Tori thought about stopping somewhere to grab lunch but had heard there was a café in the center. She wondered if it was the same café the woman operated from. She wanted to give herself ample time to check out the situation before she approached the woman. If she was, in fact, approachable. She drove another twenty minutes until she came upon a lushly landscaped area with a sign that said:

WELCOME TO THE STILLWELL ART CENTER

She turned on to what appeared to be a private road that led to the massive structure. It was the size of a mini-mall. She found a place to park and sat in her car for a few minutes to gather her thoughts and fortitude. She had never done anything like this before. Venturing on her own. In search of answers. She checked the visor mirror. She looked respectable; her short-cropped blond hair framed her face. Her makeup stayed intact. She ran a stick of gloss over her lips, unbuckled her seat belt, and got out of the car. She steadied herself. She was embarking on a different course. One that hadn’t been laid out for her. She was on her own today.

She entered through the massive glass doors and found herself amidst a lush garden with breathtaking skylights. The perimeter was marked with artists’ shops and beautiful colors. It was a tsunami of visual stimulation. She didn’t know where to begin. Then her eyes went immediately to the corner where pieces of sculpture sat alongside another glass door. They appeared to be made of metal. Her first inclination was to look. She slowly walked around one side of the atrium, glancing into the windows of ceramics, glass, birdhouses, and jewelry. It was a bit overwhelming. It could take all day to find the woman she was in search of. When she arrived at the front of the metal-sculpture kiosk, she got a shiver. She peered inside and saw that no one was on the premises. She saw the sign about the honor system but resisted touching any of the objects. After browsing through the shop, she turned and noticed a sign for the Blonde Shallot. She was getting hungry and decided to check it out. As she made her way toward the sandwich shop, her eyes darted around to see if she could find the mysterious woman’s café. There it was. Namaste Café. She stopped in her tracks for a moment to peek into the shop. There was a woman around Tori’s age with a very long braid, granny glasses, and bangle bracelets standing next to an easel. Tori thought perhaps it was the woman she was seeking. There was another woman seated at the adjacent table, and they were talking. By the expression on the braided woman’s face, it was a serious discussion. She resisted the urge to go inside. She would check again after she had some lunch.