Radiant

Squeezing through the crowd, Siobhan Dempsey headed toward the back of the large space in the direction of the food.

“You gotta try the dumplings.”

Siobhan turned to see Wendell stuffing his face a few feet away. She lifted an amused eyebrow. Ever since she’d moved to Detroit about a month ago and met the happy-go-lucky street artist, Wendell had only talked about two things: food and the building they were currently in.

“I don’t gotta to do anything,” Siobhan replied with a grin, opting to grab a small sandwich and some fruit instead.

Once he had found out Siobhan wasn’t a fan of Chinese food, Wendell had made it his mission to get her to at least try one of the dumplings from a local spot down the block from their apartment building. Between that and attempting to save the building—and, more important, the beautiful mural on its side—from destruction, Wendell had had his hands full. At least he’d been successful at one of his endeavors. “Untrue. You need to celebrate.”

“And celebrating means drinking,” Lilah slurred as she handed Siobhan a cup of…

“What is this?” Siobhan asked, bringing it to her nose and inhaling. She winced when the scent burned her nostrils.

Her roommate leaned in to give Siobhan a nudge, but she lost her balance and nearly fell into the table. “It’s moonshine. Jesse’s been making it for months. He’s gotten pretty good at it the last week or so.”

“I don’t even know who Jesse is,” Siobhan said.

“Woo!” Lilah called loudly as she waved a hand in the air. “Hey, Jesse! Jesse!”

After a moment, a blond-haired guy in a white T-shirt and gray vest gave her a nod and held his drink up.

“That’s Jesse,” Lilah said.

“Yeah, I got that,” Siobhan said with a laugh.

“Try it,” Lilah urged. “It’s totes drinkable.” Then she nodded dramatically, as if it would strengthen her argument. “You can trust me.”

Siobhan narrowed her eyes and tilted her head playfully. “Mmm, why do I feel like that’s not true?”

“Listen, Brooklyn,” Lilah said, giving Siobhan a bump with her hip. “We took you in and gave you a home. The least you can do is try Jesse’s moonshine.”

Siobhan laughed at the way Lilah made her sound like a stray kitten. “I’m not really sure how those two things are related to each other, but screw it. We’re celebrating, right?” She put the cup up to her lips and drank in long gulps, holding her breath. It did nothing to disguise the flavor.

“Yes!” Lilah yelled. “I knew you had it in you, Brooklyn.”

When she couldn’t take any more, Siobhan pulled the cup down and shivered. “Jesus, that stuff tastes like rubbing alcohol and shoe polish.”

Wendell held out a dumpling to her. “You know what’ll cover that taste right up?”

Laughing, Siobhan pushed his hand away. “Get away from me with that.”

“Fine,” he said. “More for me.”

“This is an awesome turnout,” Siobhan said. “I had no idea you guys had this many supporters.”

“Yeah, I mean, we had thousands of signatures on the petition that circulated around social media, but this is pretty crazy,” he said, gesturing to the artists mingling throughout the building.

“So what happened? The city just agreed not to tear it down? I tried to get the story from Lilah, but that’s like asking a toddler if they want to go to the zoo. All I got were partial sentences and squeals of delight.”

Wendell pulled on the long curly hair on top of his head and laughed. “Someone actually bought it. Thank God there are people who still believe that art is a worthy cause, or this place would be rubble right now.”

“Yeah, no kidding. It’s nice to finally be in a place that supports what we’re doing. The art community here is amazing.” Until Kayla, another artist from New York, had told her about Detroit’s art scene, Siobhan hadn’t realized how important artists were to the revitalization of the city. But she was happy she’d finally found somewhere that felt like home. “So what’s the person going to do with this place?”

Wendell shrugged. “Not sure. But they must have agreed to renovate it into some sort of a usable space, or the city wouldn’t have agreed to sell it.”

“Yeah, and the buyer definitely has their work cut out for them.” She looked around the room at the beat-up walls and concrete floor. But leave it to a bunch of artists to still make it look presentable for a party. The place didn’t look half bad, considering its actual condition. Then Siobhan thought of a question she wasn’t sure she should ask. But she did anyway. “How do we know the buyer won’t paint over the mural when they renovate?”

“The city released a statement saying that stipulation was included in the terms of sale. Gotta love how they tried to save face with that one. They were two seconds from tearing the place down, but a buyer shows up and they refuse to sell until she agrees to keep the mural. Politics—ain’t it grand?”

“I’m just happy she let us have the party here and even turned on the electricity for us.”

“She? You know it’s a woman who bought it?”

Wendell grinned broadly. I don’t know. I’m just hoping. I feel like it’s destiny, ya know? Like me and my mystery lady are meant to be together. I can see it now. Art-loving hottie revitalizes city and falls in love with passionate kid from—”

“You’re thirty-three.”

Wendell looked offended. “You’re ruining my fantasy.”

“Sorry.” Siobhan laughed and waved across the room when she saw her friend Daphne arrive. Like Siobhan, Daphne was an expressionist painter, and she had helped Siobhan get her work into a few of the galleries in the area. Siobhan had even sold two pieces. “I’ll talk to you later, okay? Daphne just got here, and I need to talk to her about the exhibit next weekend.”

“Okay, okay. I see how it is,” Wendell replied with a smile.

Siobhan made her way through the crowd, stopping briefly to chat with a few people she hadn’t seen since she’d first gotten to Detroit. She had almost reached Daphne when her phone rang. It was Marnel.

Siobhan hadn’t talked to her friend on the phone since she had left New York. They’d texted back and forth a ton and connected through social media, but she hadn’t actually spoken to her in more than a month.

“What’s up, hooker?” Marnel said when Siobhan answered.

“Hey! It’s so good to hear your voice. I miss you.” Siobhan moved toward the door and stepped outside so she could talk without yelling over the music.

“We miss you, too,” Blaine chimed in. “We’re all here. We’re just about to leave for the night. Saul hired some girl named Jill as your replacement. She’s awful. Constantly dropping stuff and messing up the phone lines.” Blaine paused. “Actually, I guess that makes her a lot like you.”

“I hate you.”

The girls laughed. “But enough about work. What are you up to?” Marnel asked.

“Just standing outside of an abandoned building. You?”

There was silence for a moment before Marnel spoke again. “Siobhan, I know you’re struggling, but you need to draw the line somewh—”

“There’s a party inside, asshole. I just stepped out so I could hear.”

“A party in an abandoned building?” Marnel said. “Why’d you go halfway across the country for the exact same thing you can get in Brooklyn?”

“Stop.” Siobhan rolled her eyes. “It’s pretty cool, actually.” She told the girls about the mural and the building. “The person who bought it let us throw a party here to celebrate. My friend Wendell thinks the buyer is his future wife.”

“Sounds like you like it out there,” Cory said.

Siobhan smiled and leaned against the wall. “I do. It’s been good for me. I’ve been able to show some of my work and even sold a few paintings. The art community’s really welcoming. You guys should come out sometime.”

“Yeah, definitely. You should come back here at some point, too,” Marnel said. “Maybe for my birthday.”

“Yeah, that’d be fun.”

“Do you miss it at all?” Cory asked.

Siobhan thought for a moment. “I think I miss the idea of New York more than I miss the city itself. The vision I had in my mind before I moved there didn’t quite match the reality.”

“You mean your dream wasn’t to bring menus to the wealthy?” Cory asked.

“Not exactly.” The mention of the Stone Room and the people who frequented it brought thoughts into her mind that she’d somehow been able to avoid for the better part of the last month or so.

“So I have to ask,” Marnel said. And by the hesitation in her voice, Siobhan knew what was coming next. “Have you heard from him?”

Hefting her bag higher onto her shoulder, Siobhan waited for the light to turn green so she could cross the busy intersection. As she transferred her weight from one foot to the other, her impatience escalated. She needed to paint.

The phone call from the girls the night before had kickstarted an emotional storm of Dust Bowl proportions. Every thought was hidden beneath a thin film of all things Derick.

As she continued walking toward her studio, Siobhan cursed Marnel for approximately the five-hundredth time. She had tried so hard to actively not think of Derick over the past month, and it had been working. Perhaps she hadn’t been completely happy yet, but she’d been getting there. Making new friends, finding a well-paying job, and having her art be well received had all been major stepping-stones toward an improved mood.

But now she was grumpy. And tense. And…sad. Damn Marnel.

Siobhan turned her head to look into her favorite coffee shop. Since she’d barely slept the night before, she could use some tea to give her some energy. But as she gazed in the window, her heart nearly leaped out of her chest. She jerked to a stop, not because of what she saw through the window but because of what she saw reflected in