Page 33 of Miles & Mistletoe

The basement was different than the previous three floors. It wasn’t decorated in a rustic, woodsy style. The basement was unfinished with its cement floors and walls. However, the walls were lined with a number of clay pots, plates, bowls, vases, and more. All varying in shapes, sizes, and colors. I found myself drawn to the brightly colored vases that sat on the middle shelf at the far right of the basement. When I finally turned to see where Ian was, I noticed he was peering at me as he stood in front of something.

“What’s that?” I questioned, moving closer to him at the center of the basement.

Slowly, Ian moved to the side, allowing me to see the well-used pottery wheel. My eyes widened as I looked from the wheel to Ian and then to the various pots and vases that surrounded us. I also noticed, for the first time, an area even farther back that held an easel and painting supplies.

“You made all of these?”

Ian looked around as if examining his own work for the first time. Or, perhaps, seeing it through the eyes of someone new, for the first time.

“Yes.”

“These are beautiful, Ian,” I stated, honestly. “Can I?” I questioned as I moved toward another wall that held a variety of bowls.

I could see the uncertainty on his face but he nodded, granting me approval to take a closer look at his works. I marveled at the various bowls and pots that were so beautifully sculpted. I peered at the different designs that had been painted in an array of colors. My favorites were the paintings that featured outdoor scenery. I completely halted any movement when I spotted a particularly large plate that was sitting upright. The plate had been painted with a breathtaking scenery of what I presumed to be a scene from a movie. It featured snow-covered pine trees as children sled down a hill from a mountain top.

“Y-you painted this?” I questioned, my eyes still captivated by the stunning detail of the painting.

“You asked me that already,” Ian’s voice retorted just behind me.

My body naturally eased backwards into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around me.

“I know but … I had to ask again. These are breathtaking, Ian.” I spun around and cupped his handsome face in between my hands. I pulled his head down until our lips fused together. “You are so talented. You said you loved art and I could tell it was a passion of yours, but I never suspected all of this.” I waved my hand out, gesturing to the works surrounding us.

“It’s not something I advertise.”

“Why not? You’re so great at it. If I had talent like yours, I’d tell the world.”

“Not if you had my father,” he mumbled before attempting to walk away.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Are you ready to eat?” he asked, moving back toward the staircase.

“Hey,” I called, reaching for his hand.

He stopped and turned to me.

“What do you mean by that comment about your father?”

Ian sighed. “I told you what he said about friends, right?”

I nodded.

“So just imagine his response when his fourteen-year-old son tells him that he wanted to pursue a career in art.”

“I’d assume that conversation didn’t go over well.”

Ian huffed. “Damn near tried to take out my other eye.”

I gasped.

Ian smirked a little. “Not literally, but he came damn close. Either way, he quickly let me know that no son of his was going to waste his fucking life begging for handouts while waiting for his big break to come as an artist. He let me know my sole purpose in this life was to carry on the Zerlinger mantle. Along with my older brother, of course.”

The words flowed so freely from Ian—as if they didn’t hold any weight whatsoever—but I could see the line in his forehead as he talked, and the look in his eye, and the lowered tone of his voice. His father’s lack of support had taken something from Ian. Something that could never be replaced. But it hadn’t broken him.

I took one last look around the basement.

“But you still kept your passion alive.” Strangely, I felt proud of Ian for doing so in the face of such supreme opposition from the person who should’ve been encouraging him to follow his dreams.

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