Bloom

"Oh, stop it," Annabelle said. "He's nice."

Millie and Isaac laughed and Millie said, "You like him, your face is redder than a beetroot!"

"Don't be ridiculous."

But she knew it was true, her face prickling warm.

~0~

Most people wore masks, many fallen about their chins or around necks while sipping coffee, and Annabelle considered how it was only a matter of time till the virus caught up with her. She sat in her stall, surrounded by her prints, looking to Isaac who was doodling on a piece of paper, but she couldn't quite see what he was drawing.

A woman approached, flicked through several prints, but didn't buy any. Looking into the crowd again, she wondered if Felix would drop by.

Don't be silly, Annabelle, she chastised herself. He's a catch and probably has many woman, or little interest in an almost forty-year-old with grey strands appearing in her hair and noisy teenage kids.

She sighed and Isaac turned to her, giving her a quizzical look, but said nothing. He was bored, perhaps exasperated for having to pay his dues by helping his mother out, and she smiled, sarcastically asking, "Are we having fun?"

"Having the time of my life," he said, rolling his eyes. "Can I go for a wander, maybe check out if anyone's watching Mills?"

"What if you have a customer?"

"No one wants me to draw their picture."

Annabelle gave him a wry smile. "No one wants to buy my prints either. I'll tell you what, go stretch your legs but bring me back coffee. A flat white, and don't be too long."

"I need money then."

"Who doesn't," she said, but handed over ten dollars. "I want change."

"Can I buy a drink too?"

"Sure. Oh, and put your mask on correctly!"

Isaac rolled his eyes again and left her, wandering off. Annabelle didn't expect him to return for a while and soon was happy to sell two prints of her botanical art, her sunflower and a sprig of wattle, plus a portrait of a flame tree in full bloom, covered in thousands of crimson flowers.

"Olá, Annabelle!" She looked up to see Felix standing there and her heart thumped a little faster. He carried four bulging shopping bags with celery and other produce sticking out the top.

"Felix, hello. How was shopping?"

"Ah, it was good. I like to pick up fresh produce for my café when I can. I haven't seen your stall before. I can see you're quite talented."

"Thank you, I, um...I, ah, paint, when I have time. Not often, you know how it is."

His mask moved a tad and she knew he was smiling. "I surf when I have time and so I haven't surfed in a while."

"Work and children, right."

"Exactly."

"Mariana's off with her mother and you're working all weekend?"

"Ah, yes, I have to make money, you know how it is."

Annabelle nodded. "No rest for the wicked."

He smiled, she was sure, and for a moment neither spoke, the silence awkward. Soon Felix asked, "You are here till the afternoon?"

"I close at one. Maximise my chances of selling something."

"From what I can see your prints are beautiful. I'm in a hurry, but I promise I'll go through them next time."

"No obligations," Annabelle said, feeling her face prickle, wishing it wouldn't.

They were silent again, before he offered, "You should pop over to the café after you're finished here. I'll make you a coffee on the house."

"Your offer is very kind. I, um, do have to visit my friend Louise this afternoon...but yes, perhaps I'll drop by on the way."

"Great, maybe I'll see you then!"

"Okay, yes," she nodded, "Hopefully, yes."

He smiled with his eyes and so did she, then he turned and left her with her thoughts, wondering if Felix was attracted to her or was he being nice.

What would I do if he genuinely likes me, she thought. I'm so out of practice with nice men, I don't even know what to expect anymore!

She laughed at herself, feeling like a younger woman for the first time in a long time, enjoying the feelings and possibilities, the unknowns, the trepidation and excitement, all at the same time.

"Annabelle Thorne, isn't it?"

The woman's voice startled her and she looked up, a woman in a mask standing in front of her, about Annabelle's height of approximately one-sixty-five centimetres, with thick blond hair streaming from under a black fiddler cap. Maybe in her mid-to-late twenties. Her eyes were large and green, and there was something strongly familiar about her, but Annabelle couldn't immediately place who she was. Despite her mask, Annabelle suspected the woman was smiling.

"Yes," she replied, then it hit her. "You're Ms McAvaney. I didn't recognise you under your mask!"

"Isobel, please." Her voice was friendly and Annabelle knew she was smiling now, despite the mask. "I ran into Isaac and he told me you run a stall here selling paintings, so I thought I'd pop over and take a look."

"Oh, I hope he's behaving at school."

Isobel nodded and was clearly still smiling under her mask. "Isaac's good student and honestly, I'd put him in the top handful of students in the school. To be totally honest, I was taken by surprise when he swore at me."

"I'm so sorry he did, I thought I'd raised him better. I'm mortified."

Isobel nodded. "Don't be sorry. He's owned his behaviour and is making up for it at school. He, um, mentioned his father."

Annabelle felt the heat rise to her face. "Did he?"

"He did. He told me about the court case and prison sentence."

"He was, ah, convicted of misleading investors over some dodgy dealings. We lost almost everything to pay court costs...um, did Isaac tell you anything else?"

With a shake of her head, Isobel said, "Not much. Isaac did say he felt he worried he was following in his father's footsteps when he spoke to me, but wouldn't tell me any other details."

Annabelle looked down for a moment, the shame rising. "My husband could be an unpleasant person. He certainly said the things to me that Isaac said to you and I know it's exactly where Isaac got them from, but it's no excuse and he should've known better."

After a moment's contemplation, Isobel responded, her voice soft. "He does know better, I assure you. He's a good kid, Annabelle."

"I know he is. He's such a gentle soul and Travis made a bad impression on him...anyway..."

There was an awkward silence between the two woman, then Isobel looked about and said, "I can see where Isaac gets his artistic streak from, your art is fantastic!"

"Thanks, it's a hobby." Annabelle paused for a moment, wondering how much she should say to Isaac's teacher, but Isobel, who was now flicking through prints, gave her good vibes. "I hadn't painted in years until I returned here to Brisbane."

"This is very professional."

"Thanks, I think they're alright."

"I can't draw to save my life," Isobel laughed. "Did you learn this?"

"My Grandmother taught me, so yes, I did learn it."

"I bet you have natural talent though, because these are great."

Annabelle smiled, liking Isobel more and more, watching her pull a print from the batch. It was the sunflower, the same print hanging in Annabelle's living room.

"I really like this, it's like a photograph," Isobel said. "The seeds are even arranged in the Fibonacci sequence, like the real thing!"

"I painted it many years ago, when my eldest, Millie, was a baby. It took me months to complete."

"I bet it did, the detail is incredible and the colour, so vibrant!" Isobel picked another print from the stack. "Ooh, I like this orchid, I gave one similar to this to my mother for her birthday. A real one, not a painting, and it was pink too!"

"It's a Phalaenopsis," Annabelle said with a chuckle at Isobel's quip, about how she'd bought a real one, not a painting. "It's hot off the press, brand new."

"My Grandparents grow orchids. They are in a society or something and show their plants in competitions. Well, they display them, anyway. Most of their back yard is like a greenhouse!"

There's a moment of excitement when you feel you're connecting with someone, and Annabelle felt the feeling coming over her now, mostly forgetting Isobel was her son's teacher, feeling like she was making a friendship, or at least felt comfortable opening up. "My Grandma who taught me to draw was a botanist whose expertise was in terrestrial orchids. My Grandpa was a botanist too, an expert in epiphytic orchids, and they were kind of rivals at first, but Grandpa commissioned Grandma to help with sketching his specimens and they ended up falling for each other and soon married."

"Of course they did," Isobel laughed. "What a fantastic story."

"Sort of," Annabelle said. "Back in those days it was relatively rare for women to choose academic careers, where opportunities were few. And when women who did choose to work got married, they generally were expected to give up work, especially when they fell pregnant."

"Oh, no, she stopped being a botanist?"

"Not quite, she fell pregnant with my Aunty and stopped working in the field, but still worked in the herbarium and lab. Grandpa went into the field and Grandma didn't see much of him during this time."

"Of course, the sexist olden days."

"Right! Well, Grandma gave birth to my Aunty and she and Grandpa found time to conceive Mum before Grandpa went off again, this time to the Papua New Guinean highlands with a party of other biologists, with the intention to search for new plant and animal species."

"Leaving your Grandmother pregnant and by herself."

"Yes," Annabelle said with a nod. "And unfortunately their aircraft crashed when attempting to land on a tiny airstrip on the side of a mountain in some village, and Grandpa was killed."

"Oh, no!" Isobel said, her hand flying to her face, over her mask. "That's awful."

"Yeah, so Mum never knew her Dad and Grandma never remarried. Despite their traditional roles Grandma loved my Grandpa and always spoke fondly about him, and she'd take me to the cemetery and we'd talk to his grave-stone as if he could hear us. She taught me everything she knew about orchids, too, and also how to paint them. Hence my paintings here."

"Wow, what a story." Isobel held up the orchid and sunflower. "I'm going to buy both of these, they're beautiful. In fact, I'm going to buy two of the orchid, one for me and one for my Grandparents!"

"Fantastic," Annabelle said, glad to make a sale but even more glad to have made a connection with someone, even if it was Isaac's maths teacher. "Here, I'll wrap them in tissue paper for you. Here's my card too, in case you want more. I've started a website."

"Thank you." Isobel handed over the money and Annabelle felt she didn't want Isobel to leave, but also didn't want to press her luck by taking up Isobel's time. But Isobel appeared to hesitate once their transaction was complete, and she said, "Isaac told me you're a real estate agent."

"I'm a property manager." Annabelle shifted on her feet, a tad uncomfortable talking about work despite the fact Isobel was hanging about. "I look after rentals, working with tenants and landlords."

"Yes," Isobel said before pausing thoughtfully. "Forgive me for intruding, but he told me you weren't entirely happy with your job."

Isobel let the sentence hang and Annabelle swallowed, the discomfort rising. But she genuinely liked Isobel and apart from the direction of conversation, Annabelle felt increasingly comfortable sharing personal information with her and she was curious as to Isobel's line of questioning.

"I don't love it, no."

"I'm sorry, Isaac shouldn't have told me, and I shouldn't have said anything to you."

Annabelle considered the younger woman. "It's fine, he talks because he doesn't have many friends up here. I suppose he's come to see you as a confidant or something, despite his rudeness towards you."

"Yes, like I've said, he's a good kid. But I guess you're wondering why I'm asking you about your work. I was wondering, have you ever considered teaching art? Like, teaching people to paint plants like you do?"

"No," Annabelle said, but a spark ignited in her mind. "I haven't ever thought about being a teacher, I never thought I was good at anything."

"Clearly that's not true," Isobel blurted, "You're a fantastic artist."

"It's a hobby and one I've rarely been allowed to indulge in, I mean, have the time for."

Allowed...the word hung between them, at least it did in her mind, recalling Travis' words, Why do you bother painting if you don't display them to others? If you're not selling them, you're wasting your time. Focus on other things...

Like raising their children and keeping their home ship-shape, as he liked to say. Perhaps Isobel didn't note her discomfort, and of course she couldn't read Annabelle's mind or know her history. She repeated, "I haven't thought of teaching, no."

Isobel was smiling under her mask, she was sure. The younger woman said, "I'm a high school maths teacher because my mother was a maths teacher. She's retired from teaching at school now, but she teaches maths at TAFE to help people who've not completed high school to achieve their Certificate of Education."

"Your mother sounds like an exceptional teacher."

"She is," Isobel replied. "I wouldn't have done so well at school if it wasn't for Mum. I wasn't the fastest or brightest at mathematics, but I found as long as something was explained clearly to me, I could generally work through things until I understood it. Unfortunately several of my teachers in high school were crap, but fortunately Mum would sit with me and help when I struggled. I think I was maybe seventeen or eighteen when I finally realised what a patient and good teacher Mum was. I earned excellent grades at school and could be many things, but I decided to follow Mum into teaching."

"So are you suggesting I could teach painting at TAFE?"

"I think you could," Isobel said, nodding her head.

"I have no qualifications."

Isobel gestured to Annabelle's prints on the tables surrounding them and held up the prints she'd purchased. "These are your qualifications. Anyhow, it was a thought that came to me before."

Annabelle considered what teaching at a Technical and Further Education college, TAFE, might entail, where she wondered even if such jobs existed. Would they pay enough for her to leave Top Notch Reality?

If so, I'm there!

"I never thought of it before," she told Isobel.

"But you're thinking about it now, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said, chuckling. "I'll definitely look into it. Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Isobel said, waving her hand down. A young couple entered the small stall marquee and began flipping through Annabelle's merchandise, and Isobel said, "I best let you go but it's been lovely to chat."

"Yes, it was a pleasure," Annabelle said, then without thinking she added, "I hope we can chat again sometime."

There was definitely a smile in Isobel's eyes. "Absolutely, we totally should."

Annabelle spied Isaac and Millie walking towards them; Isaac with a coffee in hand and Millie with guitar case slung over her right shoulder. "As long as we're not discussing my offspring's bad behaviour."

Isobel laughed. "Don't you worry, I highly doubt we'll be having to chat about him anytime soon. But perhaps we'll chat about other things sometime!"

Annabelle smiled as she watched Isobel turn, converse briefly with Isaac and Millie before walking away. She hoped Isobel would perhaps contact her, but knew deep down it was unlikely.

Why am I so desperate for her friendship?

~0~

"Is this your boyfriend's café?" Millie said with a chuckle when Annabelle pulled up to the curb outside Café Coffea. "Did he invite you in for lunch?"

Maybe this was a bad idea bringing Millie and Isaac to Felix's, Annabelle thought. But no, they were causal customers, dropping in for a quick coffee and bite to eat. No big deal!

"He's not my boyfriend," Annabelle said, realising too late how school-girl she sounded, and Millie and Isaac chuckled some more. "We're stopping for lunch and don't embarrass me."

"Don't embarrass us, Mum," Isaac said, and Millie laughed some more.

Four tables covered by umbrellas were arranged out front, behind them the large window displayed the café's name and picture of roasted coffee printed there, exactly like on the side of Felix's van. The trio walked through the glazed door, noting the interior was simple with timber tables up the side against a brick wall, and a counter-style bench along the opposite side, below the windows, with the aisle between the two. Several people sat here and there, eating lunches of burgers and salads and drinking coffee and tea.

Annabelle recognised heart-shaped leaved Philodendrons in pots hanging from the ceiling, and colourful bromeliads in pots of various sizes on the window sills, and bushy maidenhair ferns in the darker recesses.

Felix stood behind the counter at the end of the aisle, working his fancy coffee machine, serving the woman at the counter.

"Annabelle!" he said, looking up without stopping frothing milk. "I was wondering if you'd turn up. I'll be with you in a sec."

"Take your time."

He was smiling, she could tell, despite his face mask, and Millie gave her mother a nudge, and she whispered, "Even I can see he's kind of handsome. Look at his big arms, all covered in tatts! You can tell he's a bad boy, exactly how you like 'em."

Annabelle nudged her daughter back, but they both chuckled, giving her a double shot of delight, because she felt like a school girl and was bonding in some perverse way with her daughter.

Felix handed the coffee to the woman, giving her several kind words along the lines of, "Have a good day," and she turned with a smile in her eyes, walking past Annabelle.

Spreading his arms and placing his hands on the counter top, leaning slightly towards them, he said, "Drinks are on the house, and here's some menus if you'd like something to eat."

"Oh, thank you, but you don't have to give us freebies, I'll pay."

"No, no, you're my neighbours. Free drinks, but I'll let you pay for lunch." He said it with humour and Annabelle felt the buzz, the giddiness.

"I'll have a flat white, please," Isaac said, casually.

Millie added, "Same, please."

Annabelle shrugged and chuckled. "Make it three flat whites."

"Three flat whites it is. I'll bring them over if you'd like to sit anywhere. I'll take your order once I'm done."

The three sat at a table, where Annabelle and Millie faced the counter at the rear while Isaac faced the front. They examined the menus, Millie pointing out at least two thirds of the food was vegetarian or vegan. Many dishes were Brazilian, somewhat answering Annabelle's curiosity as to where Felix might be from, and she settled on a Brazilian coleslaw.

Felix arrived with their coffees, then pulled out his notepad and took their orders back to the kitchen. The lunch rush, if one occurred, was over, and more customers left than arrived. Felix brought their meals fairly promptly and they ate.

"Delicious," Millie said, rather exaggerated, finishing her corn, black bean and avocado salad.

"Delightful," Isaac grinned, finishing his feijoada and placing his fork on his plate, patting his chin with his napkin.

Annabelle shook her head, yet despite her children's exaggerations, she agreed, the food was delicious. They stood and Isaac went to the front door while Millie joined Annabelle at the counter to pay.

Felix's eyes shifted between mother and daughter. "Everything was okay?"

"It was delicious," Annabelle said. "Really yum."

"Yep," Millie agreed, "So yummy and so much avocado too, so now we'll never afford a house again!"

Felix laughed and then Millie pointed to a sign on the counter, telling them Feflix was, Hiring staff, ask at counter! "So you're looking for wait-staff?"