The Diva Serves Forbidden Fruit

I’m itching to put up a gallery wall, but my friend did one and it’s awful! Any advice?

It’s easiest if everything is the same size and in identical frames. If not, then look for an imaginary line to follow on your wall. It might be the height of the windows or the trim. The line can also be vertical. Lay out your pictures on the floor or a bed to see how they fit together, starting at the imaginary line. Move them around until you like the way they look and hang them!

Sophie

Paisley raised exhausted eyes to me. Blue bags sagged underneath them. “Everything is falling apart. Do you think my mom was a fence for stolen jewelry like they’re saying?”

I tried to imagine how I would feel to learn something like that about my mother. It was impossible. I wouldn’t have believed it. “I don’t know what to think. Paisley, if your mom said the word gold to you, what would you think she meant?”

“Jewelry?” She shrugged. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I think that’s what she managed to draw in the mulch. By the way, Greer asked me to caution you about the boys coming to her tent. She uses caustic chemicals and doesn’t want them to get hurt.”

Paisley nodded. “Sophie, could I talk to you about something personal?”

“Sure. I’m sorry I didn’t bring another latte.” I pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. People were already browsing through the display tents.

“That’s okay. I haven’t got much appetite these days.” She gazed at the ground. “Frank didn’t come home last night.”

“I’m so sorry, Paisley.” I wrapped an arm around her and gave her a soft squeeze.

When I let go, she looked at me, her chin trembling. “And I’m glad.” She burst into tears.

“That’s the strangest glad I’ve ever seen.”

Paisley wiped her face with the back of her hands. “We had a terrible fight about Tommy. He’s such a great kid. He’s smart and helpful and so sweet. But his outburst yesterday at Carmela caused such a commotion. The whole Eames family was in an uproar. I actually thought about packing up the kids and taking them to a motel somewhere. But then Frank turned on me. He wants to contest my mom’s will. He’s so upset that we can’t have the money now. But I don’t want to contest it. I’m fine with that Humphrey guy. Better than fine. Frank can’t waste my inheritance on that crazy business of his. I understand now. I get it! Mom was protecting me from Frank. He didn’t come home. And now, I don’t want him to. I’m so torn. He’s my husband and the father of my children!”

I tried to be encouraging. “You have been through a lot this week. So have Tommy and Frank. Maybe life will look different when everything settles down.”

“Could you stay here and watch for customers for a few minutes? Mrs. Gurtz is looking after the children in the backyard.”

“Sure. No problem.” I figured I was in a prominent enough place. If a vendor needed me, I was in plain view.

“Thank you so much!” Paisley handed me her phone and showed me how to make a sale. Then she kissed me on the cheek and took off running.

I was thankful that I didn’t hear any screams coming from behind the house. Maybe they were behaving.

A tiny woman wearing a weather green sunhat admired an expensive armoire that Paisley had painted with gorgeous peonies. “Excuse me,” she said. “Do you know if Paisley will be dropping the price at the end of the festival? I’ve been coming by every day because I just have to have this. Each day I’m afraid someone will have bought it.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry but I don’t know if she has plans to lower the price. She should be back soon.”

At that exact moment, a redhead browsed through with a man, whom I presumed was her husband. “Honey, wouldn’t this armoire be perfect in our foyer? It’s just the right size.”

The man smiled at me. “Do you have a measuring tape?”

The tiny woman said in a sweet little voice, “Isn’t it gorgeous? I just bought it.”

“That’s a pity,” said the redhead. “You really ought to put a SOLD sign on it.”

I tried to overlook her huffiness. I grabbed one of Paisley’s cards and hurried over to her. In a whisper I said, “Paisley would be happy to make one for you in customized colors that suit your décor.”

“Really?” said the woman. “Thank you. That might be even better.”

In a stroke of luck, the couple remained to browse and seemed to be considering some other items, thus making it impossible for the tiny woman to back out. She handed me her credit card. I hoped I knew what I was doing when I swiped it through Paisley’s phone with the little square antenna on it.

Luckily, it went through fine. I handed her the phone to sign.

“I’ll send my son around later today to pick it up. Is that all right?” she asked.

“That would be great.” I breathed a sigh of relief. It would give Paisley an opportunity to wrap it appropriately. I tore a little piece of paper off a notepad and used a Sharpie to write SOLD on it. I didn’t see any tape and didn’t want to take a chance with it marring the paint anyway, so I stuck it in between the armoire doors, where it, thankfully, stayed put.

It took Paisley over an hour to return. She arrived in a hurry, carrying two bags marked with the logo of a nearby grocery store. “I’ll be right back,” she called to me as she let herself through the gate.

She returned in minutes. “I am so grateful. Thanks for minding the shop. I still can’t reach Frank, which really upsets me. He was supposed to get groceries today. He must be very angry because he’s not answering his phone—” Paisley stopped abruptly. “That’s how it happened with mom.” She shook her head nervously. “No. I’m being ridiculous. And so is he by running off. He’s probably at his mom’s house being babied while I have to take care of everything, as usual.”

I had a very bad feeling that wasn’t the case. Carmela bustled toward us, looking peeved. “Where is he? Did you turn him against me? Or did you hide his phone?”

Paisley’s face flushed. “You don’t know where he is, either?”

“Whaddya mean, either?”

“He left our house last night and never came home. I thought he was at your house.”

“He’d have been safer there, that’s for sure. What did you do to him?” Carmela grabbed Paisley’s arm and twisted it behind her back. “Tell me!”

“Whoa!” I said. “Let Paisley go right now. There’s no need to attack her.”

“You mind your own business, why doncha? Now, where is he?” She jerked Paisley’s arm higher.

Paisley howled in pain. “I don’t know!”

I whipped out my phone and dialed Wolf’s direct number. When he answered, I said, “We need help right now at Paisley’s tent.”

“On my way,” he said.

“Carmela, please.” I moved closer, hoping I wouldn’t get slugged. “Let her go.”

“Okay.” Carmela released Paisley and shoved her forward, causing her to fall on the ground.

I walked over to help Paisley get up. I offered her my arms and assisted her off the ground. Thankfully, I saw Wolf running toward us. But when I was looking at Wolf, Carmela hauled off and punched me right in the face.

“Ugh!” I went down like a lead balloon, thankfully landing on my well-padded posterior. “What is wrong with you?”

“I can’t find my son, that’s what!”

“Ma’am,” Wolf said, flashing his identification, “what’s going on here?” He reached out a hand and helped me to my feet, but never took his eyes off Carmela.

“Oh swell, a cop,” said Carmela. She raised her palms. “I haven’t done anything. They won’t tell me where my son is.” And then tears streamed. She sniffled and pulled a tissue out of her purse. “I can’t find him anywhere. They were the last to see him.”

She bowed her head and continued the act, but I caught a glimpse of her looking at me out of the corner of her eye. I swear she was laughing.

“Nice show,” said Wolf. “I saw you punch Sophie.”

Carmela raised her head. “Oh! You’re on a first-name basis with the snotty one.”

“I am not snotty. And I’m going to have a black eye.”

“Maybe the officer here is the one who hit you.”

“Ma’am, do you want to add more charges to assault?” asked Wolf, clearly irritated with her.

“Police brutality against senior citizens,” she whimpered. “You should arrest Paisley for hurting my boy and hiding him.”

“Where is Frank?” asked Wolf.

Paisley rubbed her shoulder. “I wish I knew. He stormed out of the house last night and won’t answer his phone.”

“I’m telling you, sir,” said Carmela, playing the beleaguered mom. “She did something to him.” And she added, “Just like she did to her mom.”