Page 74 of The Sting of Love
“Me?” he asks.
I raise my shoulders into a little shrug. “Yes. I guess something to remember me by. I was going to drop it off at the club. Just give me a sec and I’ll get it.”
His eyes follow me as I go into the kitchen and when I come back out with the large square travel bag I placed the painting in.
He takes it from me when I give it to him, looking over it with curiosity. When he pulls the painting out of the bag the awe in his expression grips me. His eyes take on a glassy look and he looks from me to the painting then back to me.
“My mother…” he states.
“Yeah. I don’t usually do replicas. I’m more of a watch and paint live kind of girl, but the picture of your mother at the beach house was so moving and beautiful that I thought it would be nice to do it.” I painted it on the beach from memory and it was the first painting I’ve done this year that had my emotion filled style embedded within it.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it. Willow…” He reaches out and touches my face briefly. Too brief. “I… There were two instances in my life when I felt helpless. The first was when I was twelve. I watched my father’s enemies kill my mother. They shot her right in front of me and there wasn’t a thing I could have done about it.”
My lips part and shock slams into my chest. I wondered how she died. I should have known that it must have been horrible for neither Donny nor his father to talk about it.
“Oh Donny… oh God. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stir up painful memories with the painting.”
He smiles at me. “No… I know you didn’t and it doesn’t. The picture you painted was of her last happy memory. That’s why I keep it in the house. That was the month before she died. It means a lot that you did this.”
“I’m really glad you like it.”
“I do.” He pauses for a few moments and swallows hard. “Willow… the second time in my life when I felt helpless was when that threat was made on your life. I didn’t know what to do or how it was going to turn out. That’s why I did what I did. I’m sorry it happened that way and I’m… sorry I… can’t be with you.”
I just nod. It’s the best reaction I can give him because he’s decided what’s best for the both of us. Maybe he’s right.
I can tell just from looking at him that the loss of his mother in such a violent way is something that’s influencing his decision. I know him well enough now to guess that he wouldn’t have told me if it didn’t.
“I understand,” I say. “I… understand.”
He dips his head with reverence and that look in his eyes allowing me to see his soul. One last time.
He said I wouldn’t see him again. So this is it. The last time.
“Be safe Willow,” he says and surprises me with a chaste kiss to my forehead.
With that he leaves and tears stream down my cheeks as the door clicks shut.
* * *
“Hi sweetie,” Mom says.
“Hi Mom.”
This is the first time that we’ve spoken in weeks and it feels weird to talk to her.
I called her just like I promised myself, deciding not to put it off any longer.
I’m willing to admit too that I probably called because part of me needed her.
“I’m so glad you called me. I’ll be flying over next week to see you.”
I straighten up against the sofa and gasp. “What?”
“Willow. You are my daughter and I’m aware that our relationship has been tense. There are many things I’ve said that I shouldn’t have said to you and I know you have some feelings toward me that are perfectly expected after the way I’ve behaved.”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing or that I’m speaking to the same woman. I almost feel like asking her if she’s her.
“Mom, you don’t have to fly out to see me.”
