Out of everything they could’ve said, she never expected to hear that her mom had stayed in touch with her aunt. She took a deep breath and blinked back the threatening tears.
“I’m sorry. Did we say something wrong?” Olivia asked.
“No. I’m just surprised.”
Ryan rubbed her back reassuringly, calming her. “I didn’t know my mother and you communicated,” she said.
Olivia slid her husband a quick glance. “Oh, just a few letters here and there. But she and your aunt corresponded every week. I guess your mom isn’t big on technology and preferred old-fashioned pen and paper. No emails for her. Tina lived for getting those letters and pictures of you and your sister. Reina wanted to come visit, but the treatments for the cancer wiped Tina out and she didn’t want you to see her that way.”
All these years she’d blamed her mom for keeping them from the family. “My mother wanted to come to Michigan?”
Michael looked grim. “Yes. I offered to pay for you all to fly here but she wouldn’t go against your aunt’s wishes. Tina didn’t want you to grieve her.”
“I wish I would’ve known. My mother didn’t explain any of this to us.”
Olivia smiled. “If you’d like to come over one day, I could show you some of our family albums. I’ve got several pictures of your aunt. I even have pictures of you and Ryan playing together at Alexander and Tina’s wedding reception.”
Stunned, Portia checked Ryan’s reaction and found him equally surprised. “We’ve met?”
“Ryan talked about you for weeks after you left. Reina reassured him you’d come back for good one day. He waited by the door every night for a month until he gave up and threw his attention into his cute little art projects.”
Ryan stiffened. She couldn’t help herself from prodding Olivia for information. “Art projects?”
“He started sketching, and as he got older, he painted. He was very talented.” Olivia looked at her son lovingly. “I don’t know why you stopped such a wonderful hobby.”
“Maybe because I wanted it to be more than a hobby,” Ryan said tersely. His jaw tightened as his skin paled. “Will you excuse me?” Without a word, he walked away, leaving her with his parents.
They obviously had no idea how much art meant to their son, and neither had Portia. A shiver of awareness passed over her as she watched Ryan cross the dance floor. Was it possible she had inspired his art when they were children? She shook her head. She was beginning to sound like her mother. Yet in her dreams, he was an artist.
Olivia and Michael exchanged a look, then Olivia asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you and Ryan become reacquainted?”
She lost track of Ryan in the crowd and turned back to his parents. “Alexander left us his mansion in his Will on the condition we live together in it for three months. Tomorrow, George Pappas, Alexander’s attorney, will officially hand over the deed.”
Whether Ryan would allow her to stay in the house remained to be seen. She’d hoped he’d grown to love the mansion as much as she had these last few months. Otherwise, whatever they’d built between them would crumble into pieces much like the house’s walls when they’d first moved in.
Olivia shook her head. “Sounds like something my brother would cook up. He always did have a Zeus complex.”
Despite her worries, her lips tugged up in a smile. She’d heard of a God complex, but a Zeus complex was a new one. “I’m sorry, Ryan hasn’t said much about him.”
“Probably because Ryan feels a little guilty about the fire,” Olivia said.
Seizing the opportunity to learn more about what led to the family discord, Portia pretended to know more than she did. “You’re right. He does feel guilty.”
“He shouldn’t. He acted irresponsibly when he left Alexander alone to go see that girl, but it was an innocent mistake and we never blamed him,” Michael said, banding an arm around his wife’s waist.
Olivia burrowed into his side, an affectionate gesture which had Portia wondering if she and Ryan could one day be as close as his parents. “As a child, Ryan loved spending time at that mansion. In fact, I remember you two dancing in the ballroom together. You were teaching him the steps to Thriller. He adored you and I can see it in his eyes, he still does.”
She suddenly remembered. When she’d run out of the church, embarrassed about her shoes, he’d followed her and convinced her to come back in after complimenting her choice in footwear. He’d joked about how people spent so much money on shoes for weddings, but then couldn’t walk by the end of the day because of their blisters. After the reception, she’d tagged along with him when the family continued the celebration at the mansion. They’d spent hours dancing and drawing pictures in the ballroom.