Page 68 of Storm in a Teacup
I don’t see her or Carolyn when I walk in, which is odd. One of them is normally behind the front counter. Even if they’re somewhere else in the shop, potentially hiding behind a tall piece of furniture or what have you, I’d expect them to shout out a greeting.
I poke around a bit, weaving through the aisles before I find Linny in the slightly elevated section at the back of the shop, arms crossed over her chest with her back to me. Even with the squeak of my approaching footsteps on the uneven hardwood floors, she doesn’t seem to hear me.
I clear my throat, and with that, she pivots around. “Ben,” she practically breathes. “What are you doing here?”
I cock my head to the side, confused by this response to my presence. “Just popping in to see you, cardamom.”
“Oh.”
I’m not saying she’s always excessively enthusiastic about my presence, but this is different. She’s indifferent about me being here. It’s throwing me off. “Er, do you want to come with me to a gig of Isla’s tomorrow? At McCarthy’s pub.”
“Why?”
I keep pushing through this extremely weird vibe of a conversation. “Because I thought you’d like to come?”
“Oh. Uh, maybe? I don’t know. Do you need me there?”
I chuckle. “No, I don’tneedyou there. I want you there. David is probably going to be there, but…”
She cuts me off with a sharp inhale and a slight roll of her eyes.
My jaw tightens. “What?”
“I just…” she covers her face with a hand for a moment before dragging it away and losing my eye. “I just don’t have the energy for this right now.”
“The gig is tomorrow—”
“No,” she cuts me off. “I mean the whole David thing. The whole I’m in love with this guy but he doesn’t love me back bullshit. People have bigger things going on, Ben. Move past it.” Her eyes widen as she slaps a hand over her mouth, as though realizing what she said a moment too late.
My jaw manages to tighten even further. “Right.”
She shakes her head rapidly, dragging her hand away from her mouth. “Oh my god. Benny, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That was horrible to say.”
I blow out a huff of air, not meeting her eye. “Yeah, I didn’t love that.”
She approaches me carefully. “I’m sorry,” she says again, gently grabbing my arm. “I’m being extremely self-centered right now. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s not.”
I use my hand to cover hers. “Really, Lin. It’s fine.” I swallow. “What’s wrong?”
She sighs, glancing behind herself, and says quietly, “That couch is green.”
I look at the couch in question. It’s a small loveseat with a frame of brass and, yes, sage green upholstered fabric functioning as the seating.
“It is green,” I agree, not sure what exactly the issue is.
“I thought it was gray.”
“Oh. Like when you bought it?”
“No.” Then she amends, “Well, yeah, but that’s not what I meant. I thought it was gray until just now. The light hit ita certain way as it got brighter in here, and I could see that it was green.”
“Oh,” I say again, still not understanding the true issue.
She exhales a thick breath of air through her nose. “I couldn’t see the color. I mean, I see it now, but I couldn’t see it until a certain light hit it, then my brain changed the color for me, so I can see it now.” She swallows. “RP can involve color blindness. I could have trouble with colors because of the cones, which help you see color, mutating. My aunt has a hard time with purple and brown. Red, pink, and orange. Gray and certain greens.”
