Page 121 of Someday You Learn

“Hey, watch it, young lady. I’m still your father,” he grumbles, though a smile pulls at his lips.

Laughing, I make it to the bottom of the staircase just as Dad flips on a light switch. The moment the room comes into view, I gasp. “Oh my God.”

“This is what I was coming down to see when I fell that day, June Bug.”

Rows of canvases line the walls, stacked neatly on top of each other. I know who the artist is before I even take a look.

“Did she paintallof these?” My voice cracks as my eyes move at lightning speed.

My father nods. “Yep. She had most of them in storage before she passed, and when I moved to Carrington Cove, I forgot about them. A couple of years later, I got a call from the storage unit in Florida saying the bill hadn’t been paid and they were going to auction it off. I knew what was in there, so I drove down immediately and brought them back here.”

I move around the room, looking at every painting my mother kept over the years, ones I’m sure she wanted to sell or keep for herself instead. Memories flood my mind of watching her at work, and even those times when she would set up a canvas next to her for me to paint right alongside her.

“I come down here when I want to be close to her, June. She was so talented, so beautiful and carefree. So wise and funny,” my father says, emotion clogging his throat. “You remind me of her so much, and I think she’d want you to have these. I think they would look beautiful in your gallery.”

I move toward my father and envelop him in my arms. “I think so too.”

“You can sell them or put them on display, whatever you choose.”

“There’s so many of them. There’s no way I can take them all today,” I say as I lean back a bit, but he keeps me tucked into his side.

“I know, but I imagined we could take a chunk back with us tonight and start figuring out where to go from there. No rush, sweetie.”

“I still can’t believe this.” My skin is covered in goosebumps, almost like I can feel my mother with us at this very moment.

“I miss her so much, June, but my biggest regret is how I’ve treated you since she passed. I’m so sorry that you were the object of my grief when I didn’t know what to do with it,” he croaks out as I feel his tears hit my shoulder.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. But I’ll do better. I promise you that.”

And right there, in my father’s basement with my mother surrounding us, the two of us begin to heal in ways we both desperately needed.

Chapter twenty-four

Parker

The sound of the key turning in the lock pulls me from my sweeping. I’ve been trying to clean up as much as I could while Robert took Cashlynn back to his house to show her her mother’s paintings.

Our eyes meet as she walks inside the gallery, Robert trailing behind her.

“What are you doing?”

My eyes drop down to the broom in my hand, my shirt sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up. “I’m sweeping.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says as she crosses the room to me.

“I know I didn’t, but I was trying to make myself useful.” I place a chaste kiss on her lips as soon as she’s close enough, and then look up to find Robert carrying two canvases, one in each hand. “Robert,” I greet him with a nod.

“Parker,” he says before turning back to his daughter. “Where do you want me to put these, June?”

“In the storage room for now.” She leads him back there as I finish cleaning up the pile of dirt I created and discard it in the trash. When they return, Robert asks me to help him unload the other paintings from his car, so I follow him outside.

“So, how’d it go?” I ask once we’re alone.

He blows out a breath. “Well, I know what matters now is that my actions back up my words, and I’m going to do everything I can to right my wrongs with my daughter.”

I nod in approval. “You’re a good man, Robert.”

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