Runaway Bride (Across the Stars: Book 2) (7 page)

Dr. Carter gave a slight shake of his head and turned to Lexie.  “Give Nick our regards.”

Lexie nodded and waited for them to leave before she went with Mark to the side of the large room.

“I’m sorry, Lexie,” Mark whispered.

“For what?” she asked, her attention going back to him.

“I shouldn’t have made the whole ‘two minutes until we get wine and cheese’ comment.  It wasn’t right of me to be sarcastic.”

“Don’t worry about it.  They won’t even remember you or what you said tomorrow.  They’re pretty much stuck in their own world.”

“Yeah, but I have to remember that at places like this, the less said, the better.”

“Don’t worry about it.  I thought you were funny.” She gestured to the veiled paintings in the middle of the room.  “Let’s see how many paintings are going to be unveiled tonight.” She led him to four paintings which were covered.

“Do you know what she painted?” he whispered.

“No.  All I know is that Nick said we should tell her that her choice in colors is excellent.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

“Lexie, darling, where is Nick?” a woman asked from behind her.

Lexie and Mark turned around and Lexie offered a polite smile.  She recognized the woman, but for the life of her, she couldn’t remember which doctor this woman was.  “Oh, hi.  Nick couldn’t make it tonight.  He had to go in for surgery.”

“What a terrible shame.” The woman rubbed Lexie’s arm in sympathy.  “But it’s the price you pay when you’re married to a doctor.  Is this your brother?”

Lexie glanced at Mark.  “No.  He’s Mark Tanner, a friend.”

“Really?  Do you know Nick?” the woman asked him.

“No, I don’t.  I work with Lexie’s brother-in-law.”

“I don’t believe Lexie mentioned what her brother-in-law does.”

“I’m a software engineer at Eglin Air Force Base,” Mark replied, extending his hand toward her.

She shook his hand.  “Doctor Maxwell.  I specialize in neurological disorders.”

“So you’re in charge of figuring out what’s wrong with people?” Mark joked.

She frowned.  “I don’t understand.”

“I was kidding.  You know, because you deal with the brain and disorders.”

“I happen to take my job very seriously, Mark.  Neurological disorders are no laughing matter.  We’re talking about people—real people—with problems that are so severe that some of them won’t ever recover from them.”

Lexie’s eyes grew wide.  Now she remembered Doctor Maxwell.  Nick had warned her that the woman had no sense of humor and that she must never try to tell her a joke.

Mark adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.  “I’m sorry.  I meant no disrespect.”

Doctor Maxwell relaxed.  “See that you don’t err again.” She turned to Lexie.  “My dear, I’m looking forward to attending your wedding.  Nick says you’ll have a live orchestra featuring Bach.”

“Yes, it was my mother’s idea,” Lexie said, relieved the focus was no longer on Mark.  “Nick loves Bach.”

“Nick has excellent taste.  Your mother is wise to listen to him.  And you are fortunate to be marrying him.  He’s the best heart surgeon we have in the hospital.”

Unsure of how to respond to that, she said, “Thank you.” After the doctor gave her another smile and left, she looked at Mark.  “I should have warned you that tonight could be brutal for you, as well as for me,” she whispered.  “I’m sorry.”

“No, she was right.  I should be more careful in what I say, especially in a place like this.  Why don’t we take a look at some of the paintings already on display?”

As she followed him to the nearest wall, she couldn’t help but feel bad for him.  She glanced around to make sure no one was within hearing distance and leaned closer to him.  “I know you weren’t making fun of people who have neurological problems.”

He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze.  “It’s alright, Lexie.  I’m fine.” With a smile, he squeezed her hand again and let it go.  “Now, what are we supposed to do when we’re looking at this painting?  Should we say what we think it is?”

“Actually, we’re not supposed to do much talking at all.  We’re supposed to soak in the emotional experience of looking at the painting.”

“That’s it?”

“My mother and Nick had all this material on etiquette for tonight, but it basically boiled down to smile, nod and be quiet.”

“I should do more quiet.  Talking has only been getting me into trouble.”

“Even when you’re quiet, you have to wonder if someone mistakes your silence for lack of interest.  Sometimes you just can’t win.”

He nodded, and they turned their attention to the different paintings in the gallery.

Chapter Seven

Ten minutes later, Lexie was trying to make sense of the painting in front of her.  The scattered circles of various sizes formed a larger picture, but she couldn’t tell what the larger picture was supposed to be.  She squinted at it and willed the image to come to her.  When it didn’t work, she went over to the next painting which was an assortment of colors thrown together.  Fortunately, the one further down from that was of a group of people surrounding a lake, so she knew what it was supposed to be.

“Would you like some wine?” a server asked her.

Lexie turned to the woman and accepted the glass of red wine.  “Thank you.”

As Mark accepted a glass, the server asked, “Isn’t that a powerful statement the artist is making?”

Lexie studied the painting with the circles.  What was it the server saw that she didn’t?  She wanted to ask but was afraid she’d show her ignorance in this area.

Mark sipped his wine and nodded.  “Yes.  It’s powerful indeed.”

“Out of everything in this gallery, this is the only one that speaks of the never ending cycle of raw anger and confusion,” the server whispered with an excited grin.  “I just love it.  The one down that hall with the black and white motif is also good.  You’ll enjoy it when you see it.”

Lexie looked at Mark.

After the server left, he softly said, “I thought it was supposed to be an appreciation of geometry.”

Her lips curled up.  “I think it can be whatever we want it to be.”

“What do you see?”

“A bunch of circles.” She motioned to the painting with the assortment of colors.  “That’s a bunch of colors.  And that,” she pointed to the painting of the people and lake, “is a bunch of people relaxing at the lake.  Personally, I think that’s the best one here.”

“Excuse me!  May I have everyone’s attention?” a man called out.

She and Mark walked over to the group that was gathering around the four veiled paintings.  They waited for the man who stood by the paintings to speak, and she scanned the three women and one man who were with him.  She guessed that one of the women was Mrs. Morris.  She hadn’t seen Mrs. Morris before and since Nick wanted her to congratulate Mrs. Morris on the colors in her painting, she had to make sure she approached the right woman.  When the man introduced the artists, she saw that Mrs. Morris was an older woman, probably in her late fifties.  She seemed pleasant enough.  Maybe talking to her wouldn’t be as intimidating as she feared it would be.

“Welcome to ‘A Walk Through Time’,” the man began.  “Tonight we are featuring time period paintings from the best artists in the area.”

As he continued with his spiel, Lexie sipped her wine and nibbled some cheese and crackers a server handed her.  She tried to pay attention to what the man was saying, but he rambled off information about a couple of famous local paintings she didn’t know about and threw out fancy art terms she hadn’t heard either.  Taking another sip of her wine, she ventured a look at Mark whose eyes seemed to glaze over.  Relieved that she wasn’t the only one who was bored, she pretended to listen to the rest of the speech.  At the end, he finally got around to presenting the paintings.

Curious to see what Mrs. Morris had painted, Lexie stepped to the side so she could see around the person in front of her.  The man removed the cloth from Mrs. Morris’ painting.  Several people in the crowd gasped in awe and Lexie wondered what they saw that she didn’t.  There was a blend of light brown and green colors which surrounded a large white blob with black dots on it.

“Tamara Morris’
Colosseum
embraces the confliction of the Roman Empire when it was at the height of its glory,” the man said and then went on to discuss why the painting was an asset to the gallery.

Now Lexie understood why Mrs. Morris wasn’t sure about the colors she chose.  The colors made no sense to her.  She hadn’t even realized the white blob on the canvas was the
Colosseum
.  She got that the green and brown colors were symbolic of the “muddied past of the Roman gladiator games,” as the man put it.  But for the life of her, she couldn’t see it.  It looked like a mess.  She bit her lower lip and ventured a glance at the others who seemed impressed with the painting.  What was she thinking in coming here?  These people were way out of her league.  How could she spend the rest of her life trying to figure out what to say to make Nick look good?

Mark leaned toward her and whispered, “Does Mrs. Morris know someone who works here?”

“I think she’s friends with the owner’s wife,” she replied in his ear.

“Ah, that explains it.”

By the tone in his voice, she understood that he didn’t like the painting any more than she did.  What a relief.  Even if everyone thought the painting was good, it was nice to know that one person agreed with her.  But that didn’t change the fact that she had to find a way to compliment Mrs. Morris.  If she didn’t, Nick wouldn’t be happy.

When the man encouraged everyone to come up and congratulate the artists, she gripped her purse and tried to think of a way to be honest but nice.  She really didn’t want to come out and lie.  “I have to talk to her,” she told Mark.  “Do you want to come with me?”

“Sure.”

Glad she didn’t have to talk to her alone, Lexie guided Mark to the line of people who’d assembled to talk to Mrs. Morris.  She listened to what they chose to compliment her on in hopes of getting a good idea of what she might say, but nothing seemed to fit.  And before she knew it, they were in front of Mrs. Morris who was grinning from ear to ear.

“Hi, Mrs. Morris,” Lexie began and extended her hand, “I’m Lexie Rogers.  I’m engaged to Doctor Hammond.”

“Oh yes,” she replied, shaking her hand.  “Nick mentioned I’d get a chance to meet you tonight.  He’s a hard one to pin down.  He wouldn’t marry just anyone.  Many women would die to be in your shoes.  Not me, of course.  I love my husband.”

“Yes, I hear that many women adore him,” Lexie said.

“It’s a shame he couldn’t be here tonight.  I heard he got called in for surgery.”

“Yes, he did.”

“It’s to be expected.  He’s the best heart surgeon at the hospital.  You don’t trust a serious medical issue to just anyone.”

“Of course.  The patients are fortunate to have him.” If she knew anyone who needed heart surgery, she’d recommend him in a heartbeat.  There was no denying his skills.  Before Mrs. Morris could ask about Mark, she gestured to him.   “Anyway, since Nick couldn’t make it, I brought a friend.”

“Oh?  Are you a friend of Nick’s as well?” Mrs. Morris asked.

“I’m afraid I haven’t met him yet,” Mark replied as he shook her hand.

“That’s a shame,” Mrs. Morris said.  “He’s like a breath of fresh air.  You have to meet him.  He’s so intelligent for a man his age.  It’s hard to find someone like him.  My husband says of all the doctors he knows, he’s the one going places.” She patted Mark’s shoulder.  “You’ll adore him if you meet him.  We all do.  So,” she turned her attention back to Lexie, “what do you think of my art?”

“Oh, well…” So much for the hope that Mrs. Morris would be so absorbed in talking about Nick that she’d forget about the painting.  “It’s,” she glanced the painting, “it’s…  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Right.  It’s original,” Mark added.  “It’s nice to see something in this gallery that is different from the other things that’s already been done.”

Mrs. Morris’ smile widened.  “You know, I was hoping for that.  I wanted people to remember it, and I thought if I did something that hasn’t been done, it would be unforgettable.”

“You succeeded.”

“Thank you.”

Lexie silently thanked Mark for coming up with the right words, and better yet, Nick would be glad to hear Mrs. Morris was happy.  As the people behind them started talking to Mrs. Morris, Lexie led Mark away from her.  “See?  You know the right things to say,” she told him.

“I think that depends on who you talk to.  I didn’t do so hot with the Carters or Doctor Maxwell.”

“Only because they don’t have a sense of humor.  Fortunately, Mrs. Morris was nice.” Her cell phone rang.  She didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know it was Nick.  Of course, he’d be interested in knowing how everything was going.  She reached for the phone in her purse.  “I better take this.  I’ll be back.” Mark nodded, and she headed for a quiet spot in the corner of the room.  She put the phone to her ear.  “Hi, Nick.  How was the surgery?”

“It went well.  The boy will live.”

“That’s great.”

“I just told his parents the good news.” After a moment of silence, he continued, “How are things going over there?”

“Well, I saw Mrs. Morris’ painting, and she seemed pleased with what Mark told her.”

“Mark?”

“The friend who’s with me.”

“Oh.  I don’t recall hearing about him before.”

She wasn’t sure if she detected a hint of jealousy in his voice or mild curiosity.  Brushing back a strand of her hair, she glanced at Mark who was accepting a cube of cheese from one of the servers.  “Yeah, he’s my brother-in-law’s friend.  I met him while my mother was trying to surprise my sister with a wedding.”

Nick chuckled.  “I remember hearing about that.  Your sister should have gone along with it.  Your mother would have done better than a gazebo wedding on the beach.”

“I don’t know.  It was a small affair, but it was sweet.  My sister and her husband love each other.”

“You talked to Mrs. Morris.  Did you tell her you liked her choice in colors?”

Surprised he’d switched topics so unexpectedly, she cleared her throat.  “Actually, no.  The conversation didn’t get that far.  She spent most of it talking about you and what a great doctor you are.”

“Really?”

Noting the pleased tone in his voice, she added, “Yes.  She thinks very highly of you.”

“And you made me look good, right?”

“I think so.  She seemed to like the fact that we called her painting original.”

He hesitated.  “When you say ‘original,’ do you mean that in a good way?”

“Well, there are no other paintings in the gallery that look like it.”

“I hope she thinks you liked it.”

“I just don’t get art, Nick.  There was a lot of symbolism in it, and I’m not the kind of person who sees that kind of thing when I look at paintings.”

“We’ll have to work on that.  Don’t despair, Lexie.  This is the kind of thing that can be taught.  You just need to know what to look for.”

“Okay.”

“What colors did she use?”

“Brown and green.  They swirled around the
Colosseum
.”

“That’s easy.  The colors and the fact that they’re swirling represent the conflict between the good and bad of Rome’s past.  It sounds like a good choice in colors.  Make sure to tell her you appreciate that about her work.”

“Okay.” She turned her gaze back to Mark.  “I should get going.”

“It’ll work out.  Good luck with the rest of the evening and make sure you talk to her again.”

“I will.” She hung up the phone and returned to Mark.

He smiled.  “Hey, I was thinking.  Since we’re done here and it’s still early, did you want to humor me and accompany me to
Don’t Open the Door
?  I hear it’s more funny than scary, kind of like the movie you told me about when we went out to eat.”

She checked the time on her phone.  It was still early in the evening, and while she could spend more time here and mingle with more people, she didn’t feel like it.  The thought of receiving instruction on how to appreciate art only depressed her because it was another reminder of how inadequate she was when it came to Nick’s friends.  She glanced at the engagement ring on her finger.  Was she about to make a horrible mistake?

“Lexie?” Mark gently asked.

She turned her attention back to him and sighed.  “I have to tell Mrs. Morris that the brown and green colors on her painting do a great job of showing the conflict between the good and bad aspects of Rome’s past.”

“Is that what her painting represents?”

“I guess so.  That’s what Nick said it meant.  Anyway, he wants to make sure I tell her that.” She took a step toward Mrs. Morris and paused.  “I wouldn’t mind seeing that movie, when we’re done talking to her.” If nothing else, it would be nice to get a break from trying to act more sophisticated than she was.  She’d enjoy escaping into a film that was supposed to be a bunch of cheesy nonsense.

“Are you alright?” Mark asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Let’s get this over with, okay?”

Though he seemed hesitant, he nodded and followed her as she walked to Mrs. Morris to tell her about the colors in her painting.