Chapter 9 - The Yellow Dress
Six months later.
Early summer had arrived in Columbia. The farmers' market in the town square was bustling with life—booths overflowing with fresh sunflowers, sweet peaches, homemade jams, and artisan bread. A local bluegrass band played banjo and fiddle music near the central fountain, their lively melody floating through the warm morning air.
I walked through the crowded market, wearing a bright, sun-yellow cotton dress that flowed freely around my knees, my brown hair loose and catching the golden sunlight.
In my hands, I carried a large bouquet of fresh sunflowers and a brown paper bag filled with warm peach pastries.
I paused near a local art booth, where a young woman was displaying her hand-painted ceramic pots.
"I love that color on you!" a voice called out behind me.
I turned around.
Standing near the fountain was a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a simple linen shirt and dark trousers. He had warm hazel eyes, a relaxed, genuine smile, and a leather sketchbook tucked under his arm.
"The dress?" I smiled.
"The dress," he nodded, stepping closer. "It looks like mid-summer sunlight. I was actually just trying to mix that exact shade of yellow on my watercolor palette ten minutes ago, but I couldn't get it right."
I looked at him, noticing the light blue paint smudges on his fingers and the open, easy way he carried himself. No stiff posture. No rehearsed corporate charm. Just a person who saw beauty in the world and wasn't afraid to say so.
"It's yellow ochre mixed with a touch of cadmium warm," I said, my eyes twinkling with amusement. "And a tiny drop of white to soft it down."
The man blinked, surprised, and then broke into a deep, warm laugh. "An expert! I'm Leo, by the way. I teach art history at the university."
"Evelyn," I said, reaching out to shake his hand. His grip was warm, strong, and completely unpretentious.
"Evelyn," he repeated softly, looking into my eyes. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, Evelyn. Would you... like to get a cup of coffee at the café across the street? I’d love to hear more about your color mixing secrets."
I stood there under the bright June sun, feeling the warm breeze rustle the fabric of my yellow dress.
May you like
Six months ago, I had been a ghost in a navy dress on a cold staircase in Elmhurst, listening to a man tell the world I was an embarrassment. Today, I was standing in the center of my own life, wearing sunlight, surrounded by color and music.
"I'd love that, Leo," I smiled.
