—Theresa—

“Zury, come on, honey. You love applesauce.” I couldn’t believe I was practically pleading with my toddler, yet here I was. She was usually such a good kid, but this morning she’d woken up in the foulest mood.

“NO!” A fierce glare on her face, she flung her applesauce from the tray of her highchair.

Anger threatened to swell in me, but I harshly tamped it down. I was already running late; getting pissed at Zury wasn’t going to help.

“Theresa, you go to work,” Mom said, suddenly sweeping in from the other room. She bent to clean up the mess Zury had made. “I’ll take care of her.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

She turned a kind smile onto me. “I know. Now get going.”

I hated to leave her with a fussy toddler, but I really did need to get going. Besides, Mom had raised four kids; she probably had a handful of tricks to calm little ones down. “Alright, thanks, Mom.” I pressed a kiss to Zury’s hair and left the house.

Fortunately, Willow Creek is a small town—at least compared to San Myshuno—so traffic was minimal. I just managed to make it to work on time.

When I walked onto the show floor, I immediately turned my attention to prospective buyers—only to find one of my own works staring down at me from the wall. I looked up at it in open shock. It couldn’t possibly be mine, yet it had to be mine. How could it be hanging there?

“That’s a lovely piece.”

I turned to find Angie next to me. “It’s mine,” I said dumbly.

She smiled. “I know. Your mom brought it in. When Mr. Sheffield saw it, he had to put it on display.” Surely she didn’t mean Mr. Sheffield, the owner of the gallery.

“My mom brought it in?”

Angie nodded. “It really is great. You should’ve brought it in sooner; you know Mr. Sheffield loves to showcase local artists.”

“I guess I forgot,” I said absently, turning my attention back to the painting.

Angie wandered off, but I stayed rooted in place. I wanted to take it down, hide it away. There were real artists up on those walls next to it. What was my painting doing up there where it had no business being? Mr. Sheffield was out that day, but he was supposed to be in his office tomorrow. I’d talk to him about it then.

I got home earlier than usual and immediately went to find Mom—which didn’t take long, since she was in the living room.

“Why did you give them my painting?” I asked, anger and more than a bit of hurt in my tone. I wished I could remove the latter.

Mom looked up at me, completely unapologetic. “Because it’s beautiful. It deserved to be there. I knew Richard would agree.” Of course, she was on a first-name basis with Mr. Sheffield; they were the same age. She’d likely worked closely with him back when she worked at the gallery.

“You shouldn’t have done it. He probably just put it up as a favor to you.”

Mom shook her head and patted the spot next to her on the sofa. “Theresa, come sit down.” I hesitated but reluctantly took a seat.

“Sweetheart…why don’t you think your work is good enough? What happened to the girl who moved to the big city to make her dreams come true?”

I remembered the day I’d told my parents I was dropping out of college and moving to San Myshuno. They’d been dead set against it, and I’d made a rather impassioned speech about living my dream to become an artist. I’d been filled with drive and passion…until the rejections had started. One gallery after another had glanced at my work, paintings that I’d slaved over, meticulously choosing every color and brush stroke, and found it wanting.

Gently, Mom spoke again. “Your work is beautiful, Theresa. It’s rich and evocative and just as good as anything else in the gallery.”

Tears burned my eyes. I used to think so, too. When had I stopped? When had I started to listen more to the snooty, plastic automatons that filled the galleries in San Myshuno than my own heart? When had I become ashamed of my paintings?

“You’re my mother; you have to say that,” I said with a sniff.

She smiled softly. “Maybe, but Richard didn’t have to display your painting. You know he wouldn’t have if he didn’t believe it was good enough to be up there. Just watch, Theresa. It’ll sell before you know it.”

As it happened, she was right.

As a quick heads up, I’ve updated the Story Builds section with Loralee and Tommy’s three houses and Hadley’s house post-renovation if anyone would like to check it out. I’m planning to add more in the future.