The Snow Queen by Florence Witkop

Author:Florence Witkop [Witkop, Florence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Forget Me Not Romances, an imprint of Winged Publications
Published: 2019-12-26T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Considering the grumpy voice in the other room, staying in the kitchen seemed the best option so I turned on the ceiling fan and waited for the smell of dinner to draw him there and eventually, about the time my stomach was rumbling so badly that I was ready to eat without him, he came. One look at his face said he’d not been successful.

“Did you find anyone?” I pretended not to know how the phone calls had turned out, feeling somewhat lost as to how to proceed because, until now, there’d been no need to be diplomatic with Jase. Until now he’d been the diplomat and I’d blurted out whatever I felt like saying.

He sank into the empty chair at the table and I scurried to get him a plate of food though he’d gotten his own before then. This action on his part must mean things were really bad and it turned out that I was right. “No luck.” He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe his lack of success. “Everyone is either busy or has gone south for the winter.” In his voice was surprise that anyone would leave the wonderland of the north woods in winter. Then he said it again. “No one at all. I’ll have to close the Center.”

I took a deep breath and wondered if I’d hate myself later for what I was about to say. “I don’t have to be back at any particular time. I can stick around for a while.”

His eyes raised to mine. “Really? Don’t you have a job you must get back to?”

I scowled because I’d heard this refrain many times because few people believe artists can make a living with their art. “I’m an artist. Painting pictures is my job and I can and do set my own schedule.”

Something appeared in the back of his eyes. A light. A hope. But his words were carefully spaced as he slowly asked, “Don’t you have a studio somewhere where you work?”

Did I? I laughed, picturing my so-called studio. “I’m a professional artist to the extent that I don’t need a day job but –” I took a deep breath and decided to be honest. “But the reason I don’t need a second job is that I live in a tiny, cramped, one-room apartment that doubles as my studio.”

I closed my eyes and mentally counted the half-finished pictures that littered that room. “I can’t have company because there’s no place for them to sit. Or walk. Or even stand and I pretty much crawl around and over pictures and equipment to get wherever I need to be.” Cooking was a challenge.

That light – the hope -- in the back of his eyes grew as he cut his pork chop into precise, square pieces and took a bite. Precise as in matching his thoughts? His next words didn’t clarify anything as he asked, “Is your studio portable?”

“Huh?” The question was the last I’d expected and I was clueless

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.