When they arrived there, all the employees were lined up on the steps. When Tinsley got out of the SUV, they began to clap and she nearly lost the battle to maintain her composure. She might be dubbed the new badass of the family, but she was still sensitive. And this . . . this was as sensitive and emotional as it would ever get.
Paxton took her hand in his as they walked up the steps to the museum. She shook hands with all the employees as they made their way inside. Tinsley followed Rachel through the lobby and then into an expansive exhibit room. Tinsley stopped in her tracks as she placed her hands over her mouth. It was beautiful. They’d cleaned the frames and replaced several of them after restoring the art by delicately cleaning the canvases. The lighting was perfect and the pieces looked . . . happy. They knew they were home.
“The family is arriving in fifteen minutes. The press will arrive in two hours.”
“Does the family know?” Tinsley asked Rachel.
Rachel shook her head. “No, they do not. I couldn’t find the words to tell them, so instead I told them they’d won a private tour of a new exhibit, organized by an American, that I thought they’d love. I still don’t think I can find the words.”
Tinsley took a deep breath and watched Olivia, Ryker, and Paxton walk a slow circle of the room. She watched them taking in the art and was moved just from that.
Tinsley took a moment to stop before each painting to talk with them. They’d been her constant companions these last months.
“Is that a Monet?” Paxton asked as he joined her.
Tinsley laughed and swiped at a tear. “Manet. You know that.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a Monet.”
“They’re here!” Rachel gasped as she pulled herself together. “Come with me.” She motioned for the group to follow her. Rachel reached back and pulled Tinsley to come stand with her in the lobby.
Tinsley didn’t realize she was holding her breath until Paxton reminded her to relax. Through the open door, they saw the minivan’s side door open. A man and woman in their early seventies got out of the front of the minivan to help two elderly men from the back seats. The taller of the two had a walker and the other used a cane. They were dressed in suits and smiled up at the two people helping them out of the van. Soon, several vehicles pulled in behind the minivan and a lot of people emerged from them. There were young children, teenagers, college students, thirty-somethings, and more retirement-aged couples. They all came over and hugged the two elderly men and each other. They were smiling, laughing, and several of the teens rolled their eyes and turned their attention back to their phones. Ah, teenagers, the same in every country.
Tinsley felt Paxton’s hand come up to the small of her back reassuringly. It was then she realized she was shaking. It seemed an age for the large family to make it to the lobby.
“Welcome!” Rachel called out, her voice cracking as she tried to keep it together. “I’m Rachel Katz. I’m the curator of the museum and this is Tinsley Faulkner. She’s a painter from South Carolina, in America. She’s put together this exhibit for you to enjoy today.”
“Thank you for having us. My family loves art. It is in our blood,” the old man with the walker said. He held out his hand for her and Tinsley had to bite her lip to maintain her composure when she saw the old black numbers from a concentration camp tattooed onto his arm. “I’m Elek Alder and this is my younger brother, Sandor. You said it was okay to invite the whole family.” Elek laughed as he gestured to the thirty-plus people behind him and Sandor. “These are our children, our grandchildren, and our great-grandchildren.”
“It’s an honor to meet you all,” Tinsley said as a couple of heads popped up at her strange-sounding accent. “This is my fiancé, Paxton Kendry, my cousin, Ryker Faulkner, and my friend, Olivia Townsend.” Tinsley made the introductions and everyone shook hands. Now it was time to finish what she’d started. “I asked Rachel to invite you here today to be the first to see the collection I’ve put together. Please come this way.”
Rachel offered her arm to Sandor as Elek walked next to Tinsley into the exhibit room. The brothers walked three steps inside the door before they both stopped.
“Elek, is this—” Sandor sputtered as he reached out and grabbed his brother’s arm. It was then Tinsley saw a matching black tattoo on Sandor’s arm.
Elek turned to her, tears streaming down his face. He wavered and Paxton was there to hold him up. His son rushed forward with a chair and someone who must be Sandor’s son similarly brought him a chair.
“Papa, what is it?” one of the sons asked worriedly as the two brothers clung to each other.
Elek’s hand reached out and clasped her wrist. “You did this? Where did you… How?”
“Papa? What is going on? What did this woman do?” a daughter asked Elek in alarm.
Tinsley couldn’t answer. She only could nod. Elek pulled her in front of him and Sandor and then tugged her downward. When she was on her knees in front of them, the men enveloped her in a hug as they all cried together. This is why she had done it. The paintings were finally reunited with their family. She wasn’t sure how long the brothers held her and cried, but when they finally released their grip on her, her shirt was soaked with tears.
“Can we see it?” Elek asked.
“Of course, Mr. Alder. It’s yours. I brought it home for you,” Tinsley said softly, but it was loud enough for the family to hear.
“Ours? I don’t understand. Papa, what’s going on?” the daughter asked.
Elek
