She grins wide.
“Nope.The big triptych of Silence.”
The triptych she’s referring to is technically three paintings that together form a panoramic view of the town and the entire valley.It’s a large piece, which is why we put it up on the long wall.
“Who bought it?”
She looks around.“He seems to have disappeared.It was an older gentleman.I can’t recall ever seeing him in town before, but he said his name is Peter Abel.Lola took his payment and said he told her he’d be back in the morning to pick it up.”
“That’s amazing.That deserves a toast,” I announce.
“What are we toasting to?”Hugo asks as he approaches.
“Phil sold a painting.”
She bumps my shoulder.“We sold a painting,” she corrects me.“The first clank of coins hitting the bottom of our Silence Community Fund.”
Hugo reaches over, plucks a couple of glasses of champagne off the table, and hands them to us, before grabbing one for himself.Then he lifts his glass to us.
“Well, that certainly deserves congratulations.”
Chapter29
Bess
I hum alongwith a Stevie Nicks tune on the radio as I drizzle some lemon icing on my coconut squares.
It was a real treat to come in early this morning and find the kitchen—which I never got around to cleaning up last night—in immaculate condition.I’m sure that was courtesy of Lola, who I insisted take the day off today.She’s been working her butt off, and I’m excited for her to discover the raise I’m giving her on her next paycheck.Emmet gets a bump too, but Lola has really stepped up during construction, but also in getting the shop ready to open when I was still mostly focused on looking after Hugo.Hers will come with the brand-new job title of manager as well, and Emmet will be offered the option of going full time.
I’m happy to be doing the bulk of the baking, if that means I can be home at a reasonable hour.But Lola has already proven herself capable in the kitchen, able to follow a recipe and do the baking herself, so if I wanted to take a day, or a few days off, business would keep running as normal.
It’s funny, I wouldn’t have even considered taking a vacation before, but Hugo mentioned something about always having wanted to visit the East Coast, and now it’s all I can think about.Maybe in September, after the height of the summer season, but when it’s still nice out.
Grabbing the tray of pastries, I walk into the coffee shop, sliding the tray into the display case.This morning, we have jalapeño cheese scones, morning glory muffins, blueberry crumble muffins, apple Danish, and the lemon coconut squares I just finished.Next, I will tackle the sourdough bread, which has been rising in the proofing drawer.
I glance at the new painting Phil put up after the party last night to replace the triptych, which is now wrapped in brown paper, leaning against the wall in the back hallway, waiting to be picked up.I haven’t turned on all the lights, but there’s enough to see the new piece.It’s a single, large painting featuring Angus, Brant Colter’s goat, stealing colorful underwear off a clothesline, with a familiar view of the creek and mountains in the background.I smile remembering the funny story that signaled the start of Brant and Phil’s unlikely pairing, which inspired this painting.
I turn to head back to the kitchen when I’m stopped with a knock on the front door.I see an older man wearing glasses and one of thosePeaky Blinderscaps.I have no doubt this is the buyer, Peter Abel.Lola mentioned the cap.
Dismissing a brief feeling of apprehension, I unlock the door, poking my head outside.
“Mr.Abel?”
I notice the man is alone.At the curb, a gray sedan is parked with its trunk already open.
“I’m sorry, I know I’m early,” the man apologizes right off the bat.
“No, no, that’s quite all right,” I hurry to assure him, opening the door wide.“Please come in, your painting is packed and ready to go.”
He enters, taking his cap off as he passes me.I quickly close the door and follow him inside.
“It’s in the back hallway.Let me get it for you.”
Slipping past him, I duck into the back hallway and grab the wrapped paintings off the floor, but when I turn I almost bump into him.He’s followed me back here.
Unlike the coffee shop, the hallway is well-lit and it’s the first time I get a good look at Peter Abel.He’s balding, something I hadn’t noticed earlier, and there is something familiar about him.
“You know, you look just like your mother.”
