Avery checked the clock on her phone. Dessert had taken fifteen minutes, and Boothbay Harbor was less than an hour away.
“We’ve got loads of time.”
Anna Catherine pulled open one of the creaky double doors. Once their eyes adjusted to the dim lobby, Anna and Avery perused the schedule of summer stock plays and still photos of past stage productions. Anna peeked inside the theater and squealed. The stage lights were on. After calling out a hello and getting no answer, she sauntered down the aisle, climbed the left side stairs, and flittered to center stage. Avery followed, walking normally, hoping if someone caught them, they’d recognize Anna Catherine.
“I never went to college.” Anna spun around and her face found the lights. “I got discovered in middle school and bam!”—she clapped loudly—“I moved to New York to star on Broadway inThe Secret Garden. I rejoined my class for the first half of ninth grade but left when the Disney Channel cast me inSo High School. After that, it was tutoring on set. College always looked fun, at least in the movies. Well, exceptScream 2. What was it like?”
It had never occurred to Avery that Anna might have regrets.
“College was all the things your twenties probably were,” she said. “Disorienting, confusing, exciting. You make new friends, maybe become someone new. Your mind expands, your world too. You fall in love and get your heart broken. It’s an unpredictable mash-up of miserable and fun, and I’d do it over again in a heartbeat.”
“Is that why you’re going back to school?”
Avery ran her teeth over her lower lip.
“I didn’t know what else to do. An MBA seems practical and will help me get a great job.” The words fell out robotically, absent of feeling.
Lately, the MBA made less and less sense. College had been about discovering new things. Graduate school focused on one thing, to prepare for a career. She should have a clear goal before she invested so much time and money.
“Can I be honest?” Anna pivoted on one foot and faced Avery.
Avery wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what Anna had to say, especially if she said Avery would make a great girl boss. Sure, the girl inside her was still a dreamer. But in the corporate world, Avery viewed herself as a woman. Starting her own business hadn’t been easy. Managing inventory, cash flows, and employees had nothing to do with why she’d founded the Peppered Page, but those skills allowed her to do what she loved, design stationery.
“You’re like me.” Anna waved her hand out over the invisible audience. “We’re creators. Imagination fills our cups. Will an MBA do that for you?”
Avery swished the pendant on her necklace back and forth along the chain. Anna Catherine had joined the list of people who saw straight to Avery’s core. Miles and Lily had hinted at the same thing. Anna Catherine saying it felt like a revelation.
Avery had picked an academic discipline anyone could benefit from. But would it satisfy her?
“I don’t know,” Avery said as the truth rose in her throat.Probably not.
Anna reached out and touched Avery’s arm, as if in solidarity.
“I know I’m standing here talking about how I wish I’d gone to college,” she said in a stage whisper. “But I wouldn’t change a thing about my life. When I lay my head on my pillow every night, I’m thankful I get to do something I love. What do you love, Avery?”
Avery traced the “X” of stage-marking tape with her foot. Someone knew to stand right here and deliver a line. They probably felt a rush when they got the line right. The way she felt seeing the joy on someone’sface when they loved their wedding invitations or milk-bottle-cap backsplash. Crafting something from nothing, be it a watercolor painting or a new look for an old room, nourished her soul like nothing else.
She’d felt a pull to be more like her siblings. Her sister became a lawyer, just like their father. Her brother had an MBA and worked at a hedge fund. He never worried about health insurance or retirement, things Avery had found intimidating setting up for her employees at the Peppered Page. But no matter how many times he described what he did, Avery still didn’t know what a hedge fund was.
Anna’s hand worried at her mouth.
“I don’t mean to judge you. I’m sorry if I crossed a line,” Anna blurted out. “But I hate to see people throw away talent. The baby announcements I bought for Lennox from the Peppered Page were spectacular. The watercolor bassinet made of flowers.” She lifted her hand to her heart. “Vie de Luxemagazine featured me in a cover story on working mothers. They asked to put the announcement in their issue, but I refused for privacy reasons.Vie de Luxe. That’s high praise.”
Pride bloomed in Avery’s chest. She’d had a lot of celebrity clients, some of whom had posted her work. But a magazine’s approval came from a discerning editorial board. Validation in any form always helped ease the self-doubt all artists experienced. The night she had signed the paperwork for the sale of the Peppered Page, Avery dreamed the buyer backed out of the offer. She’d woken in a cold sweat, afraid the new company would realize they’d made a terrible mistake. The underlying worry that she might be a fraud had inspired her to apply to business school, which provided measurable markers to protect her from feeling like an imposter. But bypassing that pain meant missing out on incredible joy.
She’d miss the high of Wes bringing her birch tree bed to life or watching Lily tear up when she saw her wedding invitations. There’d be no more working through the first sketches of a project and tossing out the inevitable failures before finally getting it right.
Avery thought back to the night they’d lost Casper when Miles told her to envision what she wanted and go for it. At the time, she hadn’t seen the answer right in front of her. Redecorating the Boathouse and helping Miles pick finishes and furniture for the Red House had come so easily. Not everyone knew how to make their space into something they loved.
Perhaps selling the Peppered Page hadn’t been the end of something, but the beginning of something else. She’d loved designing stationery, but the non-compete clause in her contract meant she had to move on from paper. It didn’t mean she had to abandon all creativity.
“You okay?” Anna rubbed her elbow. “I hope I didn’t make you doubt yourself.”
Avery stepped on the stage marker, her feet covering the “X.” She wasn’t sure why she could finally hear her own inner voice. Or why it had taken so long for it to show up. Yes, her future with Miles and her career were uncertain. But for the first time in a long time, Avery could see she’d known the answer all along and hadn’t admitted it to herself until now.
“I’m okay. Thank you, Anna, for saying the hard stuff I needed to hear,” Avery said. “I’m not sure where I’m going or where I’ll land. This summer, I’ve discovered some things I’d never considered. I can feel an idea coming together and for this first time in a long time, I’m excited.”
“Oh sweetie, you’ve got this.” Anna gave her a hug. “Can we do one thing before we leave? I want to sing.”
