“You need more red, dear,” an older woman explained to me, gesturing toward my paintbrush as if she was going to take it. She was the owner and had greeted us with smiles almost immediately after we’d sat down. She had spoken to Ford on the phone about booking us in earlier, so that was all taken care of.

It was damn nice to have things taken care of by someone other than me.

“I know, I’m not sure how to make it look like that,” I explained, gesturing toward the painting Ford and ...