When I heard the knock, I tugged my apron straight, swiped a streak of cobalt from my arm, and opened the door.
“Jazzy,” my mom exclaimed, sweeping me into her arms before I could blink. “You look wonderful.”
Behind her, my dad carried their suitcases, his eyes already darting past me into the chaos. He let out a long whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
They stepped inside, blinking at the sheer size of the canvas. Kai had screwed two by fours into the ceiling to hold it into place. It was too big for an easel, stretching from ceiling to floor with amuslin drop cloth underneath. The painted waves towered over them, sunlight fractured into bands of turquoise and indigo, a heron rising at the center. My best work. My biggest risk.
Mom pressed a hand to her mouth. “Oh, honey.”
Dad moved around the enormous canvas like he was sizing up a piece of heavy machinery. “You weren’t exaggerating. This thing could anchor a ship.”
“It’s the first big one for Paradise Key,” I said, suddenly self-conscious. My parents had seen my sketches and crude acrylics back in Minnesota, had humored my dream of moving south to paint. But they’d never stood in the middle of it, never seen what it meant when the dream took up the whole house.
Mom reached out to touch the edge of the frame like it was as dear to her as it was to me. “It’s… breathtaking.”
I laughed a little, nerves buzzing. “Or suffocating. Depends on where you’re standing.”
Her gaze flicked around the room—at the brushes, the smaller canvases stacked against the wall, the sun-bleached shells I’d started collecting on the windowsill. Then she turned back to me, her expression softer than I’d seen in years. “We worried about you, you know. When you left home. Moving to a place where you didn’t know anyone, chasing this wild dream…”
“I know,” I said quietly.
“We thought maybe it was a phase.” Her fingers brushed over the canvas again. “But look at you. Look what you’ve built here. We were wrong to doubt.”
Dad gave a sharp nod, his voice gruff. “We’re proud of you, kiddo. Damn proud. You followed it through.”
The words hit deeper than I expected. For months I’d been proving it to myself with every brushstroke, every sale. But hearing it from them hit different.
Behind me, the dogs erupted in happy barks as the back door creaked wider. Kai stepped in, sun-tanned and grinning, a bag of groceries under one arm. Fisher and King weaved around his legs, tails thumping against the walls.
“Just in time,” I smiled at Kai, my heart up in my throat. This was the moment I’d been looking forward to, and slightly dreading, for over a month since we’d planned the trip. They were meeting the guy who’d won my heart. “My parents just got here.” I smiled at my dad. “Dad, this is my boyfriend, Kai. Kai, meet my father, Eric.”
Kai shifted the bag to the other hand so he could offer my dad a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Eric. You raised an amazing young woman.”
“Well, thank you. But I think Amanda deserves more credit than I do.”
Kai shook my mom’s hand. She stared up at him with big eyes and I could tell she was already smitten.
“I brought supplies,” he said, setting the bag on the counter. “Just some stuff for breakfasts and snacks.”
“Thank you so much,” my mother said before turning to me. “And thank you for letting us stay in your house. I didn’t want to wait until our renters leave next month.” Mom’s gaze darted between us, reading more than I wanted her to. Kai wiped his hands on his board shorts and crossed to stand at my side, his palm brushing mine in a simple, unspoken claim.
The look he gave me—steady, warm, utterly sure—made my chest ache. And when I looked back at my parents, when I saw their pride shining brighter than their worry, I knew they saw it too.
“We were concerned that you’d be lonely down here,” Mom admitted. “Scared you’d regret it. But…” She glanced at Kai, then at the painting that filled the room. “Clearly you’re right where you belong.”
I swallowed hard, words tangling in my throat. Because only Kai and I knew how sharp that fear had cut, how close their worry had come to being justified. The weeks of waiting for shadows to strike before the nightmare was behind us.
Kai’s thumb brushed over my knuckles, grounding me.
Dad cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “What’s this one called?” He gestured toward the massive canvas, its blues catching the afternoon light.
I looked at it for a long moment. At the heron standing regal in the shallows. At the colors I’d mixed from joy instead of fear.
Finally, I smiled. “A New Home.”
The word felt right in my mouth, solid in my chest.
Mom’s eyes softened, glistening. “Perfect.”
Kai bent to kiss the top of my head, his voice a whisper meant only for me. “Just like you.”
****
