The Babbling Brook Naked Poker Club by Ann Warner

Author:Ann Warner [Warner, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silky Stone Press
Published: 2019-12-24T22:00:00+00:00

The next morning, I awoke with an idea. It wasn’t yet organized enough to be called a plan, but it was better than the lurching from place to place I’d done the day before.

I ate a leisurely breakfast at Bob Evans, then entered the address for the Cincinnati Art Museum into my GPS. It was located in an area called Mount Adams, which I discovered was, in actual fact, a large hill overlooking the Ohio River and downtown Cincinnati.

The museum wouldn’t be open for another hour, so I parked and wandered around the area, stopping near a reflecting pool down the hill from the museum. Abundant leaves softened the path around the pond. I shuffled through them, enjoying the crisp sound, and discovered an additional overlook of the river and northern Kentucky. I took a seat on one of the park benches and watched runners and bicyclists whiz past with that view as the backdrop.

At eleven, I returned to the museum. General admission was free, so I spent an hour wandering the galleries before returning to the front desk and asking if it would be possible to meet the museum director. When I introduced myself as an art restorer visiting Cincinnati, I was granted an immediate appointment.

Miriam O’Pinsky was younger than I was expecting. With a wide smile, she walked around her desk to greet me. “We haven’t met, but I know you by reputation,” she said, extending a hand.

I felt a brief flash of alarm. “You do?”

“We recently had an exhibit where we had an art restorer working in one of our galleries so the public could see what was involved. Your name was suggested by one of the staff, and I did some checking before one of our current restorers agreed to take on the task.”

We smiled at each other while I searched for what to say next. I don’t interact with people much. Perhaps that’s what makes my profession so satisfying. Or perhaps I picked my profession because it meant I didn’t have to interact much.

“I’d love to give you a behind-the-scenes tour,” Miriam said, obviously much more at ease than I was. “But unfortunately I have a board meeting in a few minutes. However, if you’d like a tour, I could ask one of our curators to show you around.”

“Oh. Yes. I’d like that.”

What I wanted to do was ask Miriam what she knew about Norman Neuman. Or even if she knew him. But such a question would be impossible to just blurt out, so I opted for sticking around and meeting more of the staff as an alternate strategy. If that didn’t work, I might have to work out a dialogue and ask for a second meeting with Miriam.

“Let me give Devi McElroy a call,” Miriam said, returning to her desk.

We chatted briefly about art restoration while we waited for Devi, who arrived promptly. She was an attractive young woman approximately my age, and she had that shiny black hair so many Asian women do.

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