Jayden had his arms wrapped around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. I’d thought he was the one. I’d thought we were going to get married and have a family. Tyler wouldn’t have been the only grandchild.
I closed my picture app so I didn’t have to see his blue eyes and cocky smile. What on earth was I doing at a job interview an ocean away from my home? Was I running away from Jayden? Perhaps I didn’t have a clear direction in life.
Just as I seriously considered bailing, a middle-aged woman walked out from a closed door with a kind smile.
“Ms. Summers?”
“Yes.” I stood, focusing on the present.
“I’m Judy Jones. It’s nice to meet you.” She shook my hand. “Please, follow me to my office.”
“Honey, I’m home,” I belted as I entered Abby’s house.
“Auntie Kate.” Tyler charged across the room and grabbed my waist in a hug. “Look at our house. Did you see all the Christmas stuff?” He pointed out the Santa Claus and reindeer trinkets. “Did you see the door? It looks like a present. Mom said you did it.” He tugged at the red ribbon as if he might be able to open it after all.
I snickered, loving the joy on his face. At first, I’d debated waiting for them to decorate the house, but now I knew I made the right decision. “Do you like it?”
“I love it. Thank you.” He squeezed me tighter. “It’s so cool. It feels like Christmas, finally.”
I relished the warm tug in my heart. “Good. That makes me happy.” I kissed his forehead and stroked his back. “Hey, Ty. How was your day?”
“Good until Bridget went home. She got a fever.” Tyler touched his forehead and frowned.
I kicked off my shoes by the door as I inhaled the scent of the plumeria inside the glass bowl. It was soon replaced by the aroma of miso salmon the further I walked into the house.
“Bridget is ...?” I took his hand and followed the delicious smell to the kitchen.
“Bridget is my friend from school.” Tyler hiked himself up on the stool.
A bottle of red wine and two filled glasses were on the granite counter. I peeked into the oven and watched as Abby broke apart butter lettuce with her hands.
“Don’t worry about Bridget, Ty,” I said. “All she needs is medicine and a good sleep. She’ll be fine. I promise. You’ve been sick before, right?”
“Yes.” He arched his eyebrows as he tilted his head. He looked confused, but brushed it off. “Mom, when’s dinner? I’m hungry,” he said with a whine.
Abby stopped arranging the salad on the plates and furrowed her brow. “Excuse me, young man. Is that how you ask for dinner?”
Tyler dipped his head. “No. Sorry. When’s dinner, please?” He flashed all his teeth with an exaggerated grin.
Abby perked her lips, trying not to laugh. “Much better. How about you help me put the salad plates on the table?”
“Okay.” Tyler hopped off the stool, and Kate handed him the plates from the counter. He shuffled away holding himself stiffly as if his task was vitally important.
Abby picked up the tray of baked salmon from the stove and then faced me, holding out the platter. “Your turn. Put this on the table. And ... how was your interview?”
“Fine,” I said quickly and headed to the dining table to avoid the topic.
“Did they say anything after the interview?” Abby sat across from me and handed me a glass of wine. She then scooped up a piece of salmon and placed it on Tyler’s plate. Absent-mindedly she cut his fish into bites with her fork.
I took a bite of my fish and hummed. “Yummy. You make the best miso salmon.”
“Don’t change the subject, Kate.”
I poked my fork in the air toward her and narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t. And my interview ... It went well, but ...” I cringed.
She stilled, her fork stabbed into a cucumber. “But ...”
I released a frustrated sigh. “She said I was over-qualified.”
“What do you mean over-qualified?” She knew what I meant. It was a rhetorical question. “Maybe start off doing simple things and then she can change your job description as she gives you more responsibility?”
She hoped I would get a job so I would stay, but what she was suggesting was ridiculous.
“She won’t be able to pay me the same salary or even close to it.”
“Oh.” Her tone pitched lower. “I guess it’s a no then.”
I took a big bite of salad. “I have another interview tomorrow. Maybe it’ll be better.”
Her eyes lit up. “Okay. Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.” I took a sip of my wine and savored the light, fruity taste. “How was your day? Did you sell any paintings?”
Abby scooted her lettuce to the side of the plate, her attention elsewhere, and then met my gaze. “No, but we had a few customers stopping by—mostly tourists. They loved the paintings, but either they didn’t want to pay for shipping or it was too expensive. Maybe I should have a sale.”
“No.” I winced and lowered my voice. “People don’t understand the time, sweat, and passion you pour on the canvas. You’re not a student. You’ve had your work displayed in well-known New York galleries. You are worth every penny, Abby. Don’t sell yourself short. If they don’t want to pay the price, then too bad for them. They don’t deserve a piece of your soul.”
At least that was how I felt after I finished a painting, like I had given a slice of my soul. Every stroke of the brush was a glimpse of my thoughts, hopes, and dreams. All that time and energy spent, I fell in love with all my creations and hated selling them.
My sister chewed her bottom lip, taking in my words. “Okay, Kate. You’re right. Thank you for the reminder.”
“You’ve sold many paintings in New York and your prices were pretty high, competitive to others of your caliber. Don’t downgrade yourself.”
“Okay. I get it.” She sighed and smiled at her son sitting next to me.
Her love. Her life. Everything she did was for him. I could only imagine how difficult it must be to raise a child by herself. All the more reason I should try to help her in any way, including financially.
Tyler rested his chin on his knuckles, his elbow planted on the table. With his other hand, he flicked the salmon with his fork.
“Ty. You okay?” I asked.
He had been quiet during dinner and wasn’t listening to the conversation like he usually did.
“Is Bridget going to be okay?” Tyler’s lips curled downward, his shoulders slumping.
“Bridget is going to be fine. You’ll see.” I rubbed Tyler’s hair. “How about after dinner we decorate the tree?”
“Okay.” He sat up taller and began to eat again.
I cleared my throat to get Abby’s attention. My sister was staring at the two red stockings hanging on the mantel. She must be thinking about the one that should have been there. Her glassy eyes made mine fill with tears. When she shifted her attention to me, her lips spread—only a little, but a smile nevertheless.
“Kate, thanks again for brightening up this house.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I don’t think I could have done it.”