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“I’m not the owner, but let me see.”
I opened the box for her and unwrapped the tissue paper. “Oh, I love these.”
She lifted the sea turtle so that the light coming in through the window caught. “Can I keep a couple to show the owner?”
“Absolutely.” I wrote my name and number on a Post-it and handed it to her. I wished my packaging was a bit more professional, but this was my first attempt.
She took a sea turtle and the starfish.
On the way out, I said, “Let’s go to one more store before we get lunch and paint.”
Maggie took my hand, and my heart squeezed. It was the first time while we were out that she’d done that. I usually took hers when we crossed the street, but this was different because she’d reached for me. Like she trusted me.
I wondered if any of our nannies loved us. There was one who’d seemed more invested than the others, but she still left and never contacted us again.
The third store sold plants, but they advertised other items for sale. I pulled open the heavy wood door, and a golden retriever was lounging in the doorway. He must have been older because he barely lifted his head and wagged his tail before settling back down.
Maggie petted him, murmuring what a good boy he was.
The shop was narrow, with plants on small shelves on either side. There were painted pots and candle waxes, canvas bags, and other small decorative items that declaredPlant Lady.
Stopping at the counter, I said, “I brought my mosaics in to see if you’d be interested in selling them. They’d look beautiful in the window there, and I could make flowers and plants if you’d like.” I opened the box, convinced she wouldn’t be interested. The shapes I’d chosen wouldn’t make sense here.
“I love these.” She held one up by the window. “Could you do a few flowers, smaller ones that I could hang?”
“Sure.” So far, I was being commissioned but not paid for any of my work. Irritation slid down my spine.
When we walked out, Maggie asked, “Did you sell any?”
“Not exactly. She wants me to make something different to fit the décor of her store.”
“You’re going to make flowers?”
“That’s right.” For some reason, I’d never done any, but then I’d always been drawn to the marine designs.
As we walked to the deli for lunch, ideas percolated in my head. I could do a flower with a stem, or just the head of the flower, and they could be hung in the window to catch the light. It was a smaller item, so that meant a smaller price point. Groaning, I said, “I completely forgot to ask about hosting workshops.”
That might have been because no one jumped at the mosaics. And the stores we’d gone into were on the smaller side. There wasn’t a separate space to host a class.
“You should wait to see if they want to sell your work.”
I laughed as I opened the deli door for her. “You’re super smart, you know that?”
Maggie nodded. “That’s what Daddy says.”
I stepped in behind her and got in line to order our usual. “Your daddy’s right.”
As we ate, Maggie watched the people walking by on the sidewalk, and I thought about what this morning meant. It was too early to declare it a defeat, but I was feeling a little low. If money weren’t an issue, I’d open my own store, sell my mosaics, and host classes. I had a feeling the classes would earn more money.
But money was an issue. I couldn’t afford to rent a space. Especially not when I was already committed to this job.
We finished eating, and I dropped off my mosaics in the car before we headed to the pottery shop. This time, Maggie picked a canvas and drew a gold dog like the one we’d seen in the plant shop.
“Do you think I could be an artist like you?” Maggie asked, her paintbrush poised over the canvas.
“Of course, you can.” I never thought of myself as an artist, more like a hobbyist who created mosaics on the side, but I guess she was right. Plus, I wasn’t selling my work. Didn’t you have to profit off your work to be considered a real artist? I had no idea.
“What would I make?” She patted her finger on her lip, leaving a smear of paint.
