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“Is there anything that you’d like to do?” Oliver asks.
“I was thinking of visiting Dad,” I say slowly. “But, I’d have to call him and see whether he’s going to be home today.”
“So, what if he isn’t around?” Simon says with a shrug. “We can hang out with Heather until he comes home in the evening.”
An amused chuckle escapes me. “I didn’t know you guys were so fond of her.”
“Well, we are,” says Oliver, flashing a bright grin.
“I never got a chance to meet her,” Seth says. “How about you introduce me to her this time?”
My heart swells with joy. Heather is like family to me. It feels wonderful to see Seth, Oliver and Simon love her as much as I do.
“Let me give Dad a call,” I say, pushing back my chair.
“Go ahead and make up a plan,” says Seth, draining his coffee. “We’ll clean up in here in the meantime.”
I nod and hurry out of the kitchen.
Before heading upstairs, I walk into the living room and head toward the front door of the house.
At once, a heavy floral fragrance wafts toward me. Walking out, I look up at the bright blue sky before turning my attention to the pale pinkish-white apricot blossoms.
Taking a deep breath, I soak in the sight before me and enjoy the warm sunshine. The tree in our backyard must also be flowering now.
Past memories of bright spring afternoons rush in, reminding me of a time when my mom was around. Even though so many years have gone by since she passed away, I still miss her.
With one last glance at the blossoming tree, I walk back into the house and head upstairs.
Reaching my room, I grab my phone from its charging point and speed-dial Dad.
“Rory!” Dad’s familiar voice sounds after a single ring. “Morning, sweetheart. I was just about to call you.”
“Oh? What’s up?”
“I got into an interesting conversation with Senator Vaughn about the painting you purchased at that charity.”
“What painting?”
“The painting with the twin lilies. Don’t you remember buying it? You haven’t come home or you’d have seen it hanging in the entrance hall.”
The mention of the twin lilies paints a familiar picture in my mind. He’s talking about the painting I’d been planning to bid on the night I first met Oliver and Simon.
“I don’t remember bidding on it though,” I say slowly.
“How could you forget?” Dad asks in a surprised tone. “You paid ten thousand dollars for it.”
“Dad, it wasn’t me. I remember being impressed by the painting but then I met Oliver and...” The memory of that evening comes rushing back to me, reminding me of the small, furtive conversation I had with Oliver before fleeing from him.
Did Oliver and Simon buy that painting for me?
“Rory...” Dad says when I’ve stayed quiet for too long.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” I say. “What did some senator have to say about the painting?”
“He was interested in buying it too,” Dad says, chuckling. “The asshole. I’m sure he bid low on it, thinking no one else will go for it. So, this is what I said to him. You can come to see it on the evening of my birthday party.”
The glee in his voice makes me shake my head. “You don’t like that man, do you?”
