Page 120 of Finding New Dreams

“Yes, that’s the word. We could tell you were acting differently but didn’t want to push. You always came to us in your own time.”

My eyes prickled. This was why I came home. They understood me. It helped that Dad was a tenured psychology professor and Mom was a retired kindergarten teacher.

“I can start talking now,” I said.

So I told them the story of me and Flynn, which I’d been holding back from them for weeks. They listened, asking a clarifying question here and there. Eventually, dinner was eaten. The dishes were washed and put away. And then we were out on the patio, which was aglow with solar-powered ornaments and string lights. Several pieces of Mom’s sticky, sweet strawberry pie disappeared before I was done talking.

Dad leaned back in his wicker chair to think, stroking his gray-and-white beard. My mom was not so ponderous.

“So Flynn doesn’t really know how you feel?” she asked.

I threw up my hands. “I don’t really know how I feel. That’s the problem! I met this totally perfect guy, Paul, but there was zero attraction. Zero fantasizing about our lives together. But with Flynn…oh, all the dreams and fantasies! And the overwhelming attraction is what brought us together in the first place, so that’s not an issue. But I even—” I bit my lip. “I even started picturing what life would be like with him in Tangled River. If we were together. Forever. Running the gallery with him. Painting with him. Teaching our kids to paint. Adopting a few pets. Going on family trips to see amazing things.” I broke off, trying to swallow my sudden tears for a future that never existed.

Mom patted my hand, but Dad grunted. “Why can’t you admit you’re in love with him, Bug? What’s holding you back?”

“Because I’m not supposed to fall in love with him! We don’t want the same things. He doesn’t live in Tangled River. I don’t want to live in L.A. He doesn’t want marriage or kids—at least, I don’t think so.”

Dad fixed me with a heavy stare. “Is this because of that boy in college? Did that situation make you feel like you had to control your future relationships?”

“Well, yes, partly. And you guys always told me to have a plan. To think ahead. To know what I want and strategically plan to get it. That’s what I’m trying to do so I can avoid heartbreak.”

“Just make sure you’re not hiding behind this list as a way to not take a chance on love. When was the last time you let someone get this close?”

I hung my head. “College.”

Mom squeezed my hand. “Ah, baby girl, I know he hurt you really bad, but you know they’re not all like that. I mean, my goodness, look what we all had to go through before we finally found each other.” My gaze shot up to meet hers. “You had your sweet heart broken again and again trying to find your family, just as we did trying to find you.”

“But you had criteria too, didn’t you? You weren’t looking for just anybody.”

Mom smiled. “We had some general guideposts, but we wanted a feeling, a soul connection. And the minute we looked into your big, beautiful eyes, we knew. Sure, it took some adjustment, and time to build trust, but so does any relationship.”

Dad nodded. “You have a lot of love to give, sweetheart. We noticed that right off the bat. To us, other kids, animals, nature, art, yourself…but I’ve only seen you hold back when it comes to the kind of love that lets someone into your whole being.” He rubbed Mom’s shoulder. “It’s a beautiful thing when it happens, Bug. I wish you would let yourself.”

“I want that,” I whispered brokenly. “But how do I know when to do it? For whom?”

His eyes twinkled. “Sometimes our hearts know things before our minds do. That busy mind of yours may just need to be quiet for a moment and listen. Like when you paint. What do those feelings tell you?”

Mom kissed me on the cheek. “You don’t have to do it now. But I did put fresh art supplies in your room. I know you like to paint sometimes when you visit. By the way, Mrs. Klinefeldt bought one of your dreamscapes and she simply adored it…”

Our conversation wandered through more topics until my phone rumbled against my thigh. Digging it out of my leggings, I answered it.

“Hey, what’s up, Gina?”

“You make it to your mom and dad’s okay?” she asked.

“Yep.” I nodded at their waving and smiling. “They say hi.”

“Hi back! But listen, I got a phone call from Chloe, and she had me do something for her…for you. So be sure to check your email tonight. Or, like, now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“You’ll see. Have fun!” She ended the call before I had a chance to say bye.

“That was weird,” I muttered to myself, and immediately checked my email.

“What is, honey?” Mom asked, practically bouncing in her seat. She always did love a good surprise. She still talked about the surprise birthday party Dad and I threw on her fiftieth.

My eyes skimmed the email from Gina. Shock, excitement, and dread ricocheted through my body. “It’s an invitation,” I whispered.

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