Draw and Order

by Cheryl Hollon

  “There’s no way to tell, honey,” said her mom, Dorothy Marcella, who was tucked into the other end of the quilt, one booted foot touching the plank boards of the porch floor to keep the swing moving. “You need the business.”

  “I certainly do. Tourist season is virtually shut down for the winter, and there won’t be anything happening in these hills until spring. Well, except for a few Christmas events up at Hemlock Lodge.”

  “I’ve been so busy going back and forth to Dayton trying to sell my house and haven’t paid much attention to you.” Dorothy tapped Miranda’s toe with her own. “What’s so special about this? You’ve been doing your cultural tours for a couple of months now. I’m sorry to have been so preoccupied when you needed to brainstorm.”

  Miranda felt the warmth spread through her chest, and she began to relax. She had been upset by her mom’s distance. It wasn’t deliberate. Her mom had a lot of spinning plates at the moment. “I got a call a couple of weeks ago from a sportswear company headquartered in Lexington. BigSky Corporation is known for their popular graphical designs. They’re really gorgeous. Anyway, they asked me to provide a four-day team-building workshop based at Hemlock Lodge in Natural Bridge State Park.”

  “That sounds like the kind of challenge you love. What’s the format?”

  “Basically, it’s a series of games, competitions, and challenges. On the first day, we hike the trail to Balanced Rock and draw with charcoal. We lunch here at the farmhouse, then we tour the distillery and make up the mash for moonshine in my brand-new tiny one-gallon sampler stills. That’s followed by a nature-photography event, then some outdoor stew preparation.”

  “That sounds like something that should suit you right down to the ground. I don’t understand why you’re so wrought up.”

  Miranda pursed her lips. “That’s just day one. On day two, we tackle a rope-bridge challenge, have a boxed lunch followed by a watercolor lesson at Rock Bridge, then everyone makes chicken potpie here at the farmhouse and checks the flavoring of the moonshine mash.”

  Dorothy shook her head. “My, oh my. That’s a lot to get through. No wonder you’re feeling stretched thin. What’s on for the third day?”

  “We start off with an aerial rope event at that zip-line roadside attraction over in Slade. Then we have an eco-friendly scavenger hunt, and for the artistic event, we make table centerpieces with the items collected. The cooking events are pie baking and then using your ancient sourdough starter for dinner rolls.”

  “You mean Viola?”

  “Yes, although I’ll never get used to the way you treat that starter like it was alive.”

  “It is alive! Family tradition demands that you name it after the person who gave it to you. That’s a pleasant way of sharing the love in the bread.”

  “Then on the last day, everyone pulls together to create a traditional Thanksgiving dinner where we celebrate the team and finish off with the moonshine that everyone helped to create.”

  “I’m exhausted just hearing about it. You do see the irony here, don’t you?”

  Miranda pouted. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “It’s so funny. You, who is a world-class worrier as well as an introvert, is teaching a team-building workshop when you’re not sure if your Paint and Shine business will make it.”

  Miranda gave her mom a sad smile. “Nailed it. Well, it’s also one of my strengths. I relate to loners. You remember that’s what Grandma used to say: ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.’ ”

  “I think this might be a bit too far. Do you have enough help? Should I postpone my trip to Dayton? I could do that.”

  Miranda grabbed Sandy and snuggled him up under her chin. “No way. You need to get that house sold. I won’t risk it. You’ve gotten a really good offer for that house. I’ll have the Hobb sisters for kitchen work and the BigSky Corporation is sending a manager to assist with wrangling the candidates. They’re supposed to be in line for some sort of special fast-track management program depending on their performance in the workshop.”

  “So why are you worried?”

  “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I worry just to feed my habit of being a great worrier. You know that.”

  “Yes, but this business is all about what you enjoy. You should be enjoying it.”

  “When I stop to think about it, I am.” Miranda paused for a few seconds. “I’ve been working on my people skills, and the art gallery job I had up in New York City was super for learning how to approach people and close sales.”

  “That’s right, you are more confident. So, why are you so worried?”

  “It lasts four days. Four whole long days. I’ve never done anything like it, but since the tourist numbers were falling, it seemed like a gift.”

  “This is normally a slow time for sightseers and tourists. It’s the weekend before Thanksgiving, and lots of folks are already on their way to family gatherings, not cultural touring adventures.”

  “I did wonder why they wanted this particular time. Although most of the fall colors are still on the trees, one heavy rain will strip them down to bare branches.”

  “It’s already cold up on the ridges and cliffs right now.”

  “Right, I’ll know better when I’ve been in business for a couple of years.” Miranda sighed deeply. “If I last that long. Who knows if I’ll even be in business a year from now—or even a month from now? Most new businesses fail in the first year. These last few weeks have been a whirlwind introduction to cultural touring.”

  Dorothy patted Miranda on the shoulder. “Dear, I know you think you’re the cause of the tragedies surrounding your new Paint and Shine business, but violence is a natural part of living out here in the highlands. We’re from a rough and determined stock of Scotch Irish. The Hatfield-McCoy feud is not a fairy tale. There are some that say it’s still running.”

  “I’m learning that.” Miranda scratched Sandy’s full belly. They sat swinging with the only sounds coming from country night. She picked out a barn owl, a coyote, and finally the cricket from inside the house. She had been trying to evict him for several weeks with no luck. Was he good luck or bad? She couldn’t remember.

  Dorothy took a long sip of her tea. “I feel bad about going back to Dayton right now. It’s even worse since Ron the Handyman”—she stopped and smiled when she said his name—“has taken a big job over in Jackson. I think you are going to need all the help you can get.”

  “It’s not a problem, Mom. You’re lucky that the house sold so quickly. Going back and forth is just too much hassle. Especially since Ron proposed.”

  Dorothy began folding the quilt off her lap. “Are you sure?”

  “Don’t make me repeat that whole string of reasoning. We’ve already been through that. When is your closing?”

  “Monday morning.” Dorothy drained her cup. “In fact, I’d better get on the road. Friday nights are always a nightmare going through Cincinnati. It used to be that the backups were for those coming south. Now, it seems just as bad whichever direction you’re going.”

  Miranda glanced at her wristwatch. “Right, if you leave now, you should be just ahead of the rush.” She took Sandy in her arms and walked down to the driveway with her mom.

  Dorothy tickled Sandy under his chin. “You be a good puppy now, okay? Watch over Miranda for me.”

  With a feeling of intense isolation, Miranda watched her mom’s car drive away. She hadn’t fully considered how much she would miss how her mom had been helping her with the tiny tasks that kept a household going while Miranda concentrated on her small business. Such as laundry, dusting, and keeping food in the refrigerator.

  The phone rang and Miranda felt annoyed but pushed that aside. She was determined to secure her ownership of this homestead farmhouse. All she needed to do was keep her schedule full enough to make a decent profit. Her uncle’s will stipulated that she needed to pay her taxes and establish a licensed moonshine distillery within ninety days of his death. She was
close to achieving both so she could enjoy this wonderful country life. She went inside, put Sandy down, and picked up the handset.

  “I’ve got more changes,” said Mr. Tobin, vice president of human resources of BigSky, the world-famous manufacturer of sportswear.

  “Good evening, Mr. Tobin. More changes? It’s a little late, don’t you think? The workshop starts tomorrow morning.”

  He paused. “What did you say? Is this connection bad? I need more changes.”

  Miranda sighed. He wasn’t listening to her at all. “What kind of changes?”

  “Two things. First, I want to split the workshop into two teams. Then I want them to compete against each other for a big reward. That should elevate the focus with the workshop participants. This is not going to be merely fun time in the mountains.”

  Miranda thought about the activities she’d planned for the workshop. Grudgingly she admitted to herself that those were good ideas. He might be annoying, but he was a creative businessman. “I agree, Mr. Tobin. A competition will add some spirit to the events, but won’t there be some sort of scoring and evaluation tasks? I’m not set up for that kind of paperwork, and I couldn’t just add that without significant extra fees.”

  “No, I see that. Don’t worry, I’ll handle those processes.”

  His tone made her feel like a dolt for mentioning it. It was demeaning.

  Mr. Tobin continued, “Also, since there’s going to be some scoring and assessment tasks, I’m going to send my administrative assistant. She’ll handle all the paperwork.”

  “That’s good. Who is it?”

  “Rowena Gardner.”

  “Rowena Gardner? That’s an unusual name. I think I know her if she’s from Dayton, Ohio.”

  “She commutes into the plant from Winchester, but if I remember from her application, I think she got an associate degree from a junior college in Dayton, Ohio. Anyway, she doesn’t have a local accent and she’s an efficient admin.”

  “Rowena was the star organizer of our class back at Colonel White High School. If I’m remembering right, she was president of the Honor Society, captain of the cheerleaders, and also our class president.”

  “That sounds like her.”

  Oh my goodness, if this is Rowena, it’s bound to be an omen that this workshop will be a fantastic success. She’s a little odd, but a good organizer. We were great friends.

  Miranda frowned. “Wait, that means you’re adding a person to the total participants?”

  “You don’t need to charge me for that, she won’t be participating in the events.”

  That weasel, he’s trying to lowball me on the price. He’s not getting away with it.

  “Well, that’s fine, but she will need to eat if she’s going to tag along with the competitors to make scoring assessments. In fact, it will be the same as your special-meals-only fee. Right?”

  There was a short pause. “Oh, very well. That won’t cost much. She’ll join you tomorrow morning for the eight o’clock orientation meeting at Hemlock Lodge.” There was another pause. “Hold for a second. I’ve got another call.”

  He switched her on hold before she could agree. She thought that if this was how corporate types ran things, she was glad she didn’t work for a big company. Not her cup of tea at all.

  “That was bad news, so I won’t be coming out tomorrow to lead the workshop. I’ve got a labor union emergency over at the manufacturing plant in Louisville. They’ve chosen the holiday rush because they know that we can’t afford any production losses leading up to Black Friday. I’ve got to handle it in person.”

  Miranda raised her eyebrows. This would go much smoother if he wasn’t around. “That’s too bad, but I’ve got everything all lined up. It will be fine.”

  “Oh, not to worry. I’m sending over a substitute manager to take my place.”

  Miranda gritted her teeth. Just many last-minute changes was she supposed to deal with?

  “Perfect! Who is it?”

  He ended the call.

  Miranda replaced the handset into its charger. “It would be nice to know who this new supervisor is,” she said to the empty room.

  As she started back out onto the porch, the phone rang again.

  “Hello, this is Paint and Shine, your source for cultural tours in the Kentucky Highlands.”

  “Hi, Miranda. It’s Rowena Gardner. You sound just the same as you did in high school. Way more professional, though.”

  Miranda laughed. “Hi, Rowena. It is you. I couldn’t believe it when Mr. Tobin mentioned your name. You sound the same, too.”

  That voice brought back a memory of them trying out for the cheerleader team in their high school gym uniforms. Rowena’s long dark hair and olive skin in the school’s salmon suit fit her curvy shape in all the right places. On the other hand, back in those days Miranda’s figure had yet to appear. She didn’t blossom until the following year.

  “It’s great to hear that we’ll be working together. Although Mr. Tobin didn’t seem to know much about your past.”

  “I am not surprised. He doesn’t see any of his underlings as worth getting to know. Anyway, he’s sending me over to help manage the workshop. Apparently Mr. Tobin is going to make this workshop competition a strategy for his recruitment goals for the new year. I’m not sure what he had in mind, but I’m sure it will be a passel of trouble.”

  “Are you staying up at the lodge?”

  “No way. Mr. Tobin won’t spring for the extra expense. I’ll be going back and forth from Winchester every day. It’s not a problem, I’m used to driving to the Lexington office. Driving to Hemlock Lodge would be fine.”

  “That’s nonsense. You can stay with me.”

  Sandy had patrolled all the rooms in the farmhouse as soon as Miranda set him down. Now he was back at her feet and nipping at her ankles. “Stop that.”

  “Stop what?” Rowena asked.

  “Sorry, it’s not you, it’s my puppy, Sandy. He wants some attention. Where was I? Oh, if you stay here, you’ll be right on the spot for any problems that might come up. Plus, we can catch up on old times before the event gets underway. I think it going to be fantastic, but I expect we’ll be run off our feet. Please come.”

  “Really? You mean that? Are you sure I won’t be putting you out just when you’ll be busy keeping all these candidates focused on your workshop?”

  Miranda laughed. “Actually, I would be taking advantage of you in helping to keep everything running smoothly. My mom has gone back to Dayton to close the sale of her house. You could take her room.”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Come on. We have so much catching up to do. It would be more fun to do that before the madness begins. Please, come. Pretty please?”

  “Well,” chuckled Rowena, “how can I possibly resist a pretty please?”

  “Great. Come on over tonight and we can have a nice long chat before the workshop starts. Mom’s bedroom is upstairs, so it comes with some privacy. It also has a desk, and I finally have great Wi-Fi connectivity. You’ll love it.”

  “Perfect, but I’ll bring over some wine. Luckily, I brought my laptop home from work today. Somehow I knew I might be required at the last minute. Mr. Tobin is not big on well–thought-out plans, as usual. I’ll pack up and be at your place in a couple of hours. Text me your address.”

  Miranda sent the text and then refreshed things in her mom’s upstairs bedroom. She changed the sheets, replaced the quilt with a fresh one, and cleared out a space in the top drawer of the dresser. She also removed a few of her Mother’s clothes to give Rowena a slim slot in the closet.

  To chase the lingering scent of her mom’s cologne from the bedroom, she opened the front window. It looked out over the dirt road that ran by the farmhouse. Her last touches were to set out fresh towels, put a carafe of water on the nightstand, and set a vase of wildflowers on the desk. Miranda dusted all the furniture, then gave the floor a quick sweep. All was in visitor-perfect shape.

  Rowena arrived
at the farmhouse a few hours later in a clean but elderly blue Ford Fiesta. Miranda ran to the car and they squealed their delight. She gave Rowena a giant hug standing right in front of the open car door.

  “Rowena! You look wonderful. What have you done to your hair? My memory might be tricking me, but I thought it was straight—stick straight in fact. Now it’s curly and absolutely gorgeous.”

  “I stopped trying to make it stay straight. This is my natural hair, and I’m happier not worrying about it. It takes me no time at all to get ready for work now.”

  “I love it. It suits you. Let’s get your luggage put away.” Rowena pulled a small wheeled suitcase out of the trunk. She also had a backpack that held her work laptop and its electronic paraphernalia, and a large black handbag. Then, finally, a special office box containing hanging folders of papers for the workshop participants. Miranda picked up the file box. “Go right on into the house and up the stairs that are in the dining room. Go right on through the storage area. The bedroom is at the front of the house. There’s a small desk right in front of the window for you.”

  Miranda followed a few paces behind. Rowena stood in front of the desk and looked around the room. “This is delightful. So cozy. Is that one of your grandmother’s quilts?”

  “Yep, I’m knee-deep in them. That sounds like I’m complaining, doesn’t it? I’m grateful that she’s still able to keep up with her main pleasure in life.” Miranda placed the box on the small desk. “Would you like a worktable as well? I have several sizes.”

  “I can see you’re used to working out of the office. Yes, please. I could use a small table, thank you very much.” Miranda went to get it while Rowena opened her suitcase and stowed away her clothes in the mirrored dresser and in the small closet.

  After she set up her laptop and work materials on the desk and portable table, Rowena pulled out a bottle of Shiraz from her suitcase. “I just grabbed this from my wine rack. It’s an Australian blend that most people like.” Then she lifted her eyebrows for a moment. “Plus, it has a screw top and I don’t have to show you how terrible I am at opening a bottle of wine.”