#Chapter 160: A Scene Worth Painting

Moana

On the day of the painting class, Ella and I were both elated. Edrick kept his promise and took the day off of work, and after breakfast we were on our way.

The class was held in a beautiful park in the uptown area of the city by a lake. Edrick parked the car on the street and we each held one of Ella’s hands as we walked over. I couldn’t help but smile as we approached, with my plein air easel folded up and tucked under my arm. The air that day was beautiful with a nice breeze, and as we approached the little lake I could see that it was teeming with all sorts of wildlife: ducks swimming around in search of breadcrumbs, little frogs jumping off of lily pads, and turtles sunning themselves on floating logs. The lake was surrounded by large weeping willow trees whose long fronds swayed in the breeze. It really was like a picture straight out of a storybook.

As we approached, there was already a group of other families gathered by the picnic area. A woman was standing at the front of the group and setting up a demonstration easel facing the lake, and while she did, I noticed that the other children were running around like wild little animals.

I didn’t blame the children for acting so rambunctiously. There was a spread laid out on one of the tables filled with all kinds of fruit and sweets, and it seemed as though the children already had their fair share of sugar. Even Ella, who normally would have been excited to play with other kids, halted in her tracks and looked up at Edrick and me with an apprehensive look on her little face. Even she was a bit taken aback by the sheer amount of energy surrounding the place; it seemed like some of the parents were genuinely trying to wrangle their children, but some other parents also seemed to be ignoring their kids as though this was more of a romantic date for them to go on while their kids could run amok around the lake.

“Hello!” the teacher called, waving at us excitedly as we walked up to join the group. She looked down at my easel, and her smile widened. “It looks like you brought your own supplies! Are you a painter?”

I felt myself blush as the other attendees turned to look at me. A couple of werewolf women gave me snide looks. I could only imagine what they were thinking about a family of a wealthy and famous CEO with his supposedly human fiancee, their half-breed daughter and the half-breed baby growing in her belly. With our security guard standing a little ways away and the fact that our faces had been plastered all over the news recently, I knew that the other couples recognized us. The teacher, however, thankfully treated us just like everyone else with kindness and warmth.

I shrugged in response to the teacher’s question. “I wouldn’t consider myself much of an artist, but I do draw and paint sometimes,” I said, wanting to be humble.

lie!” Ella suddenly chimed in. “She’s really good at art! She even teaches me how

the class.” She said it in a joking manner, but

even got her own miniature easel, which was placed next to Edrick’s. I was slightly behind the two of them, which gave me the perfect

rambunctious. The teacher patiently tried to get their attention, but it didn’t seem to be working since most of the parents weren’t paying much attention. I felt a little bit bad about it as I watched her get somewhat frustrated as she tried to get them to settle down so

and Ella both shot me a concerned

kids,” I said, approaching the group of children who were now on the verge of wrestling in the dirt next

I had always been good with kids. I didn’t know why, although now that I knew I was a werewolf I had begun to wonder if it was an ability of mine.

said with a

looked at me with shock.

began the lesson, which was to paint a scene of the lake in front of us. She began by teaching everyone how to paint the perspective of the lake, using simple terminology to

hard on their paintings, and I noticed now for the first time that they were both left-handed. Between the little bow on Ella’s sun hat and the way that Edrick’s white shirt rippled in the breeze,

added a little something extra to

little angels now that they were calm, and Ella even seemed to make friends. When we were finished, the teacher came around and looked at everyone’s paintings. She stopped in front of everyone’s easels and pointed out to the class how beautifully they did — she even did the same in front of a toddler’s easel, which was just a giant splotch of color. It made me smile, and it made me want to come

as she looked at what I had painted; I

looked over

being too humble earlier. I love how you added something special to

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