Chapter 18 #2
I’m not a big fan of princess art, but even I thought it was pretty cool.
Two enormous arched windows covered much of the wall.
Out of one window, you could see a drawbridge and people on horses crossing it, with mountains and a village in the distance.
The other window revealed a tower covered with a pink-blooming vine.
“I thought these windows would be on either side of the beds,” Hope said.
“Awesome,” Sophie murmured. Zoey, usually the critic, nodded in agreement.
“And I thought we might make little canopies for each bed coming out from the wall.”
Hope flipped the page in her sketchbook and showed a drawing of the same windows, this time with the twin beds, each topped with little partial canopies.
The girls gasped.
“What would the canopies be made of?” I asked.
“Fabric, plant hangers, and curtain rods,” she said. “I made one for my first apartment.”
“Would you make them, or would we need to find someone to sew?” I asked.
“Oh, I can do it. Gran taught me how.” She grinned at the girls. “So what do you think?”
Zoey clasped her hands. “It’s splendid-did.”
I looked at Hope and saw her stifling a laugh. It felt good, enjoying a silent, isn’t-she-adorable moment with her.
“What about the other walls?” Sophie asked.
“Good question.” Hope motioned to the dormer window with the built-in window seat.
“This wall really just needs drapes and a cushion to match the canopies. We’d paint the wall to look like stone, so it would feel like we’re inside a castle room.
We’d do the same on this wall over here .
. .” She motioned to their bureaus. “And I thought we might also paint a tapestry on it.” She flipped her sketchbook to another page. “Like this.”
“Oooh,” Sophie breathed.
Hope motioned to the wall with the closet. “Over here, all we need to do is the stone treatment over, between, and around the doors.” She showed another sketch.
The girls oohed, aahed, and jumped up and down.
“This is really nice, but I thought we were just doing a mural on one wall.” Last thing I needed was for her to get halfway finished, then leave town. “I’m sure you have your hands full with your grandmother, and this seems like a lot of work.”
She waved her hand. “The whole thing will probably take me about three weeks.”
Sounded like a Pollyanna-ish time estimate to me. “That’s all? Are you sure?”
“I work fast.” She looked down, her expression almost embarrassed. “Too fast to be a serious artist, I’ve been told.”
I wondered who’d told her that. “Sounds like an asset to me.”
“I can’t wait!” Sophie said.
Zoey nodded.
“Has Peggy seen this?” I asked.
Hope’s curls bobbed on her shoulders. “She came over to Gran’s and I showed her. She approved the sketch as well as the estimate. She said she’s paying.”
“Peggy is not paying.” Peggy had promised the girls a real princess room when we moved to Wedding Tree, but I had no intention of letting her pick up the tab.
“Well, that’s something the two of you will have to work out. Here’s the estimate.” Hope handed me a professional-looking bid form.
I looked it over. It was less than what I’d been willing to pay the artist from New Orleans, minus the travel expenses.
“Looks good. When do we start?”
“As soon as you’d like. If we use the current color as the base, I can just start sketching directly onto the walls.”
“Yes!” yelled Sophie, throwing up her arms.
“Let’s start now!” said Zoey.
“Do we need to do anything to prep the room?” I asked.
“Not just yet. Having the furniture in place will be a help while I’m sketching. Once I start actually painting, though, we’ll need to pull the furniture out of the way, cover the floor, and move the girls to another bedroom until the project’s finished.”
“No problem.”
“Can I help? I can paint!” Zoey said. “I painted some pictures at school today.”
“Me, too,” chimed in Sophie. “Wanna see?”
Hope grinned at them. “I’d love to see your artwork. And, yes—once I get it all sketched out, you can both help.”
They jumped up and down and shrieked so loudly I was tempted to cover my ears. Then they thundered downstairs to gather up their art collection.
Silence hung between us for a moment, the kind of charged silence that comes from being alone with someone you find attractive. “They’re excited.”
“I can tell.” Hope’s smile transformed her from pretty to dazzling. “They’re adorable.”
Another charged silence electrified the air. “So . . . did your grandmother tell you anything about the man in the photos?”
She nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a wildly romantic tale, but . . . well, I’m afraid of where it’s all leading.”
“Now you have me intrigued.”
“What’s intriguing?”
I started at the sound of Jillian’s voice in the hallway. I hadn’t heard her come in; she must have let herself in the back door with her key. I felt oddly guilty, as if I’d been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to do, and the feeling rankled.
“What’s intriguing?” Jillian repeated.
None of your business. I squelched down my irritation and forced a tone of nonchalance. “Oh—just some things Miss Addie is telling Hope about the past.”
“How interesting.” Jillian looked from my face to Hope’s. Now Hope felt on the spot. My irritation mounted.
“I wasn’t expecting you tonight, Jillian.”
“I finished with the school meeting early and thought I’d drop in to see if you and the girls were all right.”
“We’re fine.” The words came out curter than I’d intended.
I knew she meant well, but damn it, it was just too invasive, her walking right into my home without ringing the bell, just assuming she was welcome.
I mean, I’m grateful for the way she watches out for the girls and all that she does around the house, but there needed to be some limits.
I felt my jaw tighten into what Christine used to call my Mount Rushmore face—the one she said was stony and cold. “It was nice of you to stop by.”
The color drained from Jillian’s cheeks. She visibly swallowed. “I—I didn’t mean to intrude.”
The thunder of feet rumbled again on the back stairs, and the girls burst into the room. “Aunt Jillian!” Zoey made a beeline to hug Jillian. Sophie followed suit. “Come see what Hope’s gonna do to our walls! An’ look at the pictures we drew today!”
“I—I’m sorry, girls, but I think I need to go,” Jillian said, stepping back.
“Why? You just got here!”
“Yeah. Don’ you want to see my pictures?” Sophie echoed.
Jillian put her hand on Sophie’s hair. “Of course I do, sweetheart, but I don’t want to intrude.”
Zoey looked at him quizzically. “You’re not ’truding. Right, Dad?”
Oh, for God’s sake. I ran a hand down my face and blew out a hot breath. “Of course not. I wasn’t expecting you, Jillian, that’s all.”
Sophie tugged at Hope’s hand. “Show Jillian the sketches, Hope!”
Hope complied. I stood there in the doorway, all too aware of the way Jillian’s presence had completely changed the dynamics, disliking both the interruption and my reaction to it.
Hell. I wasn’t all that happy about my reaction to Hope, either. She was a distraction I probably didn’t need right now—especially since she was going to be here every evening for the next few weeks. If I knew what was good for me and the girls, I’d keep my distance.
My phone rang. It was an assistant working on an important brief. Excusing myself, I went downstairs to my office, glad of the excuse to escape.