He took a breath, and patted my knee again. "Wing it, wing it, wing it. Take the commissions. Do your best. People will respond to your best."
I sighed and smiled at him. "Thank you."
He returned my smile. "What else?" he asked. "You said you had stuff. Stuff's plural."
"Stuff is not plural," I said, squinting playfully at him.
"I think, in this case, it might be," he said.
"I guess my parents are a little bit of a factor," I said. "They're not asking me for anything, but they sacrificed a lot for me to be able to go to school, and I would love to be able to pay them back. Maybe I give myself a hard time for not studying something that would have been a little more lucrative."
"If it makes you feel any better, it's still as difficult to be a success at something lucrative as it is to be one at something not-so-lucrative. They don't go handing out millions to people who graduate with a business degree."
I let out a little laugh at that. "I guess that makes me feel better."
"It should make you feel better," he said. "Because it's true. None of us know what we're doing. You just keep pressing forward in spite of that."
And because he was so kind, and it was actually making me feel a little better to talk about things, I went and blurted something I would never in a million years have normally said. "Plus, I kissed a guy I didn't even like at the wedding party just now."
"Not even as a friend?" he asked, with a slightly worried look on his face like someone might have done something to make me uncomfortable.
I smiled and shook my head. "It was a mutual kiss," I said. "But I only did it because I had a crush on someone else."
"Joe Spicer, perhaps?" he asked with one eyebrow raised a little. I got anxious the instant I heard his name.
"Who? What? Did I kiss Joe? No."
He tried not to smile. "And that was the problem?" he asked slowly.
"Noooo," I said. I was a terrible liar, and the word came out like more of a question than a statement.
Mr. Steiner smiled. "He's always been such a dynamic person. Even as a really young man."
"I didn't even say anything about Joe. You're just assuming."
"Okay," he said, smiling with his hands raised.
"Why would you even think it was him?" I asked.
He shrugged. "He was the most eligible young man at the party… besides Grant McEwen, and I think Grant might have been the one you regrettably kissed when the two of you took off before dinner."
I felt a wave of embarrassment, imagining everyone talking about the two of us disappearing together. "Did everyone know about that?" I asked.
"No," he assured me. "I just happened to be walking through the kitchen and saw you two headed toward the supply closet. I assumed you weren't looking for towels."
"I'm sorry about that," I said, feeling my cheeks flush.
He patted my knee again. "Sweetheart, there's no need to be sorry. And there's no need to feel bad for not having it all together all the time. Life is a constant series of falling apart—the question is whether or not you can keep putting it back together." He paused and tilted his head at me. "There was a guy in the Bible named Paul who wrote a passage about something he called a thorn in his flesh. Something he really wished he could get to go away. Anyway, Paul asked God about it several times, and God said to him, My grace is sufficient.
"I've heard of that. I thought he was talking about being sick."
"Not necessarily. No matter what's going on around you or inside of you, you have to remember the simple fact that God's grace is sufficient for it. Period. It's a truth I return to time and time again in life. He's with you, He loves you, and you can lean on him no matter what kind of thorn you have. He doesn't let you experience those things for no reason."
"Yeah, but sometimes, mine are probably self-inflicted."
He reached up and put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't put too much pressure on yourself to have it all together, sweetheart. Nobody's got it all together." He gestured around him. "Look at me. I'm happily married, I live in this amazing house, and I can assure you, I do not have it all together. Not even close. I can mentally melt down at the drop of a hat if I let myself," he said lightheartedly. He lightly pinched me with a smile. "I can get you an anxiety attack on demand, basically."
I giggled and gave him a playful but skeptical glare. "Surely you've got it all together living in a place like this," I said.
"Nope," he said. "Been winging it all along. Seriously. Fight your battles, and put yourself back together, just like you're doing."
I smiled at him. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he said. "Listen, I can tell you have a good head on your shoulders, Lu. And your art's good. My wife and I know a lot about art, and you're the real deal. I didn't tell you this earlier, but we're familiar with your man, Theo, who started S&S. He knows what he's doing. You wouldn't have a spot in his place if he didn't see something in you. He must believe in you."
"It's me I'm working on," I said.
He smiled. "Get used to it, because you'll continue to do it your whole life."
I shook my head and smiled at him. "I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me."
He let out a laugh. "Are you kidding? I'm the one who should be thanking you. I'm gonna look back on this talk one day when your stuff's worth millions."
I couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across my face at his kind words.
"And for what it's worth, sweetheart, Joe would be one lucky man to have you."
My heart leapt, but I tried not to react. "I never said anything about Joe," I said.
He patted my shoulder and then stood with a little groan. "I know, but even still, Joe would be a lucky man to have you."
I didn't say anything to that. I just smiled at him and shook my head as we began walking toward the door.
"I want you to stay here if you like, but I reckon you should go out with the rest of them since you only have one night left in Dublin."
"You reckon I should?" I asked.
He nodded.
"I'd be winging it," I said.
"Might as well get used to it," he said. He shrugged and raised his elbow like a chicken flapping its wing. I thought he was calling me chicken at first, but then I realized he was telling me to wing it.
I gave him a sincere smile. "It really feels good to smile, Mr. Steiner. I know that sounds dramatic or whatever, but I mean it. Thank you for letting me say all that just now."
"I'm just pumping you up for when I get you to do a commission for me."
"Anytime," I said with a smile.
"Atta girl," he said, throwing a fake punch at my chin.
"Thank you," I repeated.
"Don't mention it," he said.
"I seriously won't, if you don't mind," I said, causing him to smile. "Dinner was really amazing," I said as he reached for the door. "The whole wedding, really. You guys really outdid yourselves." I paused and shrugged. "I guess I can't really say that since I've never been here and have nothing to compare it to, but I think you outdid yourselves. You outdid anything I've ever seen, that's for sure."
He let out a chuckle. "You're just the sweetest little thing, Lu."
I smiled.
"Remind me what your last name was so we can keep an eye out for your work. We're always looking to add to our collection."
"And a beautiful collection it is," I said. "It's Osborne."
"Lu Osborne? Were your parents rockstars or something?"
"Not even close," I said with a smile. "My dad's literally a garbage man."
"Why did you say literally?"
"Because I didn't want you to think I was joking."
"I wouldn't have thought that," he said. "There's nothing wrong with being a bin man. My dad was a plumber."
"He likes his job," I said. "And my parents do okay. My mom has a job and everything. It's not like they need my help, I just feel like it'd be nice to repay them eventually."
&
nbsp; "I'm almost sure they're more concerned with you being happy."
I grinned. "I know they are."
Mr. Steiner rubbed my shoulder. "Lu's an interesting name, too," he said. "I meant to ask you about it earlier, and I forgot.
"Lulie," I said. "Like Julie with an L. I have a sister who's two years older than me. My parents were planning on calling me Julie. My mom was still carrying me when they told my sister, and she couldn't pronounce it, so they changed their mind and named me Lulie instead. Everyone called me Lu, though, right from the start."
One corner of his mouth turned up as he contemplated that. "What's your sister's name?"
"Jennifer," I said. I smiled. "Although sometimes, when I'm mad at her, I call her Lennifer or Lenny."
Mr. Steiner laughed. "I like that," he said, nodding. He shrugged. "But I also like Lu."
"I like you, too," I said, misunderstanding him on purpose.
He smirked at me and waved from over his shoulder as he walked away, and I went back into the room to make up my mind about going to the pub.
Chapter 5
Frankly, I was afraid to change my mind about going with them to the pub—lately I was afraid of everything and nothing at the same time. I wasn't sure what would happen with Grant, and I wasn't sure how everyone would respond when I went down to meet them after I said I wasn't going, but I decided to do it in spite of my uncertainties. I told myself to wing it like Mr. Steiner said.
I sent a text to Rebecca to let her know that I was going with them. I wasn't doing it just so that she would know about travel arrangements. I text to let her know I was coming because I knew it would keep me from backing out.
I changed into dressy, dark jeans with a few layered tops and a light scarf, figuring I could take a layer off if it was warm when we got there. My hair had been down for the wedding, but I pulled it up into a loose bun. It was the best I could do with the time and supplies I had on hand, and I reminded myself of that as I walked toward the great room where everyone was gathered.
I could see as I approached that there were roughly fifteen people spread out in clusters. "We're the only ones going," Emily said, raising her hand from a group that was gathered near the exit to the foyer.
I smiled and headed in their direction. I walked by another group on the way, which consisted of the Steiners and Sarah's parents. "Going out with the others?" Mrs. Steiner asked as I passed.
"I think I am," I said. I shrugged. "When in Dublin," I added, since I was a huge dork who filled silences when I was nervous.
"When in Dublin!" Mrs. Steiner yelled in her thick Irish accent. She held her fist in the air when she said it, and everyone standing nearby instinctively lifted their fists and made a sound of agreement.
We were laughing at the silliness of it all as I walked away, headed for the group of people who were standing with Emily. Rebecca reached out to touch my shoulder in a somewhat awkward but sweet greeting. I patted her back and smiled. I was still apprehensive about going, but I told myself they were all winging it just like me.
Joe stood on the opposite end of the circle of people, looking like a male model in his street clothes. I only glanced at him for a second before focusing on Emily, who was standing right next to him looking blonde and beautiful with a career in finance. I smiled at her before letting my eyes find Drake who waved at me with the same hand that was holding a small camera.
"Slummin' it?" I asked, referring to the tiny camera he was holding.
He chuckled. "I decided not to lug around my camera, and this is better than my phone."
"I’m just playing. I'm surprised you're taking that. I thought you'd take the night off."
"I am," he said, smiling. "That's how much I like taking pictures. I've got the night off, and I'm still bringing my camera."
"I think this is all of us if you guys are ready," Joe said. He stepped forward, and we collectively jumped to attention, ready and willing to follow him wherever he went. There were only six of us who decided to go, so we got by with taking the rental SUV, which Eli drove. Joe sat in the front with him, giving him directions, and the rest of us piled into the back.
It took the better part of an hour to get to the pub, but that was because Joe led us on a detour to see some other places in Dublin first. I was sitting in the very back with Rebecca, but I heard the people in the front two rows having a conversation about wanting to come back to Ireland when they had more time to explore.
We were relieved to find a good spot to park within a block from the pub, and the six of us filed out and headed in that direction. I still wasn't used to the subtle differences between Dublin and American cities, and I was charmed by my surroundings as we went inside.
I noticed a lack of plastic. Everything seemed to be made of stone and wood as we made our way inside the pub, and it gave me a warm feeling. The live music only added to that sensation. There was a small section off to the right, near the stage where people were dancing and swaying, but it wasn't nearly as disorderly as I had imagined.
Joe had been in touch with Grant who had a couple of tables reserved for us when we arrived. Grant shot me a delighted smile when he realized I was there, and I returned it, trying to be friendly and noncommittal at the same time.
Two of his friends were with him, both of whom had been at the wedding. We greeted one another and talked about what a cool atmosphere it was as we found seats around the tables he had reserved.
We sat around, listening to the music, and interacting with the locals sitting around us. We had been there for what must have been about an hour when Joe mentioned wanting to dance. Emily was sitting right beside him and was happy to volunteer before he even got the statement out of his mouth. Rebecca and Eli joined them, leaving me and Drake with the crew from Ireland. Grant and his group knew some of the people sitting around us, so they were content to hang out at the table while the others went to dance.
"I'm gonna go use the ladies room," I announced as I stood. A few of them acknowledged me with a wave or glance, but otherwise didn't respond.
I glanced toward the makeshift dance floor on my way to the restroom and saw that Joe and Emily were trying to find a spot to dance at the edge of the action. I watched them long enough to see her lean up and whisper something to him. He smiled and said something back to her, and the sight of it made my heart drop. I turned and began my trek to the ladies room at a much faster pace. It infuriated me to want something I couldn’t have.
That helpless feeling I told Mr. Steiner about was revisiting me, and I reminded myself that I was strong enough not to go down that rabbit hole.
I said a quick prayer asking God to give me something to distract me from this man, and it was seriously and miraculously at that very moment when I found that distraction in the form of a sharp shooting pain in the palm of my hand.
I had absentmindedly reached out to run my hand along a rail as I turned a corner on my way to the restroom when I felt the pain. I stopped in my tracks and stared down at the heel of my hand.
Wall sconces provided the only light in the hallway. I happened to be standing right under one of them, so I was relatively sure I wasn't seeing things, but it was still hard to believe. Right in the base of my hand (on the pinky side) was a wooden splinter.
It was not a full inch long, but it was definitely, no doubt, one hundred percent, over a half inch. I had a few splinters in my life, but never one like this. I took a long blink, hoping I was seeing things and that it would be gone if I kept my eyes closed for a few seconds. I had no such luck. It was still there when I opened them.
It was really dark wood—so dark that it almost appeared black. I glanced at the rail, wondering how in the world a piece of it ended up in my hand. It had gone in at just the right angle that I could see the whole thing under the surface of my palm. I stared at it in wonder at how it had broken off. I honestly wasn't sure how it had happened.
I had to examine it more closely to even see which way it had gone in. I could s
ee which side was open by the tiniest little speck of blood right at the entry point. It had been hurting before, but inspecting it and seeing that blood, insignificant as it was, only made it worse. I felt lightheaded at the thought of trying to take it out. It was by far the biggest and most intimidating foreign object that had ever ended up under the surface of my skin, and I had no idea where to begin to get it out.
"Do I need a doctor for this?" I asked the person walking by.
I was facing the light and staring at the heel of my hand, so I couldn't see who it was when I spoke—I only heard that someone was walking behind me.
"Do you need a doctor for what?" a man's voice asked.
He spoke with an American accent and came up behind me with familiarity. I knew it was Joe right away, and my already racing heart began pounding in my chest.
He stepped even closer, staring at the heel of my hand from over my shoulder. "What is that?" he asked after a few seconds.
I shifted to glance at him. "It's a thorn in my flesh," I said.
I hadn't meant it to be funny, so I was staring at him with a serious expression when his face broke into a grin. "A thorn in your flesh, ay?"
"Yes," I said. I held my hand out for him to inspect. "There's a big thorn right there. Can you see it?"
"Oh, I see it all right. I was just wondering how it ended up in your flesh. Where did it come from?"
I gestured at the railing that was attached to the wall. "Right there," I said. "I just put my hand on the rail, and it bit me. Do I need a doctor?"
Joe took my hand in his and inspected it in the light. A smile touched the corner of his lips like he thought it was cute that I was so worried about it. "I think it just needs some tweezers."
I shook my head and pulled my hand away. "I'm not digging in there to get that," I said. "It's deep. I think it needs somebody who knows what they're doing."
"Eli knows what he's doing," Joe said.
"I forgot he's a doctor."
"He is a doctor, but we don't need him for this," Joe said. "I can take that out, no problem."
"And you happen to have a pair of tweezers in your pocket?" I asked.
Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 2) Page 3