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“Oh, there are no ghosts here. I’ve checked.”
What?I felt my eyes pop, but Lillian wasn’t looking at me. She was moving back toward her desk.
“I’m very superstitious,” she explained over her shoulder. “I had the whole building swept before I bought it. You’re safe here.” Her voice came out muted as she disappeared back into the closet with what I now saw to be a flashlight.
“Oh.”Not at all what I was expecting her to say.I got up and walked toward her to see if I could help with anything.
Her head popped out from behind some shelves. “Is Lira coming back?”
“I’m not sure. I never really know when she’ll come back from any of her trips.”
“I see.” She stared at me for a bit before going back to whatever she was doing.
“Do you want me to call anyone to come help?”
“No, there is no one on a Friday who will come out last minute, and they charge too much for the weekend. I’m afraid I’m all there is for this old building. I’m maintenance, office manager, and everything that goes with owning a small business.”
I smiled. She reminded me so much of Ah Po. Calm, regal, and all business. “I thought you might have closed today.”
“Never. I would have messaged you if that was the case.” Something behind the shelf shook, and a loud pop sounded, making me jump.
“The storms we’ve been having this year have really caused havoc. The electricity has been going on and off for two weeks now,” Lillian explained.
I ventured inside the closet, noticing it was a be-all end-all in here, with cleaning supplies, a circuit breaker, and pipes running in one wall and out another. I stepped up to the shelf. “Can I help with anything? I could set up—”
“Oh, don’t come in; it’s a mess in here. I think the lights will be stable for today.” She walked out from behind the shelf and passed me on her way back into her office.
I took one last look at the shelf, but everything did look to be stable, and Lillian didn’t seem to be worried at all.
“A new one just arrived today,” she called out. “I was hoping you could tell me where it should go, as I thought they had all arrived already, so this is an extra one with no home as of yet.”
What in the world was she talking about?“Did you say a new painting arrived today? I thought all of them arrived already too. Lira was here selling them last week.”
“She was, but this new one arrived today without instructions. Your father had given very specific instructions on which paintings should be in what order on the wall, so I’d like for you to make sure this one is in the right place, please.”
I groaned. This was why Lira left—Dad was in another one of his moods. His paintings were always one-offs, no sequence to them whatsoever. Even the clients who requested commissioned work never knew when he was going to deliver. Yet, people put up with him. All except Lira. She ran for the hills as soon as plans changed.
“Is the new one already in the gallery?” I asked Lillian.
“Yes, it’s been unpacked and temporarily hung in the back right where another one sold last week.”
I’m sure it’s fine.The fact that he insisted the paintings be displayed in a particular order made me wonder what paintings had been delivered. Lira had taken care of everything up to this point. I had found a gallery in Crystal Lake, but Mom deemed it too small. Lira was the one who insisted Tahoe City would be a better location.
We walked down the hallway to the gallery itself, and I was happy to see that everything looked in place. When people walked in, they would see a big photo of Dad introducing them to his art.
I shook my head at the explosion of color in the room. True to Dad’s whimsy, they had painted every wall with a different color, offsetting whatever painting was hanging there.
Feeling my phone ring in my pocket, I looked down and saw ‘Dad’ lighting up the screen. Typical; he had to ring when I was seeing to the rogue painting. I sighed and answered the phone. “Hi, Dad.”
“Well, don’t sound too grumpy hearing from me. I heard you’ve been in charge this week. Is that right?”
“Yes. Lira bailed. But don’t worry, it looks fantastic.”
“Give your sister some space. You know she can’t handle the pressure like you can.”
“Dad—”
“Are all the pieces still in the right place? I numbered them in big black paint on the bottom of each canvas. They can’t mess it up this time. The beach one should be in the front on the blue wall. Not the dark blue wall, but the blue, almost-turquoise one—”
