Contessa (12 page)

“
Thanks, Dad, but you forgot one.
”
I turn around to show my disapproval, but am stunned by what I see. He
’
s holding a 3
’
x 3
’
canvas replica of
Thursday Morning
,
Nate
’
s amazing work of art.
“
Oh, thank you, Daddy!
”
I exclaim, taking the painting from his grasp. It
’
s heavier than I expected, and so well done. I compare the colors to the original, and they
’
re spot on.

“
Can you go a little easier on me, Livvy? I really am trying.
”

I look up into his eyes and see a tinge of sadness there I
’
d never seen before.

“
Okay,
”
I tell him, a little remorseful.

“
You ready for dinner?
”

“
Yeah.
”
He hands me the keys and picks up the canvas, carefully carrying it out to the car.

Mom greets us at the door when we get home. The house is still and quiet, which normally means my brother is in bed and my mom is working. She looks beyond us at the car, as if inspecting it for damage.

“
Your daughter takes after me, Em,
”
he tells her.
“
Perfect driving. She only forgot to signal once.
”

“
Well, then that would make her a
better
driver than you.
”
She teases my dad before she welcomes him into her arms. I peek in Trey
’
s room to find him asleep, still wearing a party hat.

“
Was he too tired to take it off?
”
I ask when they separate.

“
He made it,
”
my mom tells me.
“
He couldn
’
t wait to show Daddy.
”

“
Oh, let
’
s go see my boy,
”
Dad says.
“
Livvy, why don
’
t you show your mom what we got today?
”

“
Okay,
”
I smile, knowing my mom will love the painting–well, hoping she will, anyway. I
’
d never asked why there were no paintings of Nate
’
s in our house. Again, he wasn
’
t someone we talked about often.
“
Come help me?
”
I ask her as I lead her out into the driveway.

“
How were my parents?
”
she asks me.

“
They
’
re fine,
”
I tell her.
“
Grandma was great. Don seemed tired,
”
I report.
“
After dinner, he just went to his recliner and fell asleep. It wasn
’
t even seven-thirty. She said he
’
s been doing that for a few weeks now.
”

“
Really?
”
Her voice is concerned.
“
She mentioned something about that, but I didn
’
t really take it too seriousl– Livvy? What is that?
”
she asks as she looks in the backseat of the car.

“
What do you think?
”

“
I think it
’
s a painting of Nate
’
s.
”

“
It
’
s a replica. There was a painting of his at the gallery.
”

“
Really?
”

“
Yeah, in the New York exhibit.
”

“
Well, that
’
s pretty unbelievable.
”

“
Have you seen it before?
”

“
I have,
”
she confirms.
“
Her name was Laney,
”
she says.

“
What do you mean?
”

“
Nothing.
”
She squints at the painting, but seems to look beyond it.
“
Your dad bought this?
”

“
Yeah. It was the most incredible piece there.
”

She looks shocked.
“
And he knew it was Nate
’
s?
”

“
Yeah. Why?
”

“
No reason, Liv,
”
she says with a shrug.
“
Where will we be hanging this?
”
she asks.

“
In my bedroom,
”
I tell her as if her question had an obvious answer.

A smile grows on her face.
“
Mind if I visit it every once in awhile?
”

“
As long as you knock.
”

“
Deal,
”
she says, taking the painting from the backseat and carrying it in. Dad and Trey greet us in the foyer, my brother
’
s eyes still weary with sleep.

“
Well?
”
he asks Mom.

“
It
’
s beautiful,
”
she answers.

My dad looks at me and corrects her.
“
Actually, it
’
s not. What did you say it was? Angry? Primal?
”

“
I meant it
’
s a beautiful gesture, baby,
”
she says before kissing him.

“
Ewwww,
”
Trey says as he walks into the living room and picks up the remote control. My parents separate with a laugh.

“
No TV, Jackson,
”
my dad says, going to tend to my brother.

“
Do you think it
’
s to late to call my mom?
”
Mom asks him.

He checks his watch and shakes his head. Mom goes into the office to make the phone call as Dad slings Trey over his shoulder to return him back to bed. I decide to go to my room in the basement to try to find the perfect wall for this perfect piece of art.

CHAPTER 5

My mind isn
’
t on the lesson the following Thursday, but I power through, spending most of my time watching the kids paint. As the last of the kids is shuttled away by his parents, I start to gather my things, wondering if Jon will show up again this week.

“
Granna, can I have the key to the gallery? Mom needs me to grab a book for her.
”

She hands me the key ring and I exit the building, making my way up the staircase outside. I
’
m startled by footsteps behind me.

“
It
’
s just me, Livvy.
”
I turn around to see Jon halfway up the stairs.

“
Hi.
”

“
I
’
ve never been up here.
”

“
Sure you have,
”
I argue.
“
We had a show here once, remember?
”

“
I wasn
’
t there,
”
he says.
“
That was the week my, uh...
”
He clears his throat.
“
My father passed away.
”

“
Oh,
”
I whisper apologetically.
“
I forgot about that. I mean, I remember that he did, but–
”

“
It
’
s okay,
”
he says as he climbs the rest of the steps to the top platform, meeting me as I open the door. I hit the lights quickly and go inside, with Jon fast on my heels. The door shuts behind us.

“
My dad would kill me if he knew you were here.
”

“
Why?
”
He sounds amused.
“
My intentions are good. I
’
m here to make sure you
’
re okay.
”

“
I don
’
t think he
’
d care why you were in here, with me, alone.
”

“
Well, I
’
m not going to try anything. Not even if you ask me to,
”
he taunts me.

I just turn around and blush at his suggestion, going toward my mother
’
s office. I grab the book off of her desk and turn off the lamp she
’
d left on. Jon
’
s looking at the permanent display of some of Nate
’
s paintings when I come out.
“
Aren
’
t they incredible?
”

“
Yeah,
”
he says.
“
It
’
s a shame he died so young.
”

“
I know,
”
I agree, feeling a tinge of sadness.
“
Look at this one,
”
I tell him, pulling him by his sleeve to the far wall where a very large mural hangs.
“
This one was apparently painted for my mom. They shipped it here from Los Angeles a few years ago. Cool, huh?
”

“
It
’
s stunning.
”

“
He thought my mom was stunning,
”
I tell him.
“
He loved her.
”

“
Really?
”

“
Yeah. They were in love.
”

“
I didn
’
t realize that. I guess that makes sense, though, why you call Donna
‘
Granna.
’
I
’
ve always wondered that. What happened with them?
”

“
He died,
”
I say simply.
“
And that was it.
”

He
’
s silent for a few minutes, walking the span of the wall and looking at the details of the mural up close.
“
That
’
s sad,
”
he says.

“
I know.
”
I debate telling him any more, and just settle on voicing my own curiosity.
“
I often wonder what he would be like as a dad, like if Mom had ended up with him.
”

“
Well,
”
he says gently.
“
Do you think you would have even met him? Or even your mom?
”

“
Definitely,
”
I tell him.
“
Granna
’
s the one who introduced me to Mom and Dad. You know how you just feel like you
’
re destined to be a part of someone
’
s life?
”

He smiles softly and nods.
“
Maybe a little.
”

“
Well, I feel like I was destined to find my mom. I feel certain I would have found her, even if she hadn
’
t been with Dad–you know, if Nate had lived, and had they been able to stay together. I think they would have raised me.
”