The Little House of Paints

Chapter 5

Since it is Monday, I expected the shop to be much busier than it has been. There have been people coming in and out throughout the morning, but nothing like there used to be when I was younger. Usually sales pick up more around this time of year since everyone is beginning to gather their winter time activities to take into hibernation with them, however, we have had a few uncharacteristically warm days this month. People are likely still trying to hold onto whatever warmth that the weather will offer them.

I am getting ready to cash out for the day and close the store, when Mrs. Quindle brings in her daughter, Amy. Amy has got to be about four by now if I am remembering correctly. The Quindles are an older couple that ended up adopting Amy after she was left on their door. They suspect that she was left by a teenage mother, but have never been able to confirm it.

Ever since the couple adopted the young girl, Mrs. Quindle periodically has brought the little ball of sunshine into the store whenever she comes to buy more paint by numbers for Mr. Quindle, who has found a love for them in retirement. Today, however, they don't go to that section of the store. Instead they head over to the painting sets.

Being that they are the only customers here currently, I have the opportunity to leave my post. Stepping around the counter, I head over to them. As I approach, Amy looks up from the paint brush she is playing with and flings herself at me.

"Kenny!" Amy exclaims as she wraps her freckled arms around my leg and gives me a wide toothy grin.

"It's good to see you too, Amy." I say in between laughs.

"Kendahl, it is so nice to see you again. How is art school going?" Mrs. Quindle says as she puts back one of the sets she was holding, seeming to have settled on the one still in her hands.

"Good, busy but good. What about you? How's everything going?" I say patting Amy's head as she keeps her death grip on my leg.

"We're fine. Mr. Quindle is driving me crazy as per usual, but besides that everything has been great." She replies as she smiles down at her daughter.

"Good to hear, so what can I fix you up with today?" I ask while eyeing the set that she is holding.

"Amy decided that she wanted to paint just like her father and when he wasn't looking painted all over his most recent painting of a tiger. To prevent him from having a heart attack I told him I would go get Amy her own supplies so they could paint together. Since he is currently holed up trying to fix his masterpiece, I figured it was time to get this little one her own supplies. I do hope this is a good one. I really know nothing about art." She confesses while adjusting her tortoiseshell glasses on her nose.

"Well, that is exactly what I am here for isn't it? Let me see." I say while sticking out my hand. She hands it over to me to examine it. "Yes, this set has good paint for relatively cheap, which I recommend since as we know Amy gets distracted easily..." I pause as we both look down the aisle at Amy, who has now taken to looking at some of my paintings on display. "But the brushes aren't the best. It's kind of a give and take sometimes. Good paint, but bad brushes and vice versa you know? However, I have just the thing to fix that. Come with me."

Handing the set back to her, I head for the front of the store. Soon Mrs. Quindle and her daughter come out of the aisle they had been in and meet me at the custom paint brush sets.

Bending down to Amy's level, I ask, "Okay, which one do you want, sweetie?"

Amy immediately looks at the brushes with a contemplative face. She starts to study them, taking a minute or two to really contemplate her decision. Suddenly, she points at one of the sets. It is one of the older ones with platinum colored bristles and a birch handle. They were made maybe a year or two ago and though we have sold a few, they didn't do as good as others. Probably the result of the bristle color showing more discoloration than other sets, but that is all speculation.