Page 4 of Redemption
“Just when I thought today couldn’t get any worse.”
“What’s wrong?” Emma asked, concern etched in her blue eyes.
I sat next to her on the bed. “I saved up and ordered paintbrushes as a gift to myself, but they aren’t here.”
“Maybe they shipped separately? I'm sure Henry would be thrilled to give you some of his brushes in the meantime.”
“He would, but I don't want to use his dirty old shitty brushes.”
“Maybe it was accidentally delivered to him. It wouldn’t be the first time he's mistakenly opened one of your packages, right? You should go see.”
I sighed. “I hope you’re right.”
I trudged down the wood stairs from the loft, which was really a renovated attic. The bottom of the stairs met a dark, narrow hallway, which opened up into Henry's art gallery. I made my way through the aisles, quietly muttering his name from each shipping label as I examined the boxes scattered across the floor."
“Sophia, is that you? Do you need me?” In the aisle across from me, Henry was arranging pottery on a shelf from the highest point of his step stool.
“No,” I said a little too sharply. “Well, I mean yes. Sorry, I'm just frustrated.”
He peered down at me from over the display rack. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Part of my order isn’t here. Have you seen any other packages for me?”
Henry rubbed his chin then climbed down his step stool. “No, I haven’t. Maybe it’s by the door. Let’s go see.”
He motioned to the front door and followed behind me. Reaching the entryway, I searched the area, then checked outside on the patio, then behind the welcome desk before accepting the loss with a groan.
“You got your other stuff today, right?” Henry asked curiously.
“Yeah, but it was supposed to all be shipped in one package.”
Henry leaned against the doorway with a little smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “You were waiting on those new paintbrushes. I remember now. Well, since you got your other package, I’m sure it’s here. Look closer.”
He sounded a little too sure of himself. I squinted, looking more intently at my surroundings. A small box poking out from behind the planter in the corner caught my eye. I clasped my hands together as disappointment turned to joy. I rushed over to retrieve the box wedged between the heavy potted plant and the wall. Bending over at my waist, I carefully pulled the heavy planter aside, freeing my package. I quickly turned around, holding up my prize. Henry smiled wide, his eyes darting up from the plant to meet my gaze.
“Told you so. Now, let's see what's in this little box of yours.”
“Let’s go upstairs first. Emma’s waiting.”
“Right behind you,” he said.
Henry followed me to the hallway, then up the stairs and into my small room.
“So, he did have your package?” Emma said, shaking her head, barely glancing up from her phone.
“No. The delivery man put it behind a plant by the front door for some reason.”
Henry entered the room behind me.
“Speak of the devil,” Emma said.
Henry looked like he didn’t understand the saying, but I was too focused on my package to explain it to him.
I set the box down and ripped it open, forgetting my still-drying nail polish. I reached through the foam peanuts and pulled out a black velvet case. I unclasped the latch and opened it, revealing a handmade set of intricately designed, silver paintbrushes. I took one in my hand, gently gliding my finger along its shaft, admiring its texture and beauty. My fingers traced their way to the delicate tip, and as I pressed, the firm bristles gave way to silky strands.
Emma reached for one of the brushes with wide eyes. “These are beautiful,” she said before tickling the brush against the softness of her inner arm.
“I know, I usually don’t—” I began to say.
