“Yeah, well, me too. I’d had a shitty few days, that’s all. Work stuff, mostly, but after a nice dance on the beach with the sexiest man ever, and a conversation with Luna last night, I felt a lot better. Today was a good day. I had a coworker try to pull one over on me, and I totally stuck up for myself. It felt good. She’s pissed, but she’ll get over it. Or she won’t, but I don’t really care.”
“Good for you.”
She reaches over and plucks a chip off my plate, then pops it into her mouth.
“How areyou?” Her face is suddenly serious.
“I’m great.”
“No, howareyou? Not small-talk stuff. I’ve been so consumed by my own issues, I haven’t checked in on you, and that’s pretty shitty of me.”
“I really am fine,” I reply and reach across the table for her hand. “In fact, I haven’t been this great in a long damn time. You don’t need to worry about me. Also, I have some good news for you.”
“Ilovegood news! Tell me.”
“Well, I have a client who comes in a couple of times a year. She’s an excellent customer and is an art lover. She doesn’t just buy for herself, but also for others as gifts.”
“I like her already.”
“Well, she asked me if I had any new watercolor work. Of course, I immediately thought of you. I explained to her that I didn’t have anything at the gallery, but that I’m very close with a talented artist who works mainly with watercolors. She’d like to see your work. She’ll likely buy several pieces. No rush, of course.”
Her mouth opens and closes, and then she sets what remains of her sandwich down and frowns at me.
“Why did you do that?”
The lump in my belly forms. The one that always does when it feels like I’ve done something wrong where Sarah’s concerned.
“What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Why would you do that? I told you the other day that I’m not ready to sell my art in a gallery, and then you go behind my back and offer it up to the first person who comes sniffing along?”
“Whoa.” I hold my hands up and shake my head. “You’re overreacting.”
“I amnot.” Sarah pushes her fingers through her still-damp hair in agitation. “This puts a lot of pressure on me.”
“It puts zero pressure on you.”
Now she stares up at me like I’ve just grown a second head.
“I just said that there’s no rush. I mean that. She’s not in a hurry. Listen to me,” I insist when she turns away and stares out at the water.
“I think I’ve heard enough.”
“No.” My voice is firm now, surprising her into whipping her head over to stare at me in surprise. “You haven’t. You told me just yesterday that your dream is to paint for a living. This opportunity isn’t quite that yet, but you have to start somewhere. Do you think that I can look into your eyes and see how fucking unhappy you are and then sit back and donothinguntil you decide that you’re brave enough to do it yourself?”
“Fuck that,” she says, this time surprisingme.“This isn’t aboutyou, Tanner. It’s me.Myart.Mytime.Myjob. If I want to sell it, I will, and it’s not up to you to decide whether or not I’m being brave enough to do it. Maybe it’s something that I just want to keep for myself because it means something to me. If I choose to share it with the world, it’ll be under my own goddamn terms. I won’t be forced into anything just because you’ve decided to be a knight on a white horse and swoop in to rescue me. I don’t need to be saved, Tanner. I’m doing great just as I am.”
“Right.” I nod and push my own plate aside. “You’re right. I should mind my own fucking business. Except, spoiler alert, youaremy business.”
“Not everything I am is up to you. Isn’t it okay, and normal, to have an off day? An off week? Hell, some people have an off year. I had a bad week, and it got to me. That doesn’t mean that I have tobe braveand turn my life upside down. I just got it flipped in the right direction as it is, and maybe I’m not ready for a big change right now. Not because I’m not brave, but because I need a little calm for a while.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. Youarebrave.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but it’s how you feel.” She licks her lips and pets Petunia when the cat hops up on the table. “I kind of hate that everyone sees me as this broken, hurt woman when I’ve pulled myself up, worked a job, and I’m putting my life together pretty damn well. If you’re not happy with where I am in my life, maybe we’re not ready to be together.”
And with that, she scoops up the cat and walks out on me, marching right for her house.
I hear her slam the door shut when she gets there, and I swear ripely.