Everything We Keep: A Novel by Kerry Lonsdale Page B

that there’s no room in your future for frivolous activities.” She looked at me. “I’m guessing you gave him the paints?”
    I nodded, too intimidated not to.
    “It’s a sweet gesture, dear, but he can’t accept your gift. James, please return it or I’ll be forced to make you toss it in the trash.”
    “But—”
    “Are you arguing with me?”
    His gaze dropped to his feet. “No, ma’am.”
    I grabbed the box from James. I didn’t want his mom throwing it away.
    Mrs. Donato moved to the door. “Come inside and clean up. Change your clothes. They’re filthy. Hurry up!” she barked when James stalled, tossing me an apologetic look. “Your guests arrive in five minutes.”
    James practically ran into the house. My heart clenched over his disappointment. He really wanted the art supplies.
    “Go home, Aimee. You can see James tomorrow.”
    “Yes, Mrs. Donato,” I glumly replied. Tears burned and I swiped them away before they leaked.
    Carefully walking to the side gate, I held the box and balanced what I thought could be James’s one and only painting. His passion snuffed before any chance to glow. I tried working the gate latch, bumping the box around in my struggle. The lid popped open and dumped the contents.
    I sank to the ground and started picking up brushes and paints. A pair of loafers stopped by my hands. Phil lowered to his knees. He tossed a palette knife into the box.
    “Sorry about my mom.”
    I lifted my head. “Your mom?”
    He dropped his chin to his chest. “I mean Claire. She’s pretty much my mom because she’s all I got.”
    “Don’t you have a dad?”
    He nodded. “I don’t see him much. He works a lot. Anyway, in case you haven’t noticed, Claire wants James and Thomas working at my dad’s company when they grow up. James painting pictures isn’t part of her plan.”
    I looked at the scattered supplies, money I’d wasted. I should have bought the hat. “What am I supposed to do with all this?”
    Phil studied James’s bird and squirrel chase. “He’s pretty good. Maybe you can keep the stuff at your house and he can paint there. Claire and Edgar don’t have to know.” He zipped his lips and tossed aside an imaginary key. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
    I liked his idea.
    We shook hands and finished cleaning up. Phil handed me the box. “Hold it flat like this.” He laid the painting on top of the box. “Now you won’t drop it.”
    I slowly stood. “Thanks.”
    “I see why James likes you. You’re sweet.”
    I ducked my head, blushing.
    He opened the gate for me. “Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow.”
    I liked Phil. He didn’t come across as the bully James described. “Maybe,” I agreed.
    But I didn’t see Phil the next day, or any other day for several years. James always came to my house, more frequently than before since I let him keep his art supplies in my room. As his skills improved and he acquired more supplies, my parents cleared a space for him in the sunroom next to the kitchen. Over the years, while I helped Mom craft new recipes for the restaurant, James painted, and his talent and our friendship flourished.

CHAPTER 9
    The next day, I dressed in skinny jeans, a filmy blouse with thin straps, and heels for my birthday celebration. Kristen and Nadia were taking me to Chinese for dinner. Nadia hugged me hello when they arrived at my house. “I shouldn’t have bailed on you last night.”
    “Mr. Commercial Property Broker didn’t pass inspection?”
    “He was a dud.” She screwed up her face. “He made a pass at me.”
    I laughed. “That’s not good?”
    “Was he a lousy kisser?” Kristen asked. She’d moved into the main room and stood beside the dining table.
    Nadia rolled her eyes. “No and no,” she said to each of us. “He was good. Too good. He’s married.”
    Kristen looked up. “Ouch.”
    “Wasn’t he wearing a wedding band?” I spun my engagement ring.
    Nadia scowled. “No.”
    Kristen studied the paper she