“Can I watch them?” I asked.

“Of course. I think there’s an old TV/VCR out in the studio.” She handed me an empty cardboard box. “You can put the files in here.”

“Thanks.” I started to pack up the files and videotapes. “So, what’s under the sheet?” I asked, trying to sound casual as I glanced over at the covered structure.

“It’s in progress.”

“You said you’ve never done anything like it before?”

“That’s right.”

“So, it’s not a painting or photography? Or that performance art thing where you rolled around on a canvas?”

Joan laughed. “No. It’s none of those things, exactly. I’ll tell you when it’s ready.”

—

I lugged the box of files and videotapes out back to Joan’s old studio. The side that faced the house looked like a gardening shed, with stained-wood siding and a white door with an inset window. The window was dark, and as I reached out to turn the handle I felt an uncanny moment of premonition, as if I were about to open a box of wonders. And then I felt a little silly—I’d been inside before—and I opened the door.

The smell of old paint struck my nose immediately, the scent of artwork long finished, and I wondered how long it had been since Joan used the studio. It was dark inside because the exterior storm shutters had been closed over the windows, so I turned on the overhead track lights. Footprints crossed the dusty floor to a high worktable in the middle of the room. A stool had been pushed beneath, and I remembered Dad had worked in here a few days ago. A counter with cabinets beneath was built along the wall where the door was located, and to my left was a deep stainless-steel sink, splattered with paint.

The opposite wall was floor-to-ceiling windows, currently covered by the storm shutters. I set the box down on the worktable and went back outside to open them. When I returned, the studio looked much more spacious. The ceiling angled up from the wall where the door was, and the windows opened directly onto the view of oak trees and hills and big blue sky. Along one of the short walls was a cabinet for supplies, and on the floor between the cabinet and the counter was a boxy old TV. It was pretty small, a little more than one square foot all around, and it had a slot in the front that must be where a videotape could be inserted.