“Well, it’s not a done deal. It depends on the quality of your artwork, of course. I understand you went to art school. I figured you must have talent…”
“Well, yeah. I guess so. I hope it’s enough.”
“What’s your medium, or are you only doing photography?”
“No, I also paint.”
“That’s perfect. Her clientele are looking for one-of-a-kind works. A photo can be duplicated hundreds if not millions of times. A painting or sculpture—an original piece commands a higher price, and rightly so. I know it isn’t easy to make a living with fine art, but this might help.”
“So, you think I might make up some lost income that way?”
“I hope so. There are no guarantees. But she has discovered some well-known talents who have gone on to show in New York, LA, and internationally.”
“Oh.” Mallory felt a little stupid. How should she respond to an opportunity like this? Was the woman simply feeling sorry for her?Well, duh.She might as well have come right out and said so. But Mallory wasn’t about to let her pride get in the way. Would her stuff merit a show?
The lady must have read her mind. “Your boss said you went to Mass College of Art. He said you were overqualified for the mall position anyway.”
“He did? I mean, yeah. I went to Mass Art, but he said I was overqualified? Most artists have to do something else to pay the rent. I figured photography was more creative than pouring coffee.”
“Yes, you’re right. And it may be your creative mind that allowed you to speak to my husband. I really wish I hadn’t been so upset that day. I thought you were talking to my father-in-law, and we didn’t have a good relationship. I don’t know why I thought he’d care enough to watch over us. My husband, however, would have naturally been interested in our well-being. Despite certain family members thinking of me as a gold digger, it was a genuine love match. I miss him so much. You may not think of it this way, but you have a gift.”
Ah. Now I see what’s in it for her. She wants me to play “medium” and channel her dead husband.
“I’m afraid that may have been a one-time thing. I have no control over who comes through or why. It hasn’t happened very often, and that was the first time a spirit spoke to me.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to contact him. I’m just really sorry I ruined your life, and for such an unfair reason.”
She felt like she should protest the statement that she had ruined her life. That was a bit strong. So what if she couldn’t get a job taking photos of kids? She could do other things. She could learn to use those espresso and frothing machines and become a barista. Pouring coffee was a perfectly acceptable way to make an honest living. If worse came to worst, she could always ask if customers wanted fries with their fast-food orders. She wouldn’t starve.
“So, are you interested in a show of your work?”
“Hell—I mean, heck yeah! What do I need to do?”
“Just bring a few examples to my friend’s gallery. The paintings aren’t too big to transport easily, are they? I’d suggest a portfolio, but she likes to see the actual work when possible.”
“I paint all different sizes, and my boyfriend can probably help me get them there. How many do you think she’ll need to see?”
“Just bring your best two or three. The gallery is on Newbury Street, near Berkley. Do you know the area?”
Did she know it? That was just Boston’s premier address for designers, art galleries, and other expensive stuff. She couldn’t afford to get her hair done there.Holy crap.She had to take a breath in order to play it cool.
“Sure. I’m a native. Just give me her name, the name of the gallery, and if you have it, the phone number. I’ll call her and arrange a good time to bring some things over.”
“Oh good. Don’t put it off. She has a hole in her schedule she’s trying to fill. Some artist flaked on her and made plans to go to Paris a week before his show.”
Mallory silently thanked the absent-minded artist. Or maybe it was an excuse to cover the fact that he wasn’t ready. That would be the only way she’d miss her own gallery opening. Or panic. She always had to be on guard for her own self-sabotaging fear.
Mallory’s self-esteem wasn’t great, but she couldn’t imagine throwing away such an opportunity.
Now the pressure was on to make the most of this lucky break. She couldn’t let anything get in the way. Not dead people. Not male distractions, however pleasant. Nothing.Oh shoot.She had already told Dante she’d go to the Battle of the Badges basketball game. Well, it might not even be an issue if the woman thought her paintings sucked.
But maybe she’d love them! Showing in a major gallery was her long-term dream. Well, that and traveling to other bigger cities to do the same thing. She’d never thought it would come to fruition early like this. Mallory had to remind herself to breathe.
