Page 93 of Saving Grace

He holds the door for me before punching the security code into the panel by the doors. I steal a moment to let it all soak in.

I work here.

I really work in a place surrounded by art.

With people who are as inspired and as obsessed with the industry as I am. Was, I guess. It’s been a minute. I’m so damn thrilled to be back amongst it.

“Alright. So, I will give you a more in-depth tour than last time,” Don says, waving me in further. “We’ll cover the amenities and schedule first. Then, you can wander and explore for a bit while I man the front. But at ten I have meetings, so you’ll be on reception and sales. Judy, our last teacher, used to use the computer at the desk to do up her lesson plans for classes.”

“Of course. Point me to where you need me. I’m keen to dive into the content. Do you offer all mediums?”

“Mostly. Pottery is out, though. No budget for a kiln. Most artistic processes we can handle. We try to fill most of the classes with skills that are attainable to folks in a few lessons, or thereabouts. Watercolors, oils, collage with mixed medium, etc. You’ll find the old lesson content on the computer. Aim for something similar, and you shouldn’t go wrong.”

“I can do that. And differing skill levels for the kids and adult sessions, I assume. Is there anything that you don’t offer the kids?”

“Ah, glitter. The last time we supplied that, we were still cleaning it from obscure places months later. Also, bit of hazard with some of the younger kids, they put everything in their mouths.” He chuckles.

I can well imagine.

After a tour of the amenities, he shows me how to log in to the computer, sets my login details up, and hands me a folder of the previous lessons and schedules. A list of resources is also laminated in the last clear slip pocket. Old school. But easy to use.

“Thank you, Don, this looks wonderful.”

I slide onto the tall swivel stool at the front reception desk as he excuses himself for his meeting. I meander through the computer, looking through vendors, suppliers, the contact database for local and regional artists, before I come to the lesson template.

“Bingo.”

I open the master and save a fresh one under a new name. Fingers hovering over the keyboard, I imagine all the wonderful projects I could set up for the classes. With three adult classes and two kid-focused sessions a week, there is so much potential.

I decide on my favorite to start out.

Oils.

Classes start in January after the holiday break. So, I have six weeks to organize my lesson plans, order supplies, make up the flyers, etc. Excitement bubbles up. It’s been a long time since I’ve had something to dive into with my whole mind and heart. Something that’s mine to bring to fruition.

The doorbell chimes. I look up from the screen.

“Happy first day!” the newcomers chime in chorus. Grins all around. Three of the happiest faces beaming at me. Louisa, Ruby, and Addy walk to the counter.

“Hi! What are you all doing here?” I slide off the stool and round the counter.

Louisa has me in her arms a second later. “We are so stinkin’ proud of you, sweetheart.”

I blush at her words.

Ruby wanders down one side of the gallery. “Wow, these are lovely.”

“How are you feelin’, Grace?” Addy says, her coat hiding her scrubs. She must have taken a break from her rounds to join the surprise visit.

“Great. Excited. A little nervous.”

“You will do great. Plus, maybe you could sell some of your artwork here when you have a chance to wear that easel in.”

Now heat flushes my face. I haven’t even had a chance to paint a thing since my birthday party. I have been otherwise occupied with Mack. Not that I would trade that time for anything else. Not even painting. But her words have me contemplating.

“I would lov?—”

“Nope!” Ruby raises a hand and walks to where we stand. “Grace, before you hang anything here, I have a proposition for you. Can you squeeze in a visit to R & R after work?”

---