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“Did I scare you?”
She bites her lip and glances up at me from over her shoulder. “I don’t mind being scared like that.”
“What are you working on?”
“Well…” She tilts her head to the side while looking down at her drawing pad, her pale eyebrows drawn together. “I’m trying to come up with children’s items. But it’s difficult designing something that doesn’t appear… I don’t know? Too religious or too childish or too… tacky.”
I nod. “You’d think it would be easy, but children’s jewellery has to appeal both to the child and the parents. Let me see whatyou’ve got.”
The familiar scent of strawberries surrounds me as I lean over her, flicking through her sketches. I explain which ones could work and why others will not. I also grab her pencil and make some suggested changes.
“I never see you with a pencil – don’t you design anymore?” she asks after a while, looking at me from the corner of her eye.
“You don’t see me with a pencil because I use the design programme on my laptop.”
“Oh.” She glances over at the black screen of her laptop and bites her lip. Caitlin hasn’t mastered the software yet. She likes to be a bit more hands-on with a pencil.
“You don’t like technology, do you? I hardly ever see you with your phone even. Most people your age are glued to their screens.”
“I don’t like using my phone.” Her throat bobs and her tone is quiet. “The internet isn’t always a friendly place.”
“Someone been mean to you on social media?”
Caitlin bites her lip and studies her hands that have dropped to her lap. “I guess.”
Cool air fills my lungs as I take a big inhale, but it does nothing to quell the anger searing through me. “Girls in school?”
She shakes her head lightly and whispers, “Girls in church.”
The need to protect her is almost overwhelming. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “They’re only voicing their own insecurities. Their bullying is all about them and not you.”
“I guess.” Her breath is shaky. “So, you design on your laptop?”
I let her change the topic, but I can’t wait until the next time I’m at her church.
“I do, but to be honest, I don’t really design anymore,” Iadmit. “Admin takes up a lot of time and I… I lost the creative passion at some point. The pieces we were focusing on became all so… sameish. Working with the camera for promo shoots gives me more artistic satisfaction these days.”
I swallow tightly. Truth is, Finbar has stumped out my creative energy with his bulldozer behaviour. I used to think of myself as an artist, but it’s a while since I felt that way.
“That’s such a shame.” Caitlin taps her book where I’ve re-worked one of her ideas. “You clearly still have so much to give. Maybeyoushould design a children’s range?”
“I don’t even have kids.” I laugh, but a spark has been lit in my belly, kindled by her praise.
“Do you want kids?”
“I’d love to have kids,” is my immediate response, a bit taken aback by her direct question. Although I asked her the same thing at the charity event.
“Why don’t you have any?” She prods, her brows raised while now scrutinising me.
“As a man, it’s difficult on your own,” I deadpan.
“Duh…” She rolls her eyes like a normal teenager. “I mean, I know you’ve had girlfriends.”
I turn to lean against her desk and cross my legs in front of me.
“Yeah, but it needs to be therightgirlfriend, and that’s not that easy to find.”
“I remember Rosemarie. I was so jealous of her.”
