A Brush of Blue

Chapter 17: Portraits of the Past

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, amber glow over Blue Haven as Selah stood outside the local gallery, nervously smoothing her hands over her blouse. Autumn had settled in, and with it, the weather had cooled considerably, bringing a fresh crispness to the seaside air. The town, too, had quieted, the last of the tourists long gone, leaving only the familiar locals wrapped in scarves and jackets. Blue Haven had been her refuge, a place that cradled her through the worst of her grief. But today, the solitude she normally found comforting now felt tinged with nervous anticipation. She was about to meet with Meredith, the head of the local art committee and a renowned art director, to discuss the possibility of sharing her work publicly for the first time.

She took a slow, steadying breath, her hands smoothing over the front of her blouse as she glanced at the gallery door. It stood before her like a portal to something she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for—a new chapter that both thrilled and terrified her. Ever since Lorraine had mentioned introducing her to Meredith, Selah had felt the weight of this moment pressing against her. She hadn't dreamed of displaying her art since Grace's death, hadn't even allowed herself to consider it, and yet, here she was. It was daunting, to say the least, but the promise of a new beginning was hard to resist.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she quickly glanced at the screen. Naomi had sent her a flurry of encouraging texts that morning, filling her with warmth and grounding her nerves. They had grown so close over the past few months, sharing pieces of themselves they had kept hidden from others. Today, it felt like she was carrying a part of Naomi's strength with her. She typed out a quick response, grateful for her encouragement, before tucking her phone away.

A familiar voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present.

"Selah!" Lorraine called out, striding up the street with her usual lively energy.

Beside her was Meredith, a tall, composed woman with silver hair pulled back into a neat twist and an air of quiet authority that radiated confidence. She had an air of elegance, from her understated jewelry to her tailored jacket, and even from a distance, Selah could tell Meredith was someone who didn't need to speak loudly to command attention.

"Sorry we're a little late," Lorraine said with a wink, pulling Selah into a warm hug. "Meredith was busy wrangling an artist for our upcoming fall show."

"Nice to meet you, Selah," Meredith said, extending her hand with a welcoming smile. "Lorraine has been raving about your work."

"Thank you," Selah replied, feeling her nerves bubble up again as she shook Meredith's hand.

"Well," Meredith said, motioning toward the gallery entrance, "shall we? I've been looking forward to seeing your work in person."

Selah smiled, though she could feel her heart racing. "I hope they live up to the hype," she said, her voice quiet but genuine.

They stepped inside the gallery, the cool air conditioning a sharp contrast to the warmth outside. The space was quiet, with only the soft hum of the air and the occasional echo of footsteps on the polished wooden floor. Sunlight filtered through the large windows, casting a golden glow over the white walls adorned with various art pieces. Selah had brought several of her recent works, mostly landscapes of Blue Haven—the muted blues and grays of the ocean, the warm, amber tones of the evening sky. But among them were also more personal paintings, the ones born from her grief over losing Grace. These paintings were less about the physical world and more about the emotional landscape she had been navigating—abstract shapes and colors that spoke to the depth of her pain, love, and eventual healing.

Meredith moved slowly, taking her time with each painting, studying them in thoughtful silence. Lorraine stood beside Selah, offering a reassuring smile every now and then, but Selah's nerves still hummed beneath the surface. She had never shown her work in such a setting before, and the vulnerability of it all was hitting her harder than she had expected.