he shook his head and looked up at her. “That’s actually why I'm here. I'm going to paint Maribel’s mother, and obviously I can’t use some factory made hue to capture her.”
His beard-ringed mouth fell open. “I should think not!” he said putting a thumb to his chin. “I may have a few things in the back, why don’t you go see if you can find what you need. I’ll show Maribel around the shop.”
She nodded and pulled her notepad out of her purse, with a look on her face that was all woman on a mission.
“What is she trying to find?” I asked him, still unsure of what we were doing there.
“She wants to make her own paint for your mother’s portrait, and I can’t blame her. Nothing in the store would be right,” he said.
I looked toward the storeroom door and made sure Sylvia was still out of sight. “So you knew my mother?” I asked tentatively.
He took in a deep shaky breath, the same way Sylvia or Dylan did when I asked about my parents. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry you never got to know her,” he gazed up at one of the lights, his eyes distant. “She was the most remarkable person that I have ever met.”
I studied him. He seemed so different from my uncle and aunt. He had the appearance of a rough old biker. How could they have run in the same circles together, it didn’t seem like they had much in common?
“How did you know my mother?” I asked.
He pursed his thin lips together in concentration. “Your mother was something of a writer. I used to make the ink she used in her books. The day she died was the saddest day of my life.” I could tell by the look on his face that he meant it, but for some reason, the statement struck me as odd. I didn’t know what it was but his words felt off. “Let me show you something.”
I followed him over to a glass case that displayed an array of jewelry making supplies. He popped open the case and pulled out a white box and set it on the counter. “Open it up,” he said.
I opened the lid. Resting inside were some of the beads I had seen by the door. Only there were all different shapes, sizes, and colors.
“Which one is your favorite?” he asked curiously.
I loved the turquoise and blues, the brown reminded me of the dark flecks in Jaron‘s eyes, but my favorite were a deep coral and the gold I had already seen. All of the colors were too rich and I had never seen anything like them. To call them by the names I associated with them almost seemed a crime. Even though I knew that gold was what the color was, it was too brilliant to be called the same thing as the other golds I had seen my whole life. And the coral had orange and pinks peeking through its surface more glorious than any sunset could muster.
“It’s a tie,” I said, feeling silly for not being able to make up my mind.
“Really?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What are the lucky colors?”
“Well, all of these are beautiful, but the gold and the coral are my favorites.”
A grin spread across his face. “Of course, of course.”
Sylvia came back into the showroom, beaming. “I think I found everything I’ll need!”
“That’s good.” Johnny made his way over to the cash register.
“How much do I owe you?” Sylvia asked.
“Really? You think I’m going to charge you?” he asked, seeming insulted.
“Come on, Johnny, I will just leave hundreds of dollars in your bike’s riding pouch if you don’t tell me,” she said.
“Oh, you would too. Even though they’re locked up tight, I know you would find a way…” he said begrudgingly. “Okay eighty-five dollars and sixty-two cents—and don’t give me a hard time about the family discount I’m giving you.”
“Oh, all right.” She pulled out her purse. “But don’t give me a hard time when I say keep the change,” she said, handing him a hundred dollar bill.
He rolled his eyes and he took the money. “Hey, how long will you be in town?”
“We’re going back to the house in a few hours,
His beard-ringed mouth fell open. “I should think not!” he said putting a thumb to his chin. “I may have a few things in the back, why don’t you go see if you can find what you need. I’ll show Maribel around the shop.”
She nodded and pulled her notepad out of her purse, with a look on her face that was all woman on a mission.
“What is she trying to find?” I asked him, still unsure of what we were doing there.
“She wants to make her own paint for your mother’s portrait, and I can’t blame her. Nothing in the store would be right,” he said.
I looked toward the storeroom door and made sure Sylvia was still out of sight. “So you knew my mother?” I asked tentatively.
He took in a deep shaky breath, the same way Sylvia or Dylan did when I asked about my parents. “Yes, I did. I’m sorry you never got to know her,” he gazed up at one of the lights, his eyes distant. “She was the most remarkable person that I have ever met.”
I studied him. He seemed so different from my uncle and aunt. He had the appearance of a rough old biker. How could they have run in the same circles together, it didn’t seem like they had much in common?
“How did you know my mother?” I asked.
He pursed his thin lips together in concentration. “Your mother was something of a writer. I used to make the ink she used in her books. The day she died was the saddest day of my life.” I could tell by the look on his face that he meant it, but for some reason, the statement struck me as odd. I didn’t know what it was but his words felt off. “Let me show you something.”
I followed him over to a glass case that displayed an array of jewelry making supplies. He popped open the case and pulled out a white box and set it on the counter. “Open it up,” he said.
I opened the lid. Resting inside were some of the beads I had seen by the door. Only there were all different shapes, sizes, and colors.
“Which one is your favorite?” he asked curiously.
I loved the turquoise and blues, the brown reminded me of the dark flecks in Jaron‘s eyes, but my favorite were a deep coral and the gold I had already seen. All of the colors were too rich and I had never seen anything like them. To call them by the names I associated with them almost seemed a crime. Even though I knew that gold was what the color was, it was too brilliant to be called the same thing as the other golds I had seen my whole life. And the coral had orange and pinks peeking through its surface more glorious than any sunset could muster.
“It’s a tie,” I said, feeling silly for not being able to make up my mind.
“Really?” he said, raising his eyebrows. “What are the lucky colors?”
“Well, all of these are beautiful, but the gold and the coral are my favorites.”
A grin spread across his face. “Of course, of course.”
Sylvia came back into the showroom, beaming. “I think I found everything I’ll need!”
“That’s good.” Johnny made his way over to the cash register.
“How much do I owe you?” Sylvia asked.
“Really? You think I’m going to charge you?” he asked, seeming insulted.
“Come on, Johnny, I will just leave hundreds of dollars in your bike’s riding pouch if you don’t tell me,” she said.
“Oh, you would too. Even though they’re locked up tight, I know you would find a way…” he said begrudgingly. “Okay eighty-five dollars and sixty-two cents—and don’t give me a hard time about the family discount I’m giving you.”
“Oh, all right.” She pulled out her purse. “But don’t give me a hard time when I say keep the change,” she said, handing him a hundred dollar bill.
He rolled his eyes and he took the money. “Hey, how long will you be in town?”
“We’re going back to the house in a few hours,
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