Page 120 of The Crush of Christmas Past
Isla shuffles closer. “I didn’t know they were considering this piece,” she says softly. “My mom donated it to the town, but it got stashed away somewhere. Nobody knew where it went.”
“Now it’s right where it belongs.”
Unable to get Isla's story about her parents' dream out of my head, I scoured all of Sugarpine Springs, finally tracking Celeste's painting to the old town archives. It was tucked away behind boxes of historical documents. Knowing it belonged to Isla’s present, we rescued it and talked to Orla about adding it to the collection. It hardly took much convincing on our part.
Isla stares at it for a long time. Then she exhales, the corners of her mouth tilting up in a gentle smile. “It’s no Greene Gallery, but my parents would be thrilled.” More quietly, she adds, “Iam thrilled.”
Good. Exactly the point of this tour, in fact.
Isla, basking in her brilliance.
“This is the third proposal that’s gone down since we walked in,” Isla whispers.
I can’t tell if she’s in awe or utterly aghast.
A wave of applause breaks out across the jewelry store as the couple at the front counter finishes their very public declaration of love. Another champagne cork pops. More strangers cheer.
I give her rib a gentle nudge with my elbow. “Worried I’m about to make it four?”
Though her eyes widen, she recovers quickly. “No,” she says with a headshake. “We’re just here to check in on my work, right?”
“Hmm…more like admire your immense talent—but close enough.”
I steer her past the love-coated chaos to a display at the back of the store that’s in the process of being constructed.
“It’s not finished yet.” Isla brushes a strand of hair behind her ear. “I have quite a bit of troubleshooting ahead before the interactive elements function properly.”
The wall is lined with shadow boxes, each serving as a curated moment showcasing a piece of jewelry. Buttons and levers gleam from polished wood bases. I engage a switch under a pearl bracelet that lies nestled in sand. A tiny gear clicks to life, setting off a whirring sound.
“That triggers the wave,” she explains, tapping the plexiglass. “Once it’s hooked up and working properly, a curl of blue resin will sweep over the bracelet and make it look like the tide is coming in.”
“Javier helped with the mechanics?” I ask, referring to the hardware store owner.
She nods. “It only took three weeks of me sketching impossible ideas and him reminding me we can’t bend the laws of physics for us to finally land on a compromise. I’m really happy with the way it turned out.”
“I’ve seen the drafts,” I say, “but witnessing the art come alive in person…” I trail off as a miniature bedroom draws my attention.
Floorboards have been recreated from tiny strips of stained wood. A small window sits along the far wall, framed bygossamer curtains that stir in a breeze from a hidden fan. A shimmering bulb mimics sunshine breaking through clouds. Suspended in this beam, hanging from an invisible thread, an emerald pendant catches the light, scattering it in delicate shards.
“It’s inspired by a memory,” Isla says softly. “My mom always hung her necklaces off the corner of her vanity. When the sun's rays passed by, her jewelry painted their bedroom in a rainbow of colors.
“You’ve turned a simple stone into a heartfelt, tactile story.”
She grins proudly. "Anexpensivestone, but I get what you mean."
“You’ll have to present this to my team. Light a little competitive fire under their asses.”
“Sure, but don’t expect me to work for free just because we’re dating,” she teases.
“I thought we could barter a trade.” I nuzzle her cheek, then nip at her earlobe. “I have some good services I can provide on my end. Do you accept multiple orgasms?”
“Quit it.” She pushes against my chest. “You’re about to get us banned from another beloved local institution.”
“Not before I have a chance to present my gift.”
Isla bites down on her lip. “A present fromhere?”
“Once again, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
