My Kind of Wonderful(7)
Bailey felt her eyebrows raise. She hadn’t heard this story.
Carrie reached for a small framed picture on her bed tray and handed it to Bailey.
It was of two boys, maybe eight years old. Identical twins. “My boys,” Carrie said with clear adoration. “Hud just gave this to me for my birthday. You can’t tell but they’re actually mirror images of each other. Hud’s right-handed and Jacob’s left-handed. Hud’s cowlick swirl on his head is clockwise, Jacob’s counterclockwise. You ever hear of such a thing?”
Bailey shook her head. She knew next to nothing about being a mom, much less twins.
Carrie smiled but it faded quickly. “For all their similarities, my boys couldn’t be more different. Hud always wanted to travel the world and experience new things. Jacob’s a homebody. But they’re two peas in a pod in so many ways. They never even had to use words with each other.”
Past tense, Bailey thought.
“I know this painting isn’t going to fix us,” Carrie said softly, “or even put them back together. I’m not that far gone to believe in miracles. But I want to help. I need to help.”
“And you think a mural will do that?” Bailey asked quietly.
“It will remind all of them of what once was,” Carrie said. “That they are the most whole when they’re together.”
“That’s a tall order for a mural,” Bailey said.
“I know, but some of this is my fault,” Carrie said. “Hud and Jacob fought and now Jacob’s gone and Hud has all these regrets. And because of it, he pushes away the people he cares about most. He’s good at it too. I’m their mom, Bailey. I have to do this for them. Please say you’ll be the one to help me do this for them.”
Bailey knew a little something about regrets. Or a lot. But this whole thing was way out of her wheelhouse.
“I promise I’m not crazy,” Carrie said, and then grimaced. “Well, okay, so I’m a little crazy. But that has nothing to do with this. I saw your boards on Pinterest. You’ve done some beautiful work.”
Maybe, but up until now Bailey’s painting had been for herself, given to friends and family. None of her paintings was bigger than a bedroom wall, nothing commissioned, and nothing as big as the wall at the resort. She’d been painting by night in her grandma’s memory for years because it brought her grandma, whom she missed with all her heart and soul, back to life in her mind. She’d been doing that while working as a graphic artist by day for her bread and butter. “You know that this would be my first mural,” Bailey said. “Right?”
Carrie nodded. “Yes, but I figured it was just math, right?”
Bailey choked out a laugh. “Well, yeah, in theory…”
“That’s good enough for me.” Carrie reached for Bailey’s hand. “The resort needs this. The kids need this. I need this, and I’m getting the sense that maybe you do too.”
This woman had two young boys, one who’d possibly died and one locked in grief. Truly awful. She gently squeezed Carrie’s fingers, having no doubt in her mind that Carrie and her young son Hud indeed needed this.
But did Bailey?
Given that for the last ten years, her sole focus had been on staying alive… Okay, yes, she wanted this, but that wasn’t a reason to give in to the very nice but possibly very crazy lady. But Bailey liked the idea of helping people. Was this the right way to go about it, though? One thing she’d learned after all she’d been through—there were options, always. Her doctor had taught her that, offering her choices at every roadblock they’d hit. This was an option and an opportunity.
“Say yes,” Carrie said, clasping her hands in front of her hopefully. “Say you’ll do this to help my boys.”
“Your boys don’t need any help,” a male voice said. A smooth yet gravelly voice, and Bailey froze before slowly turning to face…
Mountain Hottie.
Chapter 3
Hud had been surprised when he’d gotten to his mom’s room to hear her talking about him and Jacob. Then he’d heard the actual words and he’d stopped short.
She felt that what had happened between him and Jacob was her fault.
Her sadness and regret pummeled at him and wrenched him back to a time he didn’t want to think about. What had happened wasn’t her fault, not by a long shot.
It was his.
The fight with Jacob had been the worst day of Hud’s life, and that was saying something since there’d been a few doozies before and since. But that day Hud had said things to his brother, things that couldn’t be taken back, and he knew he could never make it right between them again.
That was his cross to bear. Not his mom’s. But apparently she didn’t see it that way. Just as she didn’t see him as a grown man. In her eyes, he was still a child. That wasn’t her fault either. It was the dementia. Just the thought had his chest tightening. She’d been through so much, and apparently life wasn’t done messing with her yet.
Nor him. Because the woman sitting at his mom’s side was no other than the pretty cherry-red–capped skier from the resort. Bailey. Hud stepped into the room and looked at his mom. She was sitting up, dressed, wearing lip gloss and smiling. For a quick beat, he stared at her, so relieved he couldn’t get a word out. She looked good today. Happy. Even playful—although that never boded well for him. “Mom,” he murmured affectionately, and bent to kiss her cheek.