He needs this.
By the time we’ve made it to the edge of the town square, I’m starting to worry.
He’s been quiet, every rejection winding him tighter andtighter until now, where I can see the tension along his back and his hands in his pockets, clenched into fists.
“Just one more,” I tell him, stopping at a final door. I can’t help but have hope this time, remembering his previous interaction with Mrs. Price. She seemed happy to see him back.
Maybe she’ll be happy enough to offer him a job.
Her shop is fairly new in town, stuffed between an insurance office and a clothing store. But I know the place well. Mrs. Price has offered to let Addie sell some of her work in the store here and there.
The bell chimes when we push through the door, and we’re instantly hit with the scent of paint and clay, masked by something warm. Will slows down inside the door, his eyes scanning the art on the wall.
Iris is standing at the counter, and I can’t help but smile when I see her.
She’s tall and thin, with dark hair falling down her shoulders, bent over a sketchbook on the counter, her pencil making light strokes, so lost in her art that she doesn’t even notice us.
She’s been wonderful to Addie since she moved to town. Giving her extra time, helping her learn so much in such a short time. Always encouraging her. I couldn’t ask for anyone better to be teaching my daughter.
“Dr. Murphy,” she says when she sees me, matching my smile and setting down her pencil. “What can I do for you?”
“Iris,” I greet her, stopping when I’m standing across the desk. “Is Mrs. Price here? I wanted to talk to her about finding a job for my brother-in-law.”
She shakes her head. “Diana’s family is visiting from out of town this week, so I told her I’d keep an eye on things when I could.” She gestures at the store, her eyes landing on Will without any judgment.
She must not know about him.
He’s standing a few feet back, looking at a shelf of mugs. His jaw is set, and it has been since the grocery store.
“This is Will,” I say. “He’s Jess’s brother.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” she says, her voice the same warm it always is when she addresses him. “Although I feel like I already know you. Addie talks about youa lot.”
Will looks over at that, a hand-painted mug that I didn’t see him pick up in his hands. “She does?”
“Constantly. She can hardly get anything done in class because she’s so excited to have you back in her life.”
He looks back at the mug in his hand, setting it down like he’s scared he’ll break it by holding it. “She’s talented,” he says, nodding at her half-finished drawing in front of her. “Did you teach her all that?”
“She was already talented when I started helping her,” Iris says, gesturing to the shelf off to the side, holding Addie’s paintings. “I sold two of her paintings about an hour ago. I keep telling her she needs to start pricing higher, but she won’t listen to me.”
“She won’t listen to me either,” I offer.
Iris looks between us, folding her manicured fingers together on the counter. “So. You said something about a job?”
“Right. We’ve been making the rounds, actually. Will’s looking for work, trying to get back on his feet and all.”
Iris gives me a small smile, her eyes going apologetic. “I’m sorry, Nolan, I wish I could help,” she says, and she does. I believe that. “But the store is still new, and I don’t think Mrs. Price could take on an extra salary right now. But I’ll ask anyway, of course.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Will says, his voice going back to the dejected flat tone it’s been sitting at all afternoon. “It’s fine.”
“If anything changes, you’ll be the first person we call.”
Will doesn’t say anything else, the sadness lingering behind his eyes. But I hope some of the good from today sank in anyway, for his sake. The people aren’t all bad here. Some even care about him.
Iris turns to me. “Tell Addie she can stop by whenever to pick up her money for the paintings.”
“I’ll send her tomorrow. Thanks, Iris.”
