AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It struck Kate that it was the first time their father had been mentioned since the walk, and it didn’t immediately bring tears to her eyes. In fact, it had only made her feel warm inside to hear her dad mentioned in that context.
“Thanks,” said Ethan, a surprised look on his face. “I see that as a real compliment.”
“How’s the songwriting coming?” asked Zig. “Still stuck?”
Kate glanced at Ethan, wondering what his response would be. Since he’d mentioned it to her, it had been in the back of her mind, tickling her every time she looked at one of her photographs or heard a tune wandering through her head.
Ethan rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the reminder.”
“Look, man,” said Zig. “I offered you one of my apps. It can write the song for you.”
“Ha, ha,” said Ethan. “As if it were that simple.”
“It is. It is,” said Zig, but Kate saw the twinkle in his eyes.
Ethan threw a cushion at him. “You blaspheme. My talent is precious. God given. It is beyond any computer software or app.”
“Are you insulting my coding skills?” Zig folded his arms, his expression a mock glare.
Tom laughed and Kate had to smile.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to side with Ethan on this one,” said Tom.
“And me,” echoed Kate.
Zig held up his hand. “Bah, you’re musicians. You’re all biased.”
The words startled Kate. How long had it been since she thought of herself as a musician?
Twenty-Eight
Kate studied the image on the table, squinting her eyes a little to get that distant, objective feel of her work so far. With a sigh, she rose, propped the image against a hastily cobbled prop from a small pile of old books found in the corner and a worn, carved wooden box that at one time had contained essential oils or something.
She moved farther away from the image, blinking against the light coming from the fan-shaped window behind the work. Not the best way to look at her image, but still. A slight chill took her, and she rubbed her arms. She’d been still for so long that she’d started to feel the cold that was creeping into the attic as the patchy sun shifted to the back of the house. She’d need to bring a space heater up soon. The weather was really starting to shift into winter. It would be Thanksgiving shortly, she realized. She felt a stab of pain. The first. The first of the “firsts” she knew she was facing. And what hurt more, she now knew that the “lasts” for so much—holidays, special occasions—were too many years ago. And she had no one to blame but herself.
She sat on the floor with a thud and let the tears come. For days and days now, she’d fought feeling sad, fought that overwhelming sorrow that threatened to overtake her, to drown her. And now, she didn’t feel like fighting it, she just let it come. Max, who’d been curled up by the table, nudged her, and she hugged him, her sobs coming in great gulps.
She didn’t know how long it was before a sound penetrated her grief. And then a shout. Her name. She wiped her face using the heels of her hand, wondering if she would just ignore the person in the hopes he would go away. Max started to bark, making his way over to the door.
If Max’s barking hadn’t decided it for her, the opening of the attic door was the final arbiter. She looked up to see Ethan standing in the entrance. She stared at him, sniffing, watching Max go to him and lick his hand. Ethan patted him absentmindedly and frowned at Kate, his brows drawn into a question, until a moment later, when his expression flooded with understanding and compassion. He walked forward, lifted her up and folded her into his arms, rubbing her back. Kate felt the comfort and warmth of his embrace, the soothing rhythm of his hand against her back. They stood like that for countless moments, and Kate sank into it, wishing it would never end.
Eventually Ethan pulled back, checking her expression. “Bad moment?”
She nodded, and he put his arm across her shoulder.
“I wondered when I called and texted you and didn’t hear anything. I thought that it was something like this, or you might be working.” He nodded over to the table. “I see that both were true.”
She gave a weak laugh. “Sorry. Yes, I was working.” She looked around for her phone. “My phone must be downstairs.”
Ethan squeezed her to his side. “Spoken like a true artist.”
The smile she gave now had more of a genuine quality than her laugh. It was nice hearing him call her an artist.
“Can I see?” asked Ethan.
A small bout of butterflies rose in her stomach. Somehow, showing Ethan her raw work made her more nervous than any of the times she’d shown Giancarlo. She managed a small, indifferent shrug and gestured to the piece she was currently working on.
Ethan walked over to the table in front of the fan light, Max following and plonking down in his old spot. Ethan took up the piece there and turned it around so that the light shone on it. The seconds ticked by as he studied it, and Kate waited, unconsciously holding her breath.
