by Ever Coming
“Nope, not until after you tell me about the kiss.”
“I did. There wasn’t one.”
“Why not? He’s not married. I asked.” Of course she did. As if that would be the only reason not to kiss someone. A good reason, but far from exclusive.
“Nosy much?”
A shower was running in the background, their time almost over. Darn adult responsibilities they both now had. Oh, for the days when summer vacation meant exploring the woods together and attending story time.
“No pivoting. Spill.”
“Fine. There was no kiss because as soon as he pulled up to my car, I panicked and ran out of there like a scaredy cat. He probably feels rejected, and that is that.”
The shower sound silenced. What had she ever done to deserve a daughter who would make her fears a priority over getting ready for work? Not that she should be grateful for her being irresponsible, but heck yeah she was.
“Why?”
“Because, Miss Nosy, he told me he wanted us to try us again, and five minutes later I fled like a bonehead. How would you feel if someone did that to you?” That was the sad truth of it. She basically slapped his declaration in the face all because she had the maturity of a seventeen-year-old.
“No, why did you run?”
That was the million-dollar question. Cate felt comfortable with him. She liked him. He had never been one to push anything, so she had no worries there. Yet flee she did, all because of what? Insecurities.
“Do you know how long it has been since I allowed myself to be in the position to be kissed?”
“Too long.”
Too long was an understatement. Not that she would change her past actions. She had done what was right for her daughter at the time.
“Well, anyway, I panicked. Done.”
“I’m pretty confident it’s not done.” Smug. Her daughter sounded smug. What the hey?
Cate couldn’t take it anymore and excused herself to quickly take care of business and, more importantly, have a moment to collect her thoughts.
“Sorry, I’m back.” Her daughter scoffed at her, and Cate knew it was because she put the phone down, whereas her daughter would have multitasked. Kids. “And why isn’t it done, oh wise one?” Cate shouldn’t ask, she knew that. But curiosity always seemed to best her.
“Because Amelia texted me for your address this morning.” Her daughter sing-songed her reply as if it were the best news ever.
“Why would she do that?” Amelia had no reason to stop by or to send anything her way. It was just plain weird, unless she was like the secretaries in the movies who took care of ordering the flowers and such. No, Cate couldn’t let herself get sucked into thinking like that. It could only lead to heartache when it could easily mean it meant nothing at all.
“Because the two of us have decided to make sure you guys end up together.” Great, her daughter was friends with Levi’s ex-wife. Nothing could possibly go wrong there.
“I don’t even wanna know why you two are in cahoots.” Except she really truly, honestly and for true did. She was a teenager all over again.
“Yes, you do, but I’m going to leave it there.” Of course she was. “But speaking of Amelia, she’s kind of why I called.” As if the phone call couldn’t get any stranger. “Want to go to her wife’s gallery with me tonight? They are having a showing. I think you would enjoy it.”
And somehow the conversation just got even weirder.
“You sound up to something.”
“I’m just trying to parlay dinner out of you.”
“Tell me another one.”
“She takes on a new artist every month, and I thought you might want to connect with her.”
Cate’s head was spinning. Her high school sweetheart was married to a woman who left him for a woman who now owned a gallery and is friends with her daughter who wanted her to get an exhibit there. Either the world was far smaller than she knew, or she was missing a key piece of information.
“How do you even know her?”
“Heather’s mom runs a cleaning service, and one of her clients is Susan, Amelia’s wife. Anyway, last semester, Heather and I were helping her out to make extra money for spring break. One of my jobs was cleaning her studio. One day I got stuck with vomit because people suck and no one told her they got sick behind … never mind. Anyway, she felt bad for me and gave me a tip. We got talking, and I told her how Heather and I were looking at the tech field. She mentioned Amelia, and that was how we ended up finding out about the internship.”
Cate would’ve put money on her daughter spitting out the entire story in one breath. As convoluted and odd as it sounded, it made sense. Heather’s mom was predominantly in the old part of town where many artsy type businesses flourished.
“She got you the internship. I need to meet this woman and give her a ginormous hug.”
“No, she told us about it, and we got them. But yes, you do want to meet her, but let’s lay off the hugs. She is married.” Jamie laughed at her own joke, and the shower started back up.
“Fine. I’ll go. What time and where should I pick you up?”
If it were late enough, she could manage to take some semi-decent photos of her work to bring with her, if the right moment arose. Her paintings were unique in their lack of concrete subject, and they could easily not be a good fit for the gallery. Although, after seeing Amelia’s wife’s own artwork, it might just be the perfect place.
“I’ll text you all of that.” Of course she would. No one just took down information anymore. “Are you working today?”
“Yes, but not at the temp agency.” Cate made her way to the sunroom just as the sun was beginning to rise. She loved to work that time of day. Everything just felt more possible by the new light. “I’m painting.”
“Good for you, Mom. It inspires me to see you jumping in with both feet like this.”
One day, she would tell Jamie how it was her poem that had inspired her, but only after she achieved a few milestones. Knowing her daughter, if Cate failed to make it, Jamie would blame herself, and nobody needed that. In Cate’s mind, she had already won. If not one painting sold, she had found her passion again, and that was everything.
“What are you doing with the paintings?”
“Apparently, I’m showing them to your friend with the hopes of getting a showing.”
“I love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, brat. See you tonight.”
As Cate pulled out a new canvas, there was no need for her to close her eyes and wait for inspiration to hit. Her day’s inspiration was the love and meddling of her sweet, smart, and slightly sassy daughter.
Chapter 5
Cate wobbled on her high-for-her-heels as she made her way down the walk to the gallery where her daughter was, in theory, waiting. After the night before, she half-worried it was another set-up. Worried. Hoped. Whichever.
Armed with a stick drive of pictures she’d taken of her work and her best little black dress, Cate was ready for this. Or so she told herself numerous times during the short walk from her car. Why she had ever decided any type of heel was a good idea was beyond her, but it was too late now. In for a penny…
The gallery sat in her favorite part of the city. The energy of the unique businesses, cafes, and galleries bounced through the streets, and the hustle and bustle of the city seemed to slow down there so people could enjoy the true pleasures of life. Art. Music. Theater. It was an odd dynamic, and one that, if she were a city gal, she would have been completely enthralled by.
The gallery welcomed her, its door propped open and gentle music flowing out into the street. A few steps in and she was awed by a photo of a brick. Somehow the photographer captured something in that shot that drew her in. A brick, of all things. Art never ceased to amaze her.
“Welcome,” a short woman with glasses and a welcoming smile greeted her, hand extended. “You must be Cate. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m not sure how to
even respond to that.” Cate gave her hand a quick shake, trying to pull herself together and out of the nerve-induced meltdown she had begun to slip into. “Is Jamie here?”
“She was, but I sent her on a quick errand.” The warm smile she greeted Cate with never wavered. “She’ll be back before the official start.”
“Oh, sorry.” Leave it to her to show up too early on what could be a life-changing night. “I’ll come back later. I must have the time wrong…”
“Susan. Amelia’s wife.”
Cate’s eyes popped up to meet Susan’s. For some reason, she hadn’t put two and two together. In her mind, Susan had been this tall, glamorous woman who stole both men and women’s breath away with her sheer beauty and unapproachableness. She had no idea where that version of the woman before her came from, but it was so wrong in the very best of ways. Susan was much more approachable in her true life version than anything Cate had dreamed up. Suddenly, her nerves vanquished. She had this.
“Your timing is perfect. Jamie said you were a brilliant artist and I simply must show your work.” That sounded like her daughter all right.
“She may be a bit biased.”
“Truth, but she has a great eye.” In that, Susan wasn’t wrong. Jamie had never taken up creating art in the same fashion her mother had, but she always saw the art around her, even where it was unintentional. “I keep trying to snag her from all that computer mumbo jumbo, but you know kids with all their practical dreams of actual careers.” Susan shrugged her shoulders before signaling for Cate to follow her. “Did you bring anything to show me?”
“Sort of.” They stopped in front of a display with amazing lighting, so Cate took that as a sign to whip out her thumb drive, not that it would do well there, but the woman must have assumed a portfolio was hiding in her purse to stop somewhere with lighting as well achieved as here. “I took some pictures and put them on a stick drive. Hardly professional by any means, but they will give you an idea of what my work is like. I’m not what you would call traditional.” She held the drive out automatically, and Susan gladly took it before starting to walk again, this time straight toward the reception desk.
“Most excellent. I personally find ‘traditional’ boring.” She turned her head and called to the receptionist who had, until then, gone unnoticed by Cate. “Marjorie, please man the fort. I’ll be in the office with Ms. Rhodes.”
“Cate is fine,” she said as they walked into the small office adjacent to the desk.
“Well, Cate, let’s have a look, shall we?” Susan put the thumb drive into her machine, and Cate all but held her breath waiting for the files to load. This was her big chance, and the only thing that could make or break it was the talent and vision she had put into her work. It felt so raw. Cate had never felt more alive.
“Wait.” Susan’s head turned to Cate before all of the pictures had even loaded completely. “Are you Cate Taylor?”
“Yes? I mean I was.” How did that come up? She hadn’t gone by that name in an entire lifetime—Jamie’s, to be more specific.
“The Cate Taylor?” Cate shrugged, not knowing how to respond to that. Surely there were plenty of Cate Taylors, right? Or had her past come up as part of Levi’s past? How embarrassing that would be. Not that they did anything wrong, but still, if it came up, her relationship with him impacted Susan’s current wife’s last marriage. Cate was spiraling into thoughts that needn’t be, and was pleased when Susan’s hand touched hers, grounding her. “But of course you are. I thought you stopped painting.”
“Wait, what?” Painting? That wasn’t at all what Cate thought this had been about. “How do you know about me?”
“I’ve seen and tried desperately to buy two of your pieces. When I was turned down very firmly, I looked for more and never found any, so I assumed… well, never mind.” She shooed the thought away with a swish of her hand, as if none of it had any necessity. Cate begged to disagree because at no point in time had she guessed her paintings were anywhere, except possibly someone’s basement game room. “When can you do a show? Name a month, and we will make it happen.”
“Wait. I don’t understand. Where were my paintings? Which ones?”
Susan began to type away on her machine before pulling up two pictures. Sure as the day is long, they were Cate’s, with an estimated value slapped across them, the numbers of which floored her. There was no way her pictures were worth that… except they were, since someone paid for them. “Here… these are them.”
“And where are they now?” Not that Susan would know, but maybe since she tried to buy it, she did. And at this point, she’d already asked, so who cared?
“That’s Levi’s collection.” Susan pointed to a new picture Cate had somehow not noticed she pulled up. Sitting next to her painting was a Rembrandt. A freaking Rembrandt.
“But that’s a Rembrandt next to it.” She pointed to the spot on the screen as if the owner of a prestigious art gallery didn’t know which painting she was talking about.
“It is.”
“My painting is next to a Rembrandt.” Her voice gave away the awe she felt. Her painting was next to a Rembrandt. Levi’s Rembrandt, so she had an edge up in the matter, but a Rembrandt still the same.
“They are.” Susan clicked a second picture and sure enough, the second painting was sitting on the other side of the Rembrandt. This could not be reality. It just couldn’t.
“I saw your work in his conference room,” Cate babbled, hoping to move the conversation past the one she really needed to be having with Levi. How had he got her paintings, and did he really pay those insane prices? If so, that was another whole why question unto itself.
“I heard. A little birdie told me you were a fan.”
Jamie.
“More than. It was breathtaking. The layers. I could have spent an hour there just exploring the details.” She knew she sounded as amateur as she felt, but the piece had hit her so profoundly she couldn’t stop herself.
“Amelia just told me Levi said you liked it.” Huh? So Jamie and Amelia were closer than she thought. She just shook her head at the entire sequence of events. Today turned out not at all as she had envisioned. “I’m humbled by your appraisal. It’s my favorite piece.”
Cate could have sworn she saw the woman blush. Interesting.
“I can see why.”
“No, not because of that.” And that was when her blush deepened. It was adorable. “It brought me my Amelia.”
“Love,” Cate all but sighed. “The very best reason there is.”
“You’re as sappy as Levi,” Susan faux-scolded before retrieving Cate’s thumb drive and shutting down her machine.
“Thanks?”
“Mom, are you back here?” Jamie called, startling them both.
“We’re here, Jamie,” they both responded at the same time, causing a burst of giggles like high school kids. What an odd meeting this was.
“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Jamie came busting in, carrying a few small bags.
“Absolutely not,” Susan brushed her concern away as Cate was now seeing was her habit. “Did you get me the new cords?”
“Three stores, but I got them.” She handed the small bags to Susan.
“Excellent. I need to go and get the tech working. It was fabulous meeting you, Cate.”
“You too.” Susan flitted out before Cate finished saying good-bye, but she assumed it was the thought that counted and let it go.
“Soooooo …” Jamie so nonchalantly nudged.
“So, it went really well. She likes my work.” At that, Cate twirled around as if she were a child in a brand-new tutu. She felt fantastic. Susan loved her work. Levi somehow owned a bit of her, even though they hadn’t seen each other in years. How, she would figure out later, but for now, she was going to live on the high that having your work hanging next to a Rembrandt brings. No, scratch that. The high having your painting hanging in the collection of your first love brings.
“I knew she would.�
� Jamie reached out and hugged Cate just as she finished spinning. Yes. The day was pretty much near perfect. “Ready to go mingle?”
“Absolutely.”
Chapter 6
The night was magical beyond belief. Cate had managed to spend time with her daughter, meet a few artists, and book a show all in one fell swoop. She felt like Cinderella at the ball, only without the prince. Not that she needed a prince to be happy, but she secretly held out hope that he would show up at the gallery and would whisk her off to a late dinner. Instead, she ended up home. Alone.
As she walked up to her front door after pulling in the driveway, packages caught her eye. It was unusual for the postal service to deliver past dinner, and she was happy for it. Cate had ordered some things to help her display her art, and it looked like she was going to need it much sooner than expected. Opening the door, she grabbed the packages and made her way inside.
Practically throwing her heels, she began to unpack the supplies directly into her homemade studio. The distraction was good, given all of the things buzzing through her mind. Piece by piece, she placed them carefully in their proper places and formulated a game plan for getting her work and display items to the gallery all in one piece. If she even needed things for display. It was a gallery, after all. Perhaps it was up to them to do all of that. It was official, she was beyond over her head.
As she pulled the tape off the last box, Cate noticed for the first time that it was completely different from the others. Come to think of it, between the wires and the panels she had already unloaded, she might already have all of her order put away. Carefully she placed the tape back down, hoping for a return address, but found none. Actually, her address was void from the box.
Before she could think too hard, Cate ripped the tape completely off and opened the box. Sitting in it was a painting. More precisely, one of her paintings. One she had created after a failed attempt to find her father. It emanated her anger, frustration, confusion, and the rejection her search had left her with. It had been therapeutic, but once the paint dried, Cate had done what every rebellious teen did—she hurled it into the trash can, to never see it again. Although, there it was staring her in the face. She pulled it out, and a note floated to the floor.
