"Elizabeth," Marge said impatiently, as if shed said it more than once.
"What? Huh?"
Marge came forward, holding a bouquet of roses. "These are for you. "
"Oh, you didnt have to do that. "
Marge gave her a crooked grin. "I didnt. " She handed her the flowers.
The card read: Were mad, but we still love you. Good luck. Jamie and Stephanie. P. S. Were proud of you.
Proud of you. The words blurred before her eyes.
Anita moved closer. "I told them. I hope you dont mind. "
Elizabeth wanted to pull Anita into her arms, but she couldnt seem to move. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to cry. "I dont mind," she whispered harshly. "Thank you, Anita. "
Her stepmother touched her arm, squeezed gently. "Everything is going to be fine. "
Amazingly, with the flowers in her arms and her stepmother beside her, Elizabeth could almost believe it.
Marge began setting out the hors doeuvres. Tiny hot dogs wrapped in Kraft cheese strips. Then she plugged in the Crock-Pot. Within minutes, the small gallery smelled like teriyaki.
By ten oclock, the streets were packed with tourists and locals. A band played oldies in the parking lot of the Windermere Realty office, and every store was crowded with shoppers. A barely-there rain had started to fall.
Out-of-towners bought ice cream cones and kites, sweatshirts and place mats and Christmas ornaments made of driftwood and dried seaweed. They bought wind chimes made of old spoons and photographs of Haystack Rock, and watercolor paintings of the shore.
What they didnt buy was Elizabeths work.
It became more and more obvious as the day dragged on, as painful as a toothache. Marge stood at the cash register, kachinging up sales. The walls around Elizabeths work cleared out.
Joey was the first to leave. She said she needed to get to work--a big night at the Pig-in-a-Blanket--but Elizabeth had seen the pity in her new friends eyes. Joey couldnt stand to watch the slow bloodletting.
Around two oclock, Fran mentioned something about picking up her kids, and then she was gone. An hour later, Mina went to the market in search of more baby hot dogs, although there were plenty left. The only one who made no excuses was Anita; she sat on a stool in the corner, ostensibly knitting, but Elizabeth knew that her stepmother was really watching her, waiting for signs of meltdown.
Elizabeth stood against the wall, hugging herself so tightly she could barely breathe, standing so stiffly her joints ached. But her smile never faltered.
Shed been stupid to expect anything different. She admitted that tiny disappointment, then tucked it away. This wasnt a mistake shed make again, and there was no point gnawing over it. What was done was done.
And if she felt as fragile as a damp tissue, that too would pass. As long as she didnt make any sudden moves, shed get through the rest of this day. Then shed make it through the night, and the next day, and so on. That was the way of things. Tonight shed go home, box up her paintings, and try to forget shed ever bothered.
The bell above the door tinkled. That had been a constant noise all day. She steeled herself to smile at someone else who wouldnt want her work.
Daniel stood there, filling the doorway. Sunlight gilded his blond hair.
"Hows it going?" he asked, coming toward her.
"Not good. Actually, thats an overstatement. "
He walked past her, stood in front of her work. It was difficult to miss; every other wall was bare. Finally, he turned to look at her. "These are beautiful. You really have a remarkable talent. "
"Oh, yeah. I know. " She was an eyelash away from losing it. Before he could see how weakened she was, she rushed out of the store.
Outside, she could breathe.
He followed her out. "How about a latte?"
"Great. "