Rebel Witch
Page 27
The drive to downtown Twin Rivers takes twenty minutes, and I’m antsy the whole way there. By the time we pull onto Orchid Street, my leg is jiggling so much that Calder reaches over from the driver’s seat to cover my knee with his hand.
“There’s nothing to be nervous about,” he says.
I look into his eyes, willing myself to believe him. “It’s just… What if no one shows up? Or what if people do?”
Calder squeezes my knee gently. “No matter what, you have us.”
Just like that, the anxiety swirling in my mind and curling in the pit of my stomach evaporates. He’s right. After everything the five of us have been through together, tonight is nothing.
Calder steers the car into a parking spot behind Silver Light Gallery and cuts the ignition. I close my eyes and inhale deeply, willing the last of my nerves to leave as I exhale the breath. By the time I open my eyes, Taj has opened my door. He stands on the pavement with his hand out and a smile on his face.
“You ready, love?”
I take his hand and allow him to help me from my seat. “No. But that won’t stop me.”
His grin broadens. “That’s my girl.” Lacing his fingers between mine, Taj leads the way toward the gallery’s back door.
A woman with a halo of golden hair surrounding her face exits the building and comes to meet us halfway. She offers a bright smile, showing off dazzling white teeth. “Bryn!” She leans forward, planting kisses in the air above each of my cheeks.
“Demelza.” I do my best to return her air kisses, but she moves swiftly—especially for a woman in her seventies. “I meant to be here sooner.”
She waves away my words. “Don’t worry, my dear. I was young once, too, you know. If I were constantly surrounded by such… amiable young men, I doubt I would ever leave my house.” She eyes each of my guys with an expression that makes it clear she’s spent time imagining such a scenario. After a long moment, during which Taj switches his weight from foot to foot and Silas releases a dry cough, she waves her hand toward the door. “Well, let’s get you inside. You’re probably freezing out here. And so are the people waiting out front.”
Taj takes a step forward, but I stay rooted to my spot. “People waiting out front?”
Demelza doesn’t slow her pace. “Of course, dear. They’re waiting for the exhibition to begin.”
Poe, Calder, and Silas follow Demelza into the gallery, but I remain still. “There are people outside.”
Taj chuckles. “Is that worse than having nobody outside?”
I shake my head, unsure how to respond.
Taj moves until he’s standing in front of me, keeping a hold of my hand. “Look at me.” He pauses, waiting until I comply. “You’re going to be brilliant. No one made these people come here. They came of their own free will because they’re interested in you and in the things you’ve created. You don’t need to impress anyone. They’re already impressed. You have the easy job of showing up and drinking champagne.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “Well, that last part doesn’t sound so bad.” I pulse his fingers. “Okay, let’s go.”
A buzz of voices reaches my ears as soon as I step inside the gallery. The back door leads to a long hallway, but the walls here are just as stark white as they are in the rest of the room, and they stretch up just as tall. I swear, the ceiling must be at least twenty feet above us, giving the whole space an open, endless feeling.
At the end of the hall, we come to the first piece of art hanging on the wall. It’s a watercolor painting of delicate flowers, each petal so thin it’s translucent as it builds upon the next. During a typical visit, I would spend some time walking through the building, identifying which pieces were new. But tonight is anything but typical.
At least fifty people stand in the back corner of the gallery, already examining the new exhibit which was installed earlier today. My exhibit.
After the five of us settled down in Twin Rivers, I found Silver Light Gallery one day when Taj and I were walking around downtown. I quickly became a regular visitor and started having long chats with Demelza about art. When she found out how much painting I’ve been doing, she offered to show a couple of my works in the gallery. Initially, I turned her down. Paying someone a fee to hang one of my paintings seemed vain. It took convincing from Silas before I decided to go for it.
I selected two paintings and paid the showing fee. They were both sold within a week. Since the fee covered me for a month, I provided Demelza with two more paintings. Those sold as well.
And now, months later, here we are. Thirty of my paintings are on display in Demelsa’s coveted “artist’s corner.” This isn’t space I had to rent. Demelza paid me to hold the exhibit here. Each piece is for sale, and Demelza has been predicting that they’ll all be gone within the month.
As I gaze at the scene before me, the last bit of tension drains from my muscles. Demelza is in her glory, giving animated descriptions of my brushwork and use of color and light and shadows. I spot some familiar forms among the group. One man stands a head above the other patrons. Hagan. I smile. Sophie must be here, too. I also catch sight of a girl with long brown curls darting in and out of the crowd. Tears bite at the corners of my eyes. I can’t believe Connie and Ginger came all the way from Wisdom for this. I only mentioned the exhibit in passing the last time we video chatted.
Catching sight of us, Calder nudges Poe and Silas. The three of them peel away from the others. Silas and Calder each hold two flutes of champagne, and they pass off the spares to Taj and me.
“Thank you,” I say, lifting the glass to my lips.
“Whoa, wait,” Calder says, placing his hand on my wrist to still my arm.
I tilt my head. “Why?”
Taj sniggers. “Because we have to toast first, silly.”
I look from his face to each of the others’. “Toast what?”
Silas snorts. “Me, obviously, since I’m the best dressed person here. Not that your dress isn’t awesome.” He cracks a grin. “Toast you, of course. This is your night.”
Heat rises in my cheeks at the sincerity in his tone. “Thank you. But it feels weird to be celebrated for having some paintings hanging on walls.”
“These are more than just ‘some paintings,’” Taj insists. “You took a life of loss and loneliness, and you’ve turned it into something beautiful to share with the world. Not everyone has the strength to do something like that. You’re an amazing woman, Bryn Wilder, and I love you. We all do.”
Calder, Silas, and Poe nod their agreement.
“To Bryn,” Silas says, lifting his glass.
“To Bryn,” Taj, Calder, and Poe echo.
We clink our glasses, and when I take my first sip of champagne, I know the tingling in my nose has less to do with the sparkling drink and more to do with the encompassing love of these men.
Unlike the works of art hanging on the walls, my life isn’t a finished piece. I’m a work in progress, and I can’t wait to see the beauty that comes with my next phase of life.
I turn to my partners and plant kisses on each of their lips before taking another sip of my champagne and facing the assembled crowd. With such profound love surrounding me, I have nothing to fear.
The End.
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