Free Hometown Star by Joleen James

nose, and a mouth with full lips. Her hair was auburn, the same shade as Emma’s.
    “Your mother,” Star said.
    Brad nodded.
    “She was beautiful.”
    Brad stared at the portrait, then reached out to touch his mother’s face. “Yeah.”
    Star’s heart went out to him. “Of course you may have it. I’m surprised Patsy didn’t already give them to you. Are there others here?”
    Brad nodded.
    “Take them, please,” Star said.
    He nodded again.
    Star reached out and gave his arm a comforting squeeze. He didn’t acknowledge the gesture and she hadn’t expected him to.
    Curious about Patsy’s other paintings, Star began to flip through them. There were several landscapes, depicting everything from downtown Seward, to Resurrection Bay, to Patsy’s own yard. Star set aside a particularly stirring painting of Resurrection Bay, the sky gray, the water even grayer. Snow lined the pier, softened the businesses nestled nearby. She’d managed to capture the bay in winter, right down to the lonely gulls. The landscapes were raw and powerful, but the portraits stirred something in Star’s soul.
    Star recognized all of Patsy’s subjects. There were several of Star, Tawney, Ruby Sue, and Brandi. There was even a wedding portrait of Brandi and Bud, which Star would make certain her sister received. There was one of Emma alone, and one with Emma, Finn, and Brad.
    “This is why you come here, you and Finn and Em,” Star said. “You come to see the paintings, don’t you?” Her heart ached for the kids.
    Brad nodded.
    “Does your dad know?”
    “I guess.” Brad shrugged. “I asked if we could have them, and he said that they belonged to Patsy’s estate.”
    “Well as the executor of Patsy’s will, I’m giving them to your family. Take them all.”
    Brad gave her a small smile. “Thanks, Star.” Brad held up a painting.
    It was a portrait of Cade’s father, Dan O’Brien. He’d been a handsome man, big and rugged and blustery. He’d died about a year before Patsy. Cancer. She remembered that much from Patsy’s phone calls. “That’s your grandpa.”
    “I know.”
    “Take it, too,” Star said, certain Cade would want it.
    “Dad won’t want it,” Brad said.
    “Why not?” she asked, looking at Brad.
    “Because of Patsy.” Brad set the painting down.
    “What do you mean?” Star asked, not understanding. “I think Cade would love it. It’s good.”
    Brad shook his head. “Grandpa and Patsy were, you know, doing it.”
    “Doing what?” She stared at Brad, hoping she misunderstood.
    “ It .”
    Did he mean sex? No. No way. She thought back. No, she’d never seen Patsy with Cade’s father, not in any kind of romantic way. Patsy had worked for Dan O’Brien. She hadn’t slept over, and he’d never stayed over with Patsy. Not once.
    “Are you saying your grandpa and Patsy were dating?” she asked.
    “I guess. I used to hear Dad and Uncle Ron arguing about it. Dad wanted to kick Patsy off our land after Grandpa died, but Uncle Ron wouldn’t let him. He said that Grandpa made it clear that Patsy could live here as long as she wanted. Dad called Patsy a tramp.”
    Star bristled. “A tramp? Patsy wasn’t a tramp. She was the most generous, loving person I’ve ever met.” She struggled to process everything Brad had told her. “If she was friends with your grandpa, that was a choice they both made. Maybe they loved each other.”
    Brad shrugged. “Whatever. But I don’t think Dad will want the painting.”
    “I’ll tell you what,” Star said. “I’ll talk to him.”
    She’d talk to him all right and not just about the painting. She wanted him to take back his slanderous remark about Patsy. Dating a man didn’t make a woman a tramp. What kind of caveman–type thinking was that? Thank goodness she’d made it clear their kiss was a one time lapse in judgment.
    Brad tucked several canvases of his mother and siblings under his arms. “It’s your funeral.”
    He left the room, leaving