My eyes widened as I saw her up close. She looked up to meet my gaze and gradually smiled coldly at me. "Nice to meet you, sir," Loraine said, speaking very formally.
After exchanging some small greetings, we both attended the afternoon church and sat next to each other to hear her angelic voice. After the ceremony was done, everybody left. I was about to exit, but Loraine caught up to me.
"Hey, sir, I'm glad to meet you again," she said. I helped her with her crutch and saw her caretaker fold her wheelchair to get her into the carriage.
"Is there something you need, Miss?" I asked curiously.
Before I could move, I accidentally touched her waist and her left hand. I moved away instantly and apologized to her.
"I'm so sorry about this," I said.
"No, no, it's alright," she reassured me. We sat together at the bench, and she invited me to be her assistant at the art school during the summer, and without hesitation, I agreed. Although I had limited experience in painting and the arts, she reassured me that she only needed an assistant.
Our interactions at that time after the church seemed pleasant, but Loraine remained mysterious, not one to share much about herself. She continues to mention that. Do not get too attached to her presence, as I might turn into her poem. I chuckled, not entirely understanding what she meant.
"On the very next day, I found myself in front of the school, and Loraine was waiting for me inside the classroom. The classes started, and I could see all the talented kids enjoying this summer experience in Minolva.
Loraine was teaching the children how to paint landscapes, and when she turned around, she introduced me, saying, 'My children, greet Sir Nile Harrington; he's new here in Minolva, and from now on, he will be with me as my assistant.'
The children cheered and ran towards me, asking many questions, and I simply enjoyed this time with them. However, I noticed that Loraine never smiled much, but she was loved by her students.
The day ended with me helping Loraine clean her brushes. As we stood together at the sink, the sound of running water filled the room. At that moment, I didn't know how to start a conversation, but she broke the silence. She carefully took all her brushes, and then she rolled up my sleeves, telling me that I might get wet at the sink, so I needed to keep my sleeves up.
I thanked her for her consideration. Later, I became curious about her other hand, as she always kept a glove on it. Her caretaker knocked at the door, signaling it was time for her to eat dinner.
The next day, I took the chance to ask Loraine about her right hand under the sycamore tree.