Fly Away Home

Chapter 11

Bribery is still an effective tactic when attempting to persuade a teenager. The promise of a fully caffeinated beverage from the coffee shop on Main Street awaits my niece. The only condition is for her to help me with the plumbing repair. Lizzie ups the ante as only a determined young woman can, negotiating a visit to the bridge this afternoon. She insists it will be her next masterpiece. I can't deny her an opportunity to pursue something she's so passionate about.

Usually an early riser, I'm surprised what I see after stumbling into the kitchen. Lizzie is sitting at the table, drawing a carefully assembled pyramid of lemons in her notebook. "Hey, kiddo. How did you sleep?"

"Good." Her response emerges subconsciously as she focuses on the texture of the zesty skin.

My automatic tendencies kick into gear too. Without looking, I grab the carafe to fill it with water. It feels heavy. It's then I notice a fresh pot of morning inspiration has already been brewed. My favorite mug sits empty next to it, waiting for a pour. Is it the promise of coffee or a visit to the bridge that motivates Lizzie? Based on the cooling cup beside her, I know which one holds the mightier power of persuasion.

She looks toward me as I take a seat at the table. "Are you ready to get started? I have the tools already pulled out on the porch." She gathers up her art supplies and slides the notebook with its drying pages alongside the pile of fruit.

"I need my daily cup of liquid enthusiasm first, but I promise we'll visit the bridge later." I guess at the reason for Lizzie's excitement. The spontaneous grin on her face proves my assumption right. "I'm impressed how you're able to capture the texture of those lemons so beautifully. And with only a single color and some water. How do you do that?"

"I don't know. It just happens. I used to spend a lot of time trying to find the perfect mixture for each shade. I took so long that I never finished painting anything. So, I started going with the flow and letting things happen. It's more fun that way."

I grin and bite my tongue, not wanting to spoil the innocence of youth. Allowing the currents of life to guide you is okay at certain times. But it's also important to understand with clarity where you're headed. That's what I'm in the middle of trying to figure out. Even if it was an impulsive decision, my presence here in Pigeon Grove is a perfect example. Things have changed since I've arrived, but my new life is a delicate balance of order and spontaneity. "Do you have a favorite color?"

"Orange." She responds without a moment of hesitation.

"Does that have anything to do with the number of oranges you've painted?" It's my attempt at a playful joke, but Lizzie appears contemplative, as if she's never thought about it.

"I don't think so. I've always wanted to paint a sunset. With all those different shades of orange. I'm pretty sure that's where it comes from." She pulls her tray of paints back toward her, studying the mixture of red and yellow hues.

I remember trying to decide on a color for the walls in my bedroom. I never would have chosen the pumpkin curry shade, but its symbolism tempted me. It represents new ideas, a release of limitations, and the freedom to be yourself. I'm probably overthinking things, but I can see why Lizzie is drawn toward that color.

After sipping the last few drops of coffee, I place my mug on the counter. I slyly retrieve my cheat sheet stowed in the drawer.

"What's that?"

"They're steps that Mr. Turner shared with me. So we know what to do. And in what order we should do them. I've never undertaken anything this ambitious before. So, it's a good idea to understand what's supposed to happen before plowing headlong into it." I'm speaking in an adult language that younger ones often tune out.