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"Okay.So, you're an artist?—"
"I'm trying to be again, but I haven't been in a long time."
She ignored that as she reached into her bag and pulled out the brochure from the gallery."Here's the painting by David Leoni that was stolen six months ago."She handed it across the table."Nick, can I have your phone?Is it okay if I turn it on for a moment?"
"I think so."He nodded, turned on his phone, and handed it to her."
"I want you to look at the painting in the brochure and then look at these," she told her mom."Each one features a narrow focus with shadows or blurs at the edges."
"The stone wall is very well done," her mother murmured.
She got up and moved around the table to sit in the chair next to her mother.She held up the first photo by Tomas."This is Tomas's bird in a tree."She flipped to the next picture."Lucinda's stairway to nowhere."She gave her mother a chance to see each painting and then moved to the last one."Frederico's patterned tiles.Am I crazy, or does it feel like they're all part of a bigger picture?"
Her mother took the phone from her hand and looked through the photos once more."I think you might be right, Isabella.But how do they go together?"
"That's what I'm hoping you can tell me.Why would they pick these particular scenes to paint?"
"I can't read their minds.What do you think?"
She was shocked her mom wanted to know what she thought."Well, someone stole all their paintings, so they have to go together.It's possible that the pictures form a bigger scene when put together, or the canvases are covering up stolen art or forgeries and this actual picture we're seeing means nothing."
"Those are two different ideas," her mom muttered.
"But there's another thing.We believe there is one more painting that they're looking for.Tomas exchanged letters with someone he only calledJ.It sounded like he'd given her a painting to keep safe.It also appeared that he had strong romantic feelings for her.I thought maybe Lucinda and Tomas were involved?—"
"No, they weren't together that way," her mother said."Lucinda wrote about Tomas in her diary.She wasn't in love with him.He was her best friend in the world.And she wanted him to be happy."Her mother paused."She wanted him to stop running away from love that was complicated.He had feelings for her close friend, but her friend was married, and he said he couldn't pursue it."
"Who was the friend?Was it Juliette Sabatini?"
Her mother gave her a confused look."No.I don't remember seeing that name in the diary.Her friend's name was Jasmine."
"Jasmine," she echoed, shooting Nick a quick look."That starts with aJ."
"Do you know her last name?"Nick asked.
"It was Pariso.I remember because Jasmine Pariso sounded so exotic and beautiful.It stuck with me.Lucinda and Jasmine inspired me.They were chasing their artistic dreams.And that's what I wanted to do.But I didn't want to be exactly like them, because they were weighed down by husbands, children, and responsibilities."
She frowned."I don't get it, Mom.You say you were inspired by them, and you went to the States to have a life, to chase your dreams—what happened?"
"You know what happened.I had a baby.I couldn't be selfish and be an artist.I had to take care of you, Isabella."
"I know I was the dream killer, but what about when you met Gary?You could have painted then, but you didn't.You gave up every part of yourself to be his wife.You devoted yourself to him, to entertaining his friends, dressing the way he wanted you to, following him blindly."She hadn't meant to get started down this road, but now she couldn't stop."Even after you got out of jail, what did you do?You fell for some other guy with a million problems that you had to take care of.What happened to the girl who traveled across the world to have her own life?You can't blame me for all the other bad choices."
Her mother stared back at her, moisture gathering in her eyes."I don't blame you, Isabella, not for any of it.I made decisions, and a lot of them were bad.But that's why I'm here.I want to find myself again.I want to be someone you can be proud of."
She could feel herself weakening and feeling sorry for her mother, and she hated that."You said a few weeks ago that you were talking to a man here.How long will it be before you become a part of his life and give up your own?"
Her mother flinched at her sharp words, and she felt a rush of regret, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize.
"You don't pull punches, Isabella.You are a strong woman, much stronger than I ever was.You won't lose yourself, and I'm glad about that.The man I was talking to is an old friend.His name is Stefano.A mutual friend told Stefano I was here, and he called me.We're planning to have dinner together this weekend.But it's not a date.It's just a catch up."
"It sounds like a date.He's single, isn't he?"
"He's divorced," her mother confirmed.
"So there's a chance dinner could be the beginning of a relationship."
"I don't believe so.He lives in Rome, and I live here.It's also been thirty years since we were together.And we were kids then.We're nothing like we used to be.I'm also not looking to get involved with anyone.I need to be on my own for a while.I know that."
