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Colette checked her watch. “OK. But not too long. We both need to get a good night’s sleep.” She hoped she would be able to sleep. As exhausted as she felt, her mind was racing at a hundred miles a minute.
The waitress returned to collect their plates. “Anyone for dessert?”
“Ice cream, please?”
“Sure. Why not. We’re on an adventure.” Colette smiled. “A scoop of chocolate for me, and a scoop of vanilla for Max.”
“Very good. I’ll be right back.” She was about to remove the place mat but Max stopped her. “Please, can I keep it?”
She looked at Colette.
Colette saw that it hadn’t been soiled too much. Just a few dribbles. “Of course.”
“A suberneer.” He meant souvenir, but his mispronunciation was endearing. Neither corrected him. It was the sentiment that was important.
They finished their ice cream, Colette paid the check, and they walked back to the motel, Max skipping a few feet ahead. Colette stopped at her car before they went to the room. She wanted to get the notebook and the road atlas. She opened the trunk, retrieved the books and then closed the trunk. They walked from the parking lot into the motel lobby. Max pushed the button to bring the elevator to the first floor. On the ride up to their room, Colette thought she’d study one book and try to unravel the meaning of what was written in the other while Max watched a movie.
“Go put on your pajamas and brush your teeth.” Colette ruffled Max’s hair.
“OK, Mom.” He opened his backpack and pulled out his pj’s and toothbrush. “Toothpaste?”
Colette handed him the tube. “Remember the rules?”
“Don’t squeeze hard.”
“And?” she urged.
“And put the top back on!” Max grinned.
“Right-o.”
Max marched into the bathroom. He could barely reach the sink, but he wasn’t going to say anything to his mother. He wanted her to think he was a big boy. He struggled to reach the faucet, but he was determined. Much like his mother.
He climbed onto the lid of the toilet seat and reached over. One twist, and a big splash of water came out and hit the sink with so much force, it splashed all over his pajama shirt. He tried not to panic. He didn’t want to upset his mother, but he knew that if he tried anything less than the truth, it would make her sad. “Mom!” Max yelled.
Colette ran to the bathroom. “What? What happened?”
He turned to face her. His eyes welled up in tears. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
He called her “Mommy.”Colette’s eyes also welled up in tears. She gave him a big hug. “It’s OK, sweetie. Come on, let’s put a dry shirt on you.” Colette knew it had been a stressful day for both of them.
Colette picked out one of theToy Storymovies for him to watch. He had probably seen it a half dozen times, but he always wanted more. Colette tucked him into the bed next to hers. She was glad they had a double room. She knew she would be up for at least another hour mapping out her route for the next day. Once she got to Cranberry Lake, she would stop at a local market or gas station and ask if someone could direct her to Clive Dunbar’s cabin.
She thought about her approach and did a personal inventory. She was a slender, attractive woman in her late twenties. She was dressed well and had a small son with her. Truly, no one would think she was menacing in any way. She would also explain she had something from her former employer, who died recently, to give to Mr. Dunbar. She wasn’t sure how much information she would have to give away to get his address, so she rehearsed what she would say. “Hello, my name is Colette Petrov. I am looking for Mr. Clive Dunbar. My former employer, Mr. Randolph Millstone, was one of his clients. He died recently, and I have something Mr. Millstone wanted to pass along to Mr. Dunbar.” That was a perfectly reasonable explanation for the request. If she were really lucky, they might have met Mr. Randolph on one of his trips to the cabin.
She looked over at Max. His eyes were fluttering, and he soon drifted off to sleep. Colette lowered the volume of the television and pulled out the road atlas. There was an entire page devoted to the Cranberry Lake area. How she was going to find one cabin in the entire area would be a challenge. She pulled out her laptop and putCranberry Lake/Foodinto Google. Several results popped up with virtual pushpins. She wrote down the names and addresses of a few of them. She would plug the information into her GPS when they got in the car in the morning. Colette got up, turned on the light in the bathroom, and closed the door halfway in case one of them had to get up during the night. After a day like the one she just had, waking up in a strange place could be quite disorienting. She switched off the television and the lamp next to her bed, and hoped she would be able to get some sleep. She had to be on her best game for the next part of this “adventure.”
Chapter Fifteen
Stillwell Art Center
Two weeks after the grand opening
The ebb and flow of attendance was still hard to predict. There was a huge turnout on the opening weekend, which is normally the case. And the following weekend was also bustling. New place. New stuff to see. New stuff to buy. The center hours were eleven to seven Wednesday and Thursday; ten to ten Friday and Saturday; and noon to five on Sunday. The shops were at liberty to make their own hours, but Ellie encouraged them to be open when there was a regular flow of people. She knew she had to find more support staff for the busier hours, but they hadn’t been open long enough to figure out exactly what hours those would be.
The local university had a community-credit program that allowed students to earn credits for working at certain nonprofits in a number of disciplines. Ellie Stillwell was delighted when they assigned her one student for each artist, and four as pages. Having an apprentice or student would enable the artists to continue to work while someone minded the store, so to speak.
It would be a wonderful opportunity to learn about art and business. A delicate combination. Many artists have no interest in the business end of things.
