I removed the canvas from the easel because the painting from yesterday had almost dried completely and was nearly finished. However, it still took me another two hours to complete the part Remington asked me to draw. And just as I was about to sign on my work, there was a knock on the door.
“Come in.” I put down the brush, turned around, and took out the other painting I had completed but which I also had not signed. I was still debating where to place my signature on both of my paintings.
“Is this the project you’ve been working on?” Isabelle’s voice sounded.
“Mom!” I turned around and looked at the outside of the door and was relieved when I did not notice Crystal’s presence. She is in good shape today. Looks like she’s been resting for some time and that she’s recovering. ”Yes, I’m working on this for Remington’s art exhibition. In the past few years, he has been the most influential young painter in the country. Since he rarely holds an art exhibition for himself, I can’t mess this up.”
“It looks beautiful.” Isabelle walked over, gently ran her fingers across the canvas, and said softly, “You’ve always enjoyed drawing since you were a child. Just before important occasions or major festivals, you would ask me to buy you a different paintbrush. Not only that, but you would also study some famous works and try to grasp the painters’ styles. At the time I thought it would be your short-lived interest, but who knew you would end up becoming such a talented painter? I am really proud of you!”
The pride in my heart suddenly rose beyond my control. I had been praised by many people before, but aside from Christopher, my mother’s acknowledgment had given me the most joy. I was even more delighted than when I attended Mr. Sawyer’s academic exchange.
“It’s all because I’ve been well taught by you, Mom,” I humbly said.
“I did not teach you any of this, you silly girl. This is the result of your own efforts. You are a wonderful young lady and I am pleased to have you as my daughter.” Isabelle then approached me, gently tapped the back of my hand, and smiled. “You will be even more outstanding in the future.”
“Thanks, Mom!” I replied with a smile.
“Oh, there’s something I need you to help me with, but I’m not sure whether you are willing to,” Isabelle suddenly remarked.
“What is it? You can just tell me, Mom. We are family. Do you still need to be polite with me?” I pretended to be angry and glanced at Isabelle before simply saying, “What exactly do you want me to do? I’d be happier than ever if I could assist you with something.”
Isabelle was hesitating as she looked at the two paintings. It was either that she did not want to say anything, or did not know how to ask. I then said, “You can just say it to me, Mom. Really, it’s fine.”
Isabelle then sighed and said in all seriousness, “I hope that you will not attend the art exhibition this time and that you’d put Crystal’s name on both of these paintings.”
Thud! The paintbrush in my hand fell on the floor. As I heard what she said, I unintentionally staggered backward and knocked over the paint on the table. I was too shocked. That painting, which resulted from my collaboration with Remington, was instantly dyed with the spilled paint – it was completely destroyed.
I screamed and hurriedly tried to save the painting amid the chaos. Unfortunately, even the side I worked on was ruined by the paint. I stood motionless on the ground. After a while, I lifted my head with barely a smile and asked, “You’re kidding, right, Mom? Is it possible that I misheard what you said?”
“No, you heard it correctly. I’m sorry, Eve. I understand how difficult it is for you to do this, but I hope you will do it for me. You are very talented and can create many more of these paintings. All you need to know is that your inspiration and talent are unique and can never be stolen by others. Am I correct?”
Isabelle did not hesitate when she said this. Her words shattered all of my illusions. I stood up and almost cried as I placed the ruined painting on the table. I was really disappointed in myself for feeling so wronged after only hearing one sentence of hers.
Perhaps I felt so devastated simply because the person who said it was my mother.
“If I turn down your request, will you be angry?”
“Eve, I hope that you will agree.” Isabelle sounded firm. At this moment, she spoke like a boss talking to her subordinates, and I felt like I was being ordered to obey her command.
