About to insist, again, that she could do no wrong in my eyes, I stumbled as Sloane shoved me up the steps into the front room. Sucking in a sharp breath, I drifted closer to the mural and fought off tears.
Wide slashes of color made the vibrant meadow scene come alive. I could almost feel the breeze rustling the tall grass and bending wildflowers to its whims. Bailey, my first non-Sartori client, a golden retriever, cut a path through the center of the mural. Tongue lolling, she was joy personified. Other clients formed her pack, and I couldn’t help laughing with delight at the addition of a Chinese crested, a corgi, and a red miniature dachshund.
Fayne, Rían, and I had made it onto the wall, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.
“Oh look.” Sloane pointed out a familiar scarlet macaw flying high in the clouds. “It’s Harvey.”
Footsteps fell behind us, and Liam and Rían ventured in for their viewing.
Wiping my fingers under my eyes, I asked, “Who do I have to thank for the special additions?”
“That would be me.” Rían dipped his gaze to the floor. “I hope I didn’t overstep.”
“I love it.” I invited myself into his arms. “It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Thank you.”
“Do those tears mean I’ve earned my commission?” Clary peeked at me over Rían’s shoulder. “I was hesitant to touch your vision. I understand how important it is to turn out the agreed-upon product.”
“You made the right call.” A watery laugh escaped me. “I only wish I had thought of it.”
“Then maybe you won’t get too mad when I confess it’s not the only artistic license I took with your mural design.” She knocked on the wall, and Goldie swept into the room. “Would you like to do the honors?”
“Yes,” she gushed out, her eyes bright. “Stay right there, Ana.”
Quick as an imp, she pulled all the shades and flipped off all the lights.
Sudden darkness blanked my vision before subtle green luminescence filled the room.
A gasp parted my lips as the daytime race through the meadow transformed into a wild nighttime romp. Pale streaks of white gave the impression of the moon lighting their way. And hanging from Bailey’s mouth was a jar on a rope buzzing with dozens of green specks that spilled into the air through holes cut in the lid.
“You said you missed the lightning bugs.” Goldie stepped up next to me, her hands twisting in her shirt. “You can only see these at night, after you close the shop, but I thought…” She lifted a delicate shoulder. “You can only see real ones in the dark anyway, right?”
“Goldie, this is amazing.” Fresh tears filled my eyes, and I drew her in for a hug. “Thank you.”
“Reminds me of the stories my grandmother told me,” Clary murmured, her eyes soft on Goldie. “When I was her age, I lovedthe one about how Gran and her sisters collected pickle jars. They snuck out every night to roam the woods and capture pixies in them.”
Mouth falling open, Goldie stared at her. “Not actual pixies, right?”
“Gran always swore they were real, but I suspect they were hunting lightning bugs.”
“Oh good.” Goldie exhaled in a whoosh. “It would be sad to trap little people in jars.”
Sad for bugs too, which was why I had always set them free after an hour or two.
“Goldie here hit me with so much nostalgia for the days of hearing stories on Gran’s lap. That’s why I couldn’t resist the second bonus commission. I felt Gran would smack me from beyond the grave if I turned down a chance to help someone else remember the summer nights, bug bites, and?—”
“—pixies in pickle jars,” I finished for her, wiping my face dry with the backs of my hands. “Gah. I’m such a mess, but I really needed this today. You have no idea how much.”
“We should hold a grand reopening party.” Sloane clapped her hands. “We could offer free nail trims or something, like we do for Bark in the Park. Plus food. Lots of food. Oh! A costume contest. Let’s do one of those. Winner gets free trims for a year.”
“You’re giving away Ana’s money,” Liam pointed out. “Shouldn’t you ask her for permission first?”
“Ana and I are of one mind.” She scoffed. “I can see how you, not having one, would be confused.”
“Leave it to my little sister to outshine me,” a low voice whispered in my ear, spreading warmth through my middle. “I didn’t know you had a thing for fireflies.”
“They reminded me of will-o'-the-wisps when I was a kid. I thought they were pure magic. I would follow wherever they led me. They were my friends, for a few months out of the year.”There was more to the story than I had told Goldie. “Most pack hunts were held at night, you see, and I would be alone in that big house while everyone else ran together. I would hear them playing, and it reminded me I had no one. So, I would slip out after them and have my own adventures. Then I would rush home before dawn.”
“I’m not sorry Sartori is dead.”
