‘I’ve decided to stay,’ she told him. ‘For the time being, at least,’ she clarified, when she saw hope spark in his eyes.
‘You’ve changed your mind about leaving?’
‘At this stage, I’m delaying leaving. What you said yesterday, about not making a decision based on fear? You were right. I owe it to myself to spend more time here so I don’t end up doing something I’ll regret.’
She planned to contact the selling agent of the Townsville cottage and put in an expression of interest pending finance. While the money she was set to inherit from Pru was a significant sum, it wasn’t enough to fund the entire purchase. It would definitely give her a better chance of securing a home loan, though. And maybe she wouldn’t have to sell Pru’s house at all.
Noah crossed his arms over his chest, but she could see in his eyes that he was pleased. ‘That’s great news, Beth.’
‘Plus,’ she added, ‘I can’t walk away now. I’m itching to see how you transform my house.’ She blinked, realising it was the first time she’d referred to it asherhouse rather than Pru’s.
Noah’s brows lifted. ‘So you’re saying you’ll stay long enough to see the renovation through?’
‘I will.’
‘Huh.’ He studied her for a moment, then shrugged. ‘Well, brace yourself, Bethany Sullivan, because once I’m done with that place, you won’t ever want to leave.’ He winked, delivering a smug grin before heading for the door.
Beth stood there, stunned by the feelings his promise had stirred in her belly. And as she followed him from the homestead, she tried hard to ignore how much she hoped that, in the end, he’d convince her to stay permanently.
CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
A few days later, Beth met Hana at the Boomerang Cafe for lunch. They’d already met twice since the first time they chatted, and each time, Hana had given Beth a drawing lesson. The first time, Beth had been tasked with learning to sketch an apple, then she’d graduated to a whole bowl of fruit. Impressed with her skills, Hana had asked her to bring along to today’s lesson an image of something meaningful to her. Beth had chosen the photo of her parents that Celia had given her for Christmas. It sat in its frame on the table before them, as did Hana’s notepad.
To deliver their lessons, Hana gave Beth instructions via the notepad, then demonstrated in their sketchpad how to execute those instructions. Beth then tried to emulate what Hana had shown her in her own sketch pad. Currently, she was working on the shape of her mother’s nose. Pausing, she tilted her head, squinted slightly as she studied her handiwork, then sucked her teeth in frustration.
Taking up Hana’s notepad, she wrote,Something’s not working. Can you show me how to get the tip right?
You’re doing well,Hana responded.At this stage, all you need to do is get the overall shape right. You’ll add definition later with shading.
Beth nodded, accepting that Hana knew what they were talking about and carried on.
This had become their routine, communicating mostly via the written word, and not only during lessons, either. Beth might use her voice to greet Hana when they first saw each other, but after that, the notepad came out and the two of them chatted as they ate lunch, taking time between mouthfuls to jot down a question or thought or comment. It took more time communicating this way, definitely, but it was the norm for Hana, and Beth thought it only right to express herself in the same manner. Her previous lesson had lasted for three hours and not a word had been spoken between them beyond Beth’s initial greeting. She actually found it incredibly freeing, as it gave her the opportunity to process her thoughts carefully, to ‘speak’ without the potential of getting tongue-tied. Besides, Hana seemed to appreciate the gesture.
Beth lifted her pencil from the page and studied her efforts. Not bad.
She looked to Hana for feedback and they nodded, their genuine smile of encouragement so much better than any compliment that might’ve otherwise been uttered.
Hana picked up the notepad and began listing the next lot of instructions. They were an excellent teacher—calm, patient and encouraging—and Beth was grateful for the time they were investing in teaching her. She’d always dreamed of being able to draw well. The idea of sitting out in nature, sketching a landscape and capturing its beauty without another person in sight really appealed to her. Now, thanks to Hana, she’d be able to make that dream a reality.
While Hana was occupied, Beth glanced between her drawing and her parents’ photograph. Before today’s lesson had begun, Hana had asked about the photo and why it was important to her. It had felt good to tell Hana about her parents, and writing it all down had meant she’d felt brave enough to be more vulnerable than she normally would. In fact, she hadn’t really held back at all. Hana had squeezed her hand in silent support after reading what she’d written.
It might be hard,she’d warned,to sketch them and not get it right. But as an artist, you have to let go of perfectionism. Creating art is a process; you’ll add layer after layer to a piece until you think it’s done, then you’ll come back to it a few days later and add yet more layers. No piece will ever be perfect. Remember that.
Now, Hana handed over the notepad. Beth took it and prepared to read the next set of instructions but found a suggestion instead.
I think you should join Flo’s craft group. I know you’ve only just started drawing, but every artist should be in community with other artists. The next session isn’t until after New Year’s … what do you think?
Beth took in Hana’s hopeful expression and reluctantly accepted the pencil. Should she admit the truth? That she was terrified of Elsie and her loud and colourful personality? That she didn’t think she could handle being in a room with her for an extended period of time?
In the end, she decided Hana deserved the truth. Besides, if anyone understood, she was certain Hana would.
I’ve never really admitted this to anyone before, but I suffer from social anxiety. Even the simplest of interactions can be difficult for me but being in a group can be especially overwhelming.
I get that,Hana wrote.It took me a year after moving to Karlup to find the courage to ask Flo if I could join the craft group. But in the end, I did, and it was the best decision I ever made. I’d be lost without them.
That last line struck a chord with Beth; it was exactly how she felt about Ellie and Noah. And wasn’t it the relationships she’d built with them that now had her questioning whether a life in Townsville was what she really wanted? And hadn’t she been so overwhelmed by her first interactions with them that she’d spiralled into a meltdown?
