Seeing Colour

by Amber Faucher

  Mara was suggesting something far greater than any of them—the chance for real success. If she left, the prospect was threatened, but if she stayed, they might all profit big. They would not disregard the holes, they would patch them. They would mend things together and move forward to accomplish something bigger and better than any of them alone could ever achieve.

  It was the opportunity to take something terrible and learn from it, expanding her horizons, and challenging the conventional—exactly what Connie’s frame designs had done for her and the store when Evie had first found them, dusty and forgotten at the back of that cupboard.

  But this would mean…not getting on that plane.

  Andy caught her hand, his fingers squeezing, as he tried to keep the pleading out of the curl that quirked the corner of his mouth.

  Damn he made her nauseous! How had they gone from easy-going, tell-all, vent-all, friends to this? D’uh! A love admission, she reminded herself caustically, the thing that ruins friendships.

  The second time Andy squeezed her fingers, he said her name, and the sound of it coming from his mouth was as perfect and normal as it had always been. Evie looked up at him, hating how her bottom lip trembled, as the smile on his mouth grew wider still.

  Evie felt like he was teasing her, having read her conflicted emotions right from her face.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” She demanded, pulling her hand back from him again. She crossed them over her chest so that he couldn’t touch her again. It was too distracting.

  “Evie,” Andy repeated her name, drawing out the syllables patronizingly, “you know my thoughts on the matter.”

  “No, I don’t!” she exploded, “I’m so messed up with all of this, I don’t know what to think myself—let alone what you’re thinking!”

  The Aussie laughed and took hold of her wrists, pulling her arms out of the fold. He held both her hands, and there was nothing she could do about it. Everything else melted away. She forgot all about Mara, and Thistle, and Connie, as his calm eyes held her captive.

  His thumbs traced gentle circles on the backs of her hands. “I want you to do what you think is best…for you,”

  “But what about the tickets? The plane? You put out all this money…”

  “Doesn’t. Matter.” He smiled again and drew her hands to his mouth. He pecked the back of each, reassuring her, “I will only be a chat-window away.”

  Evie felt the corners of her eyes prick with that terrible pressure that made her nose wrinkle and her chin tremble. Sniffling back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, she threw her arms around his neck and thanked him.

  As they pulled apart, a bright-eyed Mara interjected with a peppy, “Is that a ‘yes,’ then?”

  Evie’s eyes threateningly narrowed at her boss, before she finally gave a wan nod and gratingly sighed, “Fine.”

  “Perfect!”

  The optometrist reached an eager hand across the table to her. The dispensing optician let it hang there a moment, noticing that the ice-woman began to sweat. Hoping that she wasn’t making an even bigger mistake, Evie finally shook the optometrist’s hand.

  “I look forward to seeing you at work tomorrow, Evangeline.” The optometrist said.

  Epilogue

  “Ow, ow, holy-hell, ow!” came the hissed curses.

  The girl daintily tip-toed a speedy path barefoot across the scorching sand, finally finding a shady spot underneath a palm grove, where she could sigh in relief. Evie had little experience with sand, being a farm girl from the Alberta Prairies, where you were more likely to find cows drinking from a dark coffee-coloured slough than the pristine white sandy beaches south of Adelaide. Hoping that she hadn’t burnt the bottom of her feet, Evie wished she had brought her sandals out with her when she had decided to take a siesta on the beach.

  Slathered from head to toe with SPF one million so she didn’t burn, Evie raised a hand to her eyes. The redhead surveyed her new horizon, an endless wash of blue that stretched on forever, sea and sky meeting indefinably somewhere in the middle, broken only by the odd dot here and there of either a white-capped wave or a pillow-soft cloud.

  Evie watched Andy jump to his feet on his longboard, ready to take on a new wave. His lithe form wibble-wobbled, off-balance, and she cackled mercilessly when the board shot out from under him, sending the Aussie ass over kettle into the engulfing swell.

  Turned out, Andy had told more than a few lies over the years, all of them used to create his ideal-self, care-free and without responsibilities. Most were negligible, but none of them were as egregious as the undeniable fact that her surf-slacker was a terrible surfer.

  Evie waved at the blond head that popped up out of the water. His curls were plastered to his face like a wet curtain, just as another wave pounded him under. She shook her head as Andy bobbed back up again, swimming to grab the board. He certainly had an abundance of passion for the sport, but the Aussie was more sure-footed in a bespoke suit and leather loafers than he was barefoot on a surfboard.

  Andy shimmied his way onto the red board as her smartphone began buzzing to the Stargate SG-1 theme song. She blew sand from the screen before answering the video-call.

  “Hi,” she chirped and waved a greeting to the neck and chin that filled the video screen.

  The user obviously was not accustomed to the nuances of video chat.

  Evie heard a gruff voice curse, as the camera was finally tilted to reveal brilliant kaleidoscope eyes framed by dark curls. “Och-no, lass! I let ye flit away a bonnie Scottish lass, and already you’ve gone and turned into a lobster on me!”

  Evie smiled conspiratorially as she reminded the Scot, “They have a sun here.”

  “Is that what that wretched bright light is?” he teased.

  “I’m in the shade,” the redhead said flatly.

  “Well, get yer arse inside before ye tan,” Connie joked, “I want ya ta stay Thistle’s bonnie Scottish lass. Ya can be that wee scunner’s devilishly sun-kissed silkie on yer own time.”

  “My passport still says I’m Canadian,” she patronized the designer.

  Knowing that all the flirtatious joking was Connie’s way of putting off the discussion that had pre-empted the chat, Evie cut to the chase. “Thanks for calling me back. I have good news.”

  “Mm-hmm,” came the anxious grunt, as the joker’s grin was pressed into a tight-lipped line.

  “I secured a deal with Adelaide Vision Care and Dr. King,” Evie began to explain, talking frame models and numbers. Both dispensaries were popular in the area and, as such, they had ordered a high volume of Thistle’s first line-up of frames.

  As Thistle’s Australian frame representative, Evie had no trouble securing deals with dispensaries across the country. She had just returned from a four-week stint in Sydney, where she had secured a contract with a staggering seventy-four percent of her clientele meetings, as well as another surprise for Connie.

  The designer’s anxiety had eased slightly with the news of the two newest dispensaries that would be carrying Thistle frames, so Evie eased into the next topic with out preamble. “I also located the perfect storefront in Adelaide.”

  “Mm-hmm,” this grunt was a comical mix of surprise and anxiety, that lifted his brows. They lowered, as his jaw clench. “Are ya sure…”

  “The two Thistle store’s in Scotland are already in the green, Connie,” Evie cut off his stumbling insecurities, reassuring him that business wasn’t just stable, it was booming. “Andy is more than confident with the launch. We already have three optometrist’s interested in the contract. This location is perfect, it’s basically turn-key. We are looking at a soft-opening in less than four months if all the ducks line up.”

  “He’s thrilled, Evie,” called Ian’s annoyed voice from over his partner’s shoulder.

  “Leave off, ya wanker!” Connie crowed, pushing the sandy-blond head that popped into the screen back out again, “I can talk just fine for myself.”

  The image shook, as som
eone else was manhandling the mobile on Connie. Mara’s dark eyes were narrowed in scrutiny as she teasingly inquired in a sing-song voice, “And when’s the big announcement going to be?”

  Evie rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She knew this comment was most certainly not regarding the new store or the business.

  The dispensing optician, now turned Thistle frame representative, had only been reunited with their Australian investor for five months. Most of which she had spent travelling with her suitcase-sized frame tote, showcasing Thistle to prospective new clients. Any free time had been spent getting used to the oven-like weather conditions and adjusting to having Andy as a boyfriend instead of a best friend.

  Still, despite the shade, she could feel her face turning crimson, and tersely, she reminded her business partners to mind their own business.

  “Well, someone here has an announcement to make,” Mara chuckled.

  The image on the phone screen shook again, as the camera was turned to the left. Ian held up Connie’s massive paw, to the man’s chagrin—displaying a black metal band on his ring finger. In a loud triumphant voice, the stormy eyed Scot declared, “I put a ring on it!”

  Evie’s grin was as big as her chuckle, as she watched the blood rise from Connie’s stubble-darkened neck to his narrowed brows, while Ian smiled proudly.

  “Awe! It’s about time,”

  Evie was glad the two of them were finally going to get on with their happily ever after and that she was still a part of it.

  Just then, the redhead was assaulted from behind by a soaking wet surfer, who wrapped himself about her like a sodden bath towel. The shocking cold made Evie yelp in surprise, but no matter how she wiggled, he held her firm.

  “Good news, I hear,” Andy proclaimed to the phone in her hand, as he nestled his chin into the crook between Evie’s shoulder and neck, giving his business partners a thumbs up, “congrats you guys!”

  No longer able to take the cool drip-drip of ocean water from her boyfriend, Evie pushed Andy off, “You’re freezing! Get off me.”

  Andy didn’t argue with her. He never did. His answer was always much simpler. A twist, a playful struggle, and then a kiss that always made Evie go weak in the knees.

  “Och! Now their kissing. This meetin’ is over!” Connie complained as the rest of them broke into uncontrolled laughter.