Page 58 of Under the Northern Lights
They all laughed at that.
“Mine’s done,” Julia announced, holding hers up for everyone to see.
“You’re supposed to wait for the group’s collective reveal,” their mother said.
“Oopsy. I forgot.”
The only thing in his sister’s painting that resembled Gage, or his pose, was the black blobs meant to represent his fishing boots. The rest consisted of a stick figure with dark, slanted sunglasses that looked more like big, black alien eyes.
“I stood here for nearly a half hour for that?” Gage complained with a frown. Thankfully, he hadn’t had to hold the fish up the entire time.
“It’s not my fault Mom drew your name instead of Reed’s.”
Standing in that silly pose for what felt like hours made Gage incredibly thankful that he flew a floatplane for a living and was not a model.
“Aurora?” his mother said, reminding Gage that his brother wasn’t the only one who might not be finished painting him.
Gage sought out Aurora’s gaze, silently pleading with her to help set him free.
She smiled back at him and set her brush down on the paper towel his mother had placed next to every easel. “I’m good. More time isn’t going to make this painting any better.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sure it’s way better than you think it is,” his mother said supportively.
His father leaned over to peek at Aurora’s painting.
Gage watched his father’s thick, graying brows lift slowly upward. Then a twitch appeared at the corners of his mouth. He was battling the urge to grin for Aurora’s sake. “I can s-see the resemblance.”
“You can?” she said, sounding adorably delighted by his father’s comment.
“More than my painting of Gage,” he replied with a nod. “Reed clearly does not get his artistic ability from me.”
His mother tilted her head ever so slightly to study hers. “Judging by my painting,” she began, “I’m starting to think Reed was switched at birth.”
Julia snorted.
“Impossible,” Reed said defensively as he placed his paintbrush in the glass of water beside him. “At least, according to the DNA tests we all got last Christmas. And you’ll be happy to know that I’m done.”
Gage lowered his arm, letting the fish he was holding by its open mouth dangle at his side. He was thankful it was one of the smaller catches his mother had stored in their commercialfreezer for the amount of time he’d had to hold it up in the air above him.
“Okay,” his mother said, rising from her seat, “since everyone is finished, go ahead and turn your easels around so Gage can see your artistic renderings of him.”
Raucous laughter arose as the paintings of Gage were revealed.
“You all did such a wonderful job!” his mother said, clapping her hands together.
It sounded like she really meant it, but Gage couldn’t imagine how his mother thought they were anything close to wonderful. Creative? Yes. Realistic? No. His gaze traveled the length of the table where everyone was seated facing him, taking in all the paintings on display.
When he got to Aurora’s painting, his mouth pulled up into a wide grin. Although the details of his face were pretty abstract, what really caught his attention were the broad shoulders she’d painted on him.
Gage nodded. “Not bad.”
“I’m not so sure Emmy would share your opinion, but thanks,” she replied with an appreciative smile.
He continued down the table with his visual inspection, commenting on each of the paintings. It was kind of amusing, seeing everyone’s rendering of him. Gage’s perusal came to a dead stop when he got to the end and saw his brother’s work of art. Gage blinked, brows slowly lifting. “That isn’t a fish I’m holding. It’s a box of fish sticks.”
“I was supposed to draw what I saw when I looked at you standing there. You made me think about that guy on the fish stick commercial,” Reed admitted with an unabashed grin.
Aurora giggled.
