Knight Nostalgia: A Knights of the Board Room Anthology(36)



“Give me those,” Ben said, nipping them from her hand. “Price is not your concern today. Actually, any day, since I know what Jon makes. If he’s not bankrupting himself on gadgets, he wants to be spending his money on you. I was just awestruck by what women will pay for things they put on their feet.”

“Didn’t someone already mention the cost of your dress shirts?” Dana asked. “The ones you could get lookalikes from JC Penney at a percent of the cost?”

“Do you want those red shoes, or do you want to bust my balls?”

“Can’t I do both?”



The next stop was the “poppy” store. Otherwise known as the J. Wallace Art Gallery, it had extensive offerings in various mediums from New Orleans artists, as well as pieces the gallery owner collected from around the world. With Max as an escort, Dana decided to walk down to a nearby candy store to get some snacks.

“The gallery folks wouldn’t take too kindly to me ‘seeing’ their pricey 3D pieces with my hands,” she noted.

“I bet they have a kid area where you can play with Fisher Price blocks,” Ben responded.

“Just for that, not bringing you back a praline,” Dana said, linking her arm with Max’s, her fingers curling over his substantial biceps.

Ben grinned and followed the other women into the gallery. He took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs at the front, a useful indulgence for patrons not in the mood for art gazing, but who wanted to give their companions time to do so. It let him people-watch, or, in this case, women-watch. As she’d mentioned, Savannah was obviously looking for whimsical pieces for the nursery. The gallery had a couple items on loan from the Blue Dog gallery up the street, so she’d stopped before one that showed the iconic blue dogs in four different colored squares. He anticipated a print of it might become the next piece in Angelica’s room.

While Savannah and Matt had enough money to buy original art, neither of them cared to spend impractically. Since she changed out the art regularly in the baby’s room, a print would be more than sufficient. Always observant, Savannah noted his regard and gave him an absent half smile he returned. Then she shifted her attention back to her art perusal and moved onward.

Rachel was moving from piece to piece in a slow glide. She wouldn’t buy anything here, since she was far more likely to pick up simple nature scenes in junk shops or use one of her crafty ideas to form art out of the rocks and plants surrounding their property. But she enjoyed beauty, so she explored the area more like a museum visitor, absorbing the content with obvious relaxed enjoyment.

Then Ben turned his attention to Cass. Though she hadn’t indicated she was looking for anything in particular, it seemed one specific item had captured her attention in the new arrivals area. The piece was large, since she had her head tilted up, and the side of the thick wooden frame traversed six feet of the wall. However, from his vantage point, Ben couldn’t see the subject matter.

Marcie stopped beside her and looked up at it. For an instant, their expressions were almost identical, an unexpected sadness mixed with appreciation for the work. Marcie slid her arm around Cass’s waist and Cass leaned against her, another unexpected reaction. Ben’s brow creased. Marcie spoke to her and Cass nodded, gripping the hand at her waist. As the women moved onward, Marcie pointed to another couple pieces that seemed to lighten both their moods, since Cass chuckled, the pleasant, feminine sound reaching Ben’s ears.

However, as they moved up the stairs toward the gallery’s second level, Marcie glanced toward Ben over Cass’s shoulder. She twitched her chin in a significant yet subtle movement toward the painting they’d left. Ben nodded, understanding, and Marcie returned to talking to her sister.

After they disappeared out of view, he rose and moved to the painting. When he stood before it, he instantly understood why the two sisters had reacted to it as they had. It was a Buddhist monastery in the mountains, the structure nestled in among trees and rock, a star-strewn and moonlit sky cloaking it all. The title of the painting was “Peace at Last.”

Marcie and Cassandra’s oldest brother, Jeremy, had died recently, the result of a lifelong battle with drug addiction. The grief, particularly for Cass, was still fresh. But during his final years, their troubled sibling had found peace at last at a monastery in Thailand, thanks to contacts Jon had in the area.

Ben moved to the employee manning the desk and quietly handled the transaction, instructing him that he’d pick it up the following day. The employee, a young, fashionably dressed man in gray vest, white dress shirt and black slacks, understood Ben’s request for discretion and assured him he wouldn’t put a sold sign on the work while Cass was still in the store. His co-worker, another male twenty-something, nodded in vigorous agreement as he arranged frame pieces the two men had been discussing. Ben concluded he must work in the back, because he was covered with a light frosting of sawdust and wore jeans and a denim shirt.

As Ben returned to his seat, he thought about where Cass would put the picture. She’d probably have Lucas hang it on the back wall of the sunroom. It was her favorite reading, visiting and napping area. She’d frame the painting with the exotic plants she placed strategically amid the comfortable lounge furniture.

It wasn’t the usual thing, a man so intimately knowing the behaviors and preferences of his closest friends’ wives, but then they weren’t the usual kind of group. Proof of his thoughts, Savannah and Rachel had found their way to the painting, and, almost at the same time, they glanced toward him. He gave them a slight nod, confirming he’d already made the purchase, and Savannah’s expression warmed as Rachel smiled.

Joey W. Hill's Books