Page 21 of Since the Day We Left

He shrugged. “It’s okay. Resigned after and been doing odd jobs since—construction, dog walking, and yard work. Whatever I can find.”

“That why you’re back here?”

“Part of it.” His eyes went to Arthur then back to her. “He got diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a couple years back. Yesterday, his neighbor called me at two in the morning. Found him wandering the beach in his pajamas.” He tapped his thumb against his mug, once, twice, before exhaling. “Has his good days, good moments. And bad ones.”

She hesitated before resting a hand on his forearm. “That must be hard.”

His gaze flicked to where she touched him and he gave her a small, lopsided smile. “Yeah. But he still paints. Seems to help.”

She returned the smile, pulling her hand back. “He’s lucky to have you.”

“Just doing what I have to.”

The simplicity of his words sent a warmth through her bones.

For a beat, they just stood there. Wendi found herself studying the curve of Miles’ jaw. When she realized she was staring, she set her mug down. “So ... dog walking, huh?”

“What? That surprises you?”

“Just trying to picture you wrangling a pack of poodles.”

“Word on the street is that I’m the best dog walker east of the Mississippi,” he said, grinning now.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Definitely. Though, between us, I think they walked me more than I walked them.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” Wendi chuckled, shaking her head. “We should probably check on your dad.”

When they returned, Arthur was putting the final touches on a scene so striking that Wendi froze mid-step.

He’d captured the light filtering around storm clouds, with one patch of ocean lit up while everything else remained in shadow. A small boat sat on the bright water, its sails standing out against the darker waves around it. It seemed to move, as if the light was pulling it forward through the storm.

“Arthur ... Wow, this is gorgeous,” she said.

He looked up. “Not my best work. Nothing like my special project.”

“Special project?”

“Been working on it for months,” he said, cleaning his brush. “Most important painting I’ve ever done. Needs to be perfect.”

Wendi caught Miles’ raised brow.

News to him too.

“I plan to finish it tomorrow. I’ve got a nice frame for it too. It’ll be ready for the auction.”

Wendi smiled. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Arthur began cleaning his brush. “It’s been a lot of fun here today.”

“Yeah, today’s flown by,” Miles said, examining the painting.

“It really has.” Wendi’s smile faltered, slightly. “I was thinking about grabbing dinner—feel like joining?”

Arthur shooed them off. “Go on, you kids have fun. I’ve got a TV dinner and a painting to finish.”

“Dad, are you sure?”

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