Page 58 of Dreams Come True at the Fairytale Museu
Eventually he shakes his head and picks up another pair of pipe cleaners. ‘I’d definitely miss making beanstalks.’
‘A regular occurrence round here. Not beanstalks specifically, but you know, crafty fairytale things. Your artistic touch will be missed.’
He looks at the beanstalk vine in his hand, but seems like he’s looking straight through it. ‘Yeah, it will.’
We get on with twisting our vines until we’re surrounded by sections of beanstalk that will hopefully equal about ten foot when joined together. The mugs are empty and half the packet of digestives has gone before Warren asks his next awkward question. ‘Why is it that the others are trying so hard? Are they just overbearing or do you really have such bad luck in relationships?’
‘Me?’ I say, like he could possibly mean anyone else when there’s only the two of us here.
I’m still twisting pipe cleaners to join the upper two sections of beanstalk together, and he’s moved on to sitting on the floor and putting his artistic talents to good use by cutting giant leaf shapes out of green paper, and he nods without looking up.
It’s not that I’m uncomfortable about being single, but how desperate my friends are for menotto be single is getting increasingly frustrating.Everyinteraction lately seems to circle back to it in some way, and it’s making me feel even more invisible. I know they mean well, but they aren’t listening to my repeated requests to leave my love life up to me, and I think Warren will understand that.
‘Mickey would tell you that my standards are too high and I’m searching for a Disney prince in a world where a Phil Mitchell lookalike is about the best you can hope for, but I just… I don’t want to settle. It’s a big deal to share your life with someone. I know what happens when someone you love is ripped away and it’s always made me hesitant to be open to relationships. If you love someone, you can also lose them, and it takes a lot of bravery to put yourself in that position. I don’t want to open myself up to that kind of heartbreak if it’s not life-changing, world-shakinglove. I’ve always wanted to meet someone who gives me the feeling I got when I was young and I watched Princess Aurora dancing in the forest with Prince Philip to “Once Upon a Dream”, or when I watched Cinderella spinning around the ballroom with Prince Charming, or when Prince Eric dives into the ocean to save Ariel even thoughhecan’t breathe underwater, but I’ve never met anyone who sparked butterfliesanddidn’t turn out to be a creep after another couple of dates, and I’m fine with that. If the right guy falls from the sky and lands in front of me, great. If he doesn’t, that’s also fine. Wherever we are is where we’re supposed to be, and however things work out, that’s right forus, even if our friends don’t agree.’
He looks up at me from his sitting position and a smile spreads slowly outwards. ‘I like that. That’s a really nice attitude.’
‘How about you?’ I watch his nimble fingers slicing the knife around the leaf stencil he’s made from cardboard like it’s an art form. ‘Why hasn’t someone snapped you up? Tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and handsome… in the right slant of light,’ I add quickly. God forbid he gets the impression that I fancy him. Whenever I’m around him, I go back to feeling like a teenage girl with a crush on the hottest boy in school who’d be laughed at if anyone found out.
‘…partially deaf, hell of a chip on my shoulder, mother issues, have occasionally been compared to a demonic gerbil… Yeah, it’s a mystery for the ages.’
‘Sarcastic. Artistic.’ I nod to the paper leaves. ‘Fancy car. Good taste in suits and even better taste in autumn jumpers.’ Nice forearms. Beautiful smile. Lovely eyes. Better not say those last three out loud.
He’s laughing so hard that he’s almost doubled over. ‘Oh, Liss, don’t flatter me so much, I might start thinking…’ He looks up and meets my eyes, and even though my cheeks are blazing, I don’t shy away from his gaze, because heisfunny and sarcastic, but there’s a little bit too much depth behind his self-deprecation, and Iwanthim to know that he’s lovely, and although I thought the worst of him at first, getting to know him changed that.
He shakes his head and goes back to concentrating on the leaves. ‘I’ve never been open to it. My mother always told me not to fall in love. Drummed it into me all the time – the worst thing you can ever do is open your heart. It’s not worth the heartache. When my dad died, itbrokeher. She wasn’t the same person afterwards. It was like she didn’t know who she was without him, and she still doesn’t. She still hasn’t reached the “happy memories” stage of grief. Instead, she resents him for dying, and for the impact it had on her. She says that meeting him was the worst thing she ever did because losing him was the worst thing she’s ever had to go through. None of this “grief is the price we pay for love” thing. She says love is a myth, a fairytale that only the gullible believe in, and if you’re going to fall in love at all, it should be a mutually beneficial business transaction, and feelings should never come into it.’
‘And you took that to heart?’ I bite my lip. I might never have fallen really and truly in love myself, but it’s demoralising to hear anyone talk about it like that, and I hope I never have to meet his mother because I’m fairly sure I would dislike her immensely.
‘I did. I grew up being told that the worst thing my mum had ever done was fall in love. That it was a mistake I must never repeat. I’ve dated, but nothing that’s ever gone anywhere. Like you said, it would take alotfor me to let someone in, and anyone who could get past the chip on my shoulder and the mother issues would have to be someonespectacularwith the patience of averytolerant saint, and I wouldn’t even mind if they did look like Phil Mitchell.’
I giggle, but he continues. ‘Did your dad ever get over losing your mum?’
‘No. He struggled with the grief for the rest of his life, but he was firmly in the “your mum was the best thing that ever happened to me, being married to her was my wildest and most wonderful adventure, and I wouldn’t change it for the world” camp. He never even considered another relationship, but he always encouraged us girls to look for someone who made our hearts soar.’
‘A nice thought. My mother lost her heart when my father died and it made her heartless in every sense of the word. It’s nice to think that grief didn’t affect everyone in that way.’
‘You didn’t lose yours.’
‘It feels like I did, sometimes. Until I came here andyoureminded me of the things that matter in life, and that some people are proud of having a big, beautiful heart and sharing it openly with the world.’
I’m chewing the inside of my cheek so hard that I can taste blood, and my need to hug him must be tangible because he looks at me like he can sense it, and changes the subject quickly.
I’m balanced on the top rung of the stepladder, having attached the top section of the beanstalk to the hook in the ceiling, I’m now tying the next section onto it, and Warren has moved on to following instructions to make red and white bean flowers out of crepe paper, and we’re both quietly concentrating until I reach the bottom, and he comes over to help me bury the base of the beanstalk into the planter and fill it with gravel.
Mickey found some oversized bean-shaped objects that were probably once part of a children’s playset, and the two of us have already painted them in sparkly pastel colours, and I’m intending to scatter some in the pot and hang others from the beanstalk itself, but Warren picks up a handful and tosses them in his palm.
‘We could hang these all around Ever After Street to advertise the new beanstalk exhibit. It could be part of the social media campaign. “Have you spotted a magic bean? What could it mean?”’
I love how much he’s getting involved in all this, and mainly, I love feeling like we’re on the same side and both have the museum’s best interests at heart.
‘Are beans in season? As in, what time of year would you plant them?’
‘I don’t know. Autumn-sowing ones, I guess…?’ I say questioningly, wondering where he’s going with the thought.
‘We could give away little bags of beans for planting! Get some small paper bags with the museum logo on, fill them with beans and put them in this planter with a “one per customer, help yourself” sign. That would be a fun little extra, right?’
‘Now you’re getting it,’ I say with a grin, thrilled by the change in his attitude since the early days. ‘If property development falls through, you’ve got a future in magical museum management.’
