7| Letting Go

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Eva rotated the image, eyes squinted in ruthless study. Today was a day where the creative muse in her was playing hard to get. Nothing was going right. Not a damn thing. The noise emanating from her usually quiet gallery was not helping matters, either. Didn't people realize she had work to do here? This wasn't a museum or a damn tourist attraction, but a place for art.

Serious art. How the hell was she supposed to get anything done with all that noise?

Then the door to her office swept open and the chaos spilled in like a flood.

"Out," Eva barked without bothering to pull her eyes away from the screen. "And shut the door behind you."

"Easy, Hilter," Jenelle scoffed. "God, were slammed today. I really think we should consider taking on some additional help, if this keeps up."

"Yeah, yeah, so you've said only a dozen times since I got in this morning. Out. Now."

"Aren't you a ray of sunshine today? I'm only back here because you have a call."

Eva's lip curled. More reporters, no doubt. "Take a message."

"As much as I love playing your little grunt," Jenelle narrowed the door behind her, sealing them inside of Eva's tiny space, "you can take your own messages, thank you. Besides, it's your Uncle. Says it's important."

Now Eva did look at her, eyes glazed from hours spent in deep, artistic scrutiny. Otherwise known as the seventh circle of Hell. "Uncle?"

"Jerry," Jenelle said the name slowly and with a hint of reservation.

"Oh. Right." Eva snapped to her feet a little too quick and struggled to regain her calm, placid demeanour. "I'll take it in here."

"Sure. Okay." Jenelle hesitated at the doorway. "Line four. You press that button next to the blinking thingy."

When the door was completely shut behind her, Eva waited for the count of ten before answering the line. "Jerry?"

"Kiddo." The familiar grating voice crackled across the line like pop rocks. A voice she hadn't heard in at least six months. "How's it going?"

"Fine." Sitting on the edge of her desk, Eva banded arm across her chest. "Why did you call here? I thought you were supposed to only reach me on my cell?"

"Tried. All afternoon. Couldn't get through. Wanted to get back to you about your email from last week."

Eva thumbed around her cluttered workspace and found her cell, the screen blank. Her thumb worked the side button. Not so much as a blip. "Oh, guess my battery died. I've been so caught up I forgot to charge it."

"Never you mind. Happens. Got you here, didn't I? We need to talk 'bout a couple of things. Now good?"

"Yeah. Now's fine." Anxiously, Eva peered back to her door, half expecting Jenelle to burst in, or worse, to find her hovering outside, listening to every word. "What's going on?"

"Spoke to Allan, down at the Attorney Generals. They've untangled the mess of your paperwork and are now able to make good on the backed-up funds."

Eva's heart skipped and seized with glee. "Took them long enough!"

"You're telling me. Anyhow, they've cut the cheque and are mailing it out to us tomorrow. Should have it deposited and wired out within a week." She heard the shuffling of papers, a muttered oath. "All...twenty-seven thousand eight hundred dollars and twelve cents."

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