The Rosewood Diary Read online

  A tall painting stuck out behind the stacked paintings along the wall and Quin carefully looked at each one until she’d pulled the canvases forward that had been leaning against the taller one. It was a self-portrait, but not. She had skin paler than Quin had ever seen, and her hair was a deep purple, almost burgundy. She wore a strange black robe like a monk and at her side sat Duggy. The painting reminded her of an updated version of the Mona Lisa since Ryla had almost no expression. Behind her were the usual waves and seascape that were in the majority of Ryla’s paintings, but in deep roiling greens to make it appear like the original painting.

  Quin lifted it out from behind the other paintings, leaning it against the chair that sat near the one window. It was dark outside, but the chair was the only place not full of other paintings. She held the flashlight up like a spotlight to see the details clearer.

  It had to have been one of the last ones Ryla painted. The brushstrokes were mature, but not only that, her skin was so pale it had to have been done after her last bout of heart trouble. She’d probably painted it downstairs and asked Paxton to bring it up here. Quin glanced at the back of the painting to see if Ryla had named it. On the top corner, she’d stapled a card that said, Mona Sister, Solitary by the Ocean.

  “This belongs downstairs where everyone can see it.”

  “I agree.” Paxton’s voice came from the ladder. His head peeked up from the hole in the floor. “Need help getting it down?”

  “Sure…don’t you work?” She laughed, slightly startled that he’d come in and found her without her hearing. It seemed like he was there whenever she needed him lately.

  “I do, but my team works well together. We have some who only do night hours, some only day. I prefer the morning so I can have my evening to myself. I need the time to decompress.” He was up the ladder in a breath, then stood back a few paces and stared at the painting. “It’s good. Though I never saw her sit for it. She must have done it when I wasn’t here.”

  Maybe she’d assumed the date of the painting wrong. “When did she do these? I guess I assumed this one was from the last few months.”

  “Most of these that I recognize were done over the course of a day. She told me that with the breeze off the water, she could paint several layers all in a few hours because the sun and wind would dry them. But there are a lot that I don’t recognize. She brought them up here without help.”

  Quin touched the area of the waves near Ryla’s head on the painting. “She would have to be quite good, because if it dried too quickly, she would be stuck with whatever she’d already done. Watercolor can be a little more forgiving since you can add water once again, but she was using oils.

  “I don’t know if she did it because she really enjoyed it or because she wanted to feel a connection to you.”

  “Don’t say that.” Quin closed her eyes. “You have no idea how much it hurts that I put up a wall between us. I didn’t know. This whole time I was only looking to keep my parents and my life somewhat separate from this house and my childhood. My relationship with Ryla suffered because of that.” That was why Ryla had warned her about selfishness. For herself, she’d separated from everyone. She hadn’t considered what her choice would do to Ryla.

  He took the painting and slowly climbed down the ladder. Quin followed and then led him into the living room. “I’m going to need to have it framed, but I think I’ll put it here.” She took one of her own pieces down.

  “I could be wrong, and it’s your house… but I don’t think Ryla would want that. She loved that painting.” He scanned the living room, then pointed to a huge mirror above the fireplace. “But she hated that.”

  Quin glanced up at the gaudy mirror her mother had put there to make the room seem larger. All it ever did was force people to look at themselves when they visited. “You’re right. That is exactly where it should go.”

  “You want it gone right now? Even before you have that framed?” The side of his mouth crept up into a sardonic smile.

  “I do.” Now that the idea was suggested, she wanted it gone. As he headed for the garage to get the ladder, Quin went around the room and removed all the pictures she didn’t want anymore. Pictures and paintings that represented pain, even if they had been dear to Ryla. She made it all the way around the room and got to the picture at the dude ranch. Ryla loved that ranch, but she didn’t want to see her sister clutching at her chest all day with Quin ignoring what she’d gone through. It was too close to life. Too close to reality. She took the picture down.

  “I asked her about that one.” Paxton came back into the living room and set up the ladder in front of the huge mirror. “She said it was from a vacation you took as kids. You must have been…what…sixteen?”

  Ryla had been fifteen, Quin had been seventeen. The ranch had been the worst family vacation ever. She’d hated it from the moment they’d arrived and begged their parents to go home.

  “Something like that.” She felt Paxton had more to say and she wanted to know what it was, even if that something was going to hurt.

  “She said that was the best few weeks she ever had. If she could’ve had horses here, she would’ve. Good thing for you, Duggy was the best she could do. Can you imagine if you had to find a home for a horse?”

  Duggy was certainly better than a horse and much easier to take on a plane. “I am thankful for that.” And sorry for begging to leave the dude ranch. If only she’d known Ryla had loved it so much. That picture was one of the few times she’d even seen her sister on that vacation. She’d been gone from sunup to sundown, every day.

  Paxton gripped the top of the mirror and his muscles flexed under the huge weight. The mirror slipped slightly and Quin rushed forward to catch the bottom of it. “Get out of the way.” He stated as if she’d just sat in the wrong seat. “I’ve got it. I don’t want this slipping and cutting you to pieces.”

  She backed away a few steps as he slowly lowered it past the mantel then down the fireplace until it rested on the floor. “Sorry. I thought I could keep it from falling.”

  He turned to face her. “I’m sure you could, but if I dropped it, it would fall away from me right at you.” His eyes warmed. “I would’ve hurt you and it would’ve been my fault. Thanks for doing this. I hated looking at that thing for years. Putting Ryla up there is perfect.”

  He touched her jaw and her heart melted. “I’m still being selfish. I want her painting up because it’s good, and I hated that mirror.”

  “Does this mean you’re staying? If you’re selling, it doesn’t make any sense to pay to have that painting framed and installed…”

  She glanced up at him, wanting to be weak, to lean into him and accept his strength. But she had to learn how to do this on her own before she could accept help from anyone else, even him. If she didn’t, he’d be just like her parents.

  “I don’t plan to stay, but I do want to make this house look and feel like home while I’m here. For as long as I’m here.” And she could admit that she wasn’t ready to think about leaving just yet.

  “It’s a start. I’ll leave the name of a guy who can help you get this mirror out and he’ll take the painting to frame it.”

  She didn’t want to hand it off to just anyone. “Are you sure? I could send it off…” But if she did that, it wouldn’t get back here in time for her to enjoy it.

  “It’s your call.” He rested the mirror against the fireplace and held the painting up to look at it better.

  “I’ll have your friend do it. If I don’t, it might get sent back here when the house is sold already. I might want to take it with me.” Not that she had anywhere big enough or prominent enough to put it.

  “It’s settled then. I’ll talk to him tomorrow and have him stop by.”

  After Paxton left, the house felt big and alone again, much like it did when she was young. Even with her parents and Ryla there, she was made to feel so different, so separate, that she rarely felt like part of the family.

  She ate a
small, solitary supper and glanced out the window at the lights in the neighborhood. So many others had families or friends, but she was there all alone. What did people do who had friends? Did they call other people? Did they reach out or just wait for others to notice?

  Quin reached for her phone and sent off a text to both Paxton and Karla, Hey, I was wondering if you’d like to come over for a board game or something? She wasn’t sure what else to ask.

  Karla answered within minutes. Just sent kids to their rooms for the night. Will be there in a few minutes. Paxton replied at the same time that he’d be right over.

  How had she lived for thirty years and not realized having friends helped the loneliness? Then again, she’d also had a sister and hadn’t figured that out either. Coming back to Driftwood Bay really had been eye-opening.

  Chapter Sixteen

  After a quick search of the living room, Quin found a hidden cabinet full of games. They looked as if they’d been there since she was a child, untouched. A thick layer of dust coated them, even though they’d been enclosed.

  Quin wiped off an old Clue game and set up the board on the table. With only three people, it wouldn’t be terribly difficult to figure out the mystery, but the game wasn’t really what she wanted. It was a reason for her new friends to come over when she wasn’t completely sure they would want to come just for her.

  Paxton walked in first, so comfortable that he didn’t knock. He gave her a quick hug, then went to the fridge. “Should I put together some snacks for all of us? We could do semi-healthy apples and peanut butter, or I could do a cream cheese dip with pickles and flaked corned beef?”

  It wasn’t until her stomach rumbled that she realized she’d missed supper. “The second sounds great if it’s not too much trouble?” She had no clue how to make anything like that. “How does a working single guy know so much about cooking?” Especially when a working single woman didn’t.

  “I have to cook for my clients, it’s something I offer that’s better than your average nursing home fare. Not everyone does. I don’t even know if every state allows it.” He shrugged. “I guess it’s my guy nature. I like good food and I like providing it. I’d probably do it even if the state didn’t let me. I haven’t heard a complaint.”

  She wouldn’t be the first. Anything was better than a ready-made frozen meal for the millionth time. Karla knocked and Quin rushed for the door to let her in.

  “Glad you could come. How are the kids?”

  Karla glanced at her feet for a moment, then behind Quin into the house. “Rob left today. The kids are angry, acting up. I told them I’d be here but would come home if they needed anything. Both of them can text me…” She turned and angled her head to see her house again, cradling her phone to her chest like a lifeline.

  “It’s okay to want to get out. You aren’t leaving them too.” Quin held the door but watched for Duggy.

  “I know. But I feel like I am. To go out for the night on the same day their dad took off? They probably feel like I am.”

  “If you’d rather stay there, I promise, no hard feelings. We can get together another night.” No matter how much she needed Karla, her kids needed her more and a good friend understood that. She was learning along the way how to do this.

  “I’ll be okay. I would usually put away my phone because it’s rude, but if you don’t mind…I’d like to keep it on the table?” She bit her lip and waited, her gaze flitting from Quin to Paxton behind her.

  “Absolutely. I’ve got the game set up in the dining room. Paxton is making some kind of corned beef concoction.”

  “Hey! It’s better than you make it sound.” He came up behind her bearing a bowl filled with a white dip that had pink and green flakes in it.

  Karla raised a brow. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Reserve your judgment until you’ve tried it. Quin, I left the crackers on a tray in the kitchen, can you grab them?”

  She headed for the tray and met Karla and Paxton in the dining room. Since the board was in the middle of the table, she set the crackers on a serving board along the wall. Paxton moved the dip there and spooned some on a plate for both women.

  Quin’s first bite was crunchy, salty, sweet, tangy, and savory all in one bite. “Wow, that was unexpected.” She scooped more onto her plate and took more crackers.

  “Let’s eat and play.” Paxton settled into a chair. He looked so comfortable in there, even though he’d probably rarely eaten at the dining room table. “I’ve heard of Clue, but never played. You’ve got the rules?”

  Karla sat next and Quin took the remaining seat. She could remember playing as a child and as soon as she read aloud the first few numbers on the sheet, she recalled the rest. “It’s pretty easy.” She handed Paxton and Karla scoring sheets.

  “This might be the oldest game board I’ve ever seen.” He slowly inspected all the pieces. “Where did you find this?”

  “In the living room cupboard. They are…” She thought about the music from her teens that was now on the old stations. “Antiques.”

  “We had one just like this when I was growing up. But we played it so often that all the cards were bent, the tracking sheets were all used… Good times,” Karla said.

  Quin eyed the barely used set with pristine cards and full scoring sheets and wondered what it would be like to have a family where they played games more than once or twice or even spent time together. “Did your family play games, Paxton?” Perhaps that was just something families did?

  “Eh, my parents were more into movies. We watched Goonies so often I have it memorized. If you’d picked a movie trivia game, I’d probably be able to win.” He dug into the crackers and dip.

  “So, you both spent family time as kids? I mean, did things besides vacations?” Quin’s parents had been too busy making money and deciding how her life would go to take time for family fun and games. Even the thought of her mother relaxing enough to laugh at a game was ludicrous.

  Paxton leaned back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head. “We did, but we didn’t do many vacations. That’s part of the reason why I bought this house next to the beach. We never went. Now, I work so much I never get to enjoy it.”

  Karla frowned. “Family vacations were usually to relatives’ houses. My parents were more likely to buy us a handheld game than to offer to play with us, but there was always game night. With snacks, of course.”

  After about an hour and a more interesting game than Quin expected, Karla glanced down at her phone. “I haven’t heard from either of the kids. I should really go home and check on them. Thanks for inviting me, Quin. Next time, we’ll meet at my house.” She stood and helped take the empty cracker tray back to the kitchen.

  Quin gave her a quick hug, then waved as she dashed out the door, catching Duggy as he rushed to catch it. He kicked his back feet so she would release him and stopped as soon as the door closed, then he froze in place.

  “He wasn’t even that bad with Ryla.” Paxton stood behind her and gently rubbed her arms.

  “That’s because he thinks she’s outside. Like she could come back any minute. He misses her.” She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but it was like the longer she’d been with the bunny, the more she understood his moods. The hurt and longing hit her in waves like the ocean. “I do too. Sometimes I think if I just walk down to the beach, I’ll find her in our old spot where we used to hide and tell each other secrets. I’ve not only lost my sister. I’ve lost my only friend.” All her reserve crumbled, and she let the tears stream down her face.

  Paxton stepped in front of her and held her loosely, letting her just hold on for as long as she needed. For prolonged minutes he just held her until she couldn’t cry anymore.

  “It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to let it out. It’s human. You’re supposed to.” His calming words lifted the weight off her shoulders.

  “She told me I was selfish before she passed. I’ve never felt so uncomfortable around her as I did when I
got here. I don’t understand what she was trying to tell me, but I know she wanted me to understand something. I wish she were still here to just tell me.” Her diaries were a help, but they were from many years before. All children had issues with their siblings, but in the diaries, her anger seemed more directed at Mom and Dad than Quin. They were no help at figuring out what Ryla had wanted Quin to know.

  His hand slowed as he tenderly rubbed her back. “I never heard her actually call you selfish. She thought the world of you and wanted to keep you from even the smallest stress.”

  Just like Mom and Dad. She’d learned that and couldn’t even tell Quin when she was dying because it had been ingrained in her to never say anything. “Our parents did her a disservice. I wonder if we could’ve been closer if she would’ve felt comfortable sharing with me or if I still would have been just as cold and distant… She didn’t share with me. I thought she didn’t want to. Now I’m beginning to understand why.”

  “You’ve just lost your sister, I don’t want you to lose your parents too. They were from a different era than us. They were workaholics, the whole lot of them. They cared about keeping their jobs and working long hours so they would have stability. They thought stability was love. Not saying they did nothing wrong, but there may be some explanation in there.”

  That could be part of it, but then why treat Ryla differently from Quin as they always had? Why did they focus so much on Quin, even after she’d left home? Ryla was the one who agreed to watch their house when they wanted to travel, yet they still didn’t treat her like she was special.

  “No wonder Ryla always faded to the background. I’m realizing she was taught to.”

  Paxton stepped back slightly and glanced down into her face. “Don’t beat yourself up over what you can’t change. Live right now and be better for your future. You can’t force your parents to be different people and you can’t bring Ryla back, but you can learn from her life and that would be important to her.”