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When I was finished, I stood at the window and glanced around at the view. I hoped I could find a studio as nice as this one, at some point. If I was going to finish my MA thesis, as I hoped, I would be busy for the first year, but after that, I wanted to make sure to keep up my art no matter what I did for a living.
I handed in my keys to Christina, one of the managers of the studio space, and gave her a quick hug, thanking her for accepting my application when I first looked into the studio.
“It’s been a godsend for me,” I said as she walked me to the front entry. “Kept me sane and gave me a place to go and just be myself. At home, I’m mommy, stepmom, daughter, stepdaughter, wife, partner. Chief cook and bottle washer. Here, I’m just Kate. Struggling artist.” I smiled at her. “Don’t get me wrong — I wouldn’t trade any of those identities, but I need this one just for me.”
“Keep working,” Christina said. “Don’t stop. You’re good. You have a vision and should express it.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” I said, and we hugged one more time. “Thanks for everything. Take care and say goodbye to everyone for me.”
“I will.”
I got into my vehicle and drove off, watching the studio disappear in my rear-view mirror. I sighed with part contentment that I had the job done, and part sadness that I was saying goodbye to my life here.
* * *
When I arrived home,Sophie was playing with her toys on the patio and my father was sitting up on a lounge chair, his wheelchair beside him. He was watching Sophie while she played with her toys in the small sandbox. Elaine was in the kitchen preparing something for our dinner.
“He’s up,” I said and stood beside Elaine, who was washing lettuce in the kitchen sink. “He must be feeling better to drag himself out here.”
“He wanted to watch the sunset. We’re eating al fresco in case you didn’t know.”
“Sounds good to me. What can I do?”
For the next half hour, Elaine and I fixed a light dinner while Sophie played, and my father enjoyed the view. We sat around the small table on the patio, with my father at the head and the rest of us at our usual places. He looked pale but was determined to sit and eat with us.
“I’m not willing to eat in bed another meal in bed,” he said, finally enjoying his food. “I’ve had breakfast, lunch and dinner in bed too many days in a row. I want to be able to sit up and enjoy the flight back to New York.”
“You must be feeling a lot better,” I said. “Drake will be happy when he sees you on Sunday.”
My father nodded. “I think the antibiotics finally took care of everything. I barely have a cough now. Fit as an old worn-out fiddle.”
I smiled and felt a surge of relief flood through me. I was worried he wouldn’t be well enough to travel, but he really did seem like he felt better and could travel without too much hardship.
We had an enjoyable dinner, spent the evening watching the sun set and stars appear in the growing darkness, taking about our plans for the return.
“I’m glad to be going back to the good old US of A,” my father said, his voice wistful. “But I will miss England. I’ve come to appreciate the climate here and the small town feel of this house. Maybe we can live on Fire Island when we go back. It might be a bit like this if we can find the right place.”
“Fire Island would be nice for a summer home,” I said and squeezed his hand. “But I hope we can live close so I can see you a lot, and so Sophie and Liam can grow up knowing you.”
“Hopefully, this old body has a few more years left it in if the damn pandemic doesn’t get me first.”
“You now have immunity plus vaccinations, so hopefully, you’ll be good.”
“Humph,” he replied, shaking his head. “Hope in one hand and crap in the other, see which one fills up faster.”
“Oh, Daddy…” I stood, kissing him on the head. “We’ll make it work. We have the best healthcare in the world, and will be fine, okay?”
He reached up and squeezed my hand. “I think I’d like to go to bed now.” He yawned as if to make the point. “Can you wheel me back inside?”
“Will do,” I said and did just that. We’d set up his hospital bed in the office, and so I wheeled him back to his bed and helped him get into it. Then, I raised the head and got him set up. Elaine came in and stood beside his bed.
“I’ll take over, Kate. You go and be with Sophie for a while.”
“I wanted to read her a goodnight book, but I’m too tired,” my father said, his eyes heavy. “I’ll read her one tomorrow.”
“She’ll like that.” I kissed his forehead and then tucked some blankets around him, sighing in contentment that he was truly much better than just twenty-four hours earlier.
I went out to the patio where Sophie was now playing with her toy unicorns. She had different voices for each of them and they were busy talking about something magical.
