Page 21 of A Small Town Spring

“I’d settle for a real bed on a temporary basis while I sort myself out.”

“Jack and I would be happy to offer you one of our guest rooms for a while?—”

“Oh, god, I didn’t mean that.”As I interrupt him, my cheeks feel like they’re flaming.“You must think I’m a freeloader or something.”

“Hey, of course not.I know how it is after a breakup,” Pete says gently, because he’s the kindest man on the planet.“And we really wouldn’t mind.I know when I needed a place to stay after my disaster of an ex, Kingston offering me his place was a lifesaver.Wait—that’s perfect.”

The mention of Kingston has my face flushing for a different reason.“What’s perfect?”Besides Kingston’s face.And voice.And—never mind.

“Kingston’s house.You could stay there.He told me he’s not planning to come to Rosedale much in the first half of the summer so he can spend all of August here.So his house is completely free.I should have thought of it right away.It’s been a sanctuary to more than one of us over the years.”

“But I can’t just invite myself to live in his home,” I say, the idea of being in Kingston’s space, even if he isn’t there, sending me into a curious sense of longing and terror.

“I’ll talk to him about it if you want.”

“Oh, um.”I think about it.I asked Pete for help finding a place to live and he’s giving me a brilliant option if Kingston agrees.I don’t actually have a good reason to turn it down, except for the vague fluttery feeling I get when I’m near Kingston, or thinking about him, or working on the portrait of him that I’m not really supposed to be working on.Besides, it sounds like he’s not even going to be there, so I give myself a quick, stern talk.Now is not the time to faff about.Now is the time to act.“I would appreciate that.Thank you.”

He seems pleased when I agree.“I’ll call him later.Want some fries?”

“No, I’m okay.”I take a large gulp of my ale and say the next bit while I still have my nerve.“So, the other piece of business is about work.About meeting with Fernanda Ruiz, specifically.And wondering if that’s still something you think would be a good idea.I know I put you off before, but I’m trying to get my shit together and I think—I mean, I have to be, so yeah—I’m ready.”

I resist the urge to hide my face in my hands.Pete isn’t going to make fun of me for being useless at this.I manage to hold his gaze as he reacts to my pathetic statement.

True to form, he perks up at the prospect of being able to help.“That’s great news.She has been dying to meet with you, seriously, ever since she saw your piece in the Art Center’s winter show.Do you want me to give you her number?Or have her call you?Or—maybe we should all meet together?”

As much as I’d love Pete to guide me through a meeting with one of the most successful art agents in New York, I can’t trespass on his kindness any more than I already have.I can do this on my own.I’m pretty sure, at least.

“I’ll call her.”I say.That’s what new, improved Toby would do, anyway.

“There you go.”My phone pings as he shares her contact info with me.

“Pete, can I ask you one more question?”

“Of course.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?We’re barely friends.”

Pete looks surprised, and I feel bad for appearing ungrateful.He scrunches up his mouth and shrugs.“I guess I know what it feels like to be scared to take the next step in your career.When I was trying to make it happen, I made a lot of mistakes.People I trusted screwed me over.”

I can all too easily imagine sweet open-hearted Pete being the target of someone’s evil agenda and it makes me angry that he had to suffer.

“The art world is not for the faint of heart,” he goes on.“You have what it takes to make great art that people will want to hang on their walls.But if you decided you didn’t want to engage with the rest of it—well, that’s your prerogative.If you do, then I want to do what I can to help you make fewer mistakes than I did.The least I can do is to get you in touch with people who aren’t going to screw you over.It’s called paying it forward, I think.”

I reach across the table and pat his arm.“And being a decent human being.You give us all faith in humanity, Pete.”

He smiles, showing a dimple.“I’ve been lucky.Really lucky.And I guess I wouldn’t feel right about not giving back.”

“I’m lucky I met you,” I say, feeling it down to my core.“And lucky we came to Rosedale.”

“I feel lucky you came to Rosedale,” Pete says earnestly.“And so does Jack, and the folks at the Art Center, and Kingston.”

“Kingston?”His name sends a jolt of awareness through me.

“He’s so excited about the painting you’re doing of his house,” Pete says.“I was actually going to ask you, and feel free to say no—it’s not a quid pro quo thing, if you’d consider doing one for me and Jack.I know Jack would absolutely love it.But if you don’t have time or don’t want to, it’s totally fine.”

“I would be delighted,” I answer, happy there’s something I can do to repay his kindness.“I just need to take some reference pictures.”

“Anytime you want.Thanks, Toby.”

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