Page 66 of Forgiving Paris
Ashley held her father’s phone, her fingers trembling. “Can… I listen to it now?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Please.” He swiped at a tear on his cheek. “On this day… this momentous day… you should know your mom used to say you painted with more than reds and blues.” Her dad put his hand on her shoulder. “She believed you painted with times gone by. With the memories of family and the certainty of faith. I had to be here to tell you that.” He looked at the phone again. “And to bring you this.”
A part of her was thrilled to hear the compilation of things her mother had said about her being an artist. But she was almost afraid to push the play button. Afraid she wouldn’t be able to breathe from the weight of missing her mom. Especially on a night like this.
Finally, she couldn’t wait another moment. They were still alone, so while it was quiet enough to hear the recording, Ashley started the clip and held the phone a little closer.
“Hello precious Ashley, I must say I love this project. Reading my letters to each of you kids and recording myself. Because some far-off day I have to believe that hearing this will make you smile.”
Ashley hung her head and let her tears come again.Mom… you’re here, after all.She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on her mother’s words.
“Anyway, about your artwork… Ashley, you are the most talented artist.” The recording was edited so seamlessly, Ashley felt like she was listening to a single letter. A message from her mom to her alone, for such a night as this.
“There’s something so special about a blank canvas. I know you—of all people—agree, precious daughter. Oh, the things you create on a blank canvas. You see things that aren’t, Ashley, and you bring them to life as if they had been there all along. I love that about you.”
Ashley took her father’s hand as she kept listening.
“I know I tell you all the time, Ash, but you are such a talented artist. You really are. Today I was missing the moments when you were in fifth grade. Remember that Peter Pan play you and your friends put on when you were in Mr. Garrett’s class? You were Wendy and you had your own ideas about how things should go at the end. Neverland forever! That was your way of playing the part, and so you did. It was a moment I will remember always, sweet girl.” Her mother’s soft laugh was full of light and hope. Nothing to indicate how sick she was. “Your love for your life, your determination to never grow old! Such good times, Ashley.”
She paused the recording and laughed. “Remember that? I was so rebellious.”
“You were creative.” Her dad patted her knee. “Your mom and I always loved that about you.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Ashley held his eyes for a moment before starting the message once more.
“So, since I was missing those days, I went down to the basement where you keep your paintings. Every one of them. And I was simply breathless, precious daughter. You have been given such a great gift from God.” Sincerity rang in her mom’s voice. “Precious Ashley, I can picture you being old and gray one day and finding these letters and knowing—to the core of your being—that your father and I believed in you. Truly, honey, one day people will line up to buy your artwork. And all the world will see home and family and faith through your beautiful eyes.”
Again Ashley stopped the recording. It was like her mother was sitting here beside her. She worked to collect herself.
“See? Why I had to bring it to you?” Her dad put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a long hug. “Your mother always knew you would be here one day.” He took his time. “Listen to the rest.”
“Ashley, my dear, look at what your simple drawings have become! I believe that one day, Ash… one day you will have a gallery show in Paris, France. Yes, all the way across the ocean in Paris. Where art is so important, and people expect the very best. And there you will be, among the greats.”
“What?” Once more, Ashley paused her mother’s voice. “How could she have…” Ashley felt the sense of wonder grow, proof that God was here. Giving her this very great gift. Her mother’s voice, her words of encouragement. Her love.
The recording began again. “But between you and me, you’re already that good. Even if your gallery is only here in the basement for now.” There was a slight pause on the message. “Ashley, we haven’t heard from you in a while. You’re still in France, and I know you’re figuring things out, and that’s okay. Your father and I are praying for you every day. God is with you, we know that.
“But even though you are struggling, I am convinced of this. You’re supposed to be in Paris right now. I’m not sure why, Ashley, but I can feel it every time I pray. God is using you there. Maybe because you really are going to showcase your paintings in France.
“Or maybe He’s doing something else with your time away. Whatever it is, I am at peace. Because God is working in your life, sweet girl. I know He is.
“I love you always, Mom.”
Ashley stared at the phone and then she held it to her chest, to her heart. “I miss her so much.” She put her arms around her father and held him tight. “Thank you, Dad. I’ll listen to this a million times.”
“I know you will.” Her dad kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t think of a greater gift.”
She took a few seconds to send the sound file to herself. So she could share it later with Landon and Cole, and keep it forever. Her mother’s words, and more than that her mother’s belief that one day she would be here, having a show in Paris. Her certainty that God would make good out of whatever had gone wrong the first time she was here.
Which He had done so clearly.
And the best part, the part that would stay with Ashley always. The chance—here at a gallery in Paris—to hear her mother say, “I love you.”
One more time.
23
Rain fell across Paris the next morning, so Ashley and Landon slept in. Once they were out of bed, Ashley took a little longer washing her face. Her head still hurt a little from the tears and laughter of yesterday.
