Larkspur Dreams - By Anita Higman Page 0,10

Her friend had her hair down in dainty curls, with a few tiny braids on the sides. She had always admired Calli’s tall stature, her rich, cocoa brown complexion, and almond-shaped, brown eyes. She wondered if her friend wouldn’t mind posing for her someday. She’d make a great model. Lark tuned back into the conversation as Calli chatted about all the ways not to make snow ice cream. They clomped down the stairs together, chuckling.

After breakfast and a few hours of much needed girl talk, they settled back into the loft. Calli sat in the purple beanbag chair to peruse Lark’s newest picture book, In a Giddy Pickle. “This is so incredible. You know, Nissa is a great writer, but your illustrations make the book. And this cover. . .so whimsical and beautiful. Kids are going to love it. Congratulations.”

Lark smiled. “Thanks.”

“I guess you’ll have some book signings again.” Calli tried to get up from the chair and fell back down. They both laughed.

Lark reached out her hand to help her friend up. “My publisher has set up quite a few over the next several months. It should be fun meeting the kids and their parents. I hope you’ll come to one of them.”

“I always do,” Calli said. “So has this new publisher hired you for another project? They should.”

“Not yet. But it’s okay.” Lark fiddled with one of her camel-hair brushes, making pats on her palm, pretending it was a butterfly. “I’m enjoying the break.” Lark took a few mini packets of jellybeans out of her big bowl and tossed them to Calli.

“Ohh, yeah. Armed and dangerous.” Calli popped a jellybean in her mouth. Then she strolled around Lark’s studio and studied her paintings on the wall. “Your oils have gotten even better than the last time I was here. So much more depth and emotion. You are remarkable.”

“Thank you.” Lark fidgeted with her art supplies, moving her gesso and mineral spirits around from one spot to another. Watching her friend, Lark wondered why she felt so uncomfortable when people observed her artwork.

Calli milled around the other side of her studio and stopped to gaze at a still life of pears and yellow roses and then one of a Victorian village. “Now why is it you haven’t shown these to anyone? There are so many terrific galleries here.”

Lark shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“But that’s what you told me last year. What’s going on?”

“Guess I’m still not ready.” Lark felt uncomfortable talking about her work beyond illustrating.

“Oh, boy. I know that’s not this ladybug talking,” Calli said, doing a little lasso gesture with her finger. “You are indomitable, girl. Why? Because God is with you, and He’s given you an amazing gift here that He expects you to share. And I don’t just mean your illustrations.” She raised an eyebrow. “Now do I hear an Amen, sister?”

“Amen.” Lark took her friend’s hand and squeezed it. “Okay. I’ll call one of the local galleries. . .sometime.”

Calli tapped her finger on her cheek.

Lark laughed. “Okay. I will call. . .soon. I promise.”

Calli took off her freshwater pearl bracelet and rolled it onto Lark’s wrist.

“What are you doing? I can’t accept this. It’s your favorite. Isn’t this the one you bought in one of the shops downtown?” Lark touched the bracelet, wondering if she should give it back. But she didn’t want to hurt her friend.

“Yes, but I want you to have it,” Calli said. “It looks good with your nightshirt.”

They both chuckled.

“And I want it to be a symbol of the pledge you just made to me. A reminder. Okay?” Calli lowered her gaze as if to add an extra helping of serious.

Lark nodded. “You’re the best.”

“Yeah. That’s what my customers keep telling me.”

“You are the best Realtor in Springdale.”

“Well, I guess I really like helping people find their dreams.”

Lark held up the new bracelet on her wrist. “I can tell.”

Calli glanced over at Everett’s office window. “So I guess this is the new neighbor you were talking about. What was his name again? Everest Molden?”

Lark laughed. “You’re close. Everett Holden.”

“Wow, look at that,” Calli said. “When he has his lights on, you can see everything he’s doing. I mean, your windows are so big and close, it’s like you’re both in a fish bowl. His profile is certainly impressive. Uh-oh. He’s glancing over at us.”

They both waved at Everett.

Calli whispered, “But when he smiles, it looks more like he’s lifting heavy furniture.”

❧

Everett’s office chair squawked in rebellion as he tilted it back.