Art is about the freedom to create anything you have ever imagined. The colors, the shapes, the emotion; there’s something to be said for getting emotions out onto paper, whether it be with a paintbrush or your fingers. Every brush stroke and fingerprint has a story to tell, and I want to convey that to kids.
“Oh,” is all I manage to say back.
“She’ll take it,” Mom butts in.
I turn toward her, my mouth open in shock. “But—”
“No buts, she’ll take it,” she says, grabbing Claire by the arm and talking numbers with her as they walk back down the stairs.
I follow them down after taking one last look at the room. I’ve never had a personal studio before, but this place is beautiful, right down to every shabby brick. I can’t wait to paint my first masterpiece in here.
“That’s great, I will have the papers drawn up, ready for you to stop by the office and sign within the next few days hopefully.” She smiles wide, shaking both of our hands before we all walk out of the property. “I’ll be in touch,” she says when we get to the bottom of the path.
The smile hasn’t left Mom’s face even when Claire has left. I turn toward her as we both climb into the car. “I can’t let you spend all of your savings on this.”
She scoffs. “Let me? Dear, I think you’re forgetting who the parent is here. And before you start thinking it’s some sort of charity, it’s not. I’ll be a silent partner, and I want to help out at the sessions every Saturday.”
I nod, agreeing to her terms but already working out how I can get the money back to her. “I’ll pay you every cent back when I get my half of the savings.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” she retorts in her no-nonsense tone and swivels around in her seat to face me. “I want to be involved in this part of your life, Harmony. You’ve been gone for the last seven years, I don’t want to miss anymore of it.” She stares at me for a beat. “It’s just sitting there collecting dust, what do I have to spend it on?”
Tears spring to my eyes and I lean over, wrapping her in my arms and feeling the love rush out of us both in waves. “I love you, Mom.”
“And I love you, Harmonica. It’s time for a new beginning.”
It’s been three weeks since we signed the papers for the lease, but we only received the keys yesterday morning. I was too excited to get started so I bought a can of pale yellow paint and started in the room only Mom and I will come in. I was at the studio until late last night painting what is going to be my office, so today I can hardly keep my eyes open.
My eyelids droop as I watch Mom varnishing the floor of what will be my personal studio, the rhythmic motion of it sending me into a daze.
“Harmony.” My eyes fly wide open and I stand up, shaking out my legs. “Don’t you have to leave soon?”
“I think I’ll leave now and drive leisurely.”
Nate called me three days ago and said they’d received the papers back from Gerry, but I already knew that from the phone call I’d received the week before.
“Adultery. Marriage breakdown. Verbal abuse. Are you fucking kidding me, Harmony?”
I’ve been expecting this phone call. “Gerry, I told you not to contact me. If you want to—”
“Damn it, Harm. You couldn’t have just said the marriage wasn’t working out?” His voice sounds exasperated.
“Why would I lie?”
“Verbal abuse? Verbal fucking abuse!” he shouts.
“Well, what would you have had me call it?” I will my voice not to shake, reminding me that I’m away from it all now.
“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters.
“So, you’re not going to sign them?” I ask hesitantly.
“I’ve got no freaking choice, have I? If I don’t, we’ll get dragged to a hearing,” he huffs. “I hate that I’m being made out to be the bad guy in all of this.”
I scoff. “Do you hate being made out to be the bad guy, or is it because you’re being reminded that you are the bad guy?”
I hear his heavy breathing over the line; a telltale sign that he’s beyond angry, and I wait for him to speak.
Two minutes pass before he sighs. “I’ll mail the papers in the morning, your attorney will have them in a couple of days.”