Chapter 71 Poppy
“ W hat do you think of this one?” Noah holds up a badly water-damaged watercolor landscape. Bryce will be so sad. Looking at it, there isn’t much that can be done, but I feel like we owe it to the kids to bring every piece back in the best shape that we can.
“Let’s lay that one out to dry at my house. I have some fans we can use. We might be able to cut off the bad parts since they’re mostly along the edges.”
Noah brings the piece out to his car where we’ve already lugged most of the sculptures, which were thankfully not too damaged. Most were fired clay so the water didn’t have too bad of an effect on them. Sighing, I look around. We’ve separated most of the rest into piles and may need to make a couple trips. Noah’s car isn’t the largest and it took us a full van to get everything here yesterday.
My eyes catch on Noah as he starts walking back towards our piles. He’s been on his phone a lot which is odd for him. I wonder if he’s messaging with students or maybe someone new in his life. I think he was dating someone a few towns over at some point.
There are a few pieces that are unsalvageable and I haven’t decided yet how I’m going to break it to those students. One is a pastel that must have been directly under one of the leaks and where was once a beautiful self portrait is streaks of color, the rich hues now blended out to soft pinks and yellows. I remember I took photos of all the pieces a few days ago and have the idea to have the photos printed in lieu of the actual art for the show Monday.
I text my mom to see if she can swing over to Maple Springs to pick up some prints this afternoon. They know me well and won’t bat an eye at my asking for a rush job, especially when they know what it’s for. Grabbing a pen and pad of paper from my purse, I start to make a list of the pieces that are ruined so I can send those photos as soon as possible.
“What’s next?”
“Let’s still pack these.” I point to the pile of unusable projects. “I’d like to still give them back to the students even if we can’t use them.”
He grabs another load and I know that’s all that will fit. We’ll have to come back after dropping everything off at my house. I don’t know where I’m going to put everything or where they will dry out, but try to keep the mindset of first things first . I haven’t even thought of a back up plan. God. I think we’ll have to postpone. Maybe until after spring break? I know a lot of the seniors will be checked out by then. It isn’t ideal, but nothing about this situation is.
“We’ll be back,” I call out to the manager who waves back from the office. He’s also been on the phone constantly between the insurance company, plumbers, and a restoration company. He definitely has his hands full too. I make a mental note to bring him some coffee or something when we come back for the rest of the pieces.
Meeting Noah out by the car, I breathe in the cool afternoon air. The sun is staying out later now and it’s nice to feel a breeze after being inside the musty building for so long. “Thank you for your help.”
“Of course, I always like helping with the art show.”
“Even when it’s sopping wet and molding?” I laugh.
“Even then.” Noah’s eyes flash with something I’m not quite sure of before he hops into the car. “We’re going to make a pit stop before heading back to your place.”
I feel slightly annoyed, wanting to get everything drying and get back here as quickly as possible, but decide on diplomacy. “Where do we need to stop?”
“You’ll see.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Noah, what are you up to?”
He shrugs at me, turning on the radio as we head down the road.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about him, it’s that once he’s decided on something, there’s no changing his mind. It could be helping a student, brightening another teacher’s day, or running a marathon, he sticks to what he sets his mind to. I realize quickly there will be no getting any info from him about wherever it is we’re stopping, but if he believes it’s important, I’ll trust him. Although my stomach is in knots about what we’re going to do for the art show.
My mind gets swept up in thinking of options of venues and timelines for rescheduling when I see that we’ve stopped. Turning to the side I see that we’re at the bookstore. The same one Owen and I went to on our date. “Just itching to get a new book?”
“No, come with me.” He gestures to me as he gets out of the car. I slide out and place the pieces I had on my lap back on the seat and close the door. I’m completely and utterly confused.
“Noah, what are we doing? We really need to figure out what we’re going to do.” My patience is waning and while I think I’ve been holding things together fairly well, that can change. Very quickly.
He holds the door open as I give him my most quizzical look, but turning I see what he’s been hiding. The shorter bookshelves up front have been pushed back and tables are in their places. My seniors are bustling around, hanging signs and the most beautiful twinkle lights along the store walls. Grace gives me a small wave from behind the counter before nodding towards the back of the room.
“Ms. Edwards, you came!” Bryce stands right in front of me and it’s all I can do to hold back the tears that have been building over the last few days. “Come and see what we’ve done.”