Big Lies in a Small Town - Diane Chamberlain Page 0,40

Then I pointed to the photograph of the boy. “Is that your son?” I asked as he began looking through one of the stacks of paper on his desk.

“Nathan. Yes. And he shares your musical taste, I’m afraid. He’s completely into it.”

“He’s very cute. He has your blue eyes, doesn’t he. Does he like art?”

“Not in the least.” Oliver laughed. “His stepfather is a computer guru and that’s become his thing. And yeah, I’m jealous.” He smiled at me. He had one of those faces that lit up entirely when he smiled. His eyebrows were expressive, and his eyes crinkled behind his glasses. “But mostly I’m happy he ended up with a decent stepdad,” he said.

I thought I detected pain in his voice over sharing his son with another man. There was something about Oliver that truly touched me. I felt as though I could tell him my whole miserable life story and he wouldn’t flinch. It made me want to lift the little bit of sadness I saw in his face just then.

“You’ll have him all to yourself at that lake in a couple of months,” I said, and I was happy to see the spark return to his eyes.

“Smith Mountain Lake, yeah,” he said, rifling through the stack of paper. “I’ve already bought us some new fishing gear. It’ll be a full week of him groaning at me and saying, “Daaaad, you’re such a dork.” He laughed, though quickly sobered. “He’s the light of my life,” he said.

I smiled at him. He was so sweet. I wished I’d had a father who’d felt that way about his kid.

Adam suddenly appeared in the doorway of the office. He was taller than I’d realized. Taller and broader and half naked. He pulled his T-shirt on over the glistening skin of his chest, messing up his bun.

“We’re ready to start stretching the mural,” he said to Oliver. “You said you wanted to help?” I wondered if he’d intentionally waited to put on his shirt until he was in front of me because when he caught my eye, he was grinning at me. I looked away. I wasn’t here to find a man, especially one who reminded me of Trey.

“Be out in a sec,” Oliver said, and Adam disappeared down the hallway. Oliver pulled a yellowed piece of newspaper from the pile he’d been sorting through. “So,” he said, “here’s what I wanted to show you. Lisa gave me a big folder of Jesse’s plans for the gallery and I found this in it.”

He handed me the yellowed article, folded in half. I unfolded it carefully and laid it flat on the edge of the makeshift desk. Leaning forward, I read the date at the top of the page: December 14, 1939. The headline: New Jersey Artist to Paint Mural for Edenton Post Office.

“It’s your Anna Dale,” Oliver said.

My Anna Dale. The words made me feel instantly closer to the artist. There was a photograph of a girl about my age standing a distance in front of what looked like a warehouse. She wore a light-colored, neatly tailored coat and gloves, but no hat. Her hair looked very dark—maybe even black—and it was cut in a striking chin-length bob with thick straight bangs that just grazed her eyebrows. The overall look was very dramatic and, at the same time, almost impish. She wore an engaging smile. A confident smile. She didn’t look the least bit deranged.

“Wow,” I said. “So this is our talented and possibly nutso Anna Dale?”

“Read it,” Oliver said.

I read the article to myself.

Miss Anna Dale, 22, of Plainfield, New Jersey, is the Edenton winner of the 48-States Mural Contest sponsored by the United States Treasury Department. Upon completion, the 12 × 6 mural will be mounted on the post office wall above the door to the postmaster’s office. Miss Dale did not get specific in discussing the subject of the mural. “Edenton has a rich history and a rich present,” she said. “I hope to capture both in the mural.” When asked about the concern some Edenton residents have expressed about an artist from New Jersey painting a mural for a Southern town, she replied, “It’s an honor to get to live in Edenton while I work on the mural so I can get to know the residents and hopefully give them a painting they can enjoy for many years to come. I’m very excited about the opportunity. I’ve already begun creating the proposed sketch for the mural,” Miss