by Allie Parker
Though Avery thought this was somewhat out of the blue, she felt her response was important to Simon, and maybe not really about herself at all. ‘I don’t believe contentment has much to do with success. Though I can tell you, these paintings have gone along way with helping me achieve happiness right now.’ Avery knew she wasn’t answering Simon’s question head-on, but she felt he wasn’t really asking her but himself this question.
‘You seem to live your life for and through your art. Is there more that brings you satisfaction?’
Avery briefly thought of Flynn and the sunset painting on the fifth floor. ‘I wouldn’t be able to paint if I didn’t have external influences and peripheral ideas.’ Then she thought of Bella and added, ‘and I wouldn’t be able to give my work or my life everything I’ve got without some form of loss and compromise.’
‘In what way?’ A small crease burrowed its way between Simon’s eyebrows.
‘I have to believe one hundred percent that I’m doing what’s best. With my painting, I risk hours of planning, labour and exertion to create for others, sometime compromising what I believe is right, so the customer is happy. But the risk is worth it when I get satisfaction from seeing the stir of emotion when people view my work.’ Avery paused and Simon remained silent, reflective. ‘To answer your initial question, I think that we can all be truly content for moments in time, for brief periods of our life. But then life shifts and moments pass. We can’t control external influences or what’s happening in our peripheral vision. All we can do is compromise along the way and attempt to make the right choices. After all, every decision we make affects those around us.’ Avery wanted to ask Simon if he was content in the way he was choosing to live his life. But the distant look in his eye told her that he was already pondering that thought.
‘Do the compromises you make and the things you do for others matter more than those you do for yourself,’ Simon asked.
‘If the things you do, whether for others or for yourself, don’t matter; don’t give you happiness and work towards contentment in some way, then why do them at all?’ Avery knew that most people didn’t like it when she answered a question by asking a question, but she also knew there wasn’t a right answer to Simon’s query without context. But, with the thought of Simon’s big heart being broken away piece by piece, she added, ‘if you’re not getting meaningful pleasure or contentment, what can you change in your life to shift the balance in your favour?’
Simon shook his head, as if attempting to dislodge certain thoughts. ‘Avery, we’ve dug a bit too deep here, considering there’s no alcohol being drunk or a couch to lie on. But I will say this, you are one smart cookie.’ Simon turned to go, but then hesitated and turned back. ‘I bet you notice the sunrise all the time.’
Avery smiled at Simon then went back to studying her painting, hoping the conversation had helped him find a path to what he was obviously searching for.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Meg and Byron left the studio late and picked up take-away on their way home. Boof greeted Meg with equal parts of enthusiasm and delight as Byron subtly made sure that everything was as it should be. He had made a habit of surveying the house as they left in the morning and again when they got home at night. Making mental notes of detail, like the position of the curtains and unusual cars parked on the street. He checked the locks hadn’t been tampered with and that there wasn’t anything suspicious in the mailbox. Once he was satisfied no one had followed them home or broken into his house, Byron relaxed into an armchair with his box of stir-fry.
‘Byron, what would you be doing now if I weren’t staying over?’
‘Eating out in a restaurant with you across the table,’ he grinned.
‘I mean, how do you spend your evenings when you’re not with me? We’ve fallen into a habit because of the Madden project, with everything revolving around that, but we’re almost finished the job now.’
‘Well, usually I share my take-away with Boof or sometimes meet friends for dinner. I go for a run or clock up a few k’s on the exercise bike. Oh, and I surf the net and buy things I don’t need on ebay. But, more often than not, I bring work home and spend the evening proofing and making notes.’ Upon reflection, Byron thought of how lacklustre his life seemed without Meg in it. He didn’t say it out loud because, with everything else going on in her life, he was trying hard to keep the mood light. But he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back, his feelings were growing almost daily; watching Meg deal with her situation and thrive on her photography again. He was proud of her and looked forward to spending more quality time, outside of their working relationship, building a personal partnership.
‘I don’t work nine to five either. Since Patrick left, I’ve been working right into the evening until I fall asleep and then get up early and start again over breakfast. Not out of necessity or passion for the work, but more about keeping occupied, distracted.’ She realised it was getting easier to talk about Patrick now that she wasn’t trying to keep everything locked inside. Now that Byron and his family knew about what was going on, and even helping, Meg felt that it wasn’t a dirty little secret anymore. ‘It’s different now though. I’m really enjoying working on the Madden project. It’s been the first real professional challenge I’ve had in a year and I’d totally forgotten how amazing it is to see my pictures hanging on walls, not just in calendars and books. I feel like the building is my own gallery. I’m so relieved that James pushed me to achieve more. I have you to thank for that, you know. I was so close to quitting when you snapped me out of that meltdown.’
‘Only because I knew you could handle it.’
‘Thank you. Thank you for seeing what I couldn’t.’
Meg stood and moved to close the gap between them. Taking Byron’s now empty bowl and putting it aside, she straddled his lap and loved the feel of his arms instantly wrapping around her. She wanted to show Byron her appreciation for the things she couldn’t seem to put into words. He had helped her in so many ways, not least of which being the happiness which bubbled in her stomach every time she saw him. Happiness she didn’t think was possible with the police investigation still ongoing and the insurance company still doubting her claim. Happiness that made her feel light when so many things should still be weighing her down. Happiness which came from being made to feel special and cared for. Happiness that made her believe in herself again. For these reasons, no matter how long she would be with Byron for, she was forever grateful and wanted to show him that appreciation in a raw, physical way.
*
The next day Byron dropped Meg off at the Madden building and continued on to the printer to proof the information booklet James had signed off on the day before. Byron checked the colours and layout with an eye for detail that made the printer staff nervous. Once he was confident that everything was in order, he ran through the remaining items that were needed for the launch of the building; the photos Meg had taken of the building for the press release and info packs; the cover art for the promotional dvds; and the place settings for the official luncheon. If the only setback was a slight delay with the Madden Enterprises’ stationery he’d ordered, then he could definitely cope with that.
Simon had been working night and day to finish the website for the launch deadline and seemed to be suddenly focused with little to no distractions. Byron was glad that it all seemed to be coming together. He looked at his watch and thought he’d better get to the building for the team meeting before he was late.
Grace and Simon pulled into the car park at the same time as Byron and they all greeted Meg and Avery in the foyer.
‘Should we converge in the usual space,’ Grace asked. Everyone nodded and they took the stairs to the communal area on the first floor. Grace handed out coffee she’d picked up on the way and kicked off with a summary of the media she’d contacted, invitations she was going to send, and other items to do with the launch of the building.
Simon took them through the latest websi
te updates and showed them one of the clips for the multimedia screens he’d finished. Byron relayed the outcomes of his visit to the printer and passed out booklet mock-ups. After fielding a few questions, Byron gave the floor to Meg.
‘All mounting and framing is complete and half the images are now in place. Flynn has been assisting with the installation and has contributed some excellent ideas on placement.’ Meg glanced at Avery then continued. ‘There’s really not that much more I can do but supervise the remaining installation, so if anyone needs a hand with anything, I’d be happy to help.’
‘Great.’ Grace looked up from her notes. ‘I’m desperate for a spare pair of hands.’ Grace and Meg quickly discussed timetables and made a time for the following day to get together.
When everyone looked towards Avery, she smiled and said, ‘I just want to say how honoured it’s been to be a part of this wonderful project. It’s been truly fantastic and I really don’t want it to end.’ She was choking up with emotion so she stood. ‘I think a viewing would be an appropriate update from my side of things.’
They all made their way from floor to floor stopping to admire each mural as they went. Avery felt proud and overwhelmed at the positive feedback from everyone. Once they were finished viewing the murals they made their way back down the stairs. Although Meg seemed confident and in control, Avery and Byron agreed that keeping her busy until the police investigation wrapped up was critical.
‘Meg, if you’re not busy this Saturday, there’s a working bee at the strawberry farm. You remember my friend Trevor who owns it? He’s injured his back and can’t finish the new season planting. We’ve managed to rustle up a small group so that we can knock it all over in one day. If you’re interested I can pick you up from Byron’s at 8:30?’
‘Of course. Do you remember the first season’s harvest? We were out there with his family in the pouring rain picking strawberries and the buckets were over flowing with water quicker than we could fill them with berries.’ Meg smiled at the memory.
‘Yeah, we were slipping and sliding all over the place. They’ve been doing really well the last few years, but since the funding cuts from the tourism department, Trevor can’t afford his usual crew until harvesting time. He was hoping he and his family could get the plants in the ground themselves over a few weeks, but the doctor has ordered bed rest until well after the plants are due to be in the ground.’
Byron, who was listening in to the conversation from two steps behind them asked, ‘What did he do to his back?’
Avery stopped and turned. ‘He came off the four-wheeler and landed on a rock.’
‘I’d love to come and help too if I can.’ Byron said, thinking of the man laid up in bed not being able to provide for his family.
‘That would be great, only if you have the time.
‘I think it would be good to get some fresh air.’ Plus it was another activity away from the studio and Meg’s worries.
They were all saying their goodbyes in the foyer when Flynn joined the group. He made awkward small talk then addressed Avery quietly. ‘Would you have time for a coffee?’ Avery noticed Flynn had changed into clean jeans and a shirt.
‘That would be lovely,’ Avery smiled her goodbyes and the pair walked outside to a cafe two blocks down, overlooking the water. They sat at a table by the window and Avery asked Flynn about the finishing details of the building. Flynn asked Avery what her plans were for the weekend and she filled him in on the strawberry planting.
‘Count me in.’ He was planning on asking Avery on a picnic but he could tell how important this was to her. He knew that friendship and community were fundamental elements in Avery’s life. All he wanted was to spend time with her, and he didn’t mind helping out.
Avery was about to protest, saying that Flynn didn’t need to bother himself with the planting, but the thought of seeing him on the weekend made her smile instead.
Changing the subject Flynn said, ‘now, there’s a reason I wanted to catch you today.’
Avery hoped that Flynn didn’t think he always needed a reason to see her; they were friends and could see each other any time they wanted. But then he started talking about the painting of hers that had been vandalised while hanging in a hotel. At first she was confused why Flynn would want to talk about it again, as far as she was aware the whole mess had been cleared up. However, the more Flynn said, in his calm measured way, the more Avery leaned in closer to lap up every word. She couldn’t believe her ears. Her first reaction was to wonder if she should be annoyed that Flynn hadn’t told her what he was doing with something that was entirely her business and no one else’s. But as the story he told unfolded, Avery realised that Flynn was looking out for her and that what he’d found actually had very little to do with her at all. They sat huddled in the cafe for another hour discussing detail and planning the next steps carefully and methodically together. By the time they left the cafe, Avery felt a bit shocked at what she had found out and Flynn felt relieved to finally have told Avery what he knew. He hated having secrets from her.
In a gesture which seemed natural; Flynn took Avery’s hand in his as they slowly walked back up the street. As city workers bustled past them, he rubbed his thumb on the soft, delicate side of her wrist and took a deep breath. He always felt clearer when he was with Avery. He didn’t want to get to her car; he wanted to keep walking with her hand in his. He didn’t want her to go home to Chadwick and leave him in the lonely building that was now reminding him he didn’t have a home. Everything about the project was winding down. Most trades had finished going through the defects list he’d given them and the silence that he once craved was now mocking him. Her hand fit so neatly inside his own that he knew he’d have to ask her soon what exactly it was they had between them. Was he imagining their chemistry? Avery was so friendly and generous with everyone that it was hard to tell sometimes. He desperately wanted to confirm their relationship but felt he needed to sort out his life before he knew what he could offer her. He didn’t even have a home for God’s sake; let alone a job to go on to. He needed to get his life sorted.
‘I’d better go in and call James to see what time he can meet me in the morning,’ Flynn said when they reached Avery’s car.
‘Ok.’ Avery didn’t want to let go of Flynn’s hand. All the way back to the car she was thinking about what Flynn had uncovered concerning her painting and what she should do with the information. It was so nice that they could just walk, hand in hand, and be content in each other’s company. Flynn kissed her on the cheek before letting her hand go and opening the car door for her. Only when her taillights had left the parking lot did Flynn turn and go inside.
Chapter Thirty
The weather on Saturday was sunny with a slight breeze to keep it from being too warm. When Avery, Meg and Byron arrived at the strawberry farm, a large field was ploughed into neat rows with perfect mounds covered in plastic and straw ready for the tiny strawberry seedlings to be planted. As they made their way around to the shed, where everyone gathered ready to receive instructions and supplies, Avery heard a familiar laugh carry across the morning air. When she poked her head in the doorway she heard Flynn telling a few other men she recognised a tale about a farm he had spent time on as a teenager. Flynn’s work clothes were grubby and Avery guessed that he’d been there for some time already. She caught Flynn’s eye as he finished his story and he sent her a warm smile.
Once everyone had a pair of gloves and a number of small buckets each, they assembled at the top of the field. The idea was to stand on the straw in the grooves that ran between the rows and work in pairs. One person would slit a small opening in the plastic and dig a hole; the second person would add a mix of fertilizer and lime and plant the seedling and then continue that rhythm while moving on down the row.
Meg and Byron teamed up with Avery and someone she knew from Art on East and they worked side by side chatting as they went. They had finished four whole rows and done about a thousand squats by th
e time a bell sounded for lunch. Flynn grabbed a plate and joined Avery at the table bursting with food. ‘Quite a good turnout isn’t it.’ As much as he wanted to sort out his life, he found that he couldn’t stay away from Avery in the meantime. She had finished the murals for the Madden building so he needed to capture every opportunity possible to keep seeing her.
‘There you are, I didn’t see you out there,’ Avery smiled questioningly.
‘I’ve been helping John with the tractor and the irrigation system.’ Flynn grinned and Avery couldn’t remember seeing him looking so happy and relaxed.
‘What time did you get here?’
‘I was up early so I made my way out here and introduced myself to John who was supervising the field prep. Must have been about 7:30 I reckon.’
Just as Avery was getting a knife and folk, Flynn gently took her arm. ‘I’ve already found us somewhere to eat.’ He led her to a shady spot to the side of the shed with a picnic rug laid out and a thermos and cups in the middle.
‘I hope you don’t mind sitting away from the others,’ he said as an afterthought.
‘As long as I don’t have to squat, I’m fine anywhere.’ Avery laughed and sat down. They talked about how Avery knew the owners of the farm and Flynn’s background as a farmhand in his agriculture days. They were still deep in conversation, laying on the rug with their backs against some trees, when someone yelled out that it was time to get back to work. Avery felt rejuvenated and refreshed by the time she made it back to the rows and strawberry plants. Which was a good thing considering they weren’t even halfway through yet.
At three o’clock, after another thousand squats, the bell sounded for afternoon tea. Once again, Flynn found Avery while they piled scones with fresh jam and cream onto their plates. Sitting back on the rug, Flynn playfully enquired about Avery’s planting technique. She talked up her skill and laughed at the thought of how her glutes would feel the next day. After the scones were gone and the tea was almost finished, Flynn and Avery lay on their sides facing each other, elbows bent and heads resting on their hands, talking about nothing in particular. Just because he wanted to, Flynn reached out his free hand and brushed lightly at a smear of dirt on Avery’s jaw. She smiled sleepily at the intimate gesture. As Flynn leaned in slowly, Avery’s eyes fell to his lips. She tilted her face and held his gaze for a moment before sinking into the kiss. She brought her free hand to his stubbled cheek just as the bell sounded to get back to work. After a long moment, Flynn eased back, a lazy grin spreading across his face. Avery sighed contently as he helped her to her feet and kissed her gently on the forehead.
