“That’s the truth,” Emma said. “She even shares that energy with me when I’m low.”
“She’s a generous person for sure,” Filly said. “Now I’m going to bend her fingers backward just a little, not so much as to hurt, but it will show me if she has flexibility of the mind, which she does. Now that I’ve determined her personality, I will look at the hand. Look at this beautiful padding on the top of her palm, which is the map of Jupiter, and now the padding at the side, which is the map of the moon.”
Emma was totally mesmerized by what Filly was saying. She scooted over closer to her so she could see better.
“See how her pinkie stands off by itself? Sophie doesn’t do that on purpose. That’s the Mercury arc type that means she’s good in business and shows that she’s her own person and likes to act very independent,” Filly said.
“I thought you would just look at the lines and say Sophie would be blessed in love,” Emma said.
“Honey, reading palms is an art,” Filly said. “Now, Sophie has Jupiter for leadership, Saturn for hard work, and Mercury for independence; she’s got the moon for dreaminess, intuition, and imagination. Most people have a flat Jupiter, but Sophie’s is full, which means she is actually a late bloomer. That’s kind of hard for teenagers to accept, but in the thirties, it means that the best is yet to come.”
Emma looked at her own hand as Filly talked. She had pads at the top of her palm, too, so hopefully the best in her life was yet to come, too.
“See these little pads on her fingers?” Filly said. “That means she has wisdom and will keep blooming the older she gets.”
“Me too!” Emma said.
“Hold your hand up beside Sophie’s,” Filly said. “I don’t normally do two at once, but you are right. You have full Jupiter pads and good signs from the moon area, but your Mercury arc isn’t as pronounced as Sophie’s, so that means you aren’t as good in business. It is fuller than normal, which means you are or will be independent.”
“I’ll take that much and be happy,” Emma said.
Filly studied both hands. “You both have a very creative curve to your head line, which means you are alike in your love of art. You don’t just want the facts, but you need time to think and to dream. In a relationship this means you need both togetherness and a little time apart for yourself. You are both seekers after wisdom, and you will get better and better every year of your lives.”
Emma leaned in a little to look at the differences and the similarities in their hands.
“Now see this line?” Filly touched Sophie’s palm with her own and then did the same with Emma. “This is the life line. It’s pinker and deeper than most people’s life lines, which means that each of you will have someone come into your life who will feel your influences, and your relationships will be energized by the whole complex range of emotions and love. You will both have many interesting things unfolding in your lives.”
Filly sighed. “That’s all, girls. You’ve had your palms really read, not just told that you will meet someone tall, dark, and handsome. You have wonderful opportunities ahead of you, but you have to be open to them.”
Emma continued to stare at her hand. “Where were you to give me all this confidence years ago?”
“I wish I had been there for you,” Filly said. “But let’s have our cinnamon rolls and some more coffee and talk about something else now. You both have a bright future if you open up your minds, hearts, and souls, and that’s what I see. Is that your newest work over there, Sophie? I feel like I could walk right into that painting and search for tiny flat rocks.”
Me too, or live right here where I can see the mountains forever, Emma thought as she stared at the painting with the other two. But was it the place that made her feel safe, or was it being with Sophie? Or believing and trusting in what Filly had just said?
She didn’t dread the time she’d spend alone but rather looked forward to it. She’d enjoyed her semester in college until that unfortunate evening.
Until you were raped. Own it and let it make you stronger. Rebel’s voice showed up in her head.
“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered ever so softly.
Loneliness was nothing new to Josh. That feeling had been with him most of his life. According to his mother, kids with a high intelligence like he had often didn’t fit in with their peers. But that morning, the emptiness in his heart and soul was more acute than ever before.
He opened a bottle of ink and set up a new canvas on his tabletop easel. He had always had ideas and even a list of what he would produce next, but that rainy morning, Emma was stuck in his mind. He dipped a pen tip into the ink and began to draw.
At noon, Filly poked her head in the back door and yelled, “If you ain’t dressed, you better run for the bedroom, because I’m comin’ in.”
“Come on in.” When he glanced up from his work, he realized it had stopped raining. “Want a glass of tea or a root beer?”
“I’d love a root beer, but I can get it for myself. Have you seen the rainbow?” Filly kicked off her flip-flops just inside the door and set a plate on the bar separating the kitchen and living area. “I brought ham sandwiches from last night’s leftovers.”
“I didn’t realize that it was so late.” Josh’s stomach growled. “And no, I haven’t seen the rainbow.” He set his pen aside, put the cap back on the ink, and crossed the room to the sliding glass doors that led out onto his deck. “It’s gorgeous—thanks for lunch. Mind if I eat while we talk? I’m starving.”
“Not at all, but that right there”—Filly got out a can of soda from the refrigerator, sat down on the sofa, and pointed at the picture—“that’s prettier than any rainbow God ever slapped in the sky.”
Josh could feel the heat coming from his neck to his cheeks, but there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. “She was on my mind this morning, and since . . .”
Filly leaned back on the worn leather sofa and studied the portrait. “Are you selling it?”
Josh removed the plastic wrap from the plate and picked up a sandwich. “Nope. Someday I might give it to Emma, like on the day she and Sophie leave the park. I’m hoping that she doesn’t ever leave us. She fits in so well with our little group, and”—he blushed—“she needs us.”
“Are you attracted to her, Josh?”
Josh almost dropped his sandwich, suddenly tongue-tied. “I don’t know,” he finally managed to get out. “She’s so pretty, but she deserves someone strong to put her back together again.”
“Maybe so, but then again, she might just need someone to be there for her while she learns to put herself back together. I spent some time with the girls this morning, and I even read their palms,” Filly said.
“And?” Josh asked.
“They’ve both got a bright future ahead of them,” Filly answered.
“Does that mean Em is leaving?” Josh asked.
“Only if her future isn’t here. If it is, then she will stay,” Filly said.
“I hope she sticks around even after Sophie goes back to Dallas. I could sure use a friend like her. We’re so much alike, and she’s so easy . . .” He struggled for the right words.
“Easy for you to talk to, right?” Filly came to his rescue.
Josh nodded. “Yes, and she fits in with our little family here, too. She’s not strong like Sophie, so maybe she needs us, too.”
“Sophie isn’t as strong as you think. She has her demons, too. She just covers it better than you and Em are able to do,” Filly told him.
“Why?” Josh wondered out loud.
“Artists portray their feelings with their creations,” Filly said. “I’ve known for a long time that Sophie has something difficult in her past. Her art tells me that.”
“What does mine tell you?” Josh asked.
“That you live in a black-and-white world. You’re afraid of color because you’re afraid to get hurt if you let anyone into your life.” Filly yawned. “It’s about time for my game show, so I’d
best get going. See you at supper. Arty is making fried chicken tonight.” She stood up, and when she left, Coco dashed inside the door.
Josh pinched off a small piece of the ham and offered it to her. Evidently, she wasn’t hungry, because she acted offended and curled up on the sofa. He sat down beside her and stared at the half-finished picture of Emma. What Filly said about color kept running through his mind. What if he made her eyes light brown in the picture? That would add a subtle touch—kind of like Emma’s word hope worked into her art.
Chapter Ten
Emma was so edgy she could hardly sit still. She had never sold anything, and Sophie had said that Leo was a big man. Could she even look at him without remembering the smothering pressure on her body when Terrance raped her?
Sophie explained that Leo always went to Arty’s place first and loaded up whatever metalwork pieces Arty had ready. Then he made a stop at Filly’s trailer and came out with a box of jewelry that he put into his truck. After that, he came to Sophie’s trailer to try to talk her into letting him have something she had done, and then he went to Josh’s place.
Emma watched the process from the living room door. Leo was as big as a refrigerator, but nothing about him reminded her of Terrance. She had convinced herself that everything was going to be all right until he started toward their trailer.
“I don’t know . . . ,” she whispered.
“Don’t be nervous. He’s going to love your work,” Sophie said. “But if this is too much, I can always negotiate a price for your two paintings.”
Emma took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “He’s huge, and I am nervous, but I have to do this. I don’t want to, but I need to. You aren’t always going to be here, and I want to be independent.”
“I can guarantee you that he’s harmless.” Sophie gave her a brief hug and then opened the door. “I’ve got a surprise for you today, Leo. Come in and meet my best friend, Em.”
“Filly told me that you brought a friend with you this year.” Leo’s presence filled the small room. He stood well over six feet tall and had shoulders and a chest that covered acres instead of inches, a big bald head, and a curly red beard that was twisted into two braids with beads.
Emma had started to twist her hands, but when she heard his high, almost feminine, voice, she dropped them to her sides. She stuck out her right hand and said, “Hello, I’m Emma Merrill. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Leo.”
“Just Leo.” He smiled as he shook with her and then turned his attention back to Sophie. “I’ll give you top dollar for that rain picture right there, girl.”
“Can’t do it. It’s part of a collection for an upcoming showing,” Sophie said, “but Em has a couple of small works over there on the bar you might look at. She’s dreamed of painting for these new small houses that folks are building. It’s a brand-new market that you can swoop into on the ground floor if you’re interested.”
Leo stared at the two small paintings and the half-finished one beside them for what seemed like hours; then he shook his head slowly from side to side and turned around to focus on Emma. “Where have you been hiding? How come I’ve never heard of you? These are amazing. I can already name six clients who will be interested in them if I even want to sell them right now. I may hang them in my gallery and tease my customers with them until they are all itching to own an Emma Merrill original.”
“We’re calling them the MM originals,” Sophie said. “Those are the first two that she’s done since she left college more than ten years ago.”
“I just saw the word hope in the cardinal’s feathers. Can we call this the Hope period of MM’s works?” Leo went back to studying the paintings.
“Yes, you can.” Emma had to remind herself that she needed to breathe. She sucked in a lungful of air and wanted to pinch herself to be sure that she was awake.
“So, what are they worth?” Emma asked.
“Honey, I’m an honest man, so I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a choice of paying you outright for them or taking them on commission and giving you seventy-five percent of what I can sell them for,” Leo answered.
Emma looked over at Sophie.
“It’s your decision,” Sophie said, “but I’d take the commission thing. If they have a bidding war to get one of your first works, then it could amount to thousands.”
Emma’s eyes grew wide. “Are you kidding me?”
“No, she’s not kidding you one little bit.” Leo pulled a red bandanna from his pocket and wiped his bald head. “You’ve got talent like I haven’t seen in a while, and I love the idea of selling for the new smaller houses people are building. I’ve got a contract out in my truck that we can both sign, and I’ll take pictures of the paintings, print them out, and attach them, so everything is legal. I can’t wait to be known as the guy who discovered you, Miss Em.”
“Then I’ll do what Sophie says,” Emma agreed, “but why do you think they’re that good?”
“Because there’s heart and soul in them,” Leo told her, “just like Sophie’s paintings. I see pain, heartache, and fear, and yet there’s a ray of hope hiding in the background. Folks are going to go crazy for these things.”
“Thank you.” Emma couldn’t help but wonder what her mother would have to say.
Leo stuffed the bandanna back in his pocket. “I sweat when I get excited. When can you have more? I’d like to see half a dozen a month, if that’s possible.”
“When will you be back?” Emma asked, a little proud of herself for having the courage to ask the question.
“I come by here sometime in the middle of the month. Never know what exact day,” he answered as he picked up the paintings as if they were gold.
“I can have six ready to go by then, maybe even seven or eight,” she said.
“That’s great. I’m going to take these to my truck and bring the contract back in,” Leo told her as he headed toward the door.
The second he was outside, Emma plopped down on the sofa and put her hand over her eyes. “If I’m dreaming, don’t pinch me. I don’t want to wake up.”
“I told you that you’re fantastic.” Sophie sat down beside her. “And I’m never wrong about good art.”
“Thousands? For real? For those small canvases?” Emma whispered. “How much . . . no, that’s personal . . .” She frowned.
“Six figures at the very least for each one that I do.” Sophie smiled.
“Who needs oil wells when we’ve got paintbrushes?” Emma giggled. “Answer me truthfully. Am I really awake?”
Sophie draped an arm around her shoulders. “Darlin’, we just proved what I’ve said since we were kids. You are an exceptional artist, and yes, we are awake.”
Josh sat on the porch and watched Leo go into Sophie’s trailer. He remembered the very first drawing that he sold to Leo. It had been a picture of two ring-neck doves with their outspread wings flying above a band of coyotes. Leo had asked to see more of his work right then, and Josh had brought out a piece he had done before he came to the trailer park. That one had a barn in the background and a mare with her colt beside her in the foreground. Leo had bought them both in that moment and asked if he could have more done in a month. Josh didn’t tell him that there were probably twenty in his closet, or that he was producing at least two to three a month. He had just agreed to do more and then fell back onto the sofa the minute Leo left the trailer.
He hoped that Emma was having a similar experience and that Leo echoed all the trailer family’s praise for her works. She needed to hear that even worse than he did back when he moved to the park.
He heaved a sigh of relief when Leo carried the two paintings out to his truck and then took a clipboard with papers back into Sophie’s trailer. Evidently, Leo had seen that Emma was an outstanding artist, just like the family there in the park had realized.
“Hey, Josh.” Leo waved as he started across the yard. “What have you got for me today?”
“Just a couple of things.” Josh stood up and s
hook hands with Leo. “Come on inside and have a look.”
“I will, but you know I’ll buy anything you produce. I’ve got a waiting list to look at whatever you do. You really should let Sophie take you on a tour with her.” Leo followed him into the trailer. “And by the way, that Emma is going to be a star.”
“She’s a little shy like me, but she really puts heart and soul into her work.”
“The better the artist, the more temperamental,” Leo said and then stopped in his tracks. “I want that one.” He pointed at the drawing of Emma. “I’ll keep it for my own private collection.”
“It’s not for sale,” Josh said.
“Everything is for sale,” Leo chuckled. “Name your price.”
“Some things are priceless,” Josh told him. “You can have those two”—Josh pointed at the eagle and a drawing of a fox—“but that one will never be for sale.”
“It’s Emma, isn’t it?” Leo’s eyes never left it. “That’s your first work ever with a bit of color. It’s absolutely stunning.”
“Yes, it’s Emma,” Josh answered.
“Will you promise me that you won’t sell it to anyone else if you ever do decide to put it on the market?” Leo asked.
“I can do that, but I assure you, it won’t be sold,” Josh agreed.
“All right, then, can I talk you into putting just a touch of color into another one?” Leo turned away from the drawing. “The eagle is fantastic, and that mama fox with her babies will sell fast. What’s next?”
“Whatever hits my fancy, I guess,” Josh told him. “Maybe I’ll work on a black hawk. I saw a pair last week sitting in an old cottonwood tree.”
“I wish you’d do another one of Emma. That one of her sitting on the back porch with the wind blowing her hair is mesmerizing, but I can so see her in other settings. You could call it your MM period,” Leo pressured.
“I’ll let Em have her own MM period,” Josh said. “She is one of a kind and deserves to own her brand. I will think about putting a little color into a couple more this next month.” Josh glanced over his shoulder at the drawing. Folks might call him crazy, but he had told the image good night before he went to bed the night before.
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