I decide to do a self-portrait. This time, not my vagina. Yeah, Wilson interpreted everything correctly. It was exactly what he thought it was, but so far from pornography, it’s laughable.
No, this self-portrait is my face—my swollen, red, tired, sad face, wet hair. All I need is a bandage around my head and I’ll be indistinguishable from late-stage Van Gogh.
But it is what it is.
At least painting gets me out of my head.
What feels like hours later, I get a text from Daphne downstairs.
Daphne
Sorry to bug you, baby, but can you come downstairs? I need to show you something.
Sorry, Daph. If it’s bad news, I can’t handle any more of it.
Daphne
I promise, this isn’t going to make your day any worse.
Dammit, Daphne.
I head downstairs and push into the gift shop, where Daphne is polishing a pottery display.
“What is it?” I ask.
I follow her to the back office, where she hands me a letter. “Courier delivered it this morning.”
“Courier? Is that still a thing?”
“I don’t ask those kinds of questions when a courier is standing right in front of me,” she says.
Unsure what this is about, I open the envelope and read the letter inside.
At the same time, Daphne narrates, clearly having read this letter five times and memorized it. As treasurer, she’s entitled to open any mail addressed to the arts guild.
“Dear Ms. Hutchinson, we are pleased to announce that Songbird Ridge is the latest recipient of our corporate grant for $2 million…”
“Wait a minute, are you sure this is real?” I ask.
I examine the letter and the envelope. The return address is from Evergreen Tools. Daphne nods. “It’s real. I just got off the phone with the district manager.”
“But I’ve never heard of this company…” I trail off because it does ring a bell. I’ve seen the name somewhere.
Suddenly, it hits me. While snooping around at Rowdy’s house, I saw a magnet with that name on the fridge. A coffee mug. A mousepad.
“The only condition is, they want to build an arts education center, where people can go to learn how to paint, how to make pottery, glass blowing, weaving.”
I stare at her quizzically. “That’s going to take a bigger amount than two million just to set that up.”
She shrugs. “All they said they needed was for the town to provide the land to build it on. Pete is already working on it.”
I stand there dumbfounded while Daphne explains all the ins and outs of this.
“How did this company find out about us?”
Daphne smiles. “They sponsored a table at the gala. After Rowdy left with Hodges, the executives from Evergreen Tools drove up the final price of every live auction item through bidding wars. I was going to tell you, but I was waiting until all the checks cleared. The town made so much money that this grant matches what we made last night. We have enough to keep everyone’s base salaries going, plus start a reserve fund for emergencies.”
I’m barely registering all of this. All I’m thinking about is the person I need to see next.
