The canvas reflected the blues of the sky that afternoon, and one big, puffy, popcorn cloud that had hung to the east. He’d captured the lush greenery of the gardens. Some considered milkweed to be just weeds, but they sustained the monarch butterflies, who were surely having a party that day. He’d worked so hard to capture the vivid colors and movement across the meadow.
The elevator pinged, pulling him from his daydream and announcing that Matthew had company.
Skip stepped out, carrying two paper cups of coffee. “Good morning. Wasn’t sure if you still wanted to work on the mural after last night but figured at the very least you’d be up for a coffee with a friend.”
“Good morning.” He walked over and took one of the cups. “Thanks.”
“How’d the night end? Travis was fit to be tied, wasn’t he?”
Matthew took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Rightfully so. A few buyers walked out. Those sales might be lost for good. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
“A shame.”
“I was able to talk to the man before he got in the cab,” Matthew said. “Their family has been struggling over his son for a long time. Him being selected for my project made a difference. How can anyone be mad at that?”
“With all the crazy stuff going on in this world, you can’t blame people for walking out when someone is acting unpredictable. Especially in an art gallery. People are usually on their good behavior there.”
“True. Travis has the right to pull my show, but I hope he won’t,” Matthew said.
“But you had no control over that. Sorry, man.”
“I’ll land on my feet. Always do.” Matthew shook his head and laughed. “That’s what artists do, right? We find the good in the middle of all the crazy. Like you marrying a woman way, way,wayout of your league.”
“That had to be at least one too many ‘ways.’” Skip slugged Matthew in the shoulder. “Don’t think for a second I don’t know I hit the jackpot, though. She’s great. You’re going to love her.”
“I’m sure I will. I’m truly happy for you.” He tapped his coffee cup to Skip’s. “So let me get you a shirt worthy of getting ruined and some smocks so we can get to work. We’ve got a wall to paint.”
Matthew and Skip walked down to the mural site where Matthew had left his truck loaded with supplies the night before. Morning traffic was stop and go, so walking was faster anyway this time of day. Pedestrians paraded the sidewalkdressed in light, breezy attire more appropriate for the warmer temperatures the meteorologist promised today.
“Wow! You’ve got a great start,” Skip said as the mural came into view. “Well done.”
“At least this one is stationary and doesn’t need to be hung. I don’t know how you manage moving around those big paintings you’ve been doing.”
“Box truck. That’s what I drove up from Florida to pick up the ones from your house. News flash. I’m sort of abandoning the giant canvas phase I’ve been in. It’s too hard to get showings, and the people that have houses big enough for my paintings don’t need so many of them.” Skip grabbed a tool bucket and threw a sweat towel over his shoulder.
“Your paintings bring good money when they sell, though,” Matthew said.
“Yeah, it’s been a wonderful ride, but it’s time to shift gears,” Skip said. “And you, better than anyone, understand the calling of an artist has nothing to do with money.”
“That I do.” They walked through the small courtyard.
Skip stopped near the scaffolding. “I see where the paint landed.” He looked at the ground, kicking his toe through a bluish slurry in a puddle. “That’ll sweep right away.”
Matthew leaned back, surveying the area of the wall they’d painted yesterday before the storm. “I can’t believe it didn’t wash away more than it did.” He pointed out a few areas to Skip. “I’ll get you to repaint those areas. That would be a huge help. It would be nice if when the high school team gets here they don’t feel like they’re completely starting over from where they were yesterday.”
“I got it.” Skip started popping lids and retouching the areas.
By the time the students arrived at two thirty that afternoon, they pretty much had everything back to where it was before the storm came through.
Matthew climbed down from the scaffold. “Skip, let me introduce you to my team. I handpicked them from local high schools.”
Five guys and one girl lined up with proud smiles, like soldiers ready to go.
“Excellent.” Skip gave them a quick wave as he set down his roller. “I’m Skip. Matthew and I go way back to our college days together. So you all know that slinging burgers would be a lot easier than being an artist, right?”
They laughed, and the girl spoke up. “I’m Cammy, and I will never sling or serve burgers. I’m a vegetarian, so put me in the park with a paintbrush any day. I’d do this for free.”
“Shh.” Skip looked over his shoulder to Matthew. “Don’t tell him that.”
