Millionaires' Destinies(186)

The wallpapering was going a whole lot more smoothly than the painting, Kathleen thought as she took a break for a soft drink and stood back to admire what they’d accomplished so far.

The walls were almost finished, but Ben and Destiny were having some serious artistic differences over whether there should be any sort of ogre in the fairytale scenes they were depicting on the ceiling.

“I want this child looking up at happy things,” Destiny said again, facing Ben with her hands on her slender, jeans-clad hips and a defiant expression on her face.

“But real life is not all happy,” Ben argued. “And there are ogres in fairy tales.”

“That is not something a brand-new baby needs to know,” Destiny argued heatedly. “Good grief, Ben, we’re not painting a morality play up there.”

“And you’re not going to be here to get the baby back to sleep when the nightmares start thanks to your ogre,” Melanie chimed in.

Destiny nodded her agreement, her gaze clashing with Ben’s. “Well?”

“Okay, okay, you win. No ogre. But do all the animals have to look happy?”

“Yes,” Destiny and Melanie told him in a chorus.

Kathleen grinned at him. “I think you’re overruled, pal. Give it up and get another cheery character in that corner. Peter Rabbit had a lot of pals for you to choose from. And I think this one ought to be a girl. Maybe Jemima Puddleduck,” she suggested. “She’s cute. That ceiling is surprisingly devoid of feminine characters. What kind of message will that send if Melanie has a girl?”

“It’s not some damn treatise on society,” Ben groused. “Where’s the damn Peter Rabbit book?”

Melanie chuckled and grinned at Kathleen. “He seems a bit testy.”

“I’m surrounded by women,” he retorted. “Strongminded, stubborn women. What the hell do you expect?”

“A better attitude and less cussing would be nice,” Destiny chided.

“Maybe another blueberry tart would help,” Kathleen said. “I think there’s one left.”

Ben’s scowl faded at once. “Really?” he said so eagerly that all three women laughed.

Kathleen shook her head. “It’s a good thing I woke up early and had time to bake this morning.”

He dropped a kiss on her lips as he passed by. “A very good thing,” he agreed. “Otherwise, I might have to lock all of you out of here and paint footballs and baseball bats on the ceiling just to keep my male identity intact.”

“If it’s a boy, you can do that when he’s six,” Melanie offered consolingly.

“Six?” Ben scoffed. “Four at the latest. Otherwise he’ll be scarred for life by all these happy characters. A boy needs guy stuff.” His expression suddenly turned nostalgic and he looked at Destiny. “You painted my walls with all sorts of sports stuff when you came to live with us, didn’t you? I just remembered that.”

“I thought the room needed a little personality,” Destiny told him. “Richard was perfectly content with that sterile room of his, and Mack already had his walls covered with posters, but your room was a blank canvas just waiting for some attention.” She grinned at him, then turned to Kathleen. “Not that it lasted long. Within a year or so, he painted over it and filled it with all sorts of jungle creatures. I had to take him to the zoo in Washington at least once a week to take snapshots, so he’d have the real animals for inspiration when he painted.”

“They weren’t half-bad, given they were done by a kid,” Ben said thoughtfully.

Kathleen wished she’d had a chance to see his early work. She couldn’t help wondering if the promise had been there even back then. “I suppose they’re long since painted over.”

Destiny gave her a smug look. “Not exactly.”

Clearly startled, Ben stared at her. “What on earth do you mean? Those paintings are long gone. I slept in that room last night and the walls are plain white.”

“Those walls are,” Destiny agreed.

Ben’s gaze narrowed. “Meaning?”

“Oh, stop scowling at me like that. It’s nothing dire. Rather than painting, I had a contractor come in and replace the wallboard. The original panels are stored in the basement.”

“You’re kidding me,” Ben said. “Why would you do something like that?”

“Because I’ve always known you’d be famous someday, and I know how early paintings can add to a gallery’s retrospective of an artist’s work,” she said without apology.

“Could I see them?” Kathleen pleaded.