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“Maybe you should take a nap.”
“Music to my ears. It would be the first batch of sleep since I got here. I’m still not quite used to sleeping in the middle of nowhere by myself. It’s kind of unsettling.”
“I wish I could be there with you.”
“Me too,” I said softly, and I meant it with every ounce of my being.
“Send me the dates of your readings, and I’ll book my flights.”
“Will do, and don’t forget about our date tonight.”
“Oh, you do not need to worry about that.”
“I love you, Lucas. Thank you for the bouquet of wildflowers. They mean the world.”
“You are my world, Emily.” He sighed into the phone. “And I’m sorry about getting all worked up over nothing. It’s just this long-distance thing plays havoc on me.”
I chuckled. “A little jealousy never hurt anyone.”
“I’ll have to remember that.”
“Love you, Lucas,” I said softly while holding in a yawn.
“Love you too.”
And with that, he hung up.
I let out a deep breath and stared at the planked ceiling, finally feeling like a bit of the whirlwind around me was slowing down.
When I’d first arrived here, things felt peaceful and enchanting. I felt like I could almost feel my grandma’s spirit in the woods, but then I got hit with all the aspects of this residency that I'd underestimated.
I glanced at the calendar on my phone, and it gave me the willies. There were very few moments of inactivity, and that didn’t count all the impromptu gatherings either. I scanned the dates for the readings and sent them over to Lucas.
Making my way to the front door, I opened it wide and felt the warm air skate across my skin as I stepped outside.
The birds chirped in the trees around the cabin. Squirrels hopped to their destinations, and I suddenly missed Chester and his family. I hoped my sisters were still feeding them.
My mind drifted to Marigold Island, and love swept over me as I wandered through the woods here, breathing in the freshair and listening to the sounds that were so very different from my island. And what occurred to me was that not only did I love Marigold, but I loved the people there even more.
And I missed them greatly. I found a rock to perch myself on as I thought about what Mimi had said about Grandma Cecilia.
Was it true? Had she actually wanted to share her poetry with the public? The thought made me sad if she had wanted to do so but didn’t have the courage. Or maybe it was the fault of our society, where we valued everyone’s opinions to the point of dampening the creators’ spirit?
Rejection was tough. People’s opinions could be rough. But the truth was that for every person who wanted to say something negative, there were ten times as many who were supportive.
I’d always found that the people who felt the need to pick apart art or scream from the top of their lungs that they didn’t like something were often lacking themselves. It was like the first and hopefully only one-star rating on Mae’s little coffee shop.
The person complained that my sister only offered coconut macaroons instead of chocolate-covered coconut macaroons. But my initial thought when I read the review washell… At least my sister’s waking up in the morning and making the macaroons. The same couldn’t be said for the person leaving the review.
And honestly, seeing that review gave me the confidence I needed to come here because even if some people didn’t like my poetry, maybe some others would. So what if I didn’t dip my poems in chocolate? Go find someone who did.
That seed of rejection was also what stopped me from letting myself believe in Lucas and me. All this stuff was tied together into a perfect bow of imperfection that allowed me to understand that it was okay to find the people who appreciated me, and I was beyond grateful that Lucas was one of them.
I stretched toward the cloudless sky and yawned again, knowing I had to get some sleep or I might mention to Ethan that spit was not hair gel and then I’d be the person complaining about plain macaroons.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lucas
