Page 50 of Relief Pitcher

I angled my truck so the edge of the bed cleared the gate to the gigantic backyard in case she wanted me to haul it back there. Before exiting the truck, I tried a deep breathing exercise I’d learned in a grief support group.

All the worst remarks about my work being unoriginal and homey in a derogatory way hovered at the edges of my mind like hungry sharks waiting for chum. Art class critiques were brutal. What if Ginny didn’t like what I’d made for her? I’d spent a lot of my free time since the job on her property working on the piece. Time when I wasn’t at softball or texting with Ty, which was becoming a regular thing. I smiled. Thinking of him helped lower my blood pressure.

Movement caught my eye, and I saw Ginny waving as she walked toward my truck. The tiny woman had to be at least double my age and could probably kick my ass.

Now or never.I greeted her with as happy a smile as possible, with my nerves firing on all cylinders.

Ginny wore a sunshine-yellow shirt and white linen pants that danced in the light breeze. She rubbed her hands together and did a happy wiggle. “I’m so excited to see what you’ve created.”

“I hope you like it.” I tried to convey confidence, but I hadn’t been so nervous since I’d presented my art portfolio in college right before I’d faced the fact that I wasn’t cut out to be an artist and changed majors.

I rubbed my damp palms on my jeans before pulling on my gloves and popping open the back of the truck. I pulled the bundle out, stood the piece upright, and carefully unwrapped the blanket. “Animals are my favorite thing to create.”

She gasped, then covered her mouth with her weathered hand. I tried to look at the piece through her eyes instead of my critical ones. Where I saw sections I’d cut too deep or detail I could’ve finessed with more skill, maybe she saw something pleasant. I’d retained part of the trunk’s curve by carving the owl in only half of the wood, so there was a backdrop. Almost like the owl was hanging out inside the stump. My style edged toward rough, almost rushed, sharp angles rather than careful and meticulously detailed. The owl looked almost windswept and grumpy while waiting out a storm in the stump.

Tears spilled out of Ginny’s eyes. “My late husband loved owls. What a beautiful way to honor that grump of a man.” She looked out to where the trees once stood. “He adored it here. The trees were one of his favorite parts of the property, and he spent so much time fussing over them. I’m sad they had to go, but he would’ve loved the raised garden bed I plan to put there. Anything to keep him outside.”

I looked over at the same spot. “My late husband had an obsession with crows. Now the damn things won’t leave me alone.” The admission tumbled from my mouth. Every time I spoke of Aleck in fondness instead of pain, I felt lighter.

She let out a wet laugh. “Men and their birds.”

“You’re telling me.” I smiled at her, grateful to the tiny woman for helping me heal the slightest bit more.

After several minutes of looking at the piece, she cleared her throat and collected herself. “I have a check for you inside.”

I let out a shaky breath as my shoulders relaxed. I followed her into her warm and inviting home full of photos from what seemed to have been a long and fulfilling life. Owl tchotchkes stood in clusters on several surfaces.

Ginny picked up a foil container with a plastic lid that had an envelope on top. “Thank you so much, Cooper. I’ll treasure what you created for the rest of my days. Now open the envelope and make sure it’s the right amount.”

I peeked into the container. “What’s this?”

“A treat for all your hard work. I’ve won several county blue ribbons for my snickerdoodles.”

Ilovedsnickerdoodles. My mouth watered at the stack of thick cookies covered with cinnamon and sugar. I set the container on the dining table to open the envelope and had to do a double take at the amount. She’d not only paid me what I’d quoted her after extensive research and her negotiating a higher rate because she’d called me out on underpricing myself, but she’d added a sizable tip. Behind the check was a paper with names and phone numbers in a tidy cursive.

“What’s this paper?”

She beamed. “The names of several friends who want to hire you.”

“I’ll be sure to pass these names on to our front office. They do all the scheduling for consultations.”

Ginny clucked her tongue. “Not trees, for yourart.”

I was stunned. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you have time to do work for them because as soon as I hit the group chat with pictures of what you made for me, they’ll be clamoring for your time.”

I laughed. “Absolutely. Thank you.” Tears stung the back of my eyes.

Ginny pulled me into a hug and then invited me to stay for a cup of coffee, and we chatted about our late husbands. It was the best finale to dropping off my first commission. Aleck had been hovering on my mind while I’d worked on it because I knew how proud he would’ve been. It felt like he’d been a part of the process.

After we finished our drinks, I said goodbye and promised to call the people on the list. I was light enough to float on my way back to my truck. Ginny had liked it. Truly appreciated and enjoyed my work. Someone who didn’t have to support me not only did so but was trying to help me get more of my art out there.

Could I do it? Could I actually share my art with more people? Maybe that professor had been wrong after all. I could hear Aleck sayingI told you soin a singsong.

I climbed into my truck, and before I turned the ignition, I looked at the sky and spotted a crow flying by. “Thanks for always pushing me to do this, Al.”

As I drove home, my mind wandered to Ty again. Usually, it was because I was curious about what he was up to or simply wanted to chat. This time, I wanted to tell him about my art. I wanted to tell him I’d done something big and scary that I’d been avoiding most of my adult life, and it’d gone okay. Better than okay. I wanted him to smile and give me a high five.

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