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For all Elena’s easy-going nature, she also knows when to show her hand and when to hold it. “I think it might be, but I’d like to review your management proposal with my current financial advisor. He’s ready to move on from the amount of work I take.” She pats her silver bob carefully with a smirk as though she’s the problem, not the size of her portfolio. “But I’ve worked with him for enough years to trust his opinion.”
Carter’s bright smile fades by a few degrees, but quickly, he forcefully turns it back on full-throttle. “Of course. That’s a smart plan. I’d be happy to meet with both of you if that’d be helpful. I can answer any questions you might have.”
“That’s mighty kind of you. I’ll get that scheduled.”
There’s an awkward moment of silence, and I rush to fill it, wanting to help Carter if I can but also show my appreciation. “Elena, I have enjoyed seeing so much of Thomas’s collection. It’s so special, with pieces I haven’t even seen in books. Have you ever considered doing an exclusive exhibit at the museum? It would be a great way to honor him.” I wave my hands through the air, sort of doing the ‘premiere rainbow’ move. “The Thomas and Elena Cartwright Collection.”
Elena, who’s licking syrup off her finger with a smack, says, “I hadn’t thought of anything like that. The art is mostly a part of the décor at this point. It’s there, I see it, but I don’t see it, you know?”
Nodding in understanding, I add, “It could be as large or small as you’d like, showing whichever pieces you’d feel comfortable not being in their ‘home’ for a little bit. We could even do the plaque info together, telling people exactly what you’d like to share about each piece.”
“I’ll have to give it some thought. I don’t know if I could be apart from any of them. They’re like Thomas’s babies.” Elena puts her hand over her heart, and her smile turns sad. “It feels good to have them surrounding me, like he’s still here in a way.”
“That makes perfect sense. No pressure at all, just let me know. I’d love to work with you to share his love with the world, but only if you’re comfortable with it. I’m honored to get to see his ‘babies’ at all.”
It’s the absolute truth. There are pieces I saw last night that will stay with me for the rest of my life, and while I’d love for others to have the same opportunity to see them, I’m protective of my art too, both my own and what I’ve collected from other artists.
Elena pats my hand. “Will do, honey.” Changing the topic, she says, “You know, if y’all are done eating, I believe I promised a bit more of a tour. I thought Miss Grace might like to visit the barn?”
Elena and I have no idea of the bomb she just detonated, but Carter plugs his ears quickly as Grace squeals, “Yeeessss! Do you have horses? And goats? What about chickens?”
Grace is up from the table, tap dancing her feet and ready to go while she interrogates Elena about the full roster of animals in the barn around a mouthful of pancakes. “My barn has a mouser cat named Cricket. Do you have a cat?”
She doesn’t wait for an answer before she keeps speed-talking, hopefully swallowing somewhere along the way. “Pegasus is afraid of Cricket ’cuz Cricket tried to jump up on Pegasus’s back for a little ride around. Weird that she’ll let me on her back, but a tiny cat? Nope, not having it.” She shakes her head, already walking out the back door, still rattling on.
Elena’s listening, walking with Grace’s hand in hers, and Carter and I abandon what’s left of our pancakes to follow a few steps behind. “Sorry you didn’t get the deal yet,” I whisper. “You okay?”
His jaw tenses but he nods. “Yet is the operative word. I haven’t given up. I’ve barely started to woo her.” A few more steps, and he takes my hand in his. “You know what that means, right?”
Dumbly, I ask, “What?”
He stops, guiding me to do the same. Toe to toe, he tips my chin up so our eyes meet. “It means,” he says in rough whisper right next to my ear, “that you have to be my wife for a bit longer.” He presses a soft kiss to my cheek while I freak out on the inside, my brain beginning to process this new information.
What? No! That’s not part of the deal. I’ve seen the art, and now we’re done. This sham marriage is finished, and I can go back to my quiet life.
“Aww, you lovebirds are adorable as two June bugs in a jumper, but you’d best come on or me and Miss Grace are gonna beat you to the barn.” With that, Elena and Grace start galloping toward the barn like they’re horses, Peanut Butter nipping at their heels as they go. Elena is remarkably spry for her age, though Grace is several feet ahead.
