Chapter 9 #2
“Oh, that’s great to hear too,” she muttered. “Now I don’t want to do anything to help people.”
“Of course not,” he noted, with a sigh. “I do know this from personal experience. Some people are looking for more than they often get with us, and they seem to think, just because we have a contract in place to sell an item, that same contract would guarantee them a certain set price, but it just doesn’t work that way. ”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed, “and that would be foolish on their part.”
“But people—”
“Will be people,” she finished for him.
“Yes, as I’m starting to find out over and over again.” Scott laughed. “It’s just sound business advice, Doreen.”
“And thank you for that. … I’ll talk to Mack and see what time frame we’re looking at to get down to Vancouver and to start dealing with some of Mathew’s stuff.”
“And you really think he had some valuables down there?” he asked curiously.
She snorted. “Yes, I know he did. He had a temperature-controlled room for the paintings, but, if you ask me what paintings, I couldn’t tell you.”
He groaned. “You know that’s a tease for a guy like me, don’t you?”
“For you probably,” she agreed, half snickering. “For me, absolutely not. He would tell me what it was, and then he would say things like, You don’t even know what that is, so no point in telling you more.”
“So, for you, this is just something to move out of your life,” he pointed out. “However, for me, who may have never seen some of these particular artworks in person, it will be a fascinating process.”
“Let’s hope I can get there sooner, rather than later,” she muttered, “but it will be a while still.”
“Understood,” Scott said cheerfully, and, with that, he ended the call.
She immediately contacted Nick.
“Hey,” he greeted her. “Problems?”
“Not so much problems, just a question.” Then she explained Scott’s concerns about potential litigation.
Nick whistled and replied, “He’s quite correct. Just because you want to help doesn’t mean everybody will take the help as being a good thing. And, once people find out you have money, then you will more likely have to deal with issues along that line.”
“That’s not fair though,” she cried out. “How are you supposed to help people if everybody just wants to turn around and take something from you?”
“I don’t have any set rules as to the rights or wrongs in any of this,” he explained, “but, if you do things on behalf of others, they need to sign a waiver that you aren’t responsible for the outcome, that they cannot sue you, and that there’s no reason for them to come back against you and bad-mouth you or cause you any other harm. ”
“Oh, wow,” she muttered.
“I know, but Scott’s right, and … I should have thought of that ahead of time.”
“It’s not as if I haven’t kept you busy,” she muttered. “Not to mention you do have other clients.”
“I do, and yes, you’re right,” he confirmed, “but still it is a concern. It’s not something that I handle myself very much, but I do have another colleague here who does, so let me talk to him. I’ll explain what the issue is, and we’ll see what we can come up with.”
With that, Doreen had to be satisfied, so she ended the call. Then she checked the time and noted that she was getting close to her portrait appointment. Immediately she packed up the animals, looked up the address, and headed down to see the artist.
As she approached the address, she noted it was a new area of town for her.
It was Glenmore, but a little bit farther out than she was used to.
As she drove to the address, she saw the landscape turn into an emptier countryside, a spaciousness.
When she pulled into the driveway near an couple older-looking houses, she pulled up to the side, where a dirt road with a bit of gravel was around the main part of the house.
She frowned as she got out because, as much as she had liked the portrait work that she had seen online, it didn’t look as if any of his sales money went toward fixing up his house.
Then she also knew what that was like, and, if he was literally just making ends meet, then it also made sense.
She hoped that he was a decent artist because she really wanted to get this portrait done for Nan for her birthday in just a few days.
Considering Doreen was quickly running out of time, and everybody likely expected something unique from her, she hoped beyond hope that this would work out.
She walked up to the front door, thinking about all the fancy houses she had been in over her lifetime, but she felt a real sense of timeliness to this one.
It wasn’t so much not cared for but more about withstanding the passing of time.
And something was very appealing about that.
When the door opened, the woman in front of her frowned.
Doreen smiled. “Hi, I’m Doreen. I think I’m at the right place. I’m here for a sitting for pet pictures.”
The woman’s face cleared immediately, and she nodded. Ushering her inside, she noted, “Go straight down the hallway, then to the left.”
With the animals in tow, Doreen moved through the living room, noting that, although clean, it didn’t seem as if anybody had put any time or effort into updating the interior in decades.
She stepped into the other room as directed to see a man in a wheelchair, fussing over something on a table in front of him.
He looked up and glared.
She raised an eyebrow and noted, “I think I’m on time.”
His face cleared, and he groaned. “Sorry,” he muttered, giving her a look. “I was busy and lost track of time.”
“Yeah, that happens to me too.”
He eyed the dog and nodded. Then his gaze landed on the cat, and he frowned again. “I don’t know about the cat,” he shared. “Generally they don’t cooperate.”
“Maybe not most cats,” she clarified, with a bright smile, “but I think he might surprise you.”
“I doubt it. Cats are just generally cranky.”
“And some cats like having their pictures taken.” He stared at her in disbelief. She gave him a beaming smile and added, “I need all three of them in one portrait.”
“Three?” he asked. “I don’t see a third one.”
At that, Thaddeus poked his head out from under the curtain of her hair and cried out, “Thaddeus is here. Thaddeus is here.”
He stared at her in astonishment. “Good Lord.”
“Yes,” she replied, shifting her neck ever-so-slightly to ease the weight. “Thaddeus is also quite a character.”
“Well,” he muttered, frowning as he pondered it.
“You do pet portraits, right?”
“Yes, but I do one at a time.”
“And yet I told you on the phone that I had three animals,” she pointed out, hating the hint of desperation in her tone.
“And I explained that I would have to see them and that you would have to bring them here.”
She nodded. At that point, Mugs laid down, and Goliath walked over, stretched out beside him, sprawling up against his belly, tucked in between his legs, his head literally on Mugs’s front paws. The artist’s eyes lit up, and he immediately grabbed the camera and started taking a ton of photos.
“That is pretty amazing right there,” he admitted, as he kept talking excitedly, but he didn’t get any closer. She wasn’t sure whether it was the wheelchair or if he was choosing not to, just as part of his artistic work.
When he was done, he beamed. “Now that I can do.”
“I also need this one included too,” she added, pointing at her bird, still on her shoulder.
Danny frowned at that. Meanwhile, Thaddeus flew down to the floor, and Goliath lifted his head to watch him.
Then the cat flopped back down with Mugs.
Within seconds, Thaddeus had climbed atop of Mugs and settled in, as if showing the world that he was king of the castle.
Danny gave a bark of laughter, and just then Thaddeus put one foot on Mugs’ head, literally as if the king of the castle.
Snickering, Danny took several more photos. He turned to her and asked, “Is it okay if this portrait is more comedic?”
She nodded. “I’m not sure there’s any way to do a serious portrait, not considering this group of animals.”
He nodded. “It does seem as if they have quite the relationship.”
“Oh, they do,” she murmured. “They absolutely do. But they all love each other and go to great lengths to protect each other.”
He stared in wonder and added, “I’ve never seen a collection of pets like this.”
She didn’t say anything, just smiled.
“I think I can do something with this,” he declared, “and I’m really excited about the thought of trying.”
“Good,” she murmured, “because this would be for my grandmother.”
He nodded, not seeming to care who it was for. “When do you want it by?”
She gave him her grandmother’s birthday. He frowned, and she just waited. “It would be expensive,” he began.
Her eyebrows shot up because she had found no website for him and had seen no prices on his social media pages.
Yet she hadn’t asked for an estimate either.
He didn’t bring up that subject when they spoke on the phone either.
She was also fighting the priciness of everything right now.
Just because she had the money—and there was a difference between being frugal and just plain cheap—she wanted to watch her spending.
“How much?” she asked cautiously, not wanting to appear too interested either way.
He frowned as he thought about it and finally said, “Probably about five hundred.”
She considered that and then nodded. “As long as it’s a good rendition, then that would be fine.”
He glared at her. “Of course, it would be a good rendition.”
“I didn’t really see very much of your work, just those few photos on your social media pages,” she pointed out, “so pardon me. I’m not trying to insult you. I just don’t know what your work looks like in person.” When he eyed her in astonishment, she shrugged. “Not much was online.”
“Ah, well, there are definitely some pages on there that give you an idea. I am sure you can look up the pictures yourself.”