Page 19 of Finding Forever

fourteen

RILEY

After dinner, I rinsed the soapsuds off a plate and handed it to Eric. “Was that better than your mac and cheese?”

“A lot better. I should have cooked something, but time has a habit of slipping away when I’m writing.”

“It’s the same with painting.”

Eric stacked the plate on top of the ones he had dried. “I saw some of your landscapes on the Internet. They’re incredible.”

I smiled at the softly spoken compliment. “Thanks. I always try to do something a little different with each canvas.”

“How long do they take to finish?”

“It depends on the size of the canvas and what I’m trying to achieve. If the painting has a lot of layers, it can take five or six months. Each layer needs to dry before the next one’s added. That’s why I work on multiple canvases at the same time. I once had five paintings all in various stages of work. That was a little crazy.”

“Some authors are the same. They’ll write one novel in the morning and another in the afternoon. I guess we all have to find a process that works for us.”

“Before I came here, my process wasn’t great,” I told Eric. “I used to think that shutting myself off from the world was the only way I could create my paintings. But I’ve turned over a new leaf and I’m trying something different.”

“How different?”

I grinned. “Life-changing different. I’m giving myself three days to lay the foundations for my paintings. I paint from seven in the morning until four in the afternoon. Unless I’m on a roll and then I’ll take extra time off the next day.”

“What made you want to change your painting process?”

“It wasn’t a process. It was desperation. I went to art school on a full scholarship. I knew I’d need to sell paintings right after I graduated if I wanted to eat. So I worked hard, slowly building my collection into something I could market. Even after I became well-known, I worked long hours. The last nine years have disappeared and, apart from a healthy bank account, I don’t have anything to show for it.”

“You don’t seem like the type of person who could lock himself away from the world.”

I handed Eric the last dish. “You can do anything if you have the right motivation.”

Eric’s gaze lingered on my face. “I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

“I lost track of what’s important. I was so caught up with being a commercial success that I didn’t spend time with the people I love.” I glanced at Eric, wondering if he’d understand the guilt I was carrying. “Until Mom and I left Sunrise Bay, we lived in the cottage with my grandparents. Even when I was at college, I used to spend each vacation here. When I moved to Europe, all that changed. I could have come home more often, but I didn’t.”

“You were building your career.”

I nodded, but it wasn’t as simple as that. “I told myself the same thing, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. Last year my grandparents died in a car accident. I’ll never get back the time I could have spent with them.” I took a deep breath and stared through the kitchen window. “Grandma and I used to sit on the veranda, talking about what’s happening in our lives. Granddad took me fishing and told me stories about the boats he’d seen on Willow Lake. They were wonderful people.”

“Your grandparents would have understood why you didn’t come home.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” I turned to Eric, half-afraid to tell him how selfish I’d been. “Instead of going to their funeral, I went to the opening of my exhibition in London. Afterward, I knew I’d made the wrong decision.”

“Is that why you’re here now?”

I hesitated before answering. “It’s part of it. This might sound strange, but I need to find the person I used to be. I was supposed to leave Venice in September, but the burglary brought my plans forward.”

“And I nearly derailed everything by renting the cottage.”

“It worked out okay,” I said softly.

“It did.” Eric folded the dishtowel and placed it on the counter. “If it’s any consolation, I can relate to what you’ve said. While I was working in the police force, my entire life centered around my job. When I met Mike, I never thought we’d be more than friends. But over time, our friendship grew into love.” He looked down at his hands. “In case you hadn’t realized, I’m gay. I was going to ask Mike to marry me.”

My eyes widened. I’d thought, even hoped, Eric was gay. But the enormity of what he’d lost far outweighed anything I felt. “I’m sorry. That must have been a horrible time.”

“Not as horrible as realizing how isolated I’d become. After Mike’s funeral, I took six months off work. I needed to make some changes in my life.”