“Who did you see?”
“Faith Academy. That’s in…”
“Mobile. I had to ask, too. Wenonah’s boys played Center Point, and they had the game won before the first quarter was over. It was their third straight state championship.”
“Impressive. Get any good pictures?”
“A few, I’d say.” I handed Wade a tablet from the table beside my chair. “They’re on here. Just scroll down.”
Wade was gracious enough to say a few complimentary words as he gave me back the tablet.
Wade shook his head.
“You’ll want to. She hasn’t been in Birmingham that long, but she’s already generated a lot of buzz. Photojournalist, artist, documentary filmmaker…she has an impressive list of accomplishments for someone so young.”
“When is the exhibit?”
“It runs through the end of March, but the opening is this Friday, from 7-9 p.m., in the upper gallery. I understand there will be free refreshments, so you should be all over that.”
“’Free’ is my favorite four-letter word. What will she be displaying?”
“She sent me an email about it,” I said, picking up the tablet again. “Let’s see…the show consists of 20 archival-quality prints of photos she made while working with medical non-profits and education and agriculture programs in Haiti. The prints are limited-edition and for sale for $60 unframed. Apparently credit cards, cash, and checks will be accepted at the opening, and 10 percent of exhibit proceeds will benefit a Haitian-owned organization in Les Cayes that produces free media supporting environmental advocacy.”
“That sounds great.”
“Yeah, I hope she’ll bring some of her work here to the club sometime.”
“Well,” Wade said, extricating himself from the tentacles, “if you’ll excuse me, there’s a cocktail at the bar with my name on it.”
I smiled as he left and I returned to my mystery novel, hoping he would try to talk Baxter into giving him one on the house. ‘Free’ is not one of our bartender’s favorite four-letter words.