Avery sighed.
“I wish I could tell you that they turned out perfectly, but the first day I bought the wrong paint, which I realized when I—too late—googled ‘how to paint IKEA shelves.’ I had to go back and return that paint and buy a different kind. And then I taped the shelves wrong and had to retape after I’d already started painting. That was messy. But after a few other fits and starts—and many, many trips back and forth to the hardware store—I did it, and I actually love the way they look now. They were just what I pictured in my head.”
Cat smiled at her.
“It sounds like they did turn out perfectly, then.”
Avery stopped what she was doing and looked at Cat.
“You know what? You might be right about that.”
Cat picked up a paintbrush.
“Amazing how it works out sometimes like that, isn’t it? I’m sort of a recovering perfectionist, and I’m trying to get rid of those tendencies—at least for the things where it’s okay to learn and play and mess up, you know what I mean? I can understand that you felt like it’s not perfect because you had bumps in the road. But I’m trying to embrace that imperfection along the way is part of any good process.”
Avery picked up her glass of wine—which already had paint on the outside of it—and held it up to Cat.
“That’s probably the most profound statement ever uttered inside of Let’s Paint! Cheers.”
Cat blushed but reached for their own glass.
“Thanks, also cheers to my therapist, who I got that from. But hey, cheers to me for going to her.”
Avery took another sip of her wine, and then looked down at her paintbrush.
“I also want to paint my apartment walls. I’ve been planning on it for a while. My landlord gave me permission and everything, but…”
“It seems like a big commitment?” Cat asked. “I get it.”
As Avery and Cat sipped and painted and talked, Taylor chatted away with the woman next to her. Dark brown skin, short hair, bright red lipstick, very beautiful. Avery wondered—not for the first time—what Taylor’s most recent ex looked like.
Not that it mattered. She was just curious.
Cat mixed a tiny bit of pink with some white paint, and then added one more drop of pink.
“Um,” they said, staring down at the paint. “How long ago was your breakup?”
It was funny that Avery had to think about it now.
“In the spring, although it feels like it was a lifetime ago. I think I mentally disengaged with him long before I actually broke up with him, so it didn’t take me that long to move past it, you know? Like, obviously things about it still affect me, but I feel like that’s the case with every breakup. I’m so much happier without him that I’ve never questioned the breakup for a second. What about you?”
Cat sighed.
“Six weeks ago. I wish—” They broke off and then looked up at Avery.
“I probably shouldn’t say this to someone I’m attracted to and am chatting with at a queer mixer and all, but I wish it had been easy for me like it’s been for you.”
Did she just say she was attracted to Avery? When she said “someone I’m attracted to,” she meant Avery, didn’t she? She must; she wasn’t talking to anyone else right now.
Avery straightened herself up. Of course she was! People wereattracted to her, even though it was hard for her to realize it. Taylor’s friend Callie! Taylor’s friend Liz! Taylor herself! And now Cat!
Cat, who was still talking about their breakup.
“The first few weeks I was…a mess, even though I knew it was the best decision for me. I’m doing a lot better now, which is why I’m here. I’ve been out a few times since the breakup—I mean, out on purpose, I work in wine, so sometimes work is going out, you know how it is.”
Avery nodded.
“I’m an event planner, I definitely do.”