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Taking a quick glance at the clock on the stove, I responded, “You needed the rest.”
“Good morning you two!” Janet said loudly once the door was open. Jamie placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head at her mom, still holding onto the door handle. “Breakfast in the main cabin.”
“Janet—” I called, “I’m not used to eating this much. I ate some toast while I answered some emails.”
Janet raised her eyebrows at me, sticking her head in the door, “Jamie should have warned you. I cook a lot.”
“Oh, she warned me, but I wasn’t at all prepared.”
“Daxton,” she lowered her voice, “breakfast in the main cabin.”
Jamie turned to look at me. The look on her face was comical, almost as if she knew I had been caught by her mother. Janet’s “mom voice” was stern, and the look in her eye was worse than any my own mother had ever given me. Janet meant business, and Jamie knew that. And by looking at Jamie I knew the minute she closed the door she was going to burst out in laughter.
I pushed myself off the counter and held up my hands in surrender. “Yes, ma’am,” I said politely.
Janet gave me a nod and then her smile returned. “See you two soon.”
Jamie gave her mom a hug and then closed the door, dropping her arms to her side and slowly turning towards me.
“I don't care what happens for the rest of the day, that was brilliant and I’m never letting you live that down.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I mumbled as I left the kitchen. “I’ll go get changed and then get ready for breakfast. We can skip lunch, right?”
Jamie’s laughter only grew as she followed me up the stairs and into the bathroom. I was definitely never going to live this down.
I hadn't seen Jamie’s painting before today. She kept it well-covered as we drove to the studio and as she carried it inside, but once we got to the director, she removed the cover and I was frozen.
It was beautiful. I had taken a look at all the paintings she had hanging in her apartment, but nothing compared to this one. It was of a mountain range with a sunflower field, the colors completely popping off the canvas. The textures and the lighting she used made it seem surreal, enchanting in a way. If I didn't know it was a painting I could have sworn it was a photograph. I was mesmerized. The director soaked it in just as long as I had, pointing to a few things on it as Jamie nodded her head at him.
The director carefully took the painting from her and she watched as he took it in the back, assuring her he’d take great care of it until it was time for the festival. She had her thumb nail in between her teeth as she watched his every move before she turned to come towards me.
“I’m nervous,” she said softly.
“Why, that's an amazing painting.”
“It’s my first time entering a piece and trust me, Park City festivals are brutal. I won't even get a participation ribbon.” Jamie's hands fell to her side as she walked through the door, walking back into the chill air that filled Main Street.
Park City still had its Christmas lights hanging above the street, with wreaths hanging from the light posts. There was so much snow on the road that Main Street seemed to have become a one-way street, so others could still parallel park. I could see signs for some name brand stores, while others were clearly locally-owned. I reached my hand behind me for Jamie so we could take the walk up together.
“What are the awards?” I asked her as she came closer to my side, not taking my hand. She zipped up her coat and folded her arms.
Letting out a long sigh she said, “Best in show of course, best breakthrough, best landscape, best portrait . . . the list could go on and on.”
“You’re entered in?” I dragged out the “n”hoping she would fill the void.
“Landscape and breakthrough.” Her voice was heavy, a hint of anticipation settled. “But did you see the others? There’s so many phenomenal artists. It wasn’t easy getting in, you know. There are over two-hundred artists entered this year.”
“All oil paintings?” I asked, glancing in a window of a store that had cooking oils and vinegars. I stopped, grabbing a hold of Jamie’s coat to pull her back to the store. I opened the door for her, letting the fabric slip between my fingers.
“Well, no,” she responded as she walked through the door and up the steps. “There’s photography, sculptures, paintings, and even jewelry. Why did we come in here? Are you wanting a gnome?” Jamie giggled as she picked up a small stuffed gnome.
I took the gnome from her and placed it back on the shelf with the others. “Ha, no. I saw the cooking oils and thought it would be a good gift for your mom.”
“Really?” she asked, pinching her eyebrows together as her eyes widened.
“Well, yes. I can get her a gift, can’t I?”
She softly nodded. “She loves this store. She always comes here to get oil. She’s going to love it. And the fact that you thought of it is going to be even better.”
