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Claire thought of Eva and the cheerful atmosphere of Sweet Delights. Perhaps visiting the cafe regularly would help fill some of the void David had left in her heart. She read the history of the town for almost 2 hours, becoming so immersed in the tales of the town's early pioneers and growth that her eyes began to droop and her focus started to wane. She closed the book with a sigh and stood up from her cozy chair, deciding a short break and a cup of coffee were in order before resuming her reading.
She walked into the small kitchen of her new cottage and started the coffee maker. Claire gazed out the kitchen window at the stately old maple tree in her small backyard as she waited for the machine to heat up. She wondered how many years that tree had stood watch over this very cottage and property. How many seasons had it witnessed pass by throughout the town's long history?
As the coffee machine started to drip out her coffee, the rich aroma filled the air, waking Claire's senses and lifting her spirits ever so slightly. The coffee pot beeped, signaling it had finished brewing. Claire poured the steaming liquid into her mug, filling it almost to the brim. She added a splash of creamer before capping the container and returning it to the fridge. Claire considered simply returning to her worn reading chair and losing herself once more in the pages of her book. But the lure of her art studio proved too strong to resist.
The spare bedroom that now served as Claire's art studio was cluttered with half-opened moving boxes and covered easels. Art supplies spilled from cabinets and drawers, while canvases leaned haphazardly against the walls. Yet amongst the chaos, Claire felt a sense of peace wash over her. Here, surrounded by the smells of paint and turpentine, she knew she could not stay away from her brushes and canvases for long.
In between sips of coffee, Claire began to unpack her art supplies, carefully placing each brush and palette on her workbench as if tending to a delicate garden. Her fingers trailed over her favorite set of oil paints, and she couldn't help but smile.
Finally, Claire pulled the dusty drop cloth off her easel, revealing the half-finished painting beneath. She'd nearly completed her study of the old oak tree in her backyard, the branches now beginning to burst forth in the first leaves of spring. "Alright, it's time to make some magic happen," Claire whispered to herself, rolling up her sleeves and picking up a brush. She dipped it into the swirling colors on her palette, feeling the familiar thrill of anticipation course through her veins. With each stroke, she poured her thoughts and emotions onto the canvas, allowing herself to get lost in the world of color and form. It wasn't her best work, she could admit that to herself, but she was painting again for the first time in weeks and that was what was most important to her.
Claire became so absorbed in her painting that she lost track of time. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since visiting the bakery hours before. Daisy wandered into the studio meowing for attention. Claire put down her paintbrush and lifted her cat, cuddling her close and kissing the top of her soft furry head. Daisy purred loudly, nuzzling Claire's face and making her smile.
Claire placed her feline companion on the floor, and stretched her tired limbs, her muscles protesting after hours spent standing hunched over her easel.
"Alright, alright. I know, you're hungry," Claire said, scooping up the cat. "Let's go find you something to eat."
Daisy meowed in response, rubbing her face against Claire's hand. Claire smiled at her cat and stroked her soft fur. "Actually, I'll make us both something to eat," Claire promised her cat, as they walked out of her art studio and toward the kitchen.
Once in the kitchen, Claire opened a can of food for Daisy, put it into her bowl, then frowned. "It's getting late. Maybe we should get take out." After a moment she shook her head. "We can make pasta faster than we could get take out, and I'm not even sure who would be able to deliver in such a small town." She walked into the kitchen and opened the pantry, surveying her options for pasta. Eventually she pulled out a jar of marinara sauce. It would be plain, but it would be good.
She filled a pot with water and set it on the stove to boil. While waiting for the water to heat up, Claire chopped some onions, garlic, and bell peppers and added them to the sauce she had sizzling in a pan beside the pasta water. Once the pasta was cooked, she drained it in a colander and mixed it with the sauce in a large bowl. Claire carried her meal outside and sat down at the small table on her back porch. The warm evening air was comforting. Daisy joined her, curling up at Claire's feet and basking in the last rays of daylight. She would get more done tomorrow, she vowed. It was enough that they had done the little that they had managed to today. She breathed deeply, letting the clean air fill her lungs. A slight breeze rustled the leaves in the nearby trees, causing them to sway gently.
"It's so beautiful here, isn't it, Daisy?" Claire asked her cat, who was still curled up at her feet. "What do you think of making breakfast at Sweet Delights a regular thing?" Her cat flicked her tail, largely ignoring her as she watched some birds. Shrugging, Claire kept eating. She hadn't seen much else to eat in the square. Maybe there were a few restaurants outside of the square, but it was nice to have a place to go within walking distance. "Yes, I think we'll do just that."
A few minutes later, Claire was finished. She rinsed off her dishes and left them in the sink. She would take care of them in the morning. It had been a long day.
"C'mon, let's get ready for bed, girl." She lifted Daisy and walked into the bedroom. "I'm sorry, but I've had enough for today." She gave Daisy a kiss on the top of her head before setting her on the bed. She went and grabbed her pajamas from her dresser and her favorite book from her nightstand. Once she had changed and climbed into bed, she opened her book and started to read.
Her mind began to wander though, and after only a few pages, she felt her eyes start to grow heavy. She yawned and stretched before closing her book.
"Good night, sweet girl," she whispered to Daisy, reaching out to stroke her fur. She turned off her bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
Chapter Six
Eva slid her key into the lock of her small, one-bedroom apartment with a weary sigh. She loved the bustle and chatter of customers at Sweet Delights during the day, and coming home to this empty space each night never failed to dampen Eva's spirits. If she could move into Sweet Delights full time, she would.
Pushing open the creaky door, she stepped into the dark, silent apartment. She flipped on the entryway light, illuminating the cozy yet lonely interior.
Dumping her keys and purse on the kitchen counter, Eva opened the fridge in search of something quick to eat. But nothing appealed to her appetite. She wasn't used to cooking for one. She would have grabbed some of the quiche Michael had made, but they had sold out of it quickly. He was definitely a genius when it came to savory foods.
Wandering into the living room, Eva contemplated pouring herself a glass of Malbec as she did most nights. But even the prospect of the velvety red wine easing her mind couldn't overcome the oppressive silence hanging over the apartment.
This place had never felt so empty before. But then again, she'd never been the only one living here. Not until Liz left. This had been their first place together, something they'd picked out and had both loved.
Apparently not enough though.
Eva sank down onto the couch, the weight of loneliness pressing down on her. How many nights had she and Liz curled up on this very couch, laughing over glasses of wine as they talked about their day or watched TV?
Before she could stop herself, Eva picked up her phone, fingers moving instinctively to Liz's number. She ached to hear the familiar voice that used to fill this void.
But just before calling her, Eva forced herself to stop. Liz had made her choice clear. Calling her now would only lead to more hurt. She would seem desperate, and like she was begging Liz to choose her. She was desperate and she would have begged, but it wouldn't have done any good. She'd already tried that.
Frustration boiled up to replace the momentary longing. She had trusted Liz with her heart for years. And it still devastated her to know that in the end, she was so easily replaced.
Standing abruptly, Eva grabbed her wallet and keys. She had to get out of this apartment tonight, even just for a little while. Being alone with her thoughts was dangerous, she knew from experience these past months.
Closing the front door behind her, Eva headed out into the evening - seeking light, air, anything to distract from the darkness Liz's betrayal had left lingering within these walls.
