Chapter 1
The local art supply store had exploded in her sunroom, from an easel to canvasses of every size, and paints galore. Cate had even splurged on more brushes than she could possibly ever use. Even the cashier giving her a total that rivaled a mortgage payment hadn’t squashed her high.
Art had always been her one true passion. Being ever pragmatic, she had chosen teaching as her career in college. Not even an art teacher, because art was the first thing that got cut during budget crunches. She chose to earn a degree in teaching elementary school, because the jobs were more plentiful and safer. Even then, she used every last elective she had for art courses and had once even tried to get a summer residency at a local art studio.
Everything changed with James’ death, and she was forced to be completely true to her pragmatic self by taking the maximum allowed courses at her university the summer she was pregnant, and adding another two from the local community college as transfer credits. It had been rough, but Cate had managed to graduate on time, even while taking a semester off for the birth of her beautiful daughter.
It had all been worth it, knowing that she had been able to grant her daughter the start Cate’s own mother had not been able to give her. Jamie never went without. Sure, there had been lean times, but Cate never had to worry about where the next meal would come from or which utility to pay that month, the way her mother had.
Now, here she was, nineteen years later, picking her dream back up and dusting it off. A quick look online, and Cate was signed up for a painting class at the local community college. Putting her first canvas on the easel, she closed her eyes and waited for inspiration to hit.
Cate had been shocked to learn that most other students in her classes in undergrad didn’t work this way, since it had always been her method. Close eyes. Take three deep breaths. Allow her mind to go blank and then when something popped back in, she painted it.
Moody. That was probably the best way to describe the pictures she had first painted as a teen. They were rough as far as technique, but people swore they could feel her emotions just by looking at them. At first, that had made her very self-conscious. After she sold a few at a local art fair, she let go of her insecurities and just let the ideas come to her.
Three deep breaths and a less than a minute later, Cate pulled out the correct paints and brushes for her inspiration. Hours passed by as she painted and painted, the colors flowing as beautifully on the canvas as they had in her head. She may not have picked up a brush for anything other than walls in years, but her fingers acted as if it had been but a day. As the sun began to set, her lighting became less than optimal, and she decided to quit for the night, adding new lighting to her mental shopping list.
Cate was almost finished cleaning up when the phone startled her, and she responded with a smile when the caller ID came into view. Jamie, her dear, sweet Jamie. It had taken every last ounce of her will power not to call Jamie every night this week, but she had done it and was proud.
“Hello.” Cate tried to keep her voice steady so to not give away how much she needed the phone call. There was no point in putting pressure on Jamie like that. Not when she was finally spreading her wings.
“Hey, Mom.” It was so good to hear her daughter’s voice. “I was calling to see if you were still coming for lunch tomorrow.”
As her appeasement for not following her daughter to her apartment on move-in day and allowing her to “be an adult,” Jamie had invited her to lunch over the weekend. That tiny offer meant so much to Cate. Not only did it show that her daughter was going to try to stay close even as she spread her wings, but also that she’d raised her to be both compassionate and intuitive, two skills that would benefit her throughout life.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. How was your orientation today?” Cate grabbed her dirty brushes and plopped them into a jar of cleaning solution.
“Paperwork. Lots and lots of paperwork.” Her daughter sighed as she spoke, but her smile could be heard through the phone. It had been a good day.
“Adulting tends to be like that.” Cate double-checked all of her paints were sealed before picking up the jar and placing it in the utility sink in her adjacent laundry room.
“You do know I’m sticking my tongue out at you, right?”
Cate barked out a laugh. Yes, she did know exactly how her daughter would respond, and the vision of her daughter making such a goofy face helped to ease some of her worry. She knew she needed to let Jamie go, but it didn’t make it easy. Talk about adulting.
“And I’m rolling my eyes, so all is well,” Cate teased, as she wiggled her way out of her shirt and placed it beside the jar of brushes. She was a messy painter, always had been, and the last thing she needed was to get paint on her couch or walls.
“How are you, Mom?” Her daughter’s voice turned on a dime. She had been just as worried as Cate had been. In some ways, Jamie was so much like her father, but in this, she was Cate’s spitting image.
“Great. Why did you sound so worried when you asked me that?” It had probably been her intuitive nature, but Cate had to be sure she wasn’t sending her daughter guilt vibes unintentionally. Cate’s mother had done it to her for years before it all came to a head, and that was a fight she never wanted to have with her daughter.
“Mom, you’ve never lived alone.”
“I sort of did before you were born, you know.” She heard her daughter sigh with drama at her pathetic excuse. “Fine, I had to throw a party now that I had the freedom to do so.” Cate pulled her phone back as her daughter’s faux laughter filled the phone, almost causing Cate to respond in full-out, real laughter. Goodness, how she missed Jamie. She pulled her composure back together the best she could before responding. “What? That’s not funny. Moms need a life too, you know.”
“It kinda is, Mom, since you have two friends and one of them is in her sixties.”
“Sixty is the new forty.” Or so her friend Amelia reminded her often. She was the one more likely to throw a huge party, and both Jamie and Cate knew it.
“Whatever, Mom. So how was work today?” By work, she meant the crappy temp jobs Cate usually accepted in the summer, ever since summer school had been cut from her district’s budget.
“I told you I had a party.” Grabbing the tea kettle, Cate filled it as she waited for the amusing response she knew Jamie was forming.
“Fine, I’ll fill in the blanks. Work was work.”
“Actually, I practically did throw a party. I took a personal day and went to Creative Endeavors and made my bank account weep.” It wasn’t that much, but it had been pretty darn close, and she regretted nothing.
“Did you buy a painting?”
Cate had never told her daughter how much she missed and loved art. She had a few straggled paintings from before the accident, but that was the extent of her sharing. It only made sense that Jamie thought her mom was buying one of the owner’s paintings. So much for her clever reveal.
“Better!” Cate smiled at the squeal in her voice. She was acting like a kid getting their first car, though in a way, this was just as symbolic. Cars equaled freedom, and this was allowing herself the freedom to follow her dreams. “I turned the sunroom into an art studio.”
“Really?” There was no skepticism in her voice, which relieved Cate. The last thing she wanted was for her daughter to think she was going through a midlife crisis in response to being an empty-nester for the first time. “That’s fantastic! I love the painting we have in our living room.”
Cate had never shared with Jamie the true meaning of the picture in the living room, and it was something she vowed in that moment to change. It was an abstract piece she’d painted the night James had announced his intentions to marry her. It wasn’t a proposal, far from it. It was more of him staking his claim. The painting encapsulated the moment beautifully.
After her high-school sweetheart, Levi, had moved unexpectedly, Cate had been crushed and erected a wall around her heart to avoid future hurt. Even with James, whom she adored, she had never let another guy in. Until that moment. The one where James promised her forever, whether she was on board or not. After then, she slowly but surely let him in, until he completely owned her heart.
The painting was one she worked on immediately after he dropped her off. It had been her way of processing the conversation, and she looked at it often to remember how glad she was to take a chance on him, even if he hadn’t turned out to be her happily ever after. Because during the rest of their time together, he was her everything and that made the heartbreak worth it.
“Well, expect plenty more. I even enrolled in a painting class. Before long, you’ll be stuck with one of my pieces.” The tea kettle whistled, and Cate turned it off before pouring the water over her tea bag.
“At MCC?”
“Indeed.” She dunked the tea bag a few times before dropping it and jumping back. She had forgotten her half-naked status and managed to splash a drop of hot water on her belly. Brilliant. “I’ll be only ten minutes from you every Tuesday and Thursday evening from six to eight pm.”
“So if I play my cards right, I can parlay this into either an early or a late supper?”
Cate let out a slow breath. She had a slight concern that Jamie would feel that she was stepping on toes by “following her” to the city, but thankfully she saw it completely different. She saw it as free dinner. That would do quite nicely.
“Parlay away.” She grabbed her tea cup and wandered toward her bedroom. “See you soon.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“And I, you.” As Cate hung up and prepared for a shower, followed by a cuppa and a good read, she was practically dancing. She was really doing this. She was following her dream, even if only for the summer.