Baker - G. BLYTHE

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-ˋˏ *.·:·. [SIX MONTHS AFTER THE TRAIN GOODBYE] .·:·.* ˎˊ-

CHARLOTTE RAYHILL HAD BEEN AT ART SCHOOL FOR SIX MONTHS and she absolutely loved every single second of the paint-filled whirlwind. She learned, adapted and her art was only better for it. Her happiness also increased because of it, spending so much time with Cole and her new friends could also have something to do with it. She had missed Cole dearly, every single minute of life in Avonlea, but not as much as she missed a certain love in her life. The love that currently lay in Toronto, studying a subject he was ever so fascinated about. She quite frankly loved the letters from him, especially the ones that talked about how much fun he was having over there.

With every class, more and more pressure to produce a piece for the looming art show was pressed upon the girl. Since she had to travel so much, Charlotte rarely had the time to pick up her paints outside of class. She sketched and drew (her art nothing compared to Cole's) but rarely painted. Charlotte missed the feeling of her own brushes and the freedom that came with her own artwork, unguided by the teacher that she had grown to love so dearly. So when the opportunity to go home for a week came along - due to a leak in one of the art studios - she rather excitedly jumped on the train with her Brother (silly chaperone laws).

Charlotte locked herself in her room for days on end, eating Mothers cooking as she crafted a masterpiece that (she thought) would be fit for any gallery. She painted a young girl on a rope swing, pushed by her Father as butterflies and flower petals flew in the wind. She used depth and shadowing to make the memory come to life and, by the time she was finished, Charlotte really didn't want to part with it. She loved every single aspect that had been taken into such detail that she often fell asleep at her easel, having to be woken up by a laughing but concerned Rían. But she took that painting back on the train, showed her teacher and didn't let anyone else see it until the day. Not even Cole -  even after he and Nathanial begged and tried to bribe her too.

The day of the art show arrived and Charlotte dressed (after much deliberation and discussion with her Mother) in sage green. Mother, Rían and Edward came on the journey with her - eager to see Charlotte's success. She pinched the skin on her finger until it turned purple, her cheeks bitten with worry and nerves. The Rayhills - and their honourary member - walked into the hall and immediately became transfixed with all the different art pieces. They walked around, looking at each piece and meeting Charlotte's arty friends. They lingered a little longer than usual on Cole's piece, taking in the entire glorious clay piece that would depict something different for every person. He was clever like that. Then finally, they got to the piece that had the largest crowd. 'By Charlotte Rayhill' sat beneath the painting, imprinted on a grey clay slab.

"This is yours?" Rían asked, looking at the piece in disbelief. He knew she could paint but never thought it would be this good, especially since she was only a first-year student. A natural talent indeed. Charlotte hummed in agreement, pinching her finger as she looked around at all the faces.

"It's splendid Flower," her Mother smiled, hugging her daughter around her shoulders. "Truly, your Father would be so proud."

Charlotte's smile grew a little less nervous and a little more prideful. That prideful smile grew even more when Cole and Nathanial started to pepper her with questions about the piece, questions she was more than happy to answer.

After ten minutes of just staring at her work, Rían moved away from Edward and over to his sister. "I've got you a present," he smiled, hiding something behind his back. She turned her full attention to him and watched in delight as he pulled out a small sprig of flowers. The congratulatory flowers.

She smiled a little brighter, "Go raibh maith agat." (thank you) Rían smiled and tucked the sprig into her updo. She laughed to herself, touched the sprig with her fingertips then went back to watching everyone take in her art. It truly was a sight to see, a sight that she would not get sick of any time soon.