The Spell by Nancy J. Hedin

Author:Nancy J. Hedin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LGBTQIA+, Lit, paranormal, lesbian, bisexual, magical realism, humor, painter, magic user, spell, real estate broker, police officer
Publisher: NineStar Press, LLC
Published: 2021-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Seventeen

Where’s My Paint?

For the second time that day Jewel was awakened from sound sleep.

“What did you do?” Waverly shook Jewel by the shoulders.

“Get off me, unless you want to cuddle.”

“I don’t want to cuddle. You know, you’re just going to have to paint her again.”

“Paint who?” Jewel yawned.

“Camille.” Waverly slugged Jewel in the arm.

“Oh no, I’m not painting Camille ever again. You can’t make me. You said one, and I did that.”

“Yes, and then you sold it.”

“Sold it. I did not. You know I never sell anything.”

“David told me. Don’t deny it.”

“You talked to David? Is he here?” Jewel looked around. She recognized she was in her own bed in her own apartment. She grabbed Waverly’s arm before she hit her again. “Waverly, stop hitting me. I’ve spent all my time since you told me your plan working on that painting—well, besides the short time with Louise, but that shouldn’t really count.”

At the naming of another woman, Waverly was incensed, but before she could say anything, Jewel went on, “I painted Camille like you wanted. It’s at David’s gallery. It’s yours. She’s yours.”

“Jewel, I was just at the gallery. I talked to David. He said that he sold it.”

The next step was obvious to both Waverly and Jewel. They had reached an impasse that could only be resolved by going to the gallery.

“I’ll drive,” Waverly said and looked at her cell phone as Jewel followed her outside to the car. “Damn it, another call and text from Jack. I don’t have time for his neediness.”

Jewel got in the passenger side. “I’m sorry I don’t smell very good. I just went to bed. I didn’t even shower yet.”

“It’s okay. You’re probably hungry. There’s a granola bar in my bag.”

“Twigs and ash? I’m not that hungry.”

“Fine.”

When they arrived, Jewel led Waverly through the front gallery into the back studio. “See! Wait, David, where’s my painting?”

“She means where’s my painting?” Waverly said.

“Painting is gone, but here’s your check, less my fifty percent commission.” David held out a check to Jewel.

“Check? Commission? You weren’t supposed to sell that painting.”

“You said I could as long as I got at least five thousand. I got six. This is your half.” David turned to Waverly. “It is amazing what out-of-towners will pay for original art from a budding new artist.” David turned back to Jewel and started to hug her but aborted the effort when he could smell her unwashed body and clothes and saw the look on her face. “What’s wrong? Six thousand dollars. He’d probably buy more if you used the same subject. He said the woman looked exactly like his wife.”

Waverly and Jewel looked at each other. “No.” Then they looked back at David and barraged him with questions.

“Who was he?”

“Was he tall, handsome, with sparkly blue eyes and inordinately straight white teeth?”

“Was his name Jack?”

“Yes, yes, and yes. How do you know all this and not know that I sold the painting?”

Waverly didn’t answer David or explain anything to him. Jewel called over her shoulder, “Don’t spend that money,” as they darted from the gallery into Waverly’s car.

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