.. ever have your number,” I finished, frowning.She stared at me. “You never got my note?” she asked, seemingly in disbelief.I was having troubl... not breaking into a smile. I raised my eyebrows at her, hoping that she wasn’t seeing my ruse. “Note? What note?”“I left you my phone number. On your fishing license. Didn’t you get it?”“Oh, I got my license. Which, by the way, how did you get it in the first place?”“I took it out of your box when I was borrowing your pliers,” she admitted.“Hmm.. She loved charcoal, but she had an incredible talent with pastels and acrylics. She painted awesome detail. As a result, she tended to paint small things very large. I mean, she’d look at a landscape, and instead of painting the whole thing, she would paint every detail of a single flower in the foreground with the rest looking blurred in the background. I’d never seen someone paint such idiosyncratic depth of field.She loved my new painting of Lissa, Beth, and Melody in the woods, but when I. More

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