Page 7 of Forever Never
But it still smelled like home. Coffee and furniture polish.
Her landscape of Mackinac’s shoreline, one of her first paintings, still hung in the hallway that led to a sunny kitchen and dining room. And her parents still yelled from room to room.
“Remi Honey!” Gilbert Ford was one inch taller than his wife and a little less athletic. His dark red hair was always slightly mussed, clothes just a little mismatched, but he had a way of really listening to people that made them forget all about his disheveled appearance.
In his excitement, he missed the last step and nearly bowled both women over at the foot of the stairs. He flashed a sheepish grin before wrapping Remi up in a tight hug.
She closed her eyes and let herself be loved. “Hi, Dad.”
“What a wonderful surprise,” he said, swaying them side to side. Gilbert was an expert-level hugger and just the right medicine for what ailed his daughter at the moment.
How was it possible, Remi wondered, to be homesick while standing in her childhood home wrapped in the arms of the first man to ever love her?
“You didn’t know either?” Darlene asked her husband, shooting him a calculating look.
He shook his head, releasing Remi. “I had no idea,” he insisted, giving her hands a squeeze. “Didn’t you?”
Her parents were notoriously busy and often forgot to relay messages of varying importance to each other.
“I didn’t tell anyone I was coming home. I wanted to surprise you both,” she assured them.
Gilbert’s smile faded a bit, and his eyes narrowed behind the tortoiseshell glasses he’d been wearing for twenty years. “What’s this?” He gave Remi’s wrist a gentle squeeze.
“Oh, that. That’s a cast,” Remi said.
“A cast? As in you broke your arm?” Darlene barked.
“I was in a little fender bender. It’s just a baby break. No big deal.”
Her dad’s brow furrowed. “Can you paint with the cast, sweetie?”
“I haven’t really tried yet.”
So many little white lies, and she hadn’t even made it past the foyer. It was a record.
“Well, come on back. You can help yourself to some coffee and tell us all about it,” Darlene insisted. “How long do we have you?”
“I thought I’d stay for a couple of weeks. Take a little vacation,” she said, following her mom into the kitchen.
It was her favorite room in the house. After spending two straight weeks arguing about stains, her parents had gone rogue and painted the cabinets a hunter green. Glossy blue tiles made up the countertops. An odd-shaped island angled its way between the workspace and breakfast nook, a booth with deep cushions and a rich maple table built into the bay window.
“Did you get fired?” Darlene asked.
Remi snorted as she opened the mug cabinet over the coffeemaker and dug through the contents until she found her favorite. A chunky, bright yellow mug that said Don’t Worry Be Happy. “No, Mom. I didn’t get fired. I’m actually painting full-time now.”
“You are? Well, isn’t that—Holy crap! Is that the time?” Gilbert squawked, checking the microwave clock. “I have to get to school!”
“Well, shit. I have a call I can’t miss this morning,” Darlene noted as she glanced at her own watch.
Remi jumped out of the way as both parents dove for the coffeemaker to top off their travel mugs.
“Family dinner for our starving artist,” her mom decided, screwing the cap on her mug.
The starving part of that description was something Remi had, until recently, looked forward to dispelling. But now she couldn’t reveal the good news without breaking the bad.
“Tonight?” Gilbert shoved the now empty carafe back on the burner and frowned. “Do I have a thing or do you have a thing?”
“Double shit,” Darlene groaned. “You have the fundraiser at the basketball game tonight, and I have a town council meeting.”
