So much of their relationship had involved Ashlyn, except for the steamy nights, of course. It would be fun to spend time with him alone, to get to know him even better.
She shivered a little at the thought of spending the night with him again.
Last night had felt long and lonely and while she'd chosen to sleep alone, hoping she'd actually catch up on some sleep, that hadn't really happened. She'd spent most of the night thinking about Jeremy, about being the woman in his life past the summer. And she thought about Ashlyn, too. The little girl had already stolen her heart. She needed a mother. And someday Jeremy would probably give her one. Mia felt a little jealous at the thought of that unknown woman who would take her place with Jeremy and Ashlyn, the one she'd been really enjoying the past week.
She tried to remind herself that she'd only known him a short time, that it was a summer romance, that she was getting way ahead of herself, but she'd always been one to look to the future, and a future without Jeremy seemed rather dismal.
Her computer pinged, and she focused her attention on the screen as she realized she'd finally gotten an email back from her friend in France, Danielle Malone.
According to Danielle, the painting was thought to be one of Toulouse-Lautrec's unfinished paintings.
She smiled a little proudly, happy that she'd already guessed that.
Danielle believed that the painting had been part of a collection of paintings discovered in an attic after his death in 1901. It was said that he had put paintings there that he deemed unworthy of his talent. But everyone in the art world thought they were stunning.
The paintings had then been purchased as part of a collection for a museum in Paris. Unfortunately, that museum was looted during World War II, and the painting had not been seen since. Some of the artwork from that museum had shown up in various parts of the world, but the location of that particular painting was still unknown.
Mia blew out a breath as goose bumps ran down her arms at the knowledge that the painting in front of her was not only very old but had also been stolen—maybe more than once.
Danielle suggested she get in touch with the museum to see if they had any further information.
She noted the name of the curator, his email, and phone number. Danielle said she'd attempted to contact the museum, but it was closed until Monday. She would be off on a business trip, so Mia would have to do it herself.
Mia wrote back a quick thank-you and told her she'd take it from there and would keep her posted on what she found out. She was thrilled that Danielle had confirmed her suspicion that the painting had been done by Toulouse-Lautrec, and she couldn't wait to hear what the curator at the museum in Paris would be able to tell her.
There was still a possibility that the painting in her possession was a forgery, but based on the circumstances surrounding her find, she didn't think so. Who would take such care to hide a fake?
However, she would need to send it to an expert to determine if it was an original work. She didn't have the tools to test the paint or age of the paper or study the brushstrokes in enough detail to be certain of its authenticity, but she had plenty of contacts in San Francisco. She just wasn't ready to leave Angel's Bay to do that, and she didn't want to let the painting out of her sight. Nor did she want to alert the world that her aunt was in possession of a stolen painting until she'd had a chance to figure out how it had gotten into Carly's closet.
The doorbell rang interrupting her thoughts. She closed her computer, rolled up the painting and stuck it in the kitchen pantry, then walked down the hall to open the door.
Didi Eckhart was on the front porch, dressed in a blue sleeveless sheath dress and heeled sandals, a large purse hanging over her shoulder.
"Mrs. Eckhart. Thank you so much for coming."
"I'm excited to see what you have. And please call me Didi." She glanced around as she stepped into the entry. "I haven't been inside this house in a long time. Carly has acquired more art since the last time I was here."
"Art and junk," Mia said with a helpless shrug. "She loved what she loved; it didn't always have to have value."
"A sentiment I share." She paused in front of a portrait of a young girl sitting at a piano, her hands resting lightly on the keys, her gaze turned toward the window and not the instrument she was about to play. "Carly purchased this one from the gallery. It's by a local artist named Roger Henry. He's quite good."
"I do like it," Mia said. "Why don't we go out to the patio? I have the paintings set up out there. Can I get you some lemonade?"
"That would be lovely. It's such a warm day."
Mia had made some lemonade earlier, so she grabbed the pitcher and two glasses from the kitchen and ushered Didi into the backyard. She poured the lemonade while Didi looked at the paintings.
"It's certainly an eclectic mix of oil, acrylic and watercolors," Didi said, walking back to the table.
"It's definitely a mix," Mia agreed, as she handed her a glass of lemonade. "Please sit down. Sorry for the mess, but I'm still sorting everything out, and it was easier to do it out here than in the studio. I needed the space to see what I had."
"I completely understand." Didi gave her a warm smile. "It's so nice to sit with you, Mia. Your aunt spoke of you often, how proud she was that you were moving forward in an art career. She told me that she'd given you your first set of paints."
"That's very true. She taught me to paint and she inspired me in many ways. I spent several summers here when I was a teenager. They're some of my fondest memories. I wish now I'd made more of an effort to get back before this tragedy."
"Well, Carly might not have been here. She did a lot of traveling the last few years." Didi sipped her lemonade and then said, "Your aunt inspired me as well. After my husband died, I was just going to let the gallery run the way it had always run, but Carly talked to me about making it into a business that I really cared about. At first, I thought it might be disloyal to my husband to make huge changes. I'd always left the big decisions in our lives to him. But the more I thought about it, and the more time I spent at the gallery with Harrison Raleigh, the more I realized that I wanted a gallery with my last name on it to be reflective of my personal choices."
"That makes sense."
"You probably wonder why it took me so long to get to that conclusion, but I'm in my sixties, and I grew up in a world where women deferred to men. I'm still fighting some of the old traditions in my head. But you're a young woman. You would never let a man decide your life for you, would you?"
"I would try not to," she said. "But it's easy to get caught up in love."
"Are you in love with someone, Mia?"
"Possibly," she said slowly.
Didi laughed. "I don't know everything, but I do know one thing about love. When the answer is possibly, it just means you're fighting your instincts or maybe keeping some walls up."
"You're right about that. I've made some mistakes in the past when it came to men, or at least one man."
"Don't let that one man influence the way you think about other men."
"It's hard not to do that."
"Well, no one said love was easy. You know what I sometimes ask myself when I'm trying to make a decision now that my husband is gone?"
"What's that?"
"What would Carly do?"
Mia smiled. "Good question."
"What would her answer be for you, Mia?"
"Probably to go for it. That love isn't practical. That it makes you crazy and that's the fun of it. But it's not that simple. I've met a man here in town, and I won't be staying in Angel's Bay past the summer. I have to go back to San Francisco and find myself a job."
"I thought you were already working in a museum."
"I was. That man I was referring to—the one I made a mistake with—kind of messed that up. But I'm not sorry the job ended; it wasn't really for me. It was more paperwork than art, and since I've come back here, I've been reminded that art is so much more than the famous pa
intings displayed on the walls of a museum. I want to be able to have more freedom to work with artists and open art up to more people. I love that Aunt Carly used her studio for art therapy, that she let people stay here for free while they painted their problems away. I hate to see that end."
"Does it have to end?"
"It's not my house. My parents own it now, and I'm sure they'll sell it."
"Maybe to you."
"Out of my price range. And there's still the problem of a job."
"You know, I might have an idea for you," Didi said, a gleam in her eyes.
"What's that?"
"You could come and work for me. You could take Harrison's place as soon as I fire him."
She was shocked by Didi's suggestion. "That's a very generous offer, but I don't think I could do that. And Mr. Raleigh has worked at the gallery a long time. Can you really fire him?"
"I don't want to fire him out of loyalty to my husband, but he fights me at every turn. If I want to take control of the gallery, he has to go. Just think about it, Mia. Put it on your list of possibilities."
She smiled at Didi's choice of words. "I will do that. But you don't know that much about me."
"I know enough. I'm sure you're very qualified, and I love your idea for the exhibition. Why don't you bring the paintings to the gallery next week? We'll set up a date and make our plans."
"Do you want all of them?"
"I'd love for you to pick eight that you think are worthy of a spot in the gallery. We'll figure out the rest of the details later."
"I do have one other concern," she said. "My aunt asked every artist to leave her a piece of their art as payment for their stay in the studio. I assume that all these paintings belong to my aunt's estate. But a couple of artists have already expressed concern about their art being publicly displayed. I don’t quite know what to do about it. I've resolved the issue with those artists who have contacted me, but I have no idea who painted these works of art."
"Well, this is a small town and news spreads fast. I'll let the artists I work with know about the exhibition. We'll make up a flyer, and we'll see who comes out of the woodwork. As far as I'm concerned, the paintings belong to your aunt's estate. I'm not a lawyer, but I could certainly consult an attorney to make sure we're on the right track."
"That would be great. I don't want to make any problems for you or for myself."
"Consider it done." Didi got to her feet. "Thank you for the lemonade. It reminded me of Carly. We shared many a glass of lemonade on this very patio. We talked about men and work and life and the world. I miss those days."
Mia wished she'd had more days like that with her aunt to miss.
She walked Didi out to her car, debating if she should mention the mystery painting and eventually deciding against it. Didi seemed like a good friend of Carly's, but how well did Mia really know her? It would be better to get the painting out of Angel's Bay and give it to an objective party who knew nothing about her aunt or anyone else in town.
After she said goodbye, she went back into the house and unrolled the painting once more. "Tell me your secrets," she said, as she spread it out on the table once more. Unfortunately, the painting wasn't going to give her an answer. She would have to find it somewhere else.
Nineteen
Jeremy pulled up to Kara's house a little after five. He'd spent the day with Ashlyn getting her ready for the sleepover. She'd told him she needed new pajamas, a new sleeping bag, and a new backpack to carry her toothbrush and teddy bear in.
While Ashlyn seemed pretty happy about the upcoming event, he was worried that she was getting ahead of herself. What if the nightmares returned when she was at Kara's house? What if she scared the other kids with her screams, or woke up crying and couldn't be comforted? It seemed too soon to let her go.
On the other hand, she really wanted to go, and she'd told him that she'd gone to a sleepover for her friend's seventh birthday party last year, which meant she wasn't a complete novice at being away from a parent.
As that thought crossed his mind, he realized that he was forgetting the month she'd spent in foster care completely alone. But that had been different. That had been scary and sad.
He turned off the engine and turned to Ashlyn. "If you change your mind and you want to come home at any point, you know you can call me. I'll come right over and pick you up."
"I know," she said.
"It doesn't matter what time it is. If it's the middle of the night, I'll still come, and I won't be mad."
"Okay, Daddy."
His heart caught at her response. He still wasn't used to hearing that word come out of her mouth.
"It's going to be okay," she told him. "I'm going to have fun."
He smiled, wondering when the tables had turned. Now she was worrying about him. "I know you'll have a good time."
"We're going to make cookies and watch movies and tell stories. And Faith's mom said she's going to put up a tent in the living room that we can sleep in. It will be like we're camping."
"That sounds very cool."
"Mommy said she used to camp when she was a little girl," Ashlyn told him, her smile fading a little. "She was going to take me, but she never did."
"I know she'd be happy that you're going indoor camping tonight, and one of these days you and I will go outdoor camping. I know some great places to go."
"Will we see bears?"
"Well, I kind of hope not," he said with a laugh. "But we can hike up to an amazing waterfall. You'll love it."
"Can Mia come with us when we go camping?"
His gut tightened. He'd like nothing more than for Mia to come with them, but he needed to be careful about making promises to Ashlyn that he couldn't keep. He wanted his daughter to trust him completely. But he didn't want to get into a heavy discussion now when she was itching to get out of the car, so he said, "We'll see if she's free. Let's go inside."
He walked Ashlyn into the party and watched her join the other kids with barely a backward glance in his direction.
"You going to be okay, Dad?" Kara asked him with a teasing smile, a knowing gleam in her eyes.
"It's just so strange. A couple of days ago, she could barely smile or speak to anyone. Now, it's like she's a new person. Once she was able to talk about what happened to her mom and cry it out on my shoulder, she got better."
"That's a good thing, Jeremy."
"I just want it to last, and I'm afraid that this night might be a bit much for her."
"I will make sure that she's fine, and if she's not, you will get a call. But honestly, Jeremy, I think it's going to be great. She's really good with the little kids. My two already love her to death, and Jeanette and Melody have decided she's their new best friend." She put a reassuring hand on his arm. "Go out and have some fun. I don't expect you've had much time to yourself the last month."
"No, I haven't."
"Are you and Mia going out somewhere tonight?"
Everyone had obviously decided he and Mia were a couple, which actually didn't sound bad to him. It had been a long day without her by his side; he was looking forward to their first real date. "I thought I'd take her to the Stonecreek Inn."
"That's romantic and expensive. Lucky girl."
"I'm the lucky one. She's an amazing woman. I've never met anyone like her."
"She is great," Kara agreed. "I like her a lot. She's friendly and unpretentious and fun. I wish she'd stay in Angel's Bay. I wish you'd stay, too."
"I don't know what I'm going to do."
"I know you have issues with your dad."
"I've resolved some of those, I think. Although, I thought he might come to the park last night for the movie, and he didn't. I don't know if he fell off the wagon again or just wasn't ready to meet Ashlyn and try to be a grandfather. But it doesn’t matter. He's not going to be part of my decision."
"I'm glad. You can't let the negative people in your life control you."
"I agree. So is Colin helping you wi
th this sleepover?"
"Absolutely. Are you kidding? I would not do this without him. He ran out to the store to get more eggs for our cookie baking bonanza."
"Great. I'll see you tomorrow morning then, if not before."
"Have fun, Jeremy. You deserve it."
He walked over to Ashlyn to tell her he was leaving. She gave him a nod and a quick hug and then went back to the game she was playing. She would be fine, he told himself again as he headed to his car. He needed to get on with his own fun.
As he drove away from Kara's house, he felt free, not just because he'd dropped Ashlyn off somewhere, but because his daughter was enjoying her life like a normal eight-year-old. He'd come to Angel's Bay to give her an environment where she'd feel safe, where she could heal, and amazingly that had happened.
How was he ever going to leave?
But that was a question for another time. Right now he had a date with a beautiful blonde.
* * *
"Is it crazy that I feel nervous?" Mia asked Jeremy as she got into his car just before seven. She'd put on a spaghetti-strapped sundress and wedge heels and actually taken time to curl her hair and put on makeup. She was feeling both pretty and not really herself. "It's not like we haven't had a meal together."
"Or had incredible sex," he reminded her.
"Or that," she said, flushing under his gaze. "But tonight feels different. It feels planned. Like we're making a choice."
"The only choice you have to make tonight is what to order off the menu. Stonecreek is known for its steaks, but we are by the ocean, so I'm sure the fish is good, too."
"It all sounds delicious. I only had a salad for lunch."
"What did you do all day—besides miss me?" he teased.
She laughed. "I didn't have time to miss you. I had a parade of people come through the yard. Christina Wykoff didn't find her painting and wanted to know what happened to it. Unfortunately, I couldn't give her an answer. She was not happy. Rita Phelps did locate her painting and took it out of the exhibition, which was fine with me, because it wasn't very good. Kent also came by, but he didn't locate his painting, either. He was more resigned to the fact that it was gone than Christina. She wanted to search the house."
If I Didn't Know Better Page 22
