Chapter Thirteen
Leni
I CAN BARELY BREATHE AS I look around the beautifully lit space. This studio is simply gorgeous, and I’d be lying if I said that my framed pieces didn’t make it even better.
“I’m so proud of you, Leni girl,” Mimi says beside me.
“Thank you for being here, Mimi.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, my girl. These are some of your best pieces to date, I do believe.” Mimi nods her head in approval as she scans the room.
“I think so, too,” I agree. “I guess Texas isn’t all bad. Apparently, it makes for some great inspiration.”
“Oh, my girl, you’ll get there.” She pats me on the back. “You’ll get there.”
I’m about to ask her about her meaning when Frank joins us.
“It’s showtime,” he tells me. “Are you ready?”
“Yes!” I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life. My own show!
Frank heads to the front of the studio to open the doors. Liam appears and hands me a glass of wine.
“Thank you,” I tell him as I take him in. I can’t decide if he’s more attractive in his Wranglers or the black suit he’s wearing. “Gosh, you clean up nice. You are hot,” I say before blushing when I realize that Mimi is still standing beside me.
“I’m going to walk around,” Mimi says with a grin.
I can’t help but laugh.
“And you look beautiful, as always.” Liam softly kisses me. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thank you,” I tell him for probably the hundredth time.
“Knock ’em dead, baby.” He squeezes my free hand before leaving my side.
I make my way toward the people now entering the studio.
I greet the guests as they come in. I thought I’d be more nervous than I am. Everyone is so nice and interested in hearing about my art, inspirations, and techniques. Turns out, it’s really easy to talk about my own pieces. I know they’re good, and I just feel proud.
“Oh, sugar, we need this one for the baby’s room,” a woman says in a thick Texan accent.
I walk over to her and her husband as they stand in front of the canvas that I named Hope.
“I love this one, too,” I say to them.
It’s one of the few non-landscape pieces that I have in the show. It’s a close-up of the new calf’s face with emphasis on her soft nose and deep brown eyes. Baby cows are one of the cutest animals in the world. It was fun to paint her.
“Oh, it’s just darling. Are you the artist, dear?” the woman asks.
“I am.”
“Such a fantastic job. Do you have any others of baby animals? A horse or a piglet?” she asks.
“My wife is obsessed with decorating the nursery with baby farm animals,” the husband tells me with a chuckle, nodding toward her belly.
My eyes drop to the round belly that the woman has her hand on. “I don’t, but I could paint some.”
“Oh, I’d love that. We will definitely be getting this one, and I’d like to hire you to paint some more, if that’s okay.” She looks toward her husband. “Oh, sugar, I also want the one with the barn and the sunset over there. It will look great above our mantel. Go buy them before someone else does. Thank you, baby.”
She takes my business card, and I take hers, promising to touch base this week about the other paintings she wants. The feeling is surreal. Someone is commissioning my work. It’s unreal.
The night flies by in a blur. I talk so much that I feel like I’m about to lose my voice, and I’ve never felt happier. Frank is a true genius. He marketed the event so well, and traffic has been amazing the entire night.
“That, Leni, is what we call a success,” he says with a grin after he closes the doors behind the last guests.
“Oh my gosh. It was, wasn’t it?” I clap my hands together.
“We sold every piece.” He smiles wide.
“No, we didn’t.” I cover my mouth.
He nods. “We did.”
I start to jump up and down, and then I pull Mimi and Liam into a hug. The three of us hold on to each other for a few seconds. I’m so thankful that I got to share this moment, this life-changing day, with these two.
“I knew your work would go over well,” Frank says. “You’d better get to painting. We need to set up another show.”
“Okay, I can do that!”
I tell Frank how thankful I am for him several more times before Liam, Mimi, and I head out.
“Where should we go to celebrate?” Mimi asks.
“I know the perfect restaurant,” Liam says.
I raise my hand in excitement. “My treat! This is, like, the first real money that I’ve made. I still can’t believe it.”
We hop in Liam’s truck and drive a few minutes to the restaurant.
“Oh, valet parking. This place must be fancy,” I say as Liam pulls up to the restaurant.
A nice gentleman holds his hand out for Mimi as she steps down from Liam’s truck. He hands Liam a ticket as another valet drives up in a fancy sports car. I look at the shiny vehicle and can’t help but think that my dad is probably driving a pretentious, midlife-crisis vehicle like that right now.
It’s then that I hear it—his laugh. I’d know that deep chuckle anywhere. His laughter was a rarity when I was growing up, and the few times I heard it are ingrained in my brain. My eyes go wide when I see him. He’s facing the outside of the restaurant, hunched over a woman. He has one arm around her waist and the other propped against the building.
My mouth drops open as I watch his lips work their way up her neck until they’re engulfing her mouth in a kiss. He’s always looked like one of those suckerfish on the side of an aquarium when he kissed my mom. I shudder at the thought.
There’s just one big problem. This woman isn’t my mother.
The two of them separate and turn toward the car loop where Mimi and I stand, motionless, staring in their direction.
My father startles when he sees us but regains his composure before his hooker friend even notices he lost it. He continues to hold her hand as he walks toward us. He pauses momentarily as he passes.
“Eleanora, Mother,” he says with a curt nod before getting in his car and driving off.
I face Mimi, but no words come. She’s just as speechless as I am, and her face looks so sad. I can understand why. I’d be devastated if that were my son. Then again, I’m equally as bummed that he’s my father.
Liam asks if I’m okay.
“I . . .” I try to answer him, but I don’t know what to say. I reach for my purse and pull out my cell phone. I’m dialing my mom before I know it.
“Hello?” she answers.
“Where’s Dad?” I blurt out.
“Eleanora?”
“Where’s Dad?” I say again.
“He’s out of town, on business. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Are you and Dad still together?”
“Eleanora, what’s this about?” She sounds confused.
My voice shakes. “Are you and Dad still together?” I repeat.
“Of course we are. What’s going on? Are you okay?”
I slowly shake my head even though she can’t see me. Tears fall down my face. “You gave up everything for him, Mom, and he’s evil. You put him first. You put a horrible person first. You lost me and everything else for a cheater.”
I hang up before she can respond, but she doesn’t call back, and I’m not surprised. Deep down, I know that he’s probably never been faithful, and though I can’t comprehend her reasons for loving him, I think she’s always known.
I wrap my arms around Mimi, and she holds me as I cry. I don’t know why I care about my parents. They’ve certainly never cared for me. Yet, somehow, this recent discovery makes everything worse, and my chest aches.
“I just want to go home, Liam. I’m sorry.”
The drive back to Mason does nothing more than give my anger time to intensify. I’m twenty-three, and I still can’t stop my parents and their horrible lives from affecting me. I can’t fathom why I care. I’m living with my favorite person in the world and dating my other favorite person. I just had the best night of my career, and I can legitimately say that I’m happy. Then, I saw him, and it pulled me back into the darkness. And, now, to know that not only is he a horrible, judgmental, demanding, cold person . . . but he’s also unfaithful to a woman—albeit a weak one—who gave up everything for him, including me.
Regardless of how much I don’t want to care about my parents, I still do. No matter how many times I tell myself that I don’t need their approval, I still want it. And I hate that about myself the most.