Stella stirred up the blueberries from the bottom of her yogurt while watching Phoebe shovel the Skittles into garbage bags by the bowlful. Maybe she should give Phoebe a hand, but she was having too much fun watching her stepsister labor over the results of her misfired powers.“I don’t see why you won’t just zap them all away,” Phoebe complained. “I know you can.”
“Of course I can,” Stella replied between spoonfuls of blueberry yogurt. “But you would hardly learn your lesson if I make your problems disappear. You’re just lucky Daddy’s not here to see the mess.”
She smiled with satisfaction at the look of horror on Phoebe’s face, even if it wasn’t really justified. Although Daddy could be a bit of a stern disciplinarian, he had a soft spot for Phoebe that made Stella’s ears itch. He never let her get away with half the stuff Phoebe did. If Stella had been the one who visiomutated all the water in the house into glitter, she would still be grounded. Just like they were still finding glitter in the bathroom.
Hrmph. Stella would let Phoebe struggle a little longer with the manual Skittles removal before reversing the results of her misfire.
“Hey, what’s this?” Phoebe asked from where she was digging rainbow candy from beneath the sofa. “They feel like paintings.”
Stella froze.
She had forgotten about the paintings she’d hidden away so she wouldn’t have to face the reminders of bittersweet memories. Paintings she hadn’t laid eyes on in years. And now Phoebe was pulling them out into the light.
“Wow,” Phoebe said as she set the paintings onto the sofa and studied them. “They’re beautiful. Who painted them?”
Stella set her half-eaten yogurt on the kitchen counter and went to stand next to Phoebe. There were four canvases. The first three were goddess portraits, commissioned by Hera, Athena, and Artemis. The fourth was a portrait of a hematheos woman with loose-flowing blonde hair, soft gray eyes, and a joyful smile.
“My mom painted those,” Stella answered, pointing at the goddess portraits. Then, facing the painting she could never bring herself to destroy, she said, “And I painted that one.”
“Stella ...”
Phoebe’s voice had taken on such a strange tone of awe and surprise that Stella couldn’t help turning to meet her steady brown gaze.
“That’s amazing.” Phoebe shook her head, like she couldn’t quite fathom the situation. “I didn’t know you painted.”
Stella looked back at the portrait she’d done, the portrait of her mother.
“I don’t.”
Tune in tomorrow for the next installment. [Part 4]
Hugs,
TLC
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