I pause, slowly chewing the crisp, sweet apple, a little surprised. She hasn’t asked about it in a while, and I kind of thought she’d forgotten. But I feel fine with her bringing it up now. “Of course.”
She shakes her head. “I know you love’d it, but man, it’s so expensive.”
I take another bite of my apple, letting her words sink in. She’s not wrong. “I’ll worry about that after I see it.”
I could hate the house. I've only seen pictures online and know how airbrushed and staged they usually are. Plus, it’s hard to let myself think it’s real sometimes. I can barely afford lunch, but that’s the point. Every penny I save now is one less reason I can’tbuy the house later. I keep telling myself it’s worth it… cutting corners, living with my brother, selling my paintings, skipping fancy meals I actually want. But it’s hard to ignore the gap between where I am and where I want to be. It feels like a dream, but if I keep working and saving, I’ll get there.
I’m making sacrifices now, because this house is more than just a place to live. It’s the future I want. And somehow, even though it feels like a stretch, it’s the one thing that keeps me going.
“What did you decide to draw today?” I ask to change the subject.
She gives me a knowing look. “The hospital.”
I smile. “Manifesting.”
“Exactly. When I finish both of my studies, I’ll be the best doctor that hospital’s ever seen. They won’t say no when I apply.”
She’s studying to be a doctor, but she’s also an artist. Although she has scholarships to cover her college tuition, she still finds time to hone her craft by taking classes with me. We’re like-minded in that when we set our minds to something, we do what we can to achieve it, knowing we’ve been through worse obstacles.
“No one can say no to you anyway.” I giggle.
“True,” she says. “What did you draw?”
“A giant peony. Surprised?” I smile around my cup of tea as I sip it, waiting for her reaction.
She smirks. “Not at all, but I’m excited to see it.”
“Are you staying after lunch to paint the hospital?”
“Yeah, I’ve got time before I head home to study,” she says, shifting in her chair.
“Good. I want to paint too.” Smiling, I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
She glances at her phone. “Don’t you have work?”
“Not until five.”
“Okay, let’s hope it doesn’t take that long to paint.”
“It won't.” I glance at my watch. If we leave now, we should have plenty of time. “We better head back.”
She nods, grabbing our garbage to throw it away as we exit the room.
Inside the art room, the familiar smell of paint fills the air. The space feels like a second home, with walls lined with student work, sketches, unfinished canvases and a few bold splashes of color. The light from the windows reflects off the wooden easels and scattered art supplies.
While waiting for the next lesson, I set my purse down to finish my line work. When it’s time to set up my paints and easel, Mrs. Bennett comes over to check on us, giving me a soft smile. “What color flower are you painting today?”
I return her smile, a little spark of excitement bubbling up. “Pink.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” she says, moving on to Evelyn’s work.
I’m known for my nature paintings, something that started when I was young. When things were tough at home, I’d escape to the garden. Flowers were my hideout. My foster parents had a garden too, and when they found out I loved flowers, they expanded it. The garden grew with me. Even now, I make a point to visit their garden whenever I go to see them. And when I buy my own place, I want a large garden.
I get so lost in painting the soft pink and white peony that when Evelyn walks over and gasps, it makes me sit back to admire my finished work.
My head feels heavy and my knuckles ache, but gosh, it’s worth it.
“That’s incredible,” Mrs Bennett says, coming over.
