Page 29 of Our Secret Summer

“You keep on surprising me,” Dylan said. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Too many things to mention,” Raffo replied. “I pretended Mom was helping me, guiding me through the dish. I think that’s why it tastes okay.”

“Do you get it from her? Your art?” Dylan popped another bite into her mouth and sent Raffo a gentle smile.

“Partly. My father can—or could, at least—draw really well. But my mom, she was the queen of color. She wasn’t a painter, but you should have seen how she looked. How she dressed. So bold. So gorgeous. She taught me to be unafraid of color. To embrace it. It wasn’t just in how she dressed or decorated our house. Every single meal she made was a feast of tasteandcolor.” It was entirely possible that Raffo remembered her mother as a touch too perfect, but that’s what happens when the better of two parents dies way too young.

“Do you have a picture of her?” Dylan asked.

“Of course.” Raffo looked around for her phone and realized, not for the first time, that she’d simply forgotten to keep it on her. She had no idea when she’d used it last. That was also what being in Big Bear did to her. She was more off the grid than she’d ever been, which was quite the achievement for a Millennial. Dylan probably had something to do with it as well. “Let me just find my phone. I’ll be right back.”

Raffo located her phone in the kitchen. It had been on silent and her heart leapt in her throat when she noticed she had three missed calls from Connor.

“Connor tried to call me.” Raffo rushed onto the deck in a panic.

“Did he leave a message?” Dylan’s posture went rigid in her chair—her shoulders square and her lips a tight line.

“He sent a text.” In her panic, Raffo hadn’t read the text yet. “Fuck, I hope he’s not on his way here or something like that.” Heart hammering in her chest, Raffo opened the message.

Call me asap. I have huge news. xo

Raffo showed it to Dylan. They both took a deep breath. It was all well and good to claim Connor had nothing to do with what was happening between them, until he called, and reminded them of his importance in both their lives.

“Do you want to call him?” Dylan asked.

“I should.” Raffo was curious what the huge news could be. She reached for her wine glass and downed a big gulp. She paced on the deck as she made the call.

“Oh my god, Raff. Are you sitting down?” Connor didn’t bother with any niceties.

“No, but tell me.” Raffo kept her back to Dylan so it was easier to pretend she wasn’t there.

“You know Over The Rainbow, the queer merch company?”

“Yeah.” It was hard to escape when you were queer. Their products were everywhere these days.

“They want to license your rainbow heart painting.” One of Raffo’s most famous—Connor liked to call it iconic—works was of a heart painted in the colors of the rainbow. It was simple—it had only taken a few days to create—but extremely effective.

“What does that mean?” Raffo asked.

“It means you’re going to be one rich lesbian painter. They want to put it on everything. Mugs. Pillows. Whatever you can think of. They’re not kidding around. They’re offering a substantial advance and a generous percentage on sales.”

Raffo didn’t know what to say. She’d never had an offer like this. She didn’t even know Connor was pursuing deals like this.

“When I say substantial, I mean half a million bucks, Raff. This is the big league. They are truly not fucking around. They want your work and they’re willing to pay the price.” Connor left a dramatic pause. “A price I expertly negotiated, I might add.”

“You’ve been talking to them for a while?”

“Yes, but I didn’t want to disturb your peace in Big Bear until I had an offer you couldn’t refuse. That’s why I’m your amazing gallerist-slash-agent-slash-best-friend-in-the-whole-wide-fucking-world.”

“Half a million? Are you sure?” Raffo’s hand was trembling, making her phone shake against her ear.

“I have it in writing. I’ll email it over as soon as we end this call so you can have a look at it. My lawyer is scrutinizing the offer as we speak.”

“My god, Con. What the hell is happening? First, a show in Chicago, and now this?”

“It’s your time, Raffo. It’s all coming together.” Connor sounded a little out of breath. He must be beside himself. “Can we set up a call for tomorrow to discuss this further?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.”

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