Authors: Amity Hope
“Oh, look at all those booths!” I said in a pitiful effort to distract him. I pointed to the vast field the festival was being held in. There were tents and wooden booths and enormous display areas scattered everywhere.
“Yeah,” he laughed, knowing exactly what I was doing. “Just look at that.”
As it turned out, there
were
a lot of booths. We wandered around, hand in hand, checking everything out. Max was particularly interested in the food booths, as predicted. He got his cheese curds and something funky on a stick. We both got malts and we explored our way through the mazes. Some of the artwork was abstract, some of it craftier than artsy. What I was most drawn to were the booths that displayed jewelry.
A few carried items similar to what I did make, or could make. It was interesting to look around and compare what I’d come up with to what other people had come up with. What I liked most were the items completely out of my realm of
capability.
I spent a ridiculous amount of time
circling a booth that was filled with blown glass. While some of the bigger items were amazing, it was, of course, the jewelry that caught my eye.
“What do you have there?” Max asked as he peeked over my shoulder.
I had a piece of jewelry in the palm of my hand and I held it up to him. It was a quarter sized pendant on a silver chain.
“
That’s cool. You like that?” he asked.
“I love it,” I said as I pulled my hand back so I could inspect it again. I glanced at the others hanging on the display. They were all one of a kind and while several caught my eye, the one in my hand was still my favorite.
It was pink and at the risk of sounding like a generic girly-girl, I loved pink. I looked down at it again. The back of it was white. The front was pale pink in a honeycomb pattern. I wasn’t familiar with blown glass and I hadn’t seen anything like it before. It was so dainty and unique and…I wanted it.
“It’s yours,” Max whispered in my ear.
I glanced up at him. “What?”
“It’s yours,” he said, louder this time. “I just paid for it.”
He plucked it out of my hand. “Turn around,” he said.
I did as he asked and he placed it around my neck. My fingers flew up, rubbing the smooth surface of it. “You didn’t have to do that. But thank you. I love it.” I couldn’t stop smiling and he just smiled back, shaking his head.
“Are you done here?” he wondered. “Because there’s a booth over there I really want to check out.”
“
The one with artwork made out of hubcaps?” I guessed. I realized I had sort of been monopolizing the evening, looking at the booths I’d wanted to look at. It hadn’t occurred to me that Max was there for anything other than the food. But I decided there were a few things I thought might hold his interest.
His head snapped up. “
Hubcap art? Where did you see that?”
I pointed and his eyes followed. A smile lit up his face. “Yeah, I want to check out that one too. But first,
let’s go look at the one that has sculptures made out of old tires.”
Chapter 19
Collin
was still calling every few days. I felt no obligation to answer. I knew there was a good possibility that I wasn’t doing myself any favors by avoiding the situation. A nagging little voice was telling me I should just deal with it, once and for all. Yet that childish voice was still saying…
Why should I
?
I was grumbling about Collin in my head as I slid
my banana bread into the oven. I was enjoying having a kitchen all to myself. It sure beat the dorms where I’d spent nearly a year living off whatever I could create in the small microwave my roommate and I shared.
As I was wiping down the counter, cleaning up my mess and pondering what to make for dinner, there was a knock on the door.
For a moment, I just stood there. Other than Mike, who had a key, we’d never had company before. I wasn’t expecting company so I wondered if I should just pretend I wasn’t home. What if it was one of those crazy people pretending to be the gas man or something?
The knock turned into a persistent pounding. I crept to the window over the sink and spotted a familiar car in the driveway.
Villette.
As soon as I realized it was Max’s grandma I hurried to th
e door. “Sorry,” I said. “I was just trying to get some banana bread in the oven. Come on in!”
“I should’ve called first, I know,” she said. “But since I don’t have your number, I couldn’t. So here I am.”
“I’m glad you stopped by, it’s nice to see you.” I hesitated, she’d never stopped by before. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” she said as s
he glanced around. “I know this is probably an odd request but do you mind if I walk through? When Mike was here he was giving Max a hard time. That little bugger said it looked like a flamingo vomited on the walls. Although, I do believe the term he used was ‘hurled’,” she said with a scowl.
“Of course, go ahead.
” I refrained from pointing out that it was her house. She didn’t need to ask. It was nice that she did, though.
I traipsed after her. She made little
harrumphing
sounds as she went. She poked her head into my room and I was glad I’d already made my bed. Next she peeked into Max’s. She came back out, shaking her head.
“It’s not often that I agree with Mike, but in this case, it’s a little hard to argue
. I haven’t been here for quite some time. I forgot just how dreadful the décor is. Maybe this is why those daughters of mine refuse visit,” she mused. “It is a bit on the hideous side, isn’t it?”
I let my eyes wander
over the coral-colored walls. I didn’t mind the color…for a dress or a bikini. I tried to keep my comment positive. “It’s not so bad. But I like pink,” I said with a shrug.
“Well, my grandson shouldn’t have to live in a pink house. No wonder Mike was giving him a hard time,” she said.
“At least it’s not a pale pink,” I offered. “It’s kind of…a festive pink.”
“Pink is pink and it has got to go,” she decided.
“Max has never complained about it,” I told her.
“That’s because he’s so
laid-back. He probably never even noticed,” she said.
She walked back out to the kitchen, I assumed to take in the view of the ocean. She stopped, apparently not noticing my mess until now.
“For goodness’ sake!” she cried as she neared the table.
“I know,” I said, cringing, “I’m sorry. It’s kind of a disaster area. I’ll get it straightened up by this afternoon.”
She was shaking her head. “I wouldn’t hear of that.” She plucked a pair of earrings off the table. “These are lovely! I assume you make them?”
“I do,” I affirmed
as I edged closer. “I’ve been making them for a few years. They keep me busy when Max is gone. Only now,” I motioned to the surplus, “I have so many I don’t know what to do with them all.”
“This pair is quite nice,”
she stated as she held a pair up to her ears. They were made with sterling silver, pearls and crystal beads. I had several similar pairs spread out across the expanse of the table.
“Take them, they’re yours,” I said.
“I think I will,” she said as she gave me a wink.
“In fact, you can take as many as you like,” I offered.
“I have a few bracelets here and,” I slid a few things around, “several necklaces under here.”
“Well, in that case,” she said as she sorted through them. She pulled out a few more pairs, studied them, put a pair or two back and studied a few more. In the end, she chose an additional three pairs
along with a matching necklace and bracelet. “And the rest of them?”
I shrugged. “I
keep the ones I really like. I don’t know what I’ll do with all of these. I’ll probably end up giving them all away.”
“I think I have a better idea,” she said. “What would you think of letting me take these with me when I go? I would love to set up a display in the gift shop. You could make a little money and I would be able to boast that our gift shop sells handmade, original jewelry.”
For just a moment, I wasn’t sure what to say. My first thought was that she was making the offer to humor me. Yet, the hopeful, eager look she gave me suggested that she really did like the idea.
“Are you serious?” I asked. I glanced down at my work area. I really had gotten carried away. Free time tended to do that to me.
“Absolutely serious!” she proclaimed. She narrowed her eyes and motioned with her free hand. “I can already picture the display, right at the front counter so they will be impossible to miss.”
I had absolutely no reason to say no. So I accepted.
We gathered them up, every last pair as well as most of my necklaces and bracelets. Once the jewelry was settled into her car she turned to me with a conspiratorial smile.
“I suppose you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”
“You didn’t just stop in to say ‘hello’ and to look at the walls?” I asked.
She looped h
er arm through mine. “Not entirely. I was hoping you would humor an old lady. I would like it very much if you’d join me for lunch. Followed by a bit of shopping, of course.”
“Yes,” I said with a laugh. “I think I could handle a little bit of shopping.”
“You just might change your mind when you hear what I am shopping for.”
As it turned out
, she wanted me to help her pick out paint.
We spent the entire afternoon sorting through paint samples. Then she decided that wasn’t quite enough. We picked out new comforters for the beds and a new cover
ing for the couch. She asked if I’d mind the painting crew being around.
I had an even better idea. I offered to do the painting myself. At first she was hesitant and
I nearly ended up begging. I enjoyed painting. With my dad’s approval, I’d painted my bedroom back home twice. I certainly had the time. Most of all, it would make me feel as though I had done something to earn my keep over the summer. Once I assured her that I really did know what I was doing, we’d gone back into the store and purchased a load of painting supplies.
When we returned she helped me carry everything inside. She took one more look around. “I can’t believe I let this place go so long,” she admitted. “I can’t wait to see
it when it’s done.”
“I’m sure it’ll look really nice,” I said.
Despite the huge array of colors we’d sorted through, she had decided on a rich, simple cream for the entire house. Her reasoning was that cream went with everything and it could be spruced up with some color. While I may have gone with warmer tones, it was her house and I understood her reasoning. Also, it would be easier for me, going room to room with one color.
“I think it will make it look bigger, don’t you?” she asked. “
Light colors make a room look nice and airy.”
I nodded my agreement, trying to picture it. Anything had to be better than flamingo vomit.
“You know, we plan on giving this house to Max for his graduation present. His aunts are going to have holy conniption fits,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “But that’s just too damn bad. Not a one of them has ever shown an interest the way that Max has. Charles and I aren’t getting younger and you can’t take it with you when you go. So we want to be the ones who decide what to do with it
before
we’re gone. None of my other grandchildren come to visit at all. I couldn’t even tell you the last time one of them stepped into the winery.”
“Max mentioned that,” I said sympathetically.
“This grandson of mine, he’s the only one who comes to visit because he actually wants to see us. Last summer, he stayed here, at the beach house. But he came over for lunch every single Saturday and he would stay through the afternoon.” She shook her head. “But Mike, he comes to town and he tracks down some friends to stay out all night with. My daughters, well, they only visit when they start to worry I’m going to cut them right out of my will.” She sniffed. “They’re right, too, you know. I would. And they would deserve it. Greedy little things that I raised, every last one of them. Let me tell you!”
I didn’t know whether to laugh or frown so I waited her out.
“But not Max. I think he takes after his mother, bless her heart. I really liked that woman. She still sends me Christmas cards,” she said conspiratorially. “And she calls too! She raised that boy right. When he lived in Chamberlain, he would still come to visit in the winter and I know it wasn’t just because he wanted to get away from the snow. He actually stuck around the house keeping us old coots company. Not like Mike, he pokes his head in the last day, mooches a case of wine and off he goes.”