“Shame. I’d love to take you away from here. We could have a nightcap and see where it leads us. Are you and your date serious?”
A nightcap? “Uh. Oh, I’m not sure.”
“Well, if you decide he’s not the one, call me.” Chip leans in again and whispers, “I’ve got keys to the offices here. We could pop back there and…”
Feeling the need to escape like right. now I say quickly, “Oh, I see Pamela over there. I need to go.”
“Very well,” he sighs. Not giving up, Chip pulls a card from his pocket and slides it into the top of my dress lingering a little too long over my left breast, “Call me.”
Ooh, that was icky. Now I know why he made me nervous. He’s a creep. I nod and smile, “Nice meeting you,” I say as I skitter away. Not.
I find my way back to the paintings. It’s rather peaceful near the art since most of the crowd is gathered in the center talking to one another. I’ve noticed the paintings are all done in a similar style, they’re all abstract, and they all have metallic pieces somewhere on the painting. They are all nice, but one of them stands out to me. When I round a corner, I see a small painting alone in an alcove. I approach it slowly because there’s something about it that makes it unique. I can tell.
When I stand face-to-canvas, I note that it’s the smallest painting I’ve seen so far. It’s probably about twelve inches square. I stand close enough to see this one sparkles. The colors are all soft blues and violets making areas the color periwinkle. Stepping back a bit, I look at the label and gasp. The title is ‘Hydrangea’, and it’s made with oil and diamond dust on linen. The diamond dust is what sparkles.
I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Doing my best to gather myself I feel a tap on my shoulder. Wiping the tear, I turn to see Victoria. “Victoria?” I wrap my arms around her tiny body and squeeze. “It’s so nice to see you. I didn’t know you were coming.”
She hugs me back, “Why are you crying? Did my brother say something? Do I need to kick his ass?”
Chuckling, I wipe my face again. “No. It’s this little painting.”
“The painting made you sad?”
“No. It reminded me of someone I lost last year.” My mom. I lost her suddenly last year. It was heartbreaking. Mom and I were so close, as close as two people could be. There are some days I can’t believe she’s gone. There are days I don’t want to get out of bed. But, I know she’s up there, watching over me.
“In a good way?”
“Yes, in a good way. Her favorite flower was the Hydrangea, and her favorite color was periwinkle. She would have loved this. She'd love all of these paintings. They’re amazing.”
“May I ask who ‘she’ was?”
“My mom.” I let another tear drip down my cheek. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be sad. I just miss her.”
“I’m sorry you lost her, Lex, but I’m glad you like my paintings. It means a lot coming from you.”
“Huh?”
“I said, I’m…”
“Yourpaintings? These areyours?” I say pointing toward the long wall of paintings.”
“Yes. You didn’t know?”
I shake my head. “No. So, you’re V. Brooks?”
“Brooks is my married name.”
“Oh. Wow. You’re amazing Victoria.”
“Thank you.”
I look up and see Gabriel from across the room. He’s waving his arm above his head. Nodding, I pat her elbow. “Oops, I’d better go. Your brother is waving.”
“Yes, you’d better go. He can be quite demanding, can’t he?” Chuckling, she gives me a gentle hug as we part ways.
