Chapter 206: Frost Gallery

Thursday, January 19th, Evening

Gallery Openings are not too different from city to city, Lucas noted. The main difference between most big cities was the level of notoriety. He nodded, behind the wheel of the SUV he borrowed from Brooke, a Mercedes-Maybach GLS600. He felt it was too showy for him, but she insisted since there will be press, and he is, in his way, a big deal around here.

Finally, Lucas pulled the SUV to the valet parking. A jacketed attendant held the door open for Lucas, and they exchanged the key fob for a valet ticket. Lucas walked over to the passenger side of the SUV. He waited for a moment while Sawyer was also helped out of the SUV and walked over to him.

Lucas studied his baby daughter walk towards him. He was amazed at how well she walked in high heels, which brought her height close enough to his. She and Brooke spent hours picking out what she would wear. Lucas sighed, Brooke did her magic, Sawyer looked lovely, and maybe looking a little too old for her fifteen years of age, but she did look beautiful.

A tear came to his eye. In the right light, Sawyer could easily be mistaken for Peyton. They looked so much alike. Also, he couldn't believe that in just a few months, Sawyer, his baby, would be sixteen-years-old and asking for a driver's license and a car.

"Dad, what are you looking at?" Sawyer asked as she joined them.

"Just thinking about…" Lucas said.

Sawyer wrapped her arm around his, "I know," she said softly. Lucas nodded and led her to the front of the gallery. There were just a few people from the local news outlets, only as a matter of course. This gallery wasn't a big deal.

Once in the door, Lucas presented his invite. The person at the door checked it against the list and gave him a nod. "Welcome to the Frost Gallery, Mister Scott," they said.

"So, how many paintings are from Mom?" Sawyer asked.

"About a half-dozen to dozen, if they used them all," Lucas said.

"Is this why you brought me instead of Aunt Brooke?" Sawyer asked.

"What about you, Dad?" Sawyer asked.

"What about me?" Lucas asked.

"You've not written in four years, will this inspire you?" Sawyer asked.

"I'm not sure if I'll write again," Lucas said.

Sawyer nodded and looked at the first painting they came across. She looked at the art of the nearby landscape.

"Lucas, how are you doing?" someone said with a deep voice.

Lucas and Sawyer turned to look at the man. The man stood six-foot-one-inch tall, with brown eyes and dirty-blonde hair, and looked them over with a smile.

"Alex, how are you doing?" Lucas asked.

"I'm doing well," the man named Alex said and looked at Sawyer, "You must be Sawyer."

"Yes, I am, and you are?" Sawyer asked.

"Sawyer, this is Mister Alex Frost, he runs the gallery," Lucas said.

"Oh, okay, nice to meet you, Mister Frost," Sawyer said and offered her hand. Alex took hold of it and kissed it.

"Please, call me Alex," Alex said.

Sawyer nodded, "Okay, Alex, well, I'm going to get something to drink," she said, and walked away.

"God, Lucas, she looks so much like Peyton," Alex said.

Lucas nodded, "Yeah, for some reason, my youngest daughters look like their mom," he said.

"Is she as good an artist as her mom?" Alex asked.

Lucas shrugged, "She was into art at one time, but she seems to be directing her energies elsewhere," he said.

"Yeah, it's hard to believe," Alex said.

"We've always allowed them to follow their energies to where they wanted to go," Lucas said.

"That made no sense," Alex said.

"Let them find their path," Lucas said.

"Okay, that makes sense now," Alex said.

Lucas nodded.

"So, who was the portrait of?" Alex asked.

"Which portrait?" Lucas asked.

"It was among the canvases you sent over," Alex said.

"I'm not sure, show me," Lucas said.

Alex nodded and led Lucas to the portrait, which was now in a beautiful frame. Lucas looked over the painting and the young, light blonde-haired young woman. Lucas looked it over.

"There was no name for it on the providence you provided. So, we just called it Untitled, a portrait of a young woman," Alex said.

Lucas nodded and studied the portrait. "It's a beautiful work," he said.

"It's some of Peyton's best work," Alex said, "That's why we chose to display it."

Lucas nodded, "Yes, yes it is," he said.

"I'll let you be," Alex said, "I have other people to meet and greet." He rolled his eyes.

"Never truer words said," Lucas said with a smile, and he watched Alex walk away. Lucas nodded and turned his attention back to the portrait on the wall. Sawyer walked over and handed Lucas a drink. Lucas took it and looked it over; he swirled around the liquid and ice.

"What is it?" Lucas asked.

"Cola of some sort," Sawyer said.

"Thanks," Lucas said.

"Well, for now, I need you sober enough to drive me home," Sawyer said.

Lucas nodded, "You remember that?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do, but it's only for now," Sawyer said.

"For now?" Lucas asked.

"Well, until I get my license," Sawyer said.

Lucas chuckled and nodded, "Of course," he said.

Sawyer nodded and looked at the portrait, "So, what are we looking at?" she asked.

Lucas looked at his daughter, "This portrait I found in your mom's collection. There was very little information about," he said.

"Yeah?" Sawyer asked.

"Alex described it as some of the best work of your mom's, but it was untitled, so he named it untitled, a portrait of a young woman," Lucas said.

Sawyer nodded and looked at the portrait. Her eyes studied the subdue brush strokes, and the fine line work. She noticed the even more subdued line down the midline of the face. It was only noticeable if you knew to look for it. Sawyer nodded and made a note of the slight difference in the nose from the left and right side.

With a nod, Sawyer turned to her dad. "I believe it's a self-portrait done based on an old photo of her," Sawyer said.

"But she didn't sign it, which is weird," Lucas said.

"How so?" Sawyer asked, with a tilt in her head.

"She always signed her work," Lucas said.

"I didn't know that," Sawyer said and looked into one corner of the portrait to see the subdue signature, hidden by the back groundwork.