Chapter 30

THIRTY

Saylor

The art classes are going better than I imagined.

In fact, the kids are doing so well I make an impromptu decision to do a show for them to display their work. It will be a big deal, with punch and snacks and music. I even offer to allow them to come into the gallery on Saturdays to spend extra time finishing their work.

Each of them has completed at least two pieces, except for Ally, who's only done one. She only likes drawing and hasn't really embraced any of the other mediums. I've gently tried to encourage her to at least try the watercolors, but she's easily frustrated and doesn't seem keen on taking advice from me, no matter what the topic is.

"This is really good, Katie," I tell one of the older girls in the class. She's talented, and loves working with watercolors, but she's done an excellent job with oil too. I'm hoping she'll take more classes from me, though I haven't decided when or if I even want to start another session.

I have a lot going on, and I'll be busy for the next month or so.

"Saylor, are you going to sell our paintings?" Katie asks.

"If you want to put a price tag on it, you're welcome to, but I thought it would be more fun to just show them to everyone."

"Like who?" Ally asks. "Their parents? I mean, what else are they going to say but that they're great? Parents lie."

"Most parents don't lie," I say patiently, "although they sometimes tell half-truths because there are certain things that are difficult to explain."

"They lie about Santa Claus," Ally says stubbornly.

"That's different," I reply, hoping none of the kids still believe. "That's a fun lie, something to make you happy."

"And that's why they'll lie about these paintings," Ally says, shrugging. "To make everyone happy. It's still a lie."

"They're not really good, are they?" Another student, Kelsey, asks sadly.

"They're wonderful," I say firmly. "If they weren't, I wouldn't have suggested doing a show. The reason I came up with the idea is because they're so good and you've all impressed me so much."

The only boy in the class, Tony, shakes his head. "Who cares if they're good? We're here to have fun. It's better than being at home listening to my parents fight."

"My parents won't come to the show," Kelsey says, "because they're never home. My nanny will, though."

"We'll try to find a date that works for everyone," I say. "All right, it's getting late. Finish up what you're working on and then start cleaning up."

Ally gets up and closes the sketch pad she's been using.

"Why don't you take it with you and work on it at home?" I suggest. "You still have time to finish a few extra pieces before the show? We can frame yours and put them in a set. Maybe we can?—"

"I'm not doing any more," she says, tossing the pad to the side. "I don't want to do the show either. It's stupid. Nobody cares about kids' art."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, but of course, you don't have to if you don't want to. It's a shame, though. Your drawing of the unicorn is beautiful." I turn and walk over to help Katie clean her brushes.

"She's so grumpy all the time," Katie mutters.

"Her mom died not that long ago," I say softly. "She's sad. Don't be too hard on her."

Katie glances over her shoulder. "She goes to my school. She doesn't have any friends, sits by herself at lunch. I feel bad for her, but she's not very friendly."

"Oh." That isn't what I've heard from Canyon. He thinks things are getting better. "Well, maybe you could sit with her sometimes. Even if she says she doesn't want you to. You're older, you know?"

Katie nods. "Yeah, I can do that. I'd be really sad if my mom died."

"Thank you. That's very sweet."

I make a mental note to mention this conversation to Canyon, but he's on a road trip and has a game tonight.

Some of the parents have arrived to pick up the kids, and I see Marjorie come in.

"Allison, are you ready?" The older woman is definitely a little on the strict side, but Canyon thinks that might be good for Ally. Personally, I don't like her, but it's not my place to say so.

"I'm ready." Ally grabs her backpack, ignoring me.

"Say good night, Allison," Marjorie admonishes her.

Ally rolls her eyes but lifts her hand in a bored wave. "Bye!" she calls over her shoulder as they file out.

"Do I have to sit with her at lunch?" Katie stage whispers.

"Well, you can try," I say. "I won't blame you if it doesn't work out."

We finish cleaning up and the kids leave, one by one, until I'm alone.

Well, I know Rage is in the back, doing something on his computer.

He's taken it upon himself to be here on Wednesday and Thursday nights because he doesn't want me here alone. Once again, there had been no fingerprints, and whoever it was had managed to keep their face hidden from my video cameras. It's frustrating to me, and to Rage as well, who I know is worried about me. I've downplayed it to everyone, even my girlfriends, because I don't want anyone else to worry.

I've never been good at being needy.

I like to think of myself as strong and independent.

I've been on my own a long time and have been lucky enough to make the kind of money that affords me the freedom to do anything I want.

Except now I'm looking over my shoulder, planning my days so I'm never alone anywhere except at home, and trying desperately to pretend that everything is okay. It's begun to impact my sleep, which isn't sustainable. At some point, something's going to give. Hopefully, it won't be me.

* * *

With Canyon out of town for a few days, I do nothing but stay home and paint. Rage has ramped up security both at home and at the gallery, but I feel safest at home. It's a bright, busy neighborhood with lots of kids and cars coming and going all the time. I also have Joel and Gina next door, even though they haven't been overly friendly since the leak situation. I took two hundred dollars off next month's rent, which will hopefully soften them up a little, but I'm seriously considering either getting rid of them, or moving out myself.

I don't know what's going to happen with Canyon, but either we're going to move in together at the end of this year or I'm going to sell the duplex and buy something outright where I don't have to be a landlord.

It's been a great situation short-term, but going forward I don't want to deal with it. I've done some number crunching, and I can get a modest house that fits my needs without having tenants. If Canyon and I buy something together, then all bets are off because my house is paid off and worth more than two million dollars. I don't know exactly what Canyon's financial situation is, but he mentioned saving for a house, so that puts us in great shape.

Assuming he's serious about living together.

I'm in love with him, but there's a part of me that's still holding back. My gut tells me Ally isn't going to make things easy for us, and I know Canyon is dealing with guilt about his sister and a lot of other emotions.

I understand it, and I respect him for stepping up, but I don't know where it leaves me. This relationship is still new, and he's never been in love before, which means he's never been in a relationship like this before.

Maybe I'm being selfish, but I want him all to myself. Sharing him with hockey is bad enough, but adding a child to the mix has been frustrating. I can't sleep at his place right now because we both feel it will make Ally uncomfortable. He rarely has the time to sleep over at my house between hockey and other commitments, and frankly, afternoon quickies while Ally's at school don't sit well with me.

The first time was exciting.

The second time was a nice distraction.

But once it became the only time we can be together, it leaves me feeling out of sorts.

So I'm really looking forward to having some uninterrupted time with him in New York. Yes, I'll be working but he'll be with me before and after the show, and then we get to sleep in the same bed together. It sounds silly, but there's an intimacy to going to sleep and waking up together that I crave.

Especially with everything going on in my life.

I want to let myself fall.

I want to let myself be blindly in love, like I'm a teenager again.

But I can't because Canyon has the power to hurt me like no one else.

Because I love him like I've never loved anyone else.

Keeping the reins on my heart is becoming impossible, and I feel like we have to talk about it sooner rather than later. Mostly, we have to talk about Ally. I'm okay with him putting her needs first for now, but there has to be some compromise.

Otherwise, what's the point of being in a relationship?

The truth of the matter is, I'm not and never will be anyone's afterthought. I've always promised myself I wouldn't get involved with a man who didn't treat me the way I want and deserve to be treated. For now, I can deal with what we're doing, but there has to be an end date. At least, in general. We can give her through the summer. Maybe until Christmas. There has to be progress, though, because it's not fair for me to put my life on hold until she decides she's okay with me being the woman in her uncle's life.

I started a new painting yesterday, and it's of Ally's mom. I asked Canyon if he had any pictures of his sister, and he showed me one of her and Ally when Ally was about a year old. I took a picture of it with my phone and now I'm re-creating it in watercolors. Normally, I paint in dark colors, with one area of brightness, whether it's the color of someone's eyes or a light in a window.

For this one, I'm doing the opposite. It's all done in light pastels, swirls of pale pink, purple, and blue, but their eyes will be done in gold. I haven't figured out exactly how I want it to look, so I've been practicing on another canvas, trying different looks. My thought is to give it to Canyon for Christmas, but I've also been thinking I could gift it to Ally. Her birthday is coming up, and that might be a way to break the ice between us.

I can't talk to Canyon about it because I don't know which of them I want to give it to, so I make a note in my phone to ask Stevie about it.

I've just gotten up to make myself some lunch when the doorbell rings.

I pull up the video feed on my phone and see a FedEx driver.

I'm not expecting any packages, but it could be anything.

"Good afternoon," I say, opening the door.

"Here you go." He asks me to sign something and hands me a medium-sized box. "Have a nice day."

"You too." I close the door and carry the box to the kitchen. Using a nearby knife, I slice through the tape and pull out some filling.

Then I gasp.

At the bottom of the box is a bouquet of dead, black roses with a note.

YOU'RE NEXT.