“We both appreciate it.”
Cleo propped on a stool while Sonya toasted her bagel. “Listen, if you want, when you take a break, come up and see how I’ve set things up. You’ve got a good, efficient eye.”
“I will. Basic routine for me? I’m trying to work out three days a week—I shoot for morning, mostly. Which is not this morning. Work until Yoda lets me know he has to go out, or I realize I need to get up and out. Walk around. Work. Toss something together for dinner, or if Trey’s coming over, he’ll bring takeout. I try to get into the village one day a week. Flower shop, maybe the bookstore, grocery.”
“Groceries are on me now.”
“And I’m happy to give that to you.”
“I know your rhythms, Son, and you know mine. We’ll find the new ones here. If I’m going out—I really want to explore the village, see that lighthouse, find some outdoor painting spots—I’ll text you if it’s during work hours. Let you know.”
“Same goes.”
“And we’re good. No, I’ve got him.” At Yoda’s let-me-in bark, Cleo rose. “There’s that boy, there’s that very good boy. Breakfast is ready.”
Yeah, Sonya thought, they’d find the new rhythm.
She worked straight through until noon, making progress on the Doyle job, designing three options for Anna’s needs. After she let a very anxious Yoda out the front door, she walked back for a Coke. Before she could grab a jacket and join him, he was barking at the mudroom door.
“Okay, we’ll walk later. But since it’s break time, let’s go see Cleo.”
Apparently, her very brilliant dog already recognized the name, as he raced for the stairs.
Before she reached the studio, she heard Cleo’s “Did you come to see me? Did you come to see Cleo? Yes, you did!”
“We both did. Oh, Cleo!”
Paints—acrylics, oils, watercolors—lined the shelves, along with brushes, palette knives, all the artist tools carefully organized.
Spare sketchbooks, drawing pencils, colored pencils, charcoals, pastels joined them. And canvases stacked, varying sizes, beside Cleo’s old, paint-smeared artist case.
She had a blank canvas on the easel, an old table she must have unearthed from somewhere beside it. She’d set a palette there with a single brush crossed over it.
On her desk sat her computer monitor, an open pencil case, a large sketchbook, some of her crystals, and a small glass dragon in deep orange.
“What do you think?”
“Still taking it in.”
Sonya wandered. A pretty dish centered on the sofa table along with a pair of squat white candles in dark blue holders. A suncatcher sparkled with light in the south-facing window, cream-colored pillows plumped on the sofa with the mermaid lamp standing beside it.
“I saw this chest when I found that little table. It looks like it came off a pirate ship. Nothing in it, but it’s got weight. Maybe your big, strong man can haul it in for me.”
“I’m sure. Just like I’m sure you don’t need my help here. It’s all you.”
“It won’t stay so organized, but it’s nice to start that way. I was thinking of getting a small dorm fridge for drinks.”
“Good idea.”
“The better one, I thought, since I don’t like structured cardio, is using the stairs when I’m thirsty. I am grateful there’s a bathroom down the hall. I put toilet paper, some soap and towels in there. I’ll fuss it up some, but I like having that close by.”
“Any problem with you-know-who?”
“Oh, she banged and bitched for a while.” Cleo shrugged that off like she might a cloud breezing over the sun. “I’ve got my labradorite and black tourmaline here, and Clarence.” She patted the dragon.
“Clarence, who’s new to me.”
“I just found him last week. Carnelian dragon. Courage and creativity. Plus, dragon.”
Sonya walked over for a closer look.
“Cleo! The mermaid book?”
“Yeah. I’m working with acrylics. I wanted hand drawn rather than using software for these. I’ve got a few scanned, but I’m not ready to send them on.”
Sonya studied the work in progress. “Can I see what you’ve already done?”
A mermaid swimming, long length, head lifted, eyes closed. Her gilded hair streaming back, and her tail a glittering symphony of color.
In another, a pair of them perched on rocks, facing each other, with the sea swirling under a full moon. Another speared out of the water, hands cupped, with water flying around her.