“I guess I missed that memo.” She rolled her eyes at me. “And we’re not joined at the hip.”
“Yes you are. It’s disgusting.” I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re as bad as the other two.”
“Gee, are you jealous?” She stood up and made anime eyes at me. “Feeling wonewy?”
“Shuddup.” I laughed. I was not lonely. Nope. And if I was, it was because I liked it that way.
“Why are you out here then?” She pointed at my bare chest. “Trying to impress the ducks?”
“Har, har.” I bent down to retie my shoe. “Just needed some fresh air.”
“Rough night?” Her eyes took on a sad glint. She was one of the only people who knew about my nightmares.
I shrugged. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if it was the nightmare or Meredith’s face that I needed to run out of my system.
“Are we going to run or what?” I asked.
“See if you can keep up.” She took off and I followed. Actually, it was nice to spend a little time with one of my siblings without their “other half” being around. Not that I was jealous. As much as it pained me to admit it, I missed them.
There was no talking on the run, just the sound of the wind in the trees, the soft tweets of birds, and the lapping of the water along the lake. It was exactly what I needed. Well, it would be if my brain would shut the fuck up.
Apparently I had lost my balls overnight, because all I could do was worry. Worry about Meredith dealing with her father. Worry about Marty not having his great-grandfather to go fishing with. Worry about the way that stubborn woman made me feel. I was going to have a period any minute.
We rounded the corner and the sun glinted off the lake in a bright array of colors. It had been a while since I had worked a landscape painting. Lately I had been working on portraits. The nitty-gritty of real life, the beauty in the normal and real. It was part of a project I had started to counter all the stereotyping done in media. The touched-up pictures of movie stars, the airbrushed images of cover models. I wanted for people to see the beauty of the here and now, not how things could be better.
But maybe a landscape would be a nice change. Something rough, with a palette knife instead of the smooth stroke of a brush. It would capture the choppiness of the water much better.
By the time we made it back to the house, my muscles were burning. That good burn that meant they’d been used after a hiatus. I’d been wearing a suit and doing family duties too much lately. It was starting to mess with my head. No wonder I’d had that dream about Dad again. My mind felt less cluttered as well. I was already plotting out where I would set up my easel and the colors I would need.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Cathy sat down on a stone bench and took a swig of water from the bottle she had left behind.
“What would I want to talk about?” I walked around the clearing, my hands on top of my head.
“How did the opening in London go?” She put her hands on her knees. “I saw the portrait you did of Mom. It was amazing.”
“Thanks.” I sat down next to her and grabbed her water bottle. “I was surprised she let me do it.”
“Why?”
“Most portraits of the crown are pretty, perfect pictures of them in their full regalia.” I shrugged. “She didn’t even blink an eye when I told her to wear regular clothes.”
“You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen her in a T-shirt and jeans.” Cathy laughed. “I didn’t even know she owned jeans.”
“I saw her wear them once when I was little. It was before she was pregnant with you.” I shrugged. “I think we were playing at a park.”
“Did it go over well at the opening?” Cathy took the bottle back from me and took a sip. “Were people shocked?”
“That’s the fun part. People either walked right by her, not a clue who she was, or knew immediately that they were looking at the Queen of Lilaria.” Mother was the only family member I had included in the show. The rest of the people were models, homeless people, rich bankers, students from the local schools.
“So people just assumed she was another model?”
“A banker asked if she was married.”
Cathy burst out laughing. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m not. He had no idea who she was. One of the London bankers I used as a model.” I laughed along with her.
“Did you tell him?” She looked at me with her big blue eyes.
“I told him she was a widow.” I grinned.
“I wonder if he ever figured it out.” She leaned back.