Page 83 of The Summer Swap

“I would for a start. You enjoy it, don’t you?”

“Decorating? Yes. It’s satisfying.” Just how satisfying had surprised her. It wasn’t something she’d ever entertained doing before.

“More satisfying than medicine?”

“For me, yes.” But her mind was on what he’d said a few moments before. About decorating giving her an income. Why hadn’t she thought of that? Maybe this was a way to find artistic satisfaction, while still earning a living. And if she was earning a living doing something she enjoyed, surely her parents might feel proud of her?

He wiped his hands on his shorts. “Sit down. Time for a break.”

“I can’t let the paint dry on my brush.”

“Fine. Clean your brush, and then take a break. Unlike the rest of your life, there is no pressure here. We will do what needs to be done. We don’t have to kill ourselves to get it done in the shortest possible time. No one is going to die if we haven’t finished the place by next week.”

She wanted to feel that way. She would have given anything to feel that way.

“I wish I could be as relaxed as you, but no matter how hard I try I just can’t.”

He crossed the room and removed the paintbrush from her fingers. “Only you would see being relaxed as something you need to try hard at. If you want to relax, you start by easing up on yourself. By deciding that you don’t always have to push yourself to your limits.”

She wished he wasn’t standing quite so close to her. “I’ve always been this way.”

“Why? You were born a perfectionist?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” She’d never really thought about it. Just accepted it as being who she was. Her personality. “The consequences of not being the best version of myself have always scared me.”

“Consequences?”

“Fail an exam and you’ve missed an opportunity. My parents worked hard to give me those opportunities, and I’ve always felt I had to make the most of them. Not just because I didn’t want to disappoint them, but also because deep down I felt that it was how my life should be. Work hard and pass this exam, and that exam, and then your whole life will come together. Fail, and it’s over.” She hadn’t realized how much of that pressure she still had stored inside her. She’d been afraid to ever let it out. Afraid of letting her guard down even for a moment, in case revealing her true self stopped her from being the person she was pretending to be. But she’d shared her feelings with Cecilia, and now she was sharing them with Todd. “I suppose I felt that if I didn’t fulfill my potential, if I slipped, if I failed, I would have lost my chance to live my best life. I would have let not just my parents down, but myself.”

Todd was still holding the brush, but his gaze was fixed on her face.

“That’s a lot of pressure you’re piling on yourself there, Lily.”

“I know.”

“And when you were doing all that, working that hard at something you didn’t love, did it feel as if you were living your best life? Were you happy?”

“No.” She didn’t even have to think about it, and it occurred to her that these past few days had been the happiest she could remember, and not simply because she was with Todd.

Her work had transformed the cottage, and witnessing that transformation was more satisfying than she could have imagined. She was making a difference. Surroundings could affect the emotions, and she was determined that by the time she and Todd had finished, Cecilia’s emotions would be positive ones.

She took the brush from him, quickly finished the section of wall that still needed to be painted and then stopped.

“There. Done. And no more talking about my boring problems. Are you hungry?” She walked to the kitchen, washed her hands and then opened the fridge. Scanning the contents for a moment, she pulled out some cold chicken and salad items.

“Starving. I could eat a camel. And you’re never boring, Lily.”

She felt her cheeks warm. “I’ve checked the fridge and we’re fresh out of camel, but would a chicken salad work?”

“It would work. What can I do?”

“Grab some plates. Forks.” She worked quickly, rinsing, chopping, throwing everything into one of the large bowls that Cecilia kept on display. She made a dressing, added chopped chicken to the salad and took it onto the porch.

“I ache all over. Even this dish feels heavy.”

“I know what you mean. This looks great, thanks.” He served her first and then himself and ate hungrily, diving into the salad and pausing only to break off a thick chunk of bread from the Italian loaf she’d put in the center of the table. “How is the master bedroom coming along? When are you going to let me see it?”

“When it’s finished. I’m nearly there. Finished the walls and all the decorating, but I’m waiting for the new bedding to arrive.” She pierced a piece of chicken. “I hope your grandmother will love it. It looks like a totally different room to me, but I don’t suppose that means she will want to sleep in there.”

---