Page 106 of Beautiful Lies
“Connor’s not an idiot.”
Eden’s smile grew wide. “Ha! You’re defending him.”
I shrugged one shoulder and steered the conversation to her art. “Talk me through them,” I said, and listened to her description of each piece. We stopped in front of the final one. Two kids with dark hair and blue eyes, one a toddler, the other a few years older with his arm slung around the younger one’s shoulder. It was their smiles that captured me. They looked happy, their faces lit up with joy in a way I’d rarely seen from either of them. So young and innocent with no idea what their futures held in store.
Killian wrapped his arms around Eden from behind and studied the painting as if he’d never seen it before, although surely he must have. “I found the photos in a shoebox in Seamus’ closet when I cleaned out his house last year,” he said, by way of explanation.
“Do you think your mom took them?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I was surprised he’d kept them.”
“You were adorable.” He was. They both were. Unlike Connor, Killian had a matching set of dimples and Eden had captured them perfectly.
He snorted, but Eden agreed with me. “It’s a great painting,” I told her. “I love it.” I noticed the round orange sticker that indicated it had been sold. Disappointment punched me in the gut. I was the worst. The whole point of an exhibit was to sell the pieces, yet I didn’t want anyone to buy them. “Who bought it?”
“Keira.”
I was relieved that this painting would stay in the family. It seemed fitting that Keira bought it, a little piece of her brothers from a childhood she’d missed sharing with them. After listening to Connor’s story, I’d decided that I hated their mother. She was no better than their father. In some ways, what she’d done was even worse. But I kept it to myself out of respect for Keira.
“Your paintings look amazing in a gallery,” I said.
“Connor’s don’t look too shabby either,” Eden said.
“He did good,” Killian said, and I got the feeling he was talking about something more than the art.
“Ava.” I turned at the sound of my mother’s voice.
“Mom?” I looked past her to my dad, confused. I hadn’t spoken to her in three weeks, and I’d never told her about the exhibit. “What are you guys doing here? How did you even…”
She pressed her lips together. “Connor invited us.”
My brows shot up. “Connor invited you? Youtalkedto Connor?”
“Hello Killian,” she said, and my jaw dropped to the floor. What was going on here? I stood back as Killian greeted my parents and introduced them to Eden just as if this was the most natural thing in the world. Like they were old friends, catching up on each other’s lives. After the introductions and some small talk between my mom and Eden, Killian guided Eden away, leaving me alone with my parents.
“You look beautiful,” she said, taking in the dress and heels, not even commenting on the tattoo peeking out of the sleeve of my dress. She swept my hair over my shoulder. “Did you use the curling tongs I gave you?”
I nodded dumbly. I’d done my hair in soft waves just like she’d showed me. “You look like you belong on the red carpet.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said, giving her a little smile. “You look beautiful, too.”
“Oh well, I thought I should make an effort.” She smoothed a hand over her updo. It went with the black dress and pearls, a lot classier than my outfit. “It’s not every day my daughter is featured in an art exhibit. Although Bedford-Stuyvesant is not exactly…”
“Marie,” my dad warned.
She held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I come in peace. Cut me a break, would ya?”
I laughed. Sometimes my mom could be funny. “So how did this happen?”
“Connor paid us a visit and we talked.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised. “You talked? Why would he visit you?”
“Because he loves you,” she said simply. “I’m willing to meet you halfway, but I’d like an apology.” My mom lifted her chin and gave me that stubborn look I knew so well.
My dad’s eyes pleaded with me to comply with my mother’s wishes, so I wracked my brain for an apology that would sound sincere. “I’m sorry I ruined Thanksgiving dinner.” That part, at least, was true.
“There,” she said. “Now was that so hard?”
