When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting Page 0,5
“I really needed this sale.”
Abby had worked in an art gallery in New York. When she’d moved to Kauai, she’d decided to open up a small one. I used to love painting too, but after Jayden broke my heart, I’d lost my confidence.
Abby had some of my oils on canvas hanging in her Kauai gallery. She’d even sold a couple. A long time ago, I’d pushed away the dream of being a painter and became a graphic designer so I could get a steady income; however, I did paint every chance I got. Or I had, before Jayden.
Sometimes I wished I could take the leap as Abby had and pursue my dream. If I knew for sure it would pay the bills, I just might quit my job and paint full time.
I took another sip of the passionfruit green tea and let out a long breath. “Like I said, I understand. Can I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’m worried.”
My sister gave me that stare but surprised me when she nodded.
I looked over my shoulder to make sure Tyler wasn’t listening and then set my eyes on Abby. “Are you in financial trouble?”
Abby divided the stir-fry onto three plates and then handed two filled plates to me. “I have some savings. I’m okay for now. I’ve got enough rent money for the gallery, thanks to the person who purchased one of my paintings today, but who knows how long that will last.”
I set the plates on the table and Abby placed the utensils.
“Ty, dinner is ready.”
“Finally.” Tyler peered up from the block tower he had been building, his big brown eyes wide and alert. “Thank you, Mom.”
The blocks toppled to the ground when his heel knocked against the base on his way to the table. He eased into his chair next to me and grabbed a fork.
Abby grabbed her tablet off the counter, turned on background music, and sat across from me.
A soft Christmas melody filtered through the house, filling my soul with peace.
“You’ve made it this far. You’ll be fine,” I said. “But if you—”
“Nope.” She raised a hand. “I’m fine. But thank you.”
If she needed financial help, she would reach out to our parents. Her pride wouldn’t let her ask me. For her, it would mean she had failed.
“But just in case.” I wanted to stress my point.
We weren’t little anymore. The little difference between our ages was nonessential. We should lean on each other through troubled times. Yes, we were sisters, but we were more than that. Best friends.
Abby shrank into her seat and smiled. “Thanks. I appreciate that, but I should be fine for a little while. The future is unsteady and impossible to predict. That’s the hardest part of this business. Sometimes I wish I had taken your route and opted for the steady income.”
I took a bite of the delicious chicken and savored the sweet sauce. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t.”
“Well ...” Abby regarded Tyler with affection. “Let’s put aside our worries for now and eat in peace. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too,” Tyler said around a mouthful of broccoli. “It’s going to be the best Christmas ever.”
At the mention of Christmas, I realized I hadn’t noticed any holiday decorations. I glanced around to see if I’d missed them, but there were none. No Christmas tree. Not a single holly leaf or twinkling lights.
Simple furniture took up the cozy family room. A large family portrait of the three of them hung over the mantel and a few framed pictures of Mom, Dad, Abby, and me when we were younger sat on the end table. Abby and I looked similar and yet different. We both had our father’s eyes, but I had inherited our mother’s smooth Asian skin and her narrow jawline.
“So ...” My sister cleared her throat, bringing me back to the present. “I didn’t have a chance to get a tree.”
Two cardboard boxes sat by the TV, marked Christmas. I jerked my head toward them.
Abby scrunched her nose and swallowed. “I haven’t had time to unpack them.”
She meant it was too painful to look at the Christmas things she had collected over the years with Steve. Though I knew my sister was making an effort to be in the Christmas spirit for her son, her heart wasn’t there. I didn’t blame her.
“Leave that up to me.” I poked through cabbage with my fork. “I’m good at unpacking.”
“You don’t have—”
“I know, but I