Hummingbird Lane by Brown, Carolyn (good books to read for beginners TXT) 📕

make my own decisions. I leaned on that thought pretty heavy while I was talking to her. Now tell me about the showings. How are they going? Are you going to come home with a million dollars in your pockets?”

“I just might if we have another sale like this when we get to Rome,” Sophie laughed. “This has been an amazing experience, but I’m so ready to be home.”

“I’m so proud of you and for you,” Emma said. “You’re carving out a place in the world. But for now, you should go enjoy being with Teddy. We’ll see you in a few days.”

When the call ended, Emma got out her brushes, paints, and a canvas and carried them to the table behind Filly’s house. Hummingbirds were fluttering around the feeders, their long bills acting like straws to suck up the sweet red water.

She painted in a blue sky and then added some fluffy white clouds. After that, she laid in just enough of the edge of a feeder to catch a little of one of the yellow plastic daisies around the glass.

“And now the bird.” She smiled. “No darkness anywhere today, just a bright picture. Hello, Coco!” she said when the cat walked across the table. “What do you think, girl? Shall we defy all logic here and dress the hummingbird in bright colors? It’s not a purple lizard, but we can give it some extra help.”

Coco gave her a pitiful meow.

“Does that mean you want me to paint it as I see it or as I see the hope of a brighter future?” she asked.

Coco yawned and curled up on the end of the table.

She laid in the general outline of the bird with his wings outstretched. “I feel like I opened up my own wings today, and now I can fly.”

She painted his chest bright red, added a bit of turquoise to his tail and back, and, as a final touch, put just a hint of purple on his bill. With a few strokes, she made him come alive with yellow in his wings, and with the smallest detail brush she had, she wrote the word hope into the lines of his tiny feet and signed the work in the bottom right-hand corner.

“An artist can make the hummingbird any color they want, just like a lizard,” she whispered to Coco.

“Yes, they can,” Josh said from behind her.

“Sweet Lord!” She gasped and almost dropped her paintbrush in the dirt. She’d been so involved with reliving the phone call with her mother that she hadn’t even heard a vehicle drive up in the front courtyard. “You startled me. I wasn’t looking for you to get home for a couple more hours.” She held up the painting. “What do you think?”

“It’s my favorite ever. If I can have it, I’ll give you free rent for the month of August on the trailer,” he said. “I see happiness, and I love the color.”

“It’s yours.” Emma extended her work toward him. It was hard to believe that one little painting had netted her another month in the trailer. Maybe by the time that month was up, this thing with her mother and the money would be settled.

He’s a sweetheart for doing this, she thought as she stole a long look at him while he was studying the picture in his hands.

“Thank you,” Josh said. “We brought sub sandwiches. Come on around to the table and have one with us.”

Emma nodded. “I’m starving, and I’ve got a lot to tell you all about what happened today.” She was so happy that the family was home and she could share everything that had happened that day with them. The news wasn’t as big a thing as when she got to tell them about Sophie’s engagement and the new gallery. But just knowing that she was getting stronger every day made her feel closer to Josh—closer to them all.

Chapter Fifteen

Depression was nothing new to Emma, but sheer restlessness was. Her days had been planned from the time she woke up in the morning until she went to bed at night for so long that she loved her newfound freedom. But this antsy feeling down deep inside her was something she had never experienced.

She watched the sunset that evening from her back porch, but it wasn’t nearly as pretty as the sunrise had been that morning—before the showdown with Jeffrey and her mother.

“That’s it!” She snapped her fingers. “I so wanted her to be sympathetic and say that the rape wasn’t my fault, that maybe she shouldn’t have kept me away from the world so much as a child. I could actually have developed some street smarts. Instead, she excused herself. Nothing has ever been her fault.”

Josh rounded the end of the trailer. “Hey, want to listen to some music this evening?”

“I think I’d rather talk,” she said. “Want a beer or a glass of sweet tea?”

“Beer would be great.” He smiled.

“Come on inside,” she said as she stood up and headed for the door.

She took two bottles of beer from the fridge and handed one to Josh, then motioned for him to sit on the sofa. She took a seat on the other end and sat cross-legged. “I can’t decide if I’m jittery or antsy or what the deal is tonight. I already told you about what happened when Mother called, but I just realized that she’s been unhappy for most of her life. And yet she’s never taken any responsibility for her unhappiness. When something was her fault, she blamed someone else every time. It would be good for her to have to go to court and tell them that she’s robbing me,” she blurted out as she twisted the top off her beer and took a sip.

“I’m not sure I could have faced my father in court if he had decided to protest Harry’s will, but if you have to do that, then I’ll be there for you,” Josh said.

Emma