We chatted for a while, mostly about art. His shop produced glassware that he shipped all over the world. Just then Elvira returned with breakfast. I don’t know if it was the atmosphere or Paul’s company or the food itself, but those were the best Eggs Benedict that I had ever eaten.
The sun was fully up by the time we had finished. Paul insisted on going out with me to the car to see my artwork. I opened the trunk of my car and unwrapped one of the vases. Its shiny black surface showed iridescent in the sunlight.
“Wow, this is really beautiful. I love the shape and the color. Where did you get this smoky glaze?”
“I made it myself. I’m afraid that everything I do is that color anymore. I’ve been kind of depressed since the divorce. My therapist says that is why I am so into gray and black.”
“I’m sorry you are depressed, but you do good work. You know, there is someone here in town that should see this. She’s an art dealer named Meghan Presley.”
“The Meghan Presley? The one who owns Meghan Presley 2, that upscale gallery in the city? That Meghan Presley?”
“Don’t let her know you’re so impressed, she’s got a big enough ego now.” He grinned. “Can I take these and show them to her?”
“Sure.”
“Good. She‘s my…”
Just then a double sheet of newspaper, born on an icy blast of air struck Paul full in the face. “Ack!” he hollered as the vase slipped from his grasp. He made a mad dive for it and caught it just before it struck the pavement.
“Wow, that was scary. You’d better carry this. I’ll take the others.”
He handed me the vase and picked up the box containing the rest. I shut the trunk, locked the car again and followed him back into the village. In a couple of moments the glass walls of the gallery stood before us. Paul walked over to a small wooden door near the main entrance and rang the bell. Sounds of movement from the inside indicated that someone was home.
The door opened and a tall, stunning red head peeked out. “Paul, darling what are you doing here so early?”
“Early, Meghan it’s almost 8:00. Let us in it’s, cold out here. Besides I have someone for you to meet, this is Emy, and we have something great to show you.”
“Fine, come on in.” She opened the door wider. “Do you want coffee?” She crossed to the kitchen and poured herself a steaming mug.
“Meg, you’ve got to see this.” He motioned for me to show her the vase in my hand.
She put the mug down, took the vase from me and examined it thoroughly. She peered inside, checked the bottom and felt it all over.