“Fantastic! Honestly, I can’t thank you enough. The money will definitely help.”
“Great. I hope one of you will call and tell me how things are working out.”
“Thanks, Helen. I’ll do that. By the way, how is your friend? The one who told you about me?”
“Ah, yes. She’s just fine. Seeing Mike’s face was a shock, but after her initial reaction, she was happy to have another picture of her beloved husband.”
“Have? You mean she bought it?”
“Yes. That’s only one of several paintings you sold.”
“Please refund her money. I’d like to give it to her as a gift.”
Helen chuckled. “You won’t make a living that way. Seriously. As a professional, you have to learn to place value on your art. They’re paying for your time, your talent, your supplies, everything. Could they own that piece without all you did?”
“I guess not.”
“That’s right. She knows that. She paid for it because she wanted your interpretation of the subject matter. No one forced her to buy it.”
“Maybe she just didn’t want anyone else to have it.”
“You’ll never know why anyone buys or doesn’t buy your work. And to be honest, that’s none of your business. Your job is to provide it. That’s all.”
They said goodbye, and Mallory tucked her phone back into her purse. She rejoined the other two people in the kitchen. Dante was sitting at a stool, sifting flour into a bowl.
“Guess what?” she said brightly.
“What?” Dante asked without looking up. He wore a lopsided smile, as if he knew exactly what was up.
“I may have a job designing fabric!”
He set the sifter down and caught her in his arms, giving her a strong, reassuring hug. “I knew it! I knew that gallery show was just the start.”
She tipped her head and studied him. “How did you know?”
“That someone would snap you up if they saw your work? I didn’t know for a fact, but I believed it would happen. I believe in you.”
After sharing a quick kiss, he whispered, “The question is, do you believe in yourself yet?”
She smiled, realizing that she did. “I could do it.”
“Do you want to?”
“Of course I want to. I think it sounds like fun. And how exciting would it be to see my paintings on someone’s dress or purse or shoes?”
“Or butt,” said Antonio as he entered the kitchen from the man cave downstairs.
Mallory giggled.
“Hey, Dad. I didn’t know you were home.” Dante rounded the counter and gave his dad a hug and a slap on the back.
“Oh, I’m here pretty much all the time.”
“I thought you still went down to the station, just to hang out and shoot the breeze with the guys.”
“Yeah, well, most of my contemporaries have retired. I don’t know the new guys very well.”
“Don’t you have a son in almost every fire station?” Mallory asked.
