The Painting

#2 The Guest - An Aoi

"Once you're done here will you lock up?" Grace asked as she suddenly appeared at my side placing her hand lightly on my shoulder. She had a way of doing that - appearing almost out of nowhere- it was as if she floated rather than walked. Or maybe I was simply too wrapped up in my own thoughts to register the taps of her favorite strappy sandals.

I looked up from the dishwater that was starting to run cold and nodded. We exchanged a content yet exhausted smile - or exhausted on my part at least- I'd never seen Grace tired.

"The last guest just checked in for the night! Can you believe it? We only have two rooms open for the rest of the week!" She went on, her voice and mood taking an immediate positive effect on my own as I watched her do a small dance around me. "That website is starting to pay off, didn't I tell you?" She gushed striking a dramatic pose as if she were Wonder Woman

"You sure did." I smiled. It was - as I had found - impossible not to smile around Grace. This stone cold scientific fact is why I believe Grace was born to run the White Pine Bed and Breakfast. She was a natural hostess, and just couldn't turn off her charm or enthusiasm.

"You're on for breakfast tomorrow! Don't forget!" She reminded as she walked backwards toward the side door of the kitchen while shooting finger guns in my direction.

"I'm making pancakes." I wriggled my shoulders awkwardly, trying to play off her exuberant energy.

"May Ellis, you make pancakes every morning. When are you going to branch out a little bit with your breakfast food repertoire?" She playfully scolded placing her hands on her hips.

"Everybody likes pancakes." I shrugged.

"Good lord." Grace muttered in good humor as she turned her back to me and exited the main building for the night.

"Night." I called after her, careful not wake the guests on the main level.

As I watched her walk to her cabin from the window above the sink it began to drizzle causing her to lift her hands up in a small rain dance welcoming the change in weather. My own hand found its way subconsciously to the locket around my neck and I stood in silence for a few moments.

After the reopening of the White Pine Bed and Breakfast a little less than three years ago, we were now in full swing - with more than enough to keep us busy. As Grace had promised she hired two part time workers to help with the cleaning and customer service for our eight rooms. Although business was steady Grace had taken it upon herself to "launch us into the technological age". Her epiphany, although it came after a few glasses of wine, was to create a website for the B&B. Our customers of the past were all referred to by word of mouth or the towns travel agency. Our customers of the future could simply Google, as Grace put it "best friggin' B&B in Maine" and we would pop up.

To create the webpage Grace was adamant that we hire a professional photographer to showcase the B&B. She wanted only the best for 'her baby' as she had come to call the Tudor style home. I didn't argue with her, and when the website was finished a month later I was the first person Grace showed.

My heart jumped when I saw the landing page. There sitting under the elegant white script of White Pine Bed & Breakfast was a photograph of the lobby. However, most of the lobby had been cropped out, instead the composition was centered around the back wall. You could almost make out the hand written title on the paintings frame. It was my mother's work, Mo Soileireacht, one of three that I'd loaned to White Pine and the only one that had not since been replaced.

I stared at the photo not knowing what to say. Grace waited anxiously beside me, I could almost feel her electric energy vibrating next to me. Because I never told Grace about my mother she still believed that I had painted Mo Soileireacht. I could tell that she felt this was a gift to me, to feature my work so prominently combined with her dream.