anyone can whistle

—————-

Saenoo wasn’t much of a comic book buff, but even he knew that all the heroes she had listed were wrong. He stifled a laugh with the back of his hand and confirmed unconvincingly, “Yep, strong and independent. I believe in you.”

“Art is really dependent on the beholder. Just like how strangers can pass us by every day without a single glance, but someone who loves us sees things in us that we don’t see either. It’s kinda poetic,” he shrugged. 

Saenoo really despised those pretentious assholes who only revered popular artists or expensive artwork. They missed out on a whole world of feeling a broader range of experiences through the eyes of diverse artists around the world.

He turned to look at Freddie and added in a reassuring tone, “So if you say it’s good, then it’s good because you say it is. That’s it.”

Saenoo laughed at the chocolate croissant comment. He felt really good today, but even if he wasn’t feeling 100%, he thought Freddie could probably make him laugh regardless. “Yeah, nope, I wasn’t lying. I’ll buy you as many as you want.”

.

Something really stung Winifred in the chest at Saenoo’s words. They weren’t even hurtful, but it still hurt somehow. She wasn’t used to people saying such things about love and all that. Trying to cover it up, she rolled her eyes dramatically. “That must be what your secret family in Denmark thinks about you. It’s a good thing I keep myself unlovable, then. I’m completely unknowable,” she said with a light chuckle. 

She tossed her hair back trying to regain her composure. “I suppose you’re right, then. I do have superior taste to you in everything except art, so I will accept that as a consolation prize.”

They came closer and closer to the front doors of the coffee shop. “As many as I want? Saenoo, please, many men have tried to buy my affection, but few have succeeded. Still, I will let you try,” she told him, slightly poking at his side. Teasing him had quickly become one of her favorite hobbies. He made it so easy. 

To be honest, Callum doesn’t expect her to linger around the shop after she receives the ordered arrangement. The fact that she is holding down an actual job unlike the wealthier folks up in Avalon Circle is a surprise, but it’s clear that the blonde-haired girl wants as little to do with the Cove as possible, probably preferring to be tucked away in the fancy halls of the grand gallery.

(Funny how he’s getting defensive over his hometown. Angst-filled teenage Cal would never have believed this.)

Oh, yeah, his trousers are tailored alright. He does it himself. Thrift a nice pair, work the needle, adjust the waist and the length and what have you — and voilà. “What, can’t stand the idea of a local dressing better than you do?” he snickers, practically hearing Ada’s sigh of exasperation in his ear as he pokes fun at their customer. The tailored fit is difficult to see without a keen eye, though, and he wonders if she’s also interested in fashion.

“I never said,” he replies. “Callum. And you?”

Winifred dropped her jaw yet again in front of this man. Did he just imply she didn’t dress well? No he didn’t imply it, he just said it. “I-what?!” she exclaimed looking around. “Do they just let you people say anything to the people who come into the shoppe, then? Wish they let me do that at my job, Christ.” She crossed her arms across her chest defensively. “And I’ll have you know that this is what I just wear to work. I’m completely different off shift.”

She was really taken aback by the whole scenario, but she really couldn’t help smirking a bit. “Well, Callum. Nice to meet you... sort of. I’m Winifred, well, I mean, Freddie. Freddie is fine.”

The sudden change of subject throws Evelyn off-guard for a second as she tries to catch up. People aren’t usually so effusive when they realize she’s an American; more often than not, they assume that means she’s an obnoxious tourist. This is a welcome change.

“I am.” Ev smiles. “And I didn’t realize Florida’s notoriety has reached international heights - or lows, I suppose. You’re not being rude, by the way. Have you visited New York before?”

.

Winifred readjusted the strap of her bag with a smile. “Oh yes, loads. My dad’s a producer for musicals and all that, so I’ve been a few times.” Suddenly feeling uncomfortable speaking on her father, she tried to shift the subject. “What did you do to end up here, then?”

It started off as a normal day on the beach, really. Eliott took his linen bag of items– he was pretty minimalist when it came to what he brought. He never wanted to feel overwhelmed, so he only brought what he thought he might need. It may seem like the artist thing to do, but Eliott never sat by the shore to paint the ocean– no, he just liked the feeling it gave him to sit by the ocean. He liked that the beaches were sandy but also rocky, he liked that the air was crisp but also salty. He liked the feeling that the canvas had on it with the salt mixing with oils. It’s why he was there in the first place. He looked up at the voice, startling him a little bit. He had a smaller brush in his hand as he looked over at the girl next to him. The feeling of oil paint sat on his skin as he gave a small smirk to her, outer corner only really making an appearance. 

“Thanks,” He responded, nodding a little bit and noticing her bags. It was interesting to him how she had seemed to be unsure of herself. “They’re from a small art shop I used to go to back in France. Probably the best paint brushes I’ve ever used, and no one else can get them except from that shop. I’m pretty sure they hand-craft them. I think it’s really the trick. Do you paint?”

.

Winifred perked up as she registered his french accent. She hadn’t expected it from him. She kept thinking that everyone here was a local and she was the only fish out of water, but that was just a remanent of her more selfish mindset. “Wicked,” she replied, surprised at her own phrasing. What was she, her aunt in the nineties? “I mean, that’s really nice. Must be great to have an art shop like that nearby,” she sighed wistfully. 

“Oh, no. I mean, yes I do paint sometimes but not like well, or whatever. I just like art because of my mum.” Winifred wasn’t sure why she was near spilling her life story to this stranger. “I work at the Monmoth Art Museum just down the way.” 

Slugging her bag full of miscellaneous paperwork over her shoulder, Winifred left work slightly earlier than usual. She decided to take the more scenic route near the water as she walked home. What am I, a local? Ugh, how disgusting, she thought to herself as she made her way further and further down the path. Though it was actually rather pretty today, she had to admit to herself. Her walk slowed a bit as she stumbled upon someone sitting in front of an easel closer towards the water. She squinted her eyes, trying to see if it was someone she knew from the museum, but she didn’t recognize them. What they were working on looked nice, from what she could tell so far. While she didn’t consider herself an artist, she still did create art from time to time so she knew a thing or two about the workmanship of it. 

❂

He really should be nicer to the customers coming into the shop since, well, they are the customers ― still, Callum cannot resist the impulse to throw in a bit of cheek every now and then. “Not a fan of the Cove?” he quips, quirking an eyebrow at her brusque comment. Her clothes, all clean-cut luxury brands, only serve as additional evidence supporting his judgment. A tourist, perhaps. Or one of those kids  unwillingly dragged into staying at a quaint little town for vacation by their rich parents or relatives. Something like that.

His half-hearted guess soon turns out to be false, however. “Oh! You’re from the Art Museum.“ She lives here. That’s a surprise. "Just a minute, please.” Back on customer service mode, he digs through the notebook (because yes, they are running things the old-fashioned way and physically writing down the orders on paper, instead of organizing them nicely in a spreadsheet or whatever). The tiny mark next to the order means it has already been paid for; he only has to bring out the arrangement, stored in the refrigerator in the back.

“Here you go,” Cal says, returning with the huge basket. “It was in the fridge for like a day, so just let the flowers soak up the water for a bit, then they’ll bloom fully.”

Winifred raised a brow at the question. “It’s... alright,” she replied, repressing the thousand other words that rose to her mind first. She hated more of what the Cove represented to her than the actual place itself, but those lines got significantly blurred for her. “I’m just more of a city girl, I suppose.” 

She noted his tone of surprise when he found out she was from the museum. She could read the millions of assumptions he was making about her across his face. She can’t say she necessarily blamed him since she did look and feel rather out of place in this shop. In this town, more so. 

She smiled genuinely for the first time at the flowers he presented to her. They were rather pretty, and Winifred liked pretty things. She grabbed onto the basket, slightly startled at just how heavy it was. She swore at times she actually worked a manual labor job with the things they made her get. 

————

Pleased that she had accepted, Saenoo turned on his heels and walked a bit ahead of her. He exaggerated the swing of his arms, and whoever knew about his depression could tell by his body language that he was in an unusually chipper mood.

“How would the Brits do it then?” he replied. “Since you ‘lot” are so indirect.” He laughed, amused by his own usage of British colloquialism.

Saenoo opened the door and held it for Freddie while he answered her question, “I thought maybeeeee you never left actually, so instead of being impressed, I was worried.” He added, “We can’t be paying you that good…”

Wide Awake wasn’t just around the corner and would take a small walk to get there, but besides a staff meeting in a couple of hours, there wasn’t much to do anyway. Saenoo wondered briefly if Freddie actually had a pressing due date that they were both unaware of, but he let the thought pass. He’d cover for her.

The rest of the town was waking up, and the sky had turned from its warmer early morning colors to a true blue. It was mildly chilly, and Saenoo wrapped his cardigan around the front and crossed his arms. As they walked, he fell in rhythm with Freddie’s steps.

“What are some of your favorite pieces at Monmouth?” Saenoo didn’t mean to make it sound like some interview question, but he was genuinely curious. Freddie seemed serious enough about art in general, but what about it did she like?

Winifred could barely stifle a laugh at Saenoo’s use of British slang. It sounded so strange coming from him. She quickened her pace to keep up with his. Damn his much longer legs, she’d thought to herself. “You were worried about me? How adorable. Luckily I am a very strong person who can persevere through anything. Much like those superheros you Americans love. You know, Iron Lady, Brown Widow, all that.”

She smiled to herself walking along. This felt like friendship, not that she was very familiar with that feeling in the first place. She wasn’t sure if he thought the same of her. Perhaps he felt this was about all of the interns. Though, Winifred wasn’t sure if she actually knew what Saenoo was truly thinking at any given moment. He was a walking mystery to her and many others, though she was determined to chip away at that little by little. 

“Hmm,” she hummed as she pondered his question. She always knew a lot about art, but never really considered to have great taste in it. Not like her mother did. “I suppose the Seurat piece we have. There’s a musical about him, you know. It’s rather good, in my opinion. I just like how it looks so different depending on where you’re standing since it’s just a bunch of a dots n’ all that.” Suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious, she quickly added, “Not that I really know what’s good or not.”

It’s just him and the flowers overseeing the shop at this hour. There are supposed to be a few customers coming in to pick up their orders today, including the art museum up in Avalon Circle ― overall, shouldn’t be too difficult to handle. Callum is wiping the dirt and dust and random bits of dried leaves off the counter, jamming out to Alicia Keys playing in the background, when the soft chime of the bell alerts him to a customer entering. He turns on his heel, hastily stuffing the rag into the front pocket of his apron.

“At your service,” he drawls, sliding up to the unfamiliar blonde. “Of course we sell other things. Rocks, moss, cursed tree branches, dead leaves, mismatching flower petals, pocket knives—"

Winifred lifted her chin slightly when the employee turned around to face her. In the subtlest way she could manage, she glanced down before returning to his face. There was something different about him she couldn’t quite place, like it didn’t seem like she should of come across him in this town. She was positive she had never seen him around before in the three short months she’d been here.

Her jaw lowered ever so slightly as he began to rattle off. “Fascinating,” she breathed out with a terse laugh, getting the feeling that he was making fun of her. That was something she had a hard time with around here, people making fun of her in a lighthearted way. Her gut instinct was to be defensive since she grew up around rich kids and being made fun of by them had never been lighthearted. “How..quaint,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Though I think just about any tree branch found around here would count as cursed, but I digress.”

Clearing her throat, she continued. “I actually came to pick up an arrangement for the Monmouth, if you’re not too busy... sorting your pocket knives.”

Closing the copy of Romeo and Juliet that’s in her hand, Ama turns around. “I do work here, yeah,” she replies quickly, a half-smile on her face. She turns around again to put the book on its shelf. “Well, lucky for you, I know a thing or two about books. Name your job and what you’re looking for exactly, and I promise I can help ya’.” 

Winifred blinked twice and cocked her head to the side, “Perfect! I’m sent by the Monmouth Art Museum, I’m sure you know the one, and I need some books to put in our children’s area. Trouble is, I haven’t looked a child in the eye since the early 2000s, so I haven’t the faintest idea what they’re into these days. Would you happen to know a thing or two about that?”

“Yes, I am.” Evelyn answers, perhaps with a little too much gusto. She’s never been employed anywhere, and the chance to help someone find a new record is still novel enough to be exciting every single time it happens. “What can I help you find?”

“Perfect, I was wondering--” Winifred began before her brain suddenly switched gears without her even meaning to. “Wait, are you American? You sound American. You are, right?” she asked, wide-eyed. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude. I just never expected to meet an American here, of all places. God, I wish I was there instead of here. I mean like, New York- America, not like... Florida-America.”

Will turned around when he was tapped. “Me? Um… no,” he said, looking down at the way he was dressed. A button front and slacks weren’t exactly the right clothes to wear if you worked at a coffee shop. “I just need some caffeine. But is there something I can help you with anyway?”

“Really?” Winifred asked giving a very quick up and down to the man before her. “Guess you’ve just... got that look about you! Like you know espresso isn’t spelled with an x or something.” She let out a feeble laugh, slightly embarrassed. “Oh, I was just sent to get some coffee for my coworkers and I wasn’t sure what the best way to go about it. They’re always sending me out, because I’m an intern, which I guess nowadays is just a glorified servant! Who knew?! I mean I suppose, you probably already knew...” she trailed off, eyes widening to what she had said. “Not that I’m assuming anything about you, I don’t do that anymore, I don’t know anything about you. You could be a common criminal for all I know,” Winifred once again cut herself off, backing herself into a corner. “S’pose black coffee would be my best bet, then.”

Winifred carefully pushed open the door to Tulip and Isolde, hearing the slight jingle of a bell that must of been attached to the frame as she entered the store. Purse in the crook of her elbow, she slowly lowered her sunnies and took a quick look around the place. She was sent to get an arrangement that was meant for the museum, but she’d never actually been to the florist before. At the very least, it smelled rather nice. Her heels clacked noticeably as she walked up to what she assumed was an employee of some sort. “Hello, I assume you work here, right? Do you sell all flowers here, or just the ones in the title?” she asked with a tight smile, not entirely sure if she was joking or not. 

Full Name: Winifred “Freddie (Winnie if ya nasty)” Abbot

Pronouns: she/her/hers

Age: 25

Hometown: London, England

In so many words:

She’s a rich kid who got too big for her britches and was sent to the Cove by her parents in order to “get her life together”

She’s only been here for 3 months 

She’s the youngest of 3 and that’s very apparent in everything about her

She’s at a big turning point in her life where she doesn’t really know who she is and I’m really hoping to have her grow up through the help of the people she meets here

She can be annoying for many reasons, mostly since she is a snob and thought up until this point anyone that lived in a small town was probably a farmer

At her core she’s a true people pleaser and wants to be liked, but she’s so used to trying to impress other rich kids that she’s rusty on the charm and it can come off differently than she intended

She loves art, specifically theatre and visual art, since her dad was a West End producer and her mom an art collector

She even went to college for Art History and works as an intern at the art museum in town, but her knowledge of art is still very rich and western, so she has a lot of room to expand her horizons

She dabbles in art a bit herself, oil painting being her favorite, but doesn’t consider herself to be very good

I was inspired a lot off of Jane Austen’s Emma and also Cher from Clueless when I started writing her

So obviously she LOVES sticking her nose in other people’s business, especially playing cupid

In the end, she’s young, lost in life, a little annoying, and is still waiting a bit for her parents to come in an save her, but she has so much room to grow as a person!

Full bio here

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Potential plots/connections/relationships:

Anyone involved in the art world who might encounter her at the museum for literally any reason, be it they’re an artist themselves or just a frequent visitor

I can see her having a roommate in Fisherman’s Warf since she doesn’t have much money anymore. They would most likely butt heads a bit before maybe then forming a friendship? Depends on who, I suppose! But I think it would be a really interesting dynamic she would have with whoever she lived with

Some locals who can tell from a mile away she’s a fish out of water here and whether they would want to help her or would like to her move away as fast as possible lol 

She doesn’t quite know how to make friends here, but is still an extrovert so she’d probably frequent poke her nose into a lot of the local businesses to try and make up for that, so any business owners or employees I think she could have an interesting relationship with

Any two people that she thinks should date, lol, like I said she loves to play cupid and try and push two people together and that can help, but sometimes it can’t

Freddie was a party girl back in her hay day in university so anyone who she can let lose with from time to time she would try and make a fast friend

Any of the rich Avalon Circle type people she could have a bit of a love/hate relationship with because they remind her of her old life which is nice but also ouch

Just anyone who is the polar opposite from her I think would be a hilarious dynamic I’d love to have whether it’s enemies to friends or enemies to still enemies but we have a deeper understanding of each other

Or any ideas you might have! I honestly think there’s so much potential with all the awesome characters you guys have here there are endless ideas