The next morning, Duncan went to the university to go over a paper with a student. After breakfast, Richie went back to the photo album to find the picture he had chosen again. Twenty minutes later, Tessa found him staring at it.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I don't think I'm going to do the art show," Richie mumbled.

"Why not?" Tessa crouched next to him on the floor.

"I'm not an artist. I just pretend I am."

"Why would you say that? Was that a pretend painting you sold yesterday?"

"That doesn't make me an artist."

"You're right. Selling your work doesn't make you an artist. having the heart makes you an artist. Richie, you have the heart and you have the talent. Why don't you see that?"

"Because I'm no good."

"Yes, you are! Richie, both your art teacher and myself think you do wonderfully. And that woman yesterday at the store spent a lot of money on one of your pieces. She thinks you are a good artist--she even made you sign the piece! Why would she ask a bad artist to do that?"

"I'm not any good," he insisted

"Did someone tell you that you were a bad artist?"

"No. I just am."

"Somebody had to tell you; yesterday you were so excited."

"Nobody told me. I just know I am, okay?"

"Well, what did Duncan say when you told him about the art show? I'm sure he likes your work." Richie turned away and didn't answer. "Surely you talked to him about it. What did he say?" Richie didn't answer, but wrapped his arms around himself. A sure sign there was something he wasn't saying. "What did he say to you?" she pressed.

"He said I'm just a kid who fancies himself an artist. then he told me to go to bed."

"Are you sure you didn't misunderstand?"

"Pretty sure, Mom."

"Well, he was wrong. You are an artist. If you like what you're doing then you should be in the show. If you honestly don't want to do it. because YOU don't want to do it, then don't. But I would be very proud if you did." She put her arms around him. "It's up to you. Don't listen to what anyone says."

"Not even you?"

"Not even me. You have to do this for yourself. Okay, petit?"

"Okay."

An hour later, Richie was finishing his sketch of the photo of the French countryside he had found.

"We used to picnic there," Tessa said looking over his shoulder at what he was drawing.

"Yeah?" Richie asked, looking up. Usually he hated people looking over his shoulder at his work without asking, but when it was Tessa, it was more than okay.

"Yes, Maman would pack a basket with baguettes and cheeses and wine and we would sit under that tree all afternoon."

"How very 'Little House on the Prairie.'"

"Papa would tell us stories about his childhood."

Richie put his sketchbook and pencil down. "You'd just sit around all day and talk?" he asked, the idea was obviously new to him.

"Oui." Tessa smiled at him.

Richie shook his head and grinned. "Crazy French and their picnics."

"Have you never been on a picnic?"

"I don't think so." Richie said searching his memory.

"Then we will. today," Tessa decided.

"A picnic?"

"Yes. I will phone Duncan and maybe he can meet us. It will be fun."

"A picnic?"

"And we can paint!" she added gleefully.

"A picnic?"

"I will make lunch. You pack a canvas and your paints. I will help you with your landscapes."

"A picnic?"

"Yes, Richie, a picnic. Now go get ready."

A couple hours later, Tessa and Richie were in the car on their way to the park. Duncan was not with them as he claimed he was too busy with students. So, Tessa took Richie to a secluded, sun lit area where they settled down to an early lunch.

"I'm going to do the show," Richie told her, trying to steal a cookie before he finished his sandwich.

"You are?" she replied. She knew he would once he realized the only person he was trying to please was himself. "I was hoping you would," she added taking the cookie from him. "I think you have a real talent."

"Mr. Allen says it must be genetic," Richie said with a shy grin.

Tessa just smiled and patted his knee. When they were done eating she showed Richie different techniques for painting tress to give them more depth. The two stood huddled around the canvas, laughing and talking until the light began to fade and the temperature dropped. They packed everything again and beat Duncan home by five minutes. Tessa wanted to talk to Duncan before he and Richie got the chance to, so she sent Richie out to get Chinese.

"Hey, Tessa," Duncan greeted with a smile. "How was the picnic?"

"It was Richie's first. And we had a lot of fun," she answered angrily.

"Then why are you so mad?"

"How dare you tell Richie he has no talent?!" she fumed. "Do you know that he wanted to drop out of the art show because of you?"

"He's in an art show?" Duncan asked.

"Do you not listen to what he says? That's all he could talk about last night! And this morning he wanted to drop out because of what you said to him!"

"I told him to go to bed; it was nearly one in the morning!" Duncan defended.

"After telling him he's not a real artist. All of a sudden it didn't matter what I or Mr. Allen or the customers said. you said he had no talent so he wanted to quit! You're his father you're supposed to be encouraging him!"

"I do encourage him! I taught him how to drive; I taught him to use the computer; I took him to the park almost every day to get him ready for baseball tryouts. I'm the one who found out he could draw in the first place! Don't tell me I don't encourage him!"

"Fine, then stop ignoring him!" Tessa spat. "You are his first real father; how you treat him will be how he treats his children. Just pay attention to him!"

"He's 19; he doesn't need mommy and daddy fussing over him all the time!"

"He's never had anyone fussing over him all the time! He needs it! His whole life, he has been either ignored or abused. He has a real talent, Duncan, real promise. But he needs to be reminded of it!"

Duncan was about to counter when they heard Richie pull up in the driveway.

"I'll talk to him," Duncan promised calmly.

Richie entered the kitchen smiling broadly as he announced something in slightly off Chinese.

"What did you say?" Duncan asked in amusement.

Richie repeated it. "Did I say it wrong?"

"I don't think you did," Duncan commented with a smile. "But don't ever say it again."

"What does it mean?"

"Who taught you that?"

"One of the cooks. What does it mean?"

"Assuming you said it right, he told you to say that you're too old to be a virgin and are looking for a woman to help you on your quest for manhood. So don't say it again."

"Even if I wanted to, I can't remember it."

Tessa got plates out and Duncan got drinks while Richie put the food on the table.

"Richie," Duncan said after they had all started eating. "I want to apologize for being so short with you last night. I was tired and frustrated and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have cut you off when you tried to tell me about your art show. But I'd like to hear about it now."

Richie grinned around a mouthful of fried rice. "You really wanna hear about it?" he asked after he swallowed.

"Of course I do."

"Well, it's for the whole city. Each school gets three students go be in it. And Mr. Allen says I was the first person he thought of. He wants my Scottish painting and I get to do another one too."

"You have a Scottish painting?" Duncan asked proudly.

"Yeah."

"What's your second painting going to be?" Tessa asked.

"A French picnic. I got the idea today. I was just going to do a landscape but decided to put a picnic in, too. I don't know if I'm going to put the family in. it may just be the basket and food and stuff. or maybe it will be at night and there can be candles and wine. Do a romantic thing."

They fell into silence. "Oh!" Tessa exclaimed suddenly. "Petit, tell your Papa what happened yesterday." Richie snorted into his bell pepper beef. "What?" Tessa asked.

"Tell your Papa what happened yesterday," Richie imitated with a grin.

"Well, tell him," Tessa insisted, not getting what the teen found so funny.

"Well.Papa.I sold my first painting yesterday."

"That's great, Richie! Which one?"

"Nothing spectacular. just a."

"Hang on, I hear my phone," Duncan excused himself. "Congratulations," he added squeezing Richie's shoulder as he passed him on the way to his office.

"See he doesn't think you have no talent," Tessa told him with a smile. "He was just. distracted last night."

"Yeah," Richie sighed. 'He's always distracted,' he thought.

After cleaning up after dinner, Richie went up stairs to read more of 'To Kill a Mockingbird'. After an hour he decided to go see if Duncan was willing to help him. He went downstairs and knocked softly on Duncan's door.

"Come in."

Richie went into the office. "Hey, Dad."

"Hey, Rich. What do you need?" Duncan asked, not looking up.

"I was wondering if you could help me with this book. I get it, but I think I'm missing something. What does it have to do with mockingbirds?"

"How far along are you?"

"Five chapters."

"Then you haven't gotten to the mockingbird part yet. It's closer to the end."

"Then why is it in the title?" Richie asked.

"Because it's what the book is about."

"If it's what the book is about, why is it not until the end?"

Duncan sighed. "Richie, you just have to read it to find out. It's not about a literal mockingbird.it's figurative."

"It's complicated that's what it is."

"If you want something more on your level, you can always try Dr. Seuss," Duncan told him. Richie didn't move or say anything. It took Duncan a second to figure out why. "Richie."

"Look, I know I'm not the smartest kid out there." Richie started.

"No, Rich..."

"But I try."

"I know you do," Duncan insisted. "And that's all we ask of you. I didn't mean to say you were stupid, because you're not. You make grades just as high as any normal kid out there."

"Normal? I'm not normal?"

"I didn't mean that either. Just. you have to work harder sometimes to understand things and you're doing very well. You have good grades, you try hard, and you still have time for little side things like baseball and painting."

"So painting is just a little side thing? I have no chance at it?" Richie asked.

Duncan sighed. "Richie. you are smart and you are talented. Things don't always come that easy to you, but you don't let that get you down. You always try. And that's very important. Do you get what I'm saying?" Richie nodded mutely. "Okay," Duncan smiled. "Why don't you go work some more on that book and that way, later on when you have trouble with it, there will be more material to explain it with, alright?"

"Kay."

Richie went out to the living room and stared at the blank TV screen.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Tessa asked sitting beside him.

"Do you think it's too late to change books?" Richie asked her holding out his copy of 'To Kill a Mockingbird'.

"What would you like to change to?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "Green Eggs and Ham?"

Tessa smiled. "You are far too old for those books. They are way too easy."

"That's not what Dad said."

Tessa tried to hide her displeasure. "I'm sure he just misspoke."

"He must have misspoked a whole lot."

"Misspoken," she corrected before she could stop herself.

"See? I don't even talk right! How am I supposed to understand an award winning book about figurative birds?"

"You were just too caught up to think about what you were saying. I'm sure if you weren't so upset you wouldn't have had a problem. I'll tell you what. Ask your teacher your questions on Monday and keep trying. If by Friday you still want a new book, we'll talk, okay?"

"Okay."

"Now, why don't you go up and relax. Don't worry about school work, just go relax until bedtime." To emphasize her point Tessa took his book from him.

"Okay." Richie went upstairs and put in a computer game. He blew up aliens until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.