Chapter 71
Astrid’s POV
The sun had just begun to set, painting the sky in soft orange colour. The light cast a warm, golden glow over the pond, making the water shine like it was sparkling gold. It was beautiful and it was sothing I felt like capturing on my canvas but I didn’t have one yet so I’m going to stick with my sketchbooks
The children, their earlier mischief forgotten, were now sitting peacefully on a large blanket with their nannies, munching on snacks the won had packed. The air was filled with their soft chatter and the gentle rustle of the grass and trees.
I was completely absorbed in my drawing, my pencil flying across the page. I had moved on from sketching the children and was now trying to capture the way the pack made feel. Yes, it was an abstract drawing, I was just going with what I felt like not drawing from mory or from seeing what was in front of but just letting my feelings and my hands take control.
It was a challenge, but a welco one. For the first ti in what felt like a lifeti, my mind was quiet, focused solely on the task at hand. The sha and anxiety that had plagued since the kiss had receded, replaced by a profound sense of calm.
A slight tug on the sleeve of my sweater pulled from my concentration. I looked down and found myself staring into a pair of wide, curious blue eyes. It was Christian, the youngest of the trio. He had a small smudge of chocolate on his cheek and was clutching a half-eaten cookie in one hand.
"What you doing?" he asked, his voice soft and muffled by the cookie in his mouth.
I couldn’t help but smile, he was just so cute. "I’m drawing," I told him, tilting my sketchbook so he could see.
I showed him the drawing of them, the one I did of him, Leo and Maya while they focused on the lake.
His eyes widened in awe as he looked at the page. He pointed a chubby, slightly sticky finger at the drawing of him and the twins by the water.
"That’s ! And Leo! And Maya!" he exclaid, his voice filled with delight.
"It is," I confird, my smile widening. "Do you like it?"
He nodded vigorously, his dark curls bouncing. "It’s pwetty," he said to with a wide smile.
He leaned closer, his little nose almost touching the paper. "My mummy draws too."
I turned to him in shock. The only artist I knew in this pack was Yvonne but then again, this pack was huge and Kaeleen had told before they had nurous notable individuals and people who were free to do their own thing.
"Oh, really? I bet she’s good." I said to him,
He nodded again, even more enthusiastically this ti.
"She’s the bestest!" he said. "She makes... pictures with... with sticky stuff!" He scrunched up his face in concentration, trying to find the right words. "And they’re big! Bigger than you! And sotis they’re sad, with drippy colors. But sotis they’re happy, like... like a big sunshine!"
I listened, completely captivated. I had no idea what sticky stuff was, although I suspected it was paint. His adorable description was the most charming thing I had ever heard. I imagined a woman painting huge, vibrant canvases filled with emotion. It sounded wonderful.
"Your mummy sounds like an amazing artist," I said, my voice filled with genuine admiration. "I would love to see her work soti."
"You can!" he said brightly. "It’s in our house! And in the... the big white room with all the people!"
Was he talking about a gallery? I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to just jump to conclusions.
Before I could ask him what he ant by the big white room, a new voice called out, warm and familiar.
"Christian, baby, what are you doing bothering the Luna?"
I looked up, and my breath caught. Walking toward us was a woman with a kind, smiling face and the sa dark, curly hair as her son. She was wearing a pair of paint-splattered overalls over an old t-shirt, and her hair was piled into a ssy bun on top of her head, held in place by a pencil. Despite her work-worn clothes, she moved with an effortless grace.
"Mummy!" Christian shrieked with delight. He abandoned without a second thought and ran toward her, his little legs pumping as fast as they could go.
The woman scooped him up into her arms, laughing as she peppered his face with kisses. "There’s my little monster. Were you being good for Maria?"
I recognized her imdiately. I had no idea how I did not notice she was the one imdiately I heard her voice.
"Yvonne," I said, finding my voice and standing up. "It’s good to see you."
She turned to , her smile warm and genuine. "Astrid. It’s so good to see you too. I haven’t seen you since that party, Rebecca three for you." She shifted Christian to her other hip. " How are you? I hope my little guy wasn’t causing too much trouble."
"Not at all," I said honestly. "He was just telling all about his mother’s amazing artwork."
Yvonne laughed, a rich, lodic sound. "Oh, did he?"
She turned to him with a smile. "What did you tell her?"
"The sticky stuff." He said with a laugh.
She chuckled. "Did you understand what he said?" She asked .
"Of course."
"Well, I’m glad you did," she said, her eyes twinkling with amusent. "Most people just look confused." She looked down at my sketchbook, which I was still holding. "He wasn’t the only one talking about art, I see. May I?"
"Of course," I said, feeling a sudden wave of shyness as I handed it to her.
There were only a handful of people I’ve shown my works to and I was nervous the whole ti just like how I am right now.
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