Savage Souvenirs

Chapter 1 It was still and quiet. For once Becky Olson was glad to be alone. She was sitting in the Rose Hollow recreation center, staring at the blank canvas before her. She had just taught a painting class, and now she was trying to do something else. She used to love to paint, but now it felt as if she just couldn’t. She had been sitting in front of this canvas for the better part of an hour. She wasn't even listening to the playlist she had made for painting. She didn't need distractions. Everything was a distraction. On the counter behind her, Celia crawled from her bed over to the sink. She thought she needed to expand her cat's horizons and had begun bringing her to classes. It was just her and her cat. Becky knew that soon she would have to meet her friends for dinner, and now was wondering if she should cancel on them. If she did, they would find her. Her friends were good at finding people. Becky exhaled. "You're overreacting," she told herself, speaking out loud because she was totally alone. "Just paint something. Anything. It doesn't matter." She picked up her paintbrush, and then put it back down again. Even if it didn't matter, it felt like it did. She wasn't even sure what she wanted to say, and wasn't that what art was supposed to do? Say something? Becky pulled her phone from her back pocket and sent a text to her friends. She would remain in the recreation center for as long as it took. Or until eleven o'clock. That was when the rec center closed, officially. She had three and a half hours left to really begin something. She hummed to herself as she stepped back from the canvas. Sometimes she had to look at the big picture. She didn't want to paint mountain scenes, still life bowls of apples, or portraits. She didn't want to paint any of the generic painting things. Which left her with almost nothing. It had been a slow day. She owned an antique store in town that was getting less attention. It was March dashing into April and her store was seeing fewer customers. She wasn't in danger of losing it or anything, not yet, but she was sure that she would have to do something to fix it. She had spent the day staring at the computer and pandering to the three customers who had managed to wonder into her store. But instead, she was spending her time painting. It didn't seem like a bad way to spend her time. She sat back down and picked up her paintbrush. There were too many decisions that she had to make. She dipped the bristles in blue, and then washed it off. That particular shade of blue was too bright, too electric. She wanted something smoother. She began with a pastel pink, letting her hand guide her less than her thoughts. She needed to relax. The last couple of weeks had been so stressful. This was her version of stress relief. She exhaled as she stepped back to assess the damage. She was too in her thoughts, too in her head. "Hey." The voice made her jump, and she turned. She was staring directly at Declan Walsh, car mechanic, Irish expat, and Becky's somewhat boyfriend. He was clutching a brown bag. "Emily was worried." "So she sent you," Becky said. Emily was her mother, who was having an extended vacation in Rose Hollow. She worried easily, Emily Olson. Even though Becky was sure she wouldn't run into any danger that day. "Funnily enough, yes," Declan explained. Emily famously didn't like Declan. "I think she's busy tonight. She just needed to make sure you were still alive here." Becky rolled her eyes. Her mother was right to be worried. "Well, we were supposed to meet everyone, but I cancelled," Becky said. They both preferred to be alone anyway. She liked spending time with her friends in the messy, busy Minnie's Diner, which was their preferred hang out spot, but her friends could be a lot to handle. She got up, put her paintbrush down and washed her hands. "But I'm not leaving until this place closes." "I don't expect anything less from you, Beck," Declan said. He was watching her every move as she wiped her hands on a spare paper towel, then on her jeans. "I just don't know what I want to do with this," Becky said. Staring at the canvas from a few feet away, she could see the pale pink she had chosen was the wrong color. She looked towards him and exhaled. "This isn't even anything special. I just want to paint but I can't." "You need to step away from the canvas," Declan said. She considered this. He was right, even though she suspected he knew nothing about art. "I need to get some sleep," Becky said. "And I need to just relax. It's just been so long since I've done a painting that wasn't me teaching something or a commission." She had gotten a couple of commissions since the word that she could paint had gotten out. Like everything in Rose Hollow, that news had spread like a wild fire, and a couple of people from the town's richer half had wanted something from her. It was weird to think about, that her art was hanging in the living room, or a guest room, or the hallway of some big house she knew that she would never be able to afford. She swallowed. "I'm chill." Declan leaned over, kissing her forehead. "You know I don't believe you,” he said. Becky wrinkled her nose. She had tried to make it as convincing as she could, but he saw right through her. "I know," Becky said. Her stomach growled. "I'm going to try to relax. How about that?" That was fair. "That's all I can ask of you, Beck," Declan said. She stared at the canvas. "How about you sit and I paint you?" Becky said, raising an eyebrow. There was no way he was going to agree to that. She was sure of it, until he nodded. "Okay," he offered. "You're serious?" Becky asked. "Why not?" Declan asked. He began to remove his coat. "Where do you want me?" Becky wrinkled her nose, but pointed to a chair that was standing in the middle of the room. "Over there." She took the brown bag from him and shoved some fries into her mouth. She did not want to paint a portrait, but maybe she had to. ”You know, I think the stress of the store is getting to me," Becky said. "I just keep thinking that my aunt would be able to do better, that this wouldn't happen to her. But I have no way of knowing that." "She gave you the place," Declan said in his calm, rolling Irish voice. "That means she trusted you. That means she left her place in good hands." Becky nodded, seating herself at the canvas. She would be able to repaint over the light pink she had used, which had nearly dried in lumpy streaks. She picked up her paintbrush. "I guess you're right. I just think about her coming back and seeing this place the way it is now, and wow. It is not great," Becky said. "You're going to have to stop moving now." This was the first time she had gotten this intimate with someone she was seeing. Becky had never painted any of her pervious boyfriends, nor did she want to. "I'm not moving," Declan said. "Oh, then don't start," Becky said. She exhaled, dipping her paintbrush into the paint and held her breath. She had to take the pressure off. It was fine if this wasn't perfect, or even very good. She needed to let herself have fun. And it would be good. She was a good artist. She had spent so much of her life committed to making sure she was a good artist. "Tell me about your day," Becky said. "There wasn't much to it. A few cars broke down, and then I fixed them," Declan said. He was the type to really enjoy working with his hands, something Becky only barely understood. She had to lean to the side of the canvas to see him completely and it was as if some type of glass plane separated them even though they were a few feet from each other. She began to paint, again letting her hand guide her actions, letting her brain take a step back. It never helped to think too much. This was exactly what she needed. She had never really spent time in the diner in the middle of the day, but there she was, sitting at the bar of Minnie's Diner in the middle of the day. It was so strangely empty that Becky had changed the song on the jukebox three times with no one to protest her choices. "Your choices are terrible," Rachel Davis said. Rachel was one of Becky's best friends in all of Rose Hollow. She was cleaning menus, wiping them off with a damp cloth. "They're good choices," Becky protested. "No," Rachel said, "you have a terrible taste in music." Becky rolled her eyes. She was often teased about her so-called terrible taste in music, but she didn't mind. "Slow day again today?" Rachel asked. Becky nodded. Rachel leaned on the counter. She had the look on her face that told Becky that she was about to gossip. Rachel was a gifted baker with a penchant for gossip, and working as a waitress at Minnie's Diner put her in the perfect spot to overhear gossip. Most of the things she told Becky were not relevant, but she had come in with vital information at crucial times. Becky had quickly learned to respect Rachel's talents. "So, I heard that you and Declan closed out the rec center last night," Rachel said. "We did, but not like that," Becky said. "Also, how did you hear about that?" "Emily," Rachel said. "She said she heard from Mickey. How is that going, anyway?" Mickey Dunner was Becky's next-door neighbor, and a sort of surrogate mother. They had been forced to rethink their relationship with Emily in town, and Mickey and Emily were in the middle of a year’s long feud. "Better, I think. I can never tell," Becky said. "Do you want a milkshake?" Rachel asked. "I'm bored." "I'd love one. And some of that cherry pie? Please?" Becky asked with a smile. Rachel nodded and pulled herself away from the counter. If there was any way to spend a slow day it was at Minnie's Diner. Her own store was two minutes away and if anyone needed her, she could be there right away. "I'm painting him," Becky said. "Oh, I wasn't aware we suddenly landed in the 1800s," Rachel teased. "Ha ha, very funny," Becky said. "It's just a way to paint something. I can paint you next." Rachel paused. "You know, I would like that," she said. "It would be so weird to have a painted version of myself, but yeah. I would like that." She placed a plate with the promised cherry pie on the counter in front of Becky. Out of all the wild and strange combinations Rachel managed to make, this simple cherry pie was Becky's favorite. She picked up the fork. "It's not weird or anything," Becky said, "but you're going to have to stay completely still for extended periods of time." Rachel turned and placed a glass next to the plate. "Then count me out," Rachel said. She was always moving, always fidgeting. Even now she was bouncing on the balls of her feet. "It's impossible to stay still." Becky smiled. It was rare that she and Rachel got to spend any time alone, but it seemed that the middle of the day where everyone else was at work was perfect. "Says you," Becky teased. "Hey, I'm the girl giving you food. You have to be nice to that girl," Rachel said. "Anyways, do you have any updates on the Emily thing?" "I don't have any updates on the Emily thing," Becky said. Rachel raised an eyebrow. She had walked right into that one. She had only mentioned it because she had updates on the Emily thing. "This is first hand, too," Rachel said, raising an eyebrow. “I was with Catherine a few nights ago, yeah, and we were walking around, and we totally saw Emily and the Mayor together." "Talking?" Becky asked. Rachel widened her eyes and shook her head. She didn't ask another question. Becky didn't want to know the answer. Everyone in Becky's friend group suspected that her mother was dating the mayor, Gavin Masters. Becky had asked several times, point blank, but Emily had not said anything either way each time. It wasn't as if Becky was really dying to know what was going on her mother’s love life, anyway. She really didn't want to know. Rachel, however, was loving all of these developments. "What if they get married? A big spring wedding. I would love a spring wedding." She paused for a moment, probably picturing her own spring wedding. "Well, that will never happen as long as the mayor is the mayor. Are we forgetting that Emily hates Rose Hollow?" That was true. While Becky loved the little town and all it had to offer, Emily had left at eighteen and hoped to never return. It was a surprise to both Olson women when Emily showed up at Becky's store. "Well, feelings change, Becky. Come on. Maybe she wants to stay here forever," Rachel said. She was sweet, but a little bit naïve. She didn't think Rachel really believed that. "Right," Becky said. "Can we be done talking about my mother’s love life now?" She knew that Emily would hate to know that they were sitting around talking about her. But they didn't have anything else to do, really. The song on the jukebox changed and Becky fished another quarter from her pocket. She quickly got up to change it. "Terrible choice," Rachel called as an Elvis song started up. Becky rolled her eyes and made her way back to the counter. She liked when the diner was empty and it was just her and Rachel. She was sure that there were people in the kitchens, but that didn't matter. They were basically alone. "So, Jeremy wants to take me away this weekend. There's a band we really like playing in Portland. We'd leave Friday and get back Monday," Rachel announced. "Sounds romantic," Becky said. "I don't know," Rachel said. She was staring at the counter. "I really like him, but I don't know. I don't know." "Listen, if you need an out, I'm cleaning the store this weekend, and I need someone to help LJ and me," Becky said. Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I'll clean some old crap," Rachel said. Becky raised an eyebrow. She didn't ask why Rachel was not jumping at the chance to spend time with her boyfriend. But it didn't matter. If Rachel wanted to say it, eventually she would. "Oh, I'm gonna send you home with some of this," Rachel said. It was so great to have a friend who was a talented baker. She knew that she should be getting back to her own store. She had killed enough time sitting at the diner's counter, talking to Rachel. She had her assistant, Lucy "LJ" Jennings, at the store and she couldn't leave her alone for too long. "I don't want to go," Becky whined. She sounded like a five-year-old. "But you have to," Rachel said. "Listen, I'll come over tonight. We'll make it a thing. We'll get dinner or whatever." Becky nodded, tossing her debit card onto the counter. Rachel rang her up and put two square boxes on the counter. "Cherry, and chocolate cherry swirl," Rachel said with a nod. She fought back a smile and Becky picked up the boxes. Rachel was constantly spoiling her in the best way possible: with baked good. "I'll see you later, then," Becky said. She was still lingering, trying to kill more time before she left the diner. "Go," Rachel said. "Fine, mom," Becky teased and pulled herself up from the counter, and then picked up the boxes. It was a two-minute walk from Carnegie’s Antiques to Minnie's Diner, on account of Becky's store was never meant to be a house, really, but it had been converted. She made the walk in record time and pushed open the door. LJ was on the phone, talking quickly and quietly. "Yeah..." she trailed off, nodding at Becky. She got up, still on the phone, and she took the top box. "Don't eat it all," Becky whispered. She didn't know if LJ heard her as she disappeared into the kitchen. She looked around. The trail of slow days was starting to get to her. She wondered what had happened. It used to be a steady stream of locals and visitors, and it was a great way to get to know people. She stared at the glass window that showed her Main Street. People were passing, going on with their days. Maybe she needed another sale or something. "No one has come in," LJ said. She was off the phone now, and eating the cherry pie directly from the tin. "I know," Becky said with a sigh. "I know."