She bent and gave his head a rub. “What a love.”
“And a troublemaker.” He was a mix of long-haired Chihuahua and who knew what else. My best guess was that he was part gremlin.
Gizmo twisted his head back towards me, and I swore he glared.
The woman chuckled as she stood. “Chihuahuas always seem to make up for their size with their personality.”
I couldn’t hold in my laugh. “That they do.”
“Have a good day.”
“You, too,” I said, giving her a wave. I started forward, then waited for Gizmo to follow. “Come on. Don’t sulk. You know you’re my favorite.”
Gizmo lifted his chin in the air and moved down the sidewalk towards The Gallery. I shook my head and took a sip of my coffee. Wolf Gap’s streets were mostly quiet at eight in the morning. The cold meant fewer tourists, and most locals stayed warm at home until it was time for them to make their way to work.
I looped the leash over my wrist and pulled my keys out of my pocket. I was just about to slide them into the lock when Gillian pulled the door open.
“Get in here before you freeze to death. Every year, I swear I’m leaving these mountains and moving to Costa Rica.”
“And every year when spring comes, you change your mind,” I finished for her as I stepped inside.
She shut the door and crouched to greet Gizmo, who pushed his head into her hand. She looked up at me. “It’s not nice to be a know-it-all.”
I laughed. “I definitely don’t know it all, but I do know you.”
Gilly stood and pulled me into a hug. “And aren’t I thankful for that?”
I tried not to wince as my back twisted in a way it didn’t want to go. But Gilly must’ve felt the stiffening of my muscles. She released me instantly. “Is it bad today?”
I shook my head, forcing a smile. “Just stiff this morning.”
She rolled her eyes. “Like you would tell me if it was.”
I probably wouldn’t. Not unless it was so bad that I couldn’t get out of bed. But those days weren’t frequent. I knew how to mitigate the pain. Every day was a series of calculations. How much one activity would take from my reserves. If I would have enough left over to do whatever else needed to be done.
I bent, unlatching Gizmo’s leash. He raced towards the kitchen, and I followed in his wake. “What are you doing here so early?” I didn’t usually see Gilly until noon at the earliest. She always said her muse was nocturnal.
“I was dropping off a painting and wanted to see how the next show was coming together.”
Even though Gilly owned The Gallery, she mostly left me to run it. Somewhere along the way, the space had become my haven. The little apartment upstairs my home, and the exhibitions below my creative domain.
I gestured to several pieces lining the walls of the storage space next to the kitchen and the de facto break room. “Have a look. I think it’s a nice variety.”
I lifted the lid on a tin of treats and tossed one to Gizmo, who caught it in mid-air. Then I pulled a plate down from the cabinet. “Want half my muffin?”
Gilly waved me off, now fully engrossed in the art. “I ate around three.”
“You haven’t slept, have you?”
“Who needs sleep when the muse is speaking?”
I grinned as I plated my muffin and set it and my coffee on the table.
Gilly stopped in front of a photograph. It was black and white. A man whose age and grief was carved into his face, line after line. But it was his eyes that spoke volumes. They released all his pain for the world to see. “This is incredible.”
She whirled to face me. “Has your artist agreed to meet me yet?”
I pressed my lips into a firm line. “They prefer to remain anonymous. They say that it helps the work stay honest.”