Charlotte stood in Paul’s gallery on Friday evening, nervously waiting for the show to open. She chatted with a few of the other local artists. She especially enjoyed talking to the woodcarver. He’d carved a large blue heron that if she’d had the money she would have loved to buy.
She moved over and stood in front of the wall that held her paintings. Paul had chosen a mix of beach scenes and town scenes. He’d priced them higher than she thought they should be, but he insisted they were priced fairly. He knew better than she did. She’d always left that to Reginald. Not that that had turned out well.
If even one painting sold tonight, it would start to help her out of her financial mess.
Paul’s wife, Josephine, was busy in the corner arranging a small table of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne.
She glanced at the loose watch on her wrist, twisting it so she could see it clearly. One more minute.
She saw Paul head to the door, flip the sign to open, and unlock it. A few people were waiting to come inside. She swallowed, not sure why she was more nervous about this showing than big, fancy openings in L.A. and Chicago and Boston. This was just a small town in Florida, not an artist Mecca.
She made small talk with customers when they walked by her paintings, answering questions and smiling—always smiling.
“Hey, you.”
She turned at the sound of Robin’s voice. A familiar face. Excellent. “I’m so glad to see you.” She threw her arms around her friend and hugged her close. Exactly what she needed. Moral support.
“Sara and Noah are over there grabbing some champagne. I told them to get one for you. You look like you could use it.”
“I’m… a bit nervous.”
“You look it. Just take a deep breath. Relax.”
“That’s easy for you to say. It’s my first showing of work of this kind. Well, not counting the party, and we know how that turned out.”
Noah and Sara walked up and he handed her a glass. “Quite a turn-out. Though the local artist show is always one of Paul’s biggest draws. People love to see work from the locals. I put a notice about it on the community center website.”
“Your display looks amazing.” Sara stood in front of the pictures, carefully looking at each of them.
Paul came up to her with a huge grin on his face. He leaned in close to her and whispered. “You’ve already sold a piece. The gazebo one.”
“I did? I sold one?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.
Robin and Sara spun around. “Ha, I told you.” Robin looked triumphant.
“Yes. I was sure you would.”
Paul smiled and turned around to greet some more customers.
“What’s this I hear? You’ve already sold one?” Ben walked up to them looking spiffy in freshly pressed khakis and a light yellow button-down shirt that brought out the amber flecks in his brown eyes.
“You came.” She smiled at him. She was finally surrounded by those she cared about all around her. They all turned out in support. Even if her family would never support her, her friends did. And Ben was a friend, right? Or what was he? She’d only seen him once this week, she’d been so busy. And that had been in passing at the inn when she’d been there looking for Sara and he’d been there to meet up with Jay. She pushed the thoughts away, unwilling to dissect their relationship on a night like tonight.
“Of course I did. Where else would I be on your big night?” He walked over to look at the paintings, then turned back to her. “These really are good. Very good.”
She felt the heat of a blush creep across her cheeks. Before she could answer him, she turned at a light touch on her arm.
“Hello, Charlotte.”
“Del, it’s nice to see you.”
“I try to always make it to opening nights of Paul’s shows if I’m in town. He’s an excellent judge of art.” He looked at her paintings. “I see these fit in well with the tone of the painting I saw at Camille’s mother’s party. I really do like the style. Do you have an agent who’s representing you now?”
“Not right now.”
He nodded. “Let me know if you get one. I might have an opportunity for you if you’re interested. Or I could speak to you directly.”
She panicked then. What did she know about the financial side of selling her work? Reginald had always handled that for her. She hadn’t dealt with any of the selling or arranging shows or arranging payment.
She took a deep breath, reminding herself that things were changing now and that she could handle it. She could handle everything, right? She was at least going to make a good attempt at it. “You could speak directly to me.”
“Perfect. I’ll call and set up a meeting.” He smiled and headed over to look at another display.
“What was that all about?” Robin came up to her.
“I’m not sure. He said something about an opportunity.”
Robin grinned. “See, I told you good things were going to start happening for you.”
She felt her phone vibrate in the pocket of her skirt but ignored it. She needed to concentrate on the show, and she was riding a high. It felt so good to be showing her work again… not to mention selling.
She turned as an older couple came up and asked her if she’d painted the lighthouse on the point yet. She told them she had, but that painting wasn’t here on display but would be in a few weeks when Paul was doing a full show of her work. They smiled and said they’d be back.
She talked to more customers and glanced at her watch, surprised it was almost time for the gallery to close. Where had the night gone?
Her phone vibrated again. Then again. She finally snatched it from her pocket, wondering who in the world could need her that badly that they kept calling. She wanted to just bask in this tiny success of hers.
She saw she had two voice messages and a handful of texts from her sister. She scrolled through the messages and her hand crept up to cover her mouth. Robin looked at her and hurried back by her side. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s my mom.”
“What happened?”
She turned her phone for Robin to read the message.
Mom is in the hospital. Heart attack. It’s your fault. See what you did when you caused all that stress for her?
“Oh, Char… it’s not your fault. That’s just Eva being Eva.”
“I did cause a fuss. Mom was so upset.”
“No, you stood up to them. You’re allowed to do that.” Robin squeezed her arm.
“I’ve got to go. Get a flight out.” She looked around the gallery, trying to find Ben to tell him she was leaving.
“I’ll drive you to the airport. Let’s head back home, you can pack, and we’ll find you the first flight out to Austin.”
Sara hurried over. “You okay?”
“Her mom’s in the hospital. I’m taking her to the airport. Will you tell Paul she had to leave?”
“Sure. And, Char, I’m so sorry about your mom.”
She just nodded. She looked around the room, still looking for Ben, but couldn’t see him. She didn’t have time to track him down. She needed to get a flight and get to Austin.
“Come on, I’ll drive you home. You can search for a flight on your way.” Robin grabbed her arm and led her out the door.
She hurried out of the gallery, tapping on her phone as she went, texting Eva that she was on her way, and looking for a flight.