Montana Mouthful: Blessing In Disguise

Page 52

FICTION

The Art Farm by Maggie Nerz Iribarne

The End The installations, every one of them, burned all night. There was no sign of Sam. Sharye pictured him driving his beat up Honda, down route 92, windows cracked to dilute the smell of gasoline, the cold air flowing through his long, messy hair, a small crack of a smile lingering around his lips. Before Sam appeared out of nowhere, tapping on Sharye’s window, causing her to jump as she stood at her sink. “Morning, Mam,” he called through the glass. Sharye opened the door to face the stranger. He was about her age, maybe a little older, she couldn’t tell. Herb growled, unusual for the dog. “I’m Sam. Looking for work,” he said. She laughed. There was lots of work, just no pay. “We’re on a really tight budget.” He scratched his beard, crouched, held his hand out for Herb. The dog approached, changing his attitude and licking the welcoming fingers. “Do you need anything fixed?” Sam smiled, crinkles forming around his bright blue eyes. 50 | Montana Mouthful

Sharye wanted to get back to her coffee and watercolor of the robin’s nest she’d been painting. “Ok, I get it. I was just in the area. I always liked this place.” Sharye forced a smile. “I’ll be on my way,” he said, still standing outside the door. The draft from the cooling weather blew in around her legs, something shifted. “Would you like a cup of coffee?” She pulled at her sweater. “I’d appreciate it,” Sam said, stepping forward, looking around as if to assess the space, sitting down at the table. Sharye found a mug in the cupboard and pulled out a plate for the Pepperidge Farm cookies she always had on hand. Sam took one mint Milano, sipped his black coffee. “So where do you live?” Sharye asked. “Oh, in town.” His eyes scanned past her shoulder, something her ex always did when she was in the middle of a story. He stood up, moved to her easel, squinted at the half-finished nest. He put his hands in the front pockets of his jeans and smiled. “This is good. Yours?” “Yes. It is.” “I’m an artist, too.” Vol. 4 • Issue 2


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