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“That’s because I had one before Albright was Albright.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I was in middle and high school, I babysat her. She’s always been exceptionally talented and one of her favorite games was ‘art show’.”
“Art show?”
“She’d tape up her drawings all over the house, and we’d walk through and admire her work.” Avery shakes her head. “I once lost a bidding war to a teddy bear for one of her pieces.
“Then she grew up and got into art school. This was one of the first pieces that she won an award for at a show. She sent it to me as a thank you for being, and I quote, ‘one of the best babysitters in the whole wide world.’ Lyla has always been a sweet kid. I’m proud of the name she’s starting to make for herself.”
“Maybe you can put in a good word for me. I’d love to commission something from her, but she’s always booked up.”
“You don’t even say hello to me when you come in and you want me to help you get an in with one of the best local artists in town?”
“I apologize. That was rude.”
“It was, but I’ve heard worse from you recently,” she says coldly.
I deserved that, but it doesn’t make it sting any less.
“Avery, I didn’t mean for any?—”
She holds up a hand, and her glare dries up the words in my mouth.
“This isn’t the time.”
Her eyes flick to her son playing in the corner of the room. Shame fills me to the brim. I should have known better than to start that sort of conversation in front of a child, no matter how far across the room they were.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize where he was.”
She shrugs. “I can’t imagine it’s something you’re used to.”
Even though I know it wasn’t meant that way, the words hit me like a knife to the heart.
I never got a chance to get used to anything like that. Maybe if I’d been less selfish.
“Hey, Avery,” Wesley calls from her tiny little kitchen. “Do you think this Mac and Cheese is going to be too hot for Leo?”
“Hold on, I’m coming.”
A squeal erupts from the corner. “Mac a cheese!”
The little mite gets up from the rug and races toward the kitchen.
One glare from Avery has him skidding to a stop.
“No kitchen.” He nods sagely.
“Good choice. Thank you, Leo.” She smiles. “Why don’t you show Mr. Jamie your trucks while we get dinner ready? If that’s okay with Mr. Jamie, that is.”
I nod at her then turn to look at Leo. “I would love to see your trucks.”
You’d think I’d presented him with the Holy Grail from the look he’s giving me right now.
“Play rug, please,” he says.
I shoot a confused glance over at Avery.
