvin, approach our booth.
“I wanted you to know that my phone’s been ringing off the hook all morning.
Hasn’t it, Melvin?” She looks at her husband, who gives us a quiet nod and a thumbs up.
In the twenty-plus years I’ve known the man, I think I’ve maybe only heard him speak a handful of times.
“Inn’s been booked solid for the next six months. Can you believe it?”
“Wow, Colleen. That’s great.”
“You know, it’s a rare thing for me to be wrong about someone,” she says, looking down through her bifocals. “But I owe you an apology. I’m sorry for how I treated you, for how we all treated you. That wasn’t fair of us.”
“Thanks, Colleen,” Luka says, his voice genuine as he places a hand over hers. “That means a lot.”
“Oh, and Scout,” she adds, and I perk up at the mention of my name. “Do you think you could stop by Inn one day next week? I’d like to talk about you designing something fun and Phantom-themed for a few of the larger suites.”
“Yeah, Colleen, of course. Does tomorrow work for you?”
“That’ll be perfect.”
We say our goodbyes, and we’re both quiet as we watch them leave.
“Is the coast clear?”
I carefully glance over my shoulder, noticing the crowd has thinned out quite a bit over the last half hour. “I think we’re good.”
Luka lets out a sigh. “Thank God. Don’t get me wrong, I love hearing everyone’s apologies, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around your art going viral.” He flashes me a proud smile. “Looks like you’re about to be busy. Are you excited?”
The smile that stretches across my face doesn’t do justice to how giddy I feel.
Not only do I have an inbox full of potential commissions, but it seems like there’s plenty of local interest, too.
I’ve never really given myself the freedom to consider what a career in art could look like, but it seems like I’ve got plenty of options to pursue.
“Yes. I can hardly believe it,” I say truthfully. “It’s all so overwhelming to think about.”
“Hey, take a breath.” Luka leans in, his voice low and calm as he places a steady hand over mine. “Just take it one step at a time. You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”
His reassuring words reign in my overthinking mind, anchoring me back down to earth.
I blow out a long sigh as I nod.
“There’s no rush. All you need to focus on is the next right move for you,” he continues. “Everything else will work itself out.”
“What if I get tired of painting murals? Or I fall out of love with it? What if I lose my spark?”
Luka shrugs. “Then you’ll pivot. You’ll make adjustments along the way and follow your gut for what feels right.”
“But… isn’t that wasting my talent?”
He shakes his head; his lip curled into the faintest smirk like he’s trying not to laugh at how ridiculous I’m being.
“No, Scout. You don’t owe anyone your talent.
There’s nothing you have to do to prove you deserve it, and there’s no sunk cost fallacy when it comes to how long it takes.
” He presses a kiss on my hand, sunlight glinting off my wedding ring.
His voice is steady when he meets my gaze.
“You can change your mind tomorrow, next week, ten years from now. Hell, go back to law school for all I care. I just want you to be happy. Whatever that looks like.”
His reassuring words send a wave of warmth through my chest, and I realize I’ve never had anyone lay it all out there for me like that. I’ve never felt more seen and unconditionally loved than I do in this moment.
Luka showed me what safety feels like, but he doesn’t just take care of me; he pushes me, he empowers me to go after what I want. I’ll never be able to thank him enough for helping me find my way back to myself.
And as scary as it feels to not have a plan, I know that I’ll be okay. If I’ve learned anything over these past few months, it’s that anything is possible; your whole life can change in the blink of an eye.
Maybe it’s finally time I started dreaming bigger.
“And what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t have something brewing in that big brain of yours.”
He sits back in his seat and smiles. “I’ve got a couple of ideas I’m bouncing around.”
“Do share,” I say, pinching off a bite of my French toast.
“As you know, I’ve done a little volunteer work, helping nonprofit organizations that work with helping acclimate soon-to-be ex-cons back into the workforce.
” He pops a piece of bacon in his mouth and chews.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about how so many of these guys don’t have the same opportunities to go to school.
How most of them end up working labor-intensive jobs, not that there’s anything wrong with that.
But having tech skills would open them up to a whole new industry. ”
“I like where this is going.”
“I’ve been tossing around the idea of starting my own nonprofit, maybe partnering with the Chamber of Commerce.
Creating a technology skills program that would teach them basic coding and give them a foundation to build off of.
I think it could be a great way to give back and fulfill a need for so many people who need it most.” He shrugs, like he didn’t just casually drop the biggest anthropological bomb I’ve ever heard.
“Luka, that’s an incredible idea,” I say, and I swear this man never ceases to amaze me with how caring he is. “You should absolutely do that. I can’t think of anyone better to bring something like this to life.”
“It’s definitely going to happen,” he says with a grin. “I’ve already got L.O.K.I. doing some research.”
I shake my head and laugh, not at all surprised by his cavalier attitude. How he takes life by the horns and simply chases after the things he wants.
His phone buzzes on the table beside him, and he glances at it and rolls his eyes. “Speak of the devil.”
“Do I want to know?” I ask with a chuckle.
“He’s asking if he can set the hologram up in the house. I’m not sure I want to open that can.”
“Oh, come on. Let him have a little fun. He’s just bored.”
He types back a response, then pockets his phone. “I was actually thinking of a way to help that problem, too. But I wanted to make sure you’re cool with it first.”
I quirk a brow. “What do you have in mind?”
“Why don’t I just show you.”