Vanilla

Chapter Twenty

            “What?” I asked, frowning. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

            “God, Flo,” she said. There was a strange expression painted across her features – one I couldn’t quite fathom. “You look so pretty.”

            I went to shrug off the compliment, but the feeling of Nora’s hands on my shoulders stopped me, and I realised she was steering me towards the mirror on the wardrobe door. I thought it was a bit strange – I’d only pulled on a dress, after all – but the moment my eyes landed on the reflection that blinked back at me, the reasoning behind Nora’s reaction became the slightest bit clearer.

            It was flattering, but even more than I’d thought so whilst it was on the hanger. Though I could definitely have lived with another couple of centimetres around the waist to breathe more comfortably, the fit was fine – even giving the illusion that I had slightly more boob than what may have been true. And even though the effect may not have been as striking as it was to Nora, I knew what she was talking about: with soft curls framing my freckled face, five-foot-eight above the ground in a delicate dress, I did feel… pretty.

            “Daniel won’t be able to take his eyes off you if you wear that,” she commented with a smirk.

            “Shut up,” I told her, but I was smiling too.

            There was a slight pause, and the way that Nora continued looking at me, an expression of knowing curling her lips at the edges, indicated that the tone of conversation was becoming more serious. “You really, really like him, don’t you?” she asked.

            It took a moment for the words to form on my lips; they’d been buzzing around in my head for so long the journey out was a delayed process. “Yeah,” I breathed eventually, it almost tasting sweet on my tongue. “I mean, I know I don’t really know anything, but… I think it could be it, you know?” I shook my head. “Maybe I’m just crazy. I don’t know.”

            “You’re not crazy.” Her voice was equally as quiet, the background noise of the room seeming to have dropped into negative figures. “I mean, looking at you two… you rarely see anything like it. The way you seem to get each other. I don’t think it’s so crazy at all.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah. You know, I never expected for you to be so… at home here in Walden. I was worried you’d have trouble settling in. But seeing you here now… well, it’s like it’s more your home than our flat ever was.”

            And though it hadn’t really occurred properly to me before, it did then. Nora was right; when I thought of our old apartment, in the smelly block whose stairs seemed to get steeper with every climb, just down the street from the multiplex cinema, it seemed years away. And, if I was back there, I knew I’d be forever yearning for the faint noise of the ocean from my window, the sleepy summer evenings spent effortlessly wandering around the town I’d come to know so well, and the friends like no other.

            I was here now. And, finally, I was home.

***

            Gram, it seemed, had turned into some sort of local celebrity overnight.

            I had guessed the opening of her exhibition would be big news amongst her circle of friends, but, as evident by the sight of the gallery when I stepped inside that evening, I had underestimated the diameter of said circle. What seemed like the entire population of Walden was crammed into the Picture Perfect gallery – and that was half an hour before the event’s official start. The news had spread like wildfire, meaning Nora and I had to elbow our way through a mildly dense throng before we could even get inside the door.