“Hello Kitty is right there.” I pointed to a little white burning pile on the porch.
“Aha.”
The last painting was all white with only a small and a big hand merging fingers.
“A father and daughter bonding?” Bruce analyzed. “I think this is my favorite.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I like the simplicity. Holding hands and bonding holds such powerful healing; it’s the essence of what we do here.”
“Cia is planning to make six paintings in all.”
“Wonderful. When will the last be done?” Bruce asked.
“Before I leave.”
“Great; as I said, I would like to hang them in our dining room.”
I nodded, but the truth was that I would have liked to take the paintings with me. They were more personal than anything I’d ever painted before. But a promise was a promise, and I would just have to suck it up and be a big girl about it.