Daddy’s Law by K.C. Crowne

Chapter 25

Ava

Today was the day that we had originally planned to go to the Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit. Given the fact that somebody was stalking me, we had to cancel our plans.

Cory was upstairs in his room, sketching. I was grateful he was in a better mood than he was yesterday. Theo and I were downstairs in the living room. He was busy making several calls while I surfed the channels on his TV, bored out of my mind.

“No, not Henderson,” Theo said. He was in bodyguard mode. To the point, sharp, commanding. “Henderson’s full of hot air. I don’t care if he worked with the Secret Service. We both know that he was the spare to take over for holiday shifts. No, I don’t want him on Miss Cruise’s security detail.”

The back and forth went on for a good hour. The person on the other end of the line —I assumed it was Jesse— would list several names of bodyguards he wanted to assign to me. Theo would then proceed to tear each suggestion apart, listing minor offences and major ones to toss their names from consideration.

“What do you mean that’s it?” Theo asked. “That’s your entire roster? I thought you went on a hiring spree last fall.” He paused, listening with so much focus his shoulders and neck tensed. “No, I trust Park as far as I can throw him. None of them are good enough to keep her safe.”

I sat with my knees tucked to my chest, arms wrapped around to hug myself into a ball. Seeing Theo take this so seriously made the tips of my fingers and toes all warm and fuzzy.

He eventually relented with a sigh. “Wilson and Miles. They’re at least competent.” Another pause. “Fine.” Theo then hung up the phone but continued to pace around the room.

“Is this the part where I ask you to fill me in?” I asked.

“Jesse has a safe house prepared for you. When you get there, you’ll be introduced to your day and night watch bodyguards, Wilson and Miles. They’ll alternate shifts to make sure you’re covered at all hours of the day. I’ll be delivering you to the location tomorrow.”

I bit my nails. “And after that?”

Theo’s jaw tightened. “I’ll be relieved of my duties.”

“Oh,” I mumbled.

“I’m sorry you have to go through all of this due to my complacency. None of this would have happened had I not grown so attached.”

My cheeks flooded with heat. Attached.

Not quite a confession, but not nothing, either.

“Knock it off,” I said, trying my best to use a teasing tone. “No need to get all emotional on me. None of this was your fault. You did everything you could, and there isn’t even a scratch on me. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a job well done.”

Theo sat down on the couch, less than an inch of space between us. I had to fight the urge to take his hand.

“Today’s your last day here,” he muttered. “You’ll be in good hands. I made sure of it.”

“I heard.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to go to the museum. I know Cory was really looking forward to it.”

“Yeah. Bummer.”

He rested a hand on his knee, his finger just barely grazing mine. I hooked my pinky around his. It was subtle, but it was also everything. We couldn’t outright hold hands just in case Cory came downstairs, so this would have to do. There was very little I wouldn’t give to have a few more minutes like this with him. After tomorrow, there was no telling what was in store for us. I personally didn’t want to ask, afraid of what the answer might be.

Maybe Theo felt the exact same way.

I didn’t want the last day with him to be such a low note. I wanted to do something special, not just for him, but for Cory, too. I thought about the exhibit while staring at the wide white walls of Theo’s living room. A switch in the back of my mind flipped, making way for a brilliant idea.

“Do you happen to have a projector, by any chance?” I asked him.

“I think so. I might have one stored in the basement somewhere.”

“Do you think you could fish it out for me?”

“I guess I could. Am I allowed to ask what for?”

I winked. “It looks like I won’t be teaching Cory for a while. I want to give him one final lesson. One that he won’t forget.”

“This sounds promising.”

“You’re going to help me.”

“I am?”

“Just go get the projector. We’re going to put together a group presentation.”

“Please don’t tell me I’m going to be marked.”

“We’ll be graded individually, yes. You better pull your weight.”

Theo chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

* * *

It took me a great deal of troubleshooting, but I got the hang of Theo’s old projector eventually. It was a clunky old thing, and it was quite frankly a miracle I was even able to turn it on. Once I had everything set up, I asked Theo to go get Cory from his room.

The Phillips boys descended the stairs together, entering the living room turned gallery exhibit.  I had Van Gogh’s The Starry Night projected across the whole space, swirling colors stretching over the coffee table, the walls, the fireplace, and myself. It wasn’t as impressive as the actual thing, but I’d definitely give myself an A for effort.

Besides, the look on Cory’s face was priceless.

“Whoa,” he gasped, rushing over to take his spot on the couch.

“Would you like to know an interesting fact about this painting?” I asked him.

“Yeah!”

“Many are unaware of this, but this painting actually depicts Van Gogh’s view from his room in a mental asylum. He had an unfortunate mental breakdown in 1888. His actual window had iron bars across the front, but he decided to leave those out to better capture the magnificence of the morning stars.”

Theo grunted. “That’s a depressing fact.”

“Most facts about the art world tend to be.”

“Is that because artists feel the need to suffer for their work?” Theo asked.

I clicked my tongue. “If you have questions, you need to raise your hand.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Cory added. “Miss Cruise is talking.”

Theo put his hands up in mock surrender.

I clicked a button on the ancient remote control that toggled between slides on the projector, switching the image to another one of the painter’s works, The Potato Eaters. Darker tones and solemn figures filled the space, displaying a very different style to what many associated with Van Gogh’s more colorful works.

“Mr. Phillips,” I said, “it’s your turn.”

Theo pulled a cue card from out of his pocket. “‘In the beginning of his career, he focused primarily on still lifes. His unconventional painting style got him in trouble with his art teacher. As a result, he wound up repeating a year.’”

Cory beamed from ear to ear, either impressed that his father was participating, entertained by the fact that Van Gogh was such a rebel, or perhaps a combination of both.

I clicked through to the next slide and then the next and then the next. Theo and I took turns listing off interesting facts, pausing every now and again at Cory’s request so he could better study the paintings projected onto the walls. I arranged Van Gogh’s works in chronological order, helping to demonstrate how his style changed over time, lending itself to the development of the Impressionist Era.

Cory was over the moon by the end of the presentation, practically buzzing with excitement.

“Did you like it?” Theo asked him.

“Yes!” he cheered. “That was awesome. Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Miss Cruise.”

I smiled, pleased that I was able to help Cory one last time. “You’re very welcome.”