Page 65 of The Christmas Blueprint

“I’m glad Gran sent me over here to help,” Maeve said. “It’s good to see something new happening in this town. And I love that you painted the metal grids copper. I’m starting to see the concept of this building, which is surprisingly cool for Bear Creek. I’m not sure the citizens can handle it. The mayor and his father might stroke out.”

“I think that’s the point,” Elaine said, looking at him slyly.

“I am the city planner.” Killian tried as best he could to look neutral. “The mayor is my boss.”

“The citizens are your boss,” Elaine harumphed. “Jeffrey had his king fantasy even as a young boy when I attempted to instruct him in Sunday school.”

“Small towns.” Maeve laughed. “Everyone knows your quirks.”

“There are just as many shenanigans in big cities, Maeve. I’m surprised you haven’t learned that by now.”

“Oh, I’ve learned it.” Maeve’s face turned pensive and then she looked away. “Why do you think I came home for Christmas early?”

“Because I asked you.”

“About a dozen times.” Maeve brightened up with what looked like an effort. “Don’t worry. I brought my gardening gloves and festive spirit so that I can be a wreath-making assistant. Sophia’s even making me wear an elf hat.”

She didn’t sound happy about that.

“It’s good not to take yourself seriously all of the time.”

Maeve didn’t answer. Instead, she looked at each of the twelve paintings that not only had Elaine True parted with and hung up in a public space as if Bear Creek suddenly had its first gallery, she’d even allowed Maeve to make price stickers and set up a Square account for sales.

“At this point, I’d settle for being taken seriously half the time.” Maeve crossed her long, thin arms as she moodily stared at the different paintings. “Grams, why roosters?” Maeve asked. “They used to terrorize us when we first came to live with you as kids.”

“Why not roosters? They were my children before you three blessedly entered my life.”

Maeve played with the positioning of the two gallery walls—pushing them further away from the tables where the class would be taught and the space, marked out for the latte cart, but still close enough to intrigue and invite a look.

She frowned and then made another adjustment. “The paintings are…I don’t know how to describe them, Gran. Different. Eerie. They look alive, and somehow you captured the personality in each bird.”

Killian was personally a little creeped out by the rooster paintings. They did look alive. He’d been a little hesitant to accept them—not the vibe he had in mind—but Elaine had told him Sophia wanted an art gallery in the Mill Market and wanted her to provide samples.

“That’s because they each have a personality,” Elaine said.

“They’re super cool. I’ll give you that. Absurd and surreal. It looks like you were snacking on the wrong kind of mushrooms after you and Caesar went truffle hunting and then got down to painting.”

“How do you know I didn’t?” Elaine asked and then laughed at Maeve’s scandalized expression. “I like that I can still surprise you girls.”

“Girls.” Maeve laughed. “Listen to her, reassigning your gender.”

Killian had been practically mainlining from his Keurig in the trailer, and he nearly choked on his coffee.

“It will be girls soon enough,” Elaine said. “I aim to have Ruby and Lyric here by next week to help me with the Christmas Market and perhaps another art show—landscapes or nudes.”

“Stop trying to shock Killian,” Maeve said, amused. “And what changed your mind so that you’re willing to sell your art again, grams?”

“Sophia’s been on me for years, but it didn’t feel right, and then when I saw what was happening and the open house, I thought Sophia was right. This place needs an art gallery, and I need to start putting my art out there again.” She looked at Maeve a little slyly. “I have been very busy creating a new, bolder style.”

“Bold?” Maeve asked, looking at a rooster.

“Not those. How do you know I don’t hire nude models to come out to my studio and pose for me?”

“I’m not,” Maeve said. “But I trust the Bear Creek gossip posse, and if you had gotten up to any—what did you call it? Shenanigans?—I’m sure I would have heard about it from about twenty scandalized people.”

“Probably the mayor would have been first on the phone, trying to get one of you girls to lock me up in a home so that he could have a stab at stealing your legacy.”

Maeve sighed. “Gram, Mayor Bane can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

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