The Artist's Paradise (3 page)

Angie
tasted the sweet bread and replaced it on her plate. “I remember being happy in college—carefree, challenged, and so much in my own world. For almost four years, I followed my love of art. After graduation, I threw myself into my painting full time. That was all before I met Jonathan. How do I recapture my dream
now
?” Angie folded the white-linen napkin and placed it on the table.

“
Reconnect with yourself. When Patrick left me, my spirit almost broke. My identity was gone. I survived. You’re stronger than you realize. Please don’t settle for less. You deserve to be happy."

Vickie made sense. “My journey starts today.” She hesitated
a moment, and then pulled her cell phone out of the Gucci purse. “I guess it’s time to turn this phone back on and see if there have been any calls during our shopping extravaganza.”

Five missed calls, all from Jonathan. He was probably home. Renewed in spirit, she had the resolve to face him.

Chapter 4

Jonathan peered out the living room window. The evening shadows of the old elm tree in the front yard shaded the entry steps. Years earlier, he and his father planted the elm in a time of incredible sadness. Losing his mother to cancer when he was merely twenty left a huge void in his life. Shortly after her death, his father moved away and left the three-story brownstone empty. On Jonathon’s wedding day, his dad deeded the brownstone over to him as a wedding gift.

How Jonathan loved the location.
A residential area of Chicago, Gold Coast was alive, established, and full of culture. Growing up, his family spent hours on Sundays picnicking at Lincoln Park or going to the zoo. Most people who worked downtown loved the fact that it was so convenient. Some walked. Others took the train. Once you lived in
Little Manhattan
, no other place compared. Warm memories flooded him as night settled in.

He ran
his hands through his unkempt hair, stepped over to the fireplace, and scooped up the picture frame on the mantle. Angie’s cherries and cream face beamed back at him. Her larger-than-life smile glowed. She possessed a classic “Audrey Hepburn” grace.  Her personality sparkled from every pore. Her laughter was musical and inviting. Life without Angie would be impossible.

He
tenderly placed the photo back onto the mantle and retraced his steps through the room. The grandfather clock struck five times. He’d been home for over an hour. Time passed in slow motion. He’d explored for clues as thoroughly as a homicide-detective. His search for answers resulted in little comfort. His exploration of the brownstone left him more confused. Their bedroom resembled a tornado aftermath. Clothing and suitcases were strewn all over. The rest of their home appeared immaculate. The only comforting clue—Mister Tubbs remained on guard in the brownstone. She would never leave for good without him. Where was she?

Startled by the ring of his cell
phone, he flew to the coffee table and grabbed it. “Hello?”

“Hi,
Boss. Can you talk?”

Jonathan collapsed into his favorite leather armchair next to the fireplace
.

“
Angie’s not home. She won’t answer my calls. Did you get the anniversary gift?”

Mister
Tubbs trotted over to the armchair and jumped up on Jonathan’s lap. He settled in, and promptly fell asleep.

“Assignment completed.
Tiffany’s
will be delivering a beautiful bronze pendant graced with eight lovely, if small, diamonds. She’ll love it. And, to make sure you’re out of the doghouse, your favorite florist’s delivering two dozen of his best red roses in a bronze vase.”

Mind
lessly stroking a sleeping Mister Tubbs, Jonathan asked, “How’d you know I forgot to pick up the roses?”

“Safe bet. Besides, I called the florist to make sure you’d been there.”

“Good work. I’ll have to get a second job to pay for the gifts, but it’s cheaper than divorce.”

Gina giggled. “Careful what you say,
Boss, even in jest. Gotta go. Good luck.”

Jonathan
scooted deeper into the armchair and straightened his back. “Right, all my luck has been bad lately. Time for some good karma. See you in the office on Monday. And Gina, thanks.”

“Sure thing. See you
next week.”

W
hat if she didn’t come home? The thought unnerved him. Of course, she would come home. She always did. One thing was certain. Angie was predictable.

Mister
Tubbs stirred in Jonathan’s lap and raised his head in expectation.

“Time to eat?”

The terrier scampered to the kitchen, grabbed his favorite toy and tossed it into the air. Jonathan shuffled behind. He filled the dog dish with a gourmet mixture of dry and canned dog food. Mister Tubbs only received one teaspoon of the yummy-moist food but the taste always put a spring in his tiny steps.

Jonathan
set the bowl down and sat on the tiled-kitchen floor next to his dog. He’d messed up, but he’d do better.

The doorbell rang. Jonathon jumped up.
Mister Tubbs, in full watchdog mode, barked continually, reaching the front door before his master. As if in a procession, the florist deliveryman stood at the door, and the currier from
Tiffany’s
came up the walk.

Jonathan smiled, swept a stray strand of unruly hair from his forehead, and opened the front door. Finally, he’d caught a break. Angie wasn’t home yet and the gifts had arrived. Maybe he’d survive this after
all.

As instructed by Gina, h
e tipped both couriers generously. The velvet gift-box dwarfed in his hand. What if she didn’t like it? He didn’t even know if
he
liked it. She couldn’t ever find out that Gina picked it out for her.

Minutes after the deliveries arrived, the key clicked in the lock and the front door squeaked open. He gulped
—was he ready to face her? Angie rushed in. As she stepped into the entry, the fresh-floral fragrance of
Dancing Waters
stirred his senses. She stopped, stared at him, and then edged past him in silence.

This was going to be harder than he had thought.

“Angie, Baby, you’re home. I’ve been worried. It’s great to see you.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what worry is. I sat here all last night waiting for you—no call, nothing. You broke your promise.” She flung her shopping bags and purse on the floor, stooped down and swooped up
Mister Tubbs, and stomped into the living room.

Jonathan traipsed after her, head down, avoiding
eye contact. She flopped onto the sofa, Mister Tubbs still riding high in her arms.

He ground his teeth. She always gave
Mister Tubbs
all her attention. Mister Tubbs couldn’t do anything wrong, and he couldn’t do anything right. “Why don’t you understand? I work hard to secure a great future for both of us.”

“What good
’s a future if we never see each other?”

“Fine. I’m a jerk. How can I make this up to you?”

Silence.

“It was work. I had to finish preparing for a meeting with Carl. I fell asleep at my desk. But look
.” He held up the small wrapped gift, “I have a special anniversary present for you. See?” He swallowed hard.

She turned away as if he
didn’t exist. Then turning back to him, with a flip of her shoulder-length hair, she asked, “Where were you? I called several times.”

“At work. Where else would I be? ”

“I tried to reach you. You weren’t in your office. You had your cell phone turned off, too. It went straight to voicemail. I’m no fool, Jonathan.”

He stomped over, stood in front of her, and glared.
“Carl and I went to dinner to discuss my closing arguments. I turned off the cell in the restaurant. I was back in the office by ten o’clock. I must have forgotten to turn it back on.”

“Whatever
happened to calling your wife?”

“
Give me a break.” What the hell. She was impossible.

Angie backed up, jaw set as if chiseled in stone. “Well, you seem to forget lots of important things.”

This was going badly. “I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”

“Your promises are worthless. I’m tired of you putting your work and everyone else ahead of me. If you don’t love me enough to come home on our anniversary, maybe we need to reconsider being together.”

Jonathan’s throat tightened. “You can’t mean that. I love you. We can make this work. I’ll change. Give me another chance.”

“I
refuse to talk to you tonight. You can stay in the guest room, or you can leave. I really don’t care which.” She swiveled around, still carrying Mister Tubbs and stomped out of the living room and up the stairs.

Leave?
Jonathan stared at the gift in his hand and slumped onto the sofa. Yep, this was really serious.

Chapter 5

Angie stirred in the bed as a gentle kiss touched her cheek. She blinked
, and her emerald-green eyes opened. Next to her sat Mister Tubbs, stubby tail wagging.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

He moved closer to her ear and emitted a sweet cooing sound. She smiled, rolled over onto her side, and glanced at the alarm clock. “Wow, it’s almost 8. I’ve overslept. Hungry?”

Angie crawled out from under the bedcovers and stretched. As her feet touched the floor, she surveyed the other side of the king-sized bed—much too large for only one person. Had Jonathan stayed in the guest room last night?

A silver tray on her dressing table caught her attention. A coffee urn and floral-china cup adorned the tray. A neatly folded card leaned against the coffee urn. Next to the cup, placed like a truce offering, were gifts—roses in a bronze vase and a velvet box tied with a gold-silk ribbon. Angie poured a cup of hot coffee, inhaled the Hazelnut sent, and laced it with cream. She hesitated a moment and then read the folded note.

Angie,

I know there is no way to make up for what happened last night. But if you forgive me, I will be the happiest man in Chicago. I had to go to work today. Carl would not take no for an answer, but I will be home for dinner and we can celebrate our eight years together. I’ll call you.

Love,

Jonathan.

Why did he think expensive gifts could make up for his continual neglect? She
slowly lowered herself onto the chair in front of the dressing table as if she weighed five hundred pounds. She dabbed her eyes with a tissue and stared at herself in the mirror. She had dared to make a change. She’d attempted to glow with red-carpet glamour. What a waste. It had been all for nothing. What had happened to them? He could be so charming, loving, generous, and at the same time, cold and distant. Was this all love was?

The ringtone on her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. “Hi Vicki, I’m so glad you called.”

“Do I need to hire a lawyer for you? Is it murder or divorce?”

“Not yet, maybe soon. I’m favoring murder. He slept in the guest room last night, and of course, he’s already gone. Work calls. You know. And as usual, Carl
’s the villain, not Jonathan.”

“Any peace offerings?”

“He left me hot coffee, roses in a beautiful bronze vase, and a small box from
Tiffany’s
.”

“Good job,
Girl. What did he get you from
Tiffany’s
?”

“
Don’t know. Haven’t opened the box. I’m too upset to care. Looks expensive, probably jewelry by the size and shape.”

“He must be feeling extremely guilty. It’s time to set out new ground rules.”

“Yes, but guilty of what?” Angie stared into the mirror and sighed. “I don’t want him to pay.  I want him to love me enough to keep his promises. I have to be able to trust him.”

“You have his attention. When he comes home, share your feelings with him. Have you thought about counseling? It didn’t help us, but Patrick was a lost cause. Counseling might be just what you two need.”

Angie grimaced. Oh sure, send them to counseling and all will be well. “Do you know how often my parents went to see a marriage counselor? Dad actually had the nerve to date one of the counselors after their sessions ended in failure. Yuck!”

Angie leaned forward as
Mister Tubbs jumped into her arms. His body-warmth comforted her. “You’re right about one thing. I’ll have to talk to him tonight. I can’t go on like this. I’m miserable.” She tiptoed over to the coffee urn and refilled her cup.

“Remember when we talked about you having fun? Next weekend, I’m going to visit Susie at UT for Mother/Daughter weekend. Why not come with me.”

The call waiting sound beeped in Angie’s ear. She looked at the display— Jonathan. She closed her eyes.
Not yet.

“I can’t just take off for the weekend.”

“Why not?” Vicki asked. “Knoxville’s a fun town and you’ll have space away from that man.”

“It’s your time with Susie. I don’t want to be a third wheel.”

“Susie won’t mind. She loves you. Actually, she would prefer to have you as her mother over me, but you can’t change biology.”

Angie snickered.

“Besides, I need your input. Susie has a crush on her art prof. He’s probably harmless, but I’d appreciate your impression of him. She’s determined to introduce him to me.”

“Yeah, like I’m a good judge.”
Mister Tubbs’ small black eyes peered at her. Angie patted his backside and asked, “What about Mister Tubbs?”

“Bring him.
Since I usually travel with my cat, Charles, I only stay at pet-friendly hotels. I want you to see the University of Tennessee campus.”

“Thanks for the invite,” Angie said. “Let me think about going. A short vacation could be just what I need. I haven’t
been on a campus in over ten years. I’ll bet a lot has changed, and you’ve peeked my interest in that infamous professor. Artists
are
different.”

Mister
Tubbs scurried to his toy basket and grabbed his squeaky mouse. He tossed it into the air, pounced on it, and tossed it again.

“Right now I’ve got to feed
Mister Tubbs. He’s running in circles around the room with panic in his eyes. Catch you later.”

“Yeah, I need to go too. Seriously, think about my offer, it would be good for you to get away. Call me.”

An hour later, dressed in her favorite skinny jeans and a crisp boyfriend- white shirt, Angie dabbed on her Burt Bee lip-gloss. No need to do a full make up today.

Morning faded into early afternoon.
She spent the day organizing her office desk and reading. There had been no second call from Jonathan. What had she expected?  Once he got to work, time lost all value.

#

Jonathan’s day in court ended. He gathered up his manila folders, stacked them in numerical order, and placed them into his black-leather briefcase. He knew the contents by heart. This trial had dragged on for ten months. The case should go to the jury next week.  He had to prepare for his closing remarks. His firm depended on a favorable verdict. The client, a pharmaceutical company, was being sued for a diabetic drug found to be harmful to heart patients. Class Action suits could be devastating. With a positive verdict, his client would remain solvent.

Jonathan
dialed home. He’d tried to reach her before court but she never picked up. Checking the time on his cell phone, he knew he should’ve called at the lunch break, but the client required briefing prior to his testimony. There wasn’t even time for lunch.

Angie answered on the sixth ring. “Hello.”

He shivered as the cool word reached his ear. He took a deep breath and paced his response. Why wouldn’t she give him a break? “Hi honey. We just finished up in court.”

“So?”

“So, I’m packing up and heading to the train. I’ll be home for dinner by 7 at the latest.”

“Dinner? I’m not cooking tonight. After last night, it seems pointless.”

Jonathan inhaled deeply and choked back a retort.  “No problem. I’ll take you out. Name the place. I’ll have Gina call for reservations.”

“I’m not hungry. Get
takeout for yourself. Do whatever you like. Bye.”

He closed his cell phone and slammed back the chair from the courtroom table. What’s her problem? He had no intention of paying for missing one d
inner for the rest of his life.

He
grabbed the handle of his briefcase and stomped out of the courtroom. It was time for a truce or full-fledged war—
her choice.