Chapter Twenty-Eight #2
To her, this piece felt like the partner to the Hanged One, even though many steps in the journey happened in between—from limbo to purpose, even if that purpose was still unformed, unseen, hiding down a long road.
She was upright, untangled, and ready for that road.
Daphne didn’t say anything about the World, but she stared at it for what felt like hours. Finally, she simply glanced at April, a sort of understanding filling her eyes.
April inhaled sharply, then called to Nicola before either of them could say anything else. “We’re ready for you.”
“Wonderful.” Nicola popped up from the couch, then took an iPad out of her bag before walking over to them. “I’m so excited to see what you have for me.”
She started with April’s project. She went slowly, methodically, scrutinizing each piece and scribbling some notes with her stylus every now and then. April stood by the Fool, waiting, while Daphne had moved to wait by her own pieces, giving the artist and the curator their time.
“Well,” Nicola finally said after a good half hour. She tapped a few things on her iPad again before tucking it under her arm and looking at April. “A powerful series, April. You should be proud.”
“I am,” April said, her sweaty palms clasped together in front of her. “Thank you.”
Nicola’s smile was genuine, and as she walked toward Daphne, April felt a different kind of relief filling her, a golden light through her veins.
Nicola took longer on Daphne’s pieces. Even though there were only four of them, she analyzed them like an art history student, nearly pressing her nose to the canvases, even touching the paint strokes here and there, with Daphne’s permission.
She wrote a lot of notes, made a lot of hmm noises, and by the time she was finished forty-five minutes later, April knew.
She knew, and her blood felt warm, her limbs languid, an excitement blooming in the center of her chest like a firework in slow motion.
“I’m extremely impressed with both of you,” Nicola said as she stood near Daphne’s final piece. “Your work shows a true evolution, and what I love most is that both of your journeys are unfinished. As is true for all of us.”
April swallowed, glancing at Daphne, who looked tense enough to snap, her shoulders rigid, her mouth held in a tight line. April wanted to hold her hand, to tell her it was all going to be fine, it was going to work out just like she dreamed, but she didn’t move. Didn’t dare breathe.
“Both of these projects deserve a place in the world,” Nicola went on. “In fact, I demand that you find that place.”
She glanced at April when she said this, and April let herself smile in acknowledgment.
“As for the Devon,” Nicola said, then turned to face Daphne. “I’d like to feature your series, Daphne. If you’re willing and able.”
Daphne’s mouth dropped open, true shock spilling over her face like a sunrise, spreading light until it reached her eyes.
“Really?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
“Really,” Nicola said.
“Yes,” Daphne said on a laugh. “Oh my god, yes, thank you so much.”
Nicola smiled and held out her hand. “Welcome to the Devon family.”
Daphne shook her hand, and April watched her while she chatted with Nicola for a second, setting up a time to meet on Monday to go over the details before Nicola flew back to London.
Finally, Nicola gathered her bag, tucking her iPad inside, and headed for the door. She paused at April’s side, tilting her head as she glanced at the Fool again.
“Find a place,” she said.
April smiled, a genuine bend of her mouth. “I will. I promise. Thank you.”
“Good.” Nicola winked at her, nudged her with an elbow in a sort of camaraderie that made April puff out her chest a little, then click-clacked out of the room, all class and grace.
April kept her eyes on the doorway for a second, the silence settling through the room.
“April,” Daphne said.
April turned and her chest felt tight, her eyes aching, but not because of Nicola’s decision.
She’d known what the outcome was here, in her heart, maybe ever since the first time she saw Daphne’s painting, before Nicola even sauntered into the art room and invited Daphne to be considered for the Devon.
That choice was right, it was perfect, and April knew it.
So right now, she wasn’t shaking from losing out on something. She wasn’t even thinking about what the hell she was going to do now.
Because she knew exactly what she wanted.
“Congratulations,” she said, stepping toward Daphne, her voice trembling.
“Thank you,” Daphne said, her voice quiet and trembling too. April wanted to tell her to shout it, to own it. But then Daphne cleared her throat, straightened her shoulders, and said it louder herself. Clearer.
“Good girl,” April said.
Daphne laughed, then covered her mouth with her hands. “I can’t believe it,” she said through her fingers.
“I can. You belong in the Devon.”
Daphne dropped her hands. “I don’t think I could’ve gotten here without you.”
“That’s not true at all,” April said.
She’d moved closer now, so close they were a breath apart. April took both of Daphne’s hands in hers, held them to her chest.
“Thank you all the same,” Daphne said, resting her forehead against April’s.
“You’re welcome all the same,” April said.
“April,” Daphne said, taking a deep breath and pulling back to look at her. She bit her lip again, just like she had before Nicola had arrived, as though she was bracing herself for something, some declaration.
But April needed to declare first.
“I want to come with you,” she said.
Daphne’s head popped up, her eyes round. “What?”
“Just hear me out,” April said, her voice shaking a little. Her whole body was shaking, in fact, a dry leaf drinking up the first drops of rain.
“April,” Daphne said. “I—”
“You belong in the Devon,” April went on quickly, fingers tightening around Daphne’s. “You do. No question. I’m so happy for you. And I’m going to do what Nicola said—I’m going to find a place for Fool’s Passage.”
“Good.”
“But I want to do that with you.”
Daphne’s mouth opened a little, lower lip trembling.
“I want to go to London with you,” April said.
“It’s the perfect time. I’ll rework my pieces.
I think it might make a great tarot deck, and I’ll write the guidebook too.
Get a job in a café or tattoo shop while I work on it, I don’t care.
We’ll bash around London, you and me, while you become a star. ”
“A star,” Daphne said, shaking her head.
“Or whatever you want to be. You can do anything, Daphne Love. You believe that now, don’t you?”
Daphne’s eyes fluttered closed for a second before opening again, tears brimming and then spilling over. April leaned forward and kissed them away, untangled their hands so she could hold Daphne’s face in hers.
“You believe that?” April said again.
Daphne nodded. “I do. But—”
“Good, good,” April said, laughing a little even as her own tears threatened to fall. “So we’ll go together. We’ll do this together. Figure this out, making it whatever we want—”
“April, I can’t.”
Everything stopped.
The tears, the laugh on April’s mouth. The relief that had just started to burgeon in her chest. The excitement. Everything.
“What?” April asked. Because maybe she heard wrong, heard a t on the end of Daphne’s own declaration when there wasn’t one, her fears creating a scenario that didn’t exist.
But when more tears streamed down Daphne’s cheeks, when she removed April’s hands from her face, clutching at her fingers and holding them to her own chest, a plea in her expression, April knew her hearing was just fine.
“April,” Daphne said softly.
April wasn’t sure what to say. Her instinct was to pull away, to run, to say okay, never mind, that’s fine.
I’m fine.
But she wasn’t.
And she had nowhere else to go.