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“Did you want to see June’s paintings?” I ask, and Lennon’s face falls.
“No, I don’t. I literally showed up to see your shit, Ellis.” She glances at Finn. “No offense to your mom.”
“I don’t think she cares.”
When Noah walks in behind them from the glass doors, his eyes flick between Lennon and the man she still hasn’t introduced us to.
We’ve had a few get-togethers over the last month, and for some reason, whenever Lennon shows up, Noah has the sudden urge to talk about every date he’s ever been on with details nobody wants to know.
So, when his face twists into something I can’t recognize, and he ignores both her and her date, it confuses me–just slightly.
Lennon only shrugs.
“Happy for you, Ellie,” Noah says, and at the warmth in his words, I can’t help but feel some of it, too.
I am happy.
I’m really, really happy.
Twenty-Nine
Griffin
Standing in front of one of my mom’s paintings, I allow the lights of the gallery to shine on every brush stroke and mark she created. While guests file in and view my mom’s work as art, I just picture painting in the sunroom with one of my dad’sT-shirts hanging down to my ankles, and inevitably ruining Storm’s artwork by smearing orange all over it.
He used to hate that.
“Griffin.” My mom’s hand finds my bicep as she sidles up next to me. Wrinkles form at the corners of her eyes, her hair falling into her face–escaping the claw clip she always uses. “Two of Ellie’s drawings are gone.”
“What?” My heart rate picks up, body suddenly tense at the thought that someone would take one of her–
My mom pats my cheek and laughs. “Settle down, son.” Her hazel eyes sparkle in the gallery light–amused at my sudden shift in mood. “People bought them,” she finally says.
I must become fucking manic because I’m suddenly soaring. “Have you told her?” I ask, my eyes scanning the room we’re in for any sign of Ellie. She’s going to lose her shit. I’ve been listening to her worry about her pieces for weeks, beating herself up and saying she’s only part of the show because of my mom. And while that may be true, it doesn’t speak on her talent.
Not in the slightest.
My mom smooths down her black turtleneck tucked into whatever shiny cream-colored pants she’s wearing. “I thought you’d be the one to let her know.” When she looks at me again, she seems so proud. “Anyway,” she begins. “Are you ready for your trip tomorrow?”
I nod. “I think so. Ellis is dropping me off at the airport in the morning.” I pause, an ache forming in my chest at the thought of leaving her. It’s a weird mix of excitement, hope, and sadness–the kind of swirl of emotions that reminds you that you never have to be or feel one thing. “We’ll see.”
“It’ll be good for you to get out and do this.” My mom pats my cheek again. “Ellie’s a good one, too. She’ll support you, and just so you know, we’re all very proud of you, Griffin.”
I meet her smile with my own before turning back to the painting. “Thanks mom.”
My head spins when I hear heels clicking against the light hardwood, seeing Cass determined with her brow furrowed as she makes a straight line to me. “Finn, have you seen Ellis?” she asks.
“No, not in a while. She was off talking to guests.”
Cass huffs, folding her arms across her chest, her eyes scanning the room. “Lennon is looking for her. I guess her date left, and now she’s on the patio outside the gallery shouting at Noah.” For what it’s worth, Cass looks stressed. “I think they may kill each other,” she mutters.
I chuckle gently sliding past her as my mom disappears into the guests mulling around the room. “I’ll find her,” I say.
When she’s not in the room featuring her drawings, I move toward the patio, but don’t see anyone out there aside from a random guest, and Ellie’s aunt.
Turning back, I move to the hallway where the bathroom is located, and catch Ellis fiddling with the handle.
I quicken my pace, quickly reaching her and sliding into the single restroom behind her, pulling the door closed and locking it.
