The Artist's Paradise (6 page)

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Authors: Pamela S Wetterman

BOOK: The Artist's Paradise
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Chapter 10

 

Jonathan arrived home Monday evening shortly after seven-thirty p.m. to discover the brownstone dark and silent. He tiptoed into the foyer and flipped on the lights. He wandered from the living room into the kitchen and then mounted the stairs to inspect the master bedroom. No Angie, no Mister Tubbs. Not even a note.
She was gone.

He trudged
back down the two flights of stairs and headed to the bar in his private office. He poured a scotch, neat, and drank it in one gulp. Pouring a second drink, he sank into his desk chair with a thud.

Someone knew where she went. He picked up his desk phone and punched in her mother’s phone number. Sharon answered immediately
. “Sharon, it’s Jonathan. Did you talk to Angie today?”


Yes, a quick call early this morning. She babbled with excitement. Seems she was heading out to court to watch you win your big case. Why?”

He grabbed his scotch and took a swig. “Oh
. It’s nothing, really. She’s not home—no note.”


Don’t you think she’s probably out walking the dog? Or did something happen today?”


She missed my closing—said something came up.”

Sharon sighed. “
What could have been important enough to prevent her from court? She sounded so happy this morning.”

He stared out the darkened window. How to explain? “No
thing has happened. Everything’s great. I’ll have her call when she gets back home. Thanks.” He hung up the receiver before she could respond.

Next call—Vicki. After the sixth ring, the call went to voice mail.

He left a message and hung up. He slumped in his leather chair.

Jonathan pulled out his contact list and proceeded to call every friend and family member in the Chicago area. No one knew where Angie was.  He slammed down the phone. How dare she leave? Where in the hell had she gone?

By nine-thirty p.m., he dragged himself from his desk and wandered into the kitchen. His stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He found leftovers in the refrigerator from the anniversary dinner. He warmed the salmon in the microwave. This would be a very long night.

#

The tightness in Angie’s shoulders vanished. With no mention of Jonathan, her headache disappeared. The two friends spent the afternoon chatting about nothing. No discussion of her parents or their pending divorce. Vicki openly joked about her misadventures with her newest dating service. She had the knack to make anything, no matter how small, into a funny story.

After a light dinner
and hours of conversation, Angie stretched and yawned. “I hate to spoil our fun, but I need to get some rest.”

Vicki eyed her. “Rest? Of course, what was I thinking? You’ve had a long difficult day. Bedtime, it is.”

Upstairs in the guestroom, Angie changed into her favorite pink silk pajamas, washed her face, and crawled into bed. Mister Tubbs jumped up and tucked himself in beside her. She looked into his deep black eyes as he turned toward her with a questioning stare.

“I know.
Let’s get it over with.” She cradled her cell phone in the palm of her hand and entered her home number.

Jonathan answered on the first ring. “Angie, my God. Are you okay?”

She caught her breath and re-positioned herself in the bed. “I’m all right.”

“What’s going on? Where are you?”

“I’m at Vicki’s.”

“And why are you at Vicki’s?”

“I’m spending a few days with her, and then we’re going to see Susie. I need some alone time to think.”

“Think about what? Are you still angry with me?”

She jerked the phone away from her ear. How could he not know how badly he’d hurt her? “I can’t talk to you now. I’ll be home next Tuesday. We’ll talk then. Goodbye, Jonathan.”

She closed her cell phone and turned it off. He wouldn’t keep her awake all night with his
repeated calls, not tonight. This time belonged to her. Jonathan, so self-focused, would discover that she had the right to a life, too.

Angie settled into bed with
Mister Tubbs, arms around his chubby middle, and fell into a fitful sleep.

#

The two best friends spent the next three days relaxing. Angie found it refreshing to be with another woman. She appreciated the ease of the routine they fell into. Neither of them desired heavy meals. Yogurt and fresh fruit started their day. Shopping ended up with a light salad for lunch, and dinner was whatever they wanted from the fridge.

If a dish required washing, one of them noticed and took care of it. The trash was taken out without drama.
They discovered they had so many things in common to talk about. Reading and television offered peace and quiet. Angie had happily landed in paradise.

Friday arrived
quickly. Angie climbed into the car and snapped Mister Tubbs into his doggie seatbelt.  “Here we go.” Vicki started the car. “Hang on, I feel like setting a new travel-time record.”

Vicki told stories of her childhood and the trials of being a bashful and gawky youth.
Her pudgy frame ignited a great deal of teasing. Having to wear glasses when she entered kindergarten provided more fuel for jokes at her expense. “I took it all in stride,” she said.  Her stories, full of wisdom and humor, brought giggles and tears.

How different teenage life had been for Angie.
By the time she was twelve, she was over five-foot eight. She reached her full height of five-foot ten at the tender age of fourteen. Naturally statuesque and socially adept from a young age, she never lacked male attention. Her experience as part of the popular crowd provided an under-challenged life. As head cheerleader, she could date any guy she wanted. She dated athletes who also did well in school. Many of her boyfriends had been emotionally shallow. Maybe this was a pattern she kept repeating.

“Vicki, what are single men like today? I mean the ones you have dated?”

“Sorry to say, your Jonathon is typical of most of them—self-centered, career-driven, and power hungry.”

Angie pondered Vicki’s comment
for a few moments, and then she asked, “Do you ever regret getting a divorce?”

Vicki turned and gave Angie a sharp glance.
“I have so many memories of my failed marriage. It still hurts after six long years.” She turned down the radio and bit her lip. “The part I played in driving Patrick into the hands of another woman haunts me. He should have never strayed, but I was too busy with my career.”

A female Jonathon?

“I can see how a woman with a career could neglect her husband. But my issue is not a career, I’m not sure I even have a life.”


A woman can have a career and a happy marriage if she is fulfilled, challenged, and independent. A marriage requires both parties to make sacrifices. But, you can have it all if you work for it.”

“Jonathan
is the one pouring himself into a career. I am the forgotten one.”


You and Jonathan love each other. You can work this out.” Vicki patted Angie’s hand. “If you want a career, go for it. Just remember to make Jonathan number one in your life.”

Angie
crossed her arms and paused. “I hope you’re right.”

“Look, whatever happens, you’ll be okay. Sit back and enjoy this
delightful scenery.”

“It
’s gorgeous. Not at all like Chicago.”

Reclining in the seat, t
he sun warmed Angie as she rode along Interstate 75. Her artistic gifts stirred as the bland scenery transformed into a spring pallet. She marveled at the rolling green grasses—adorned with red and yellow wildflowers. She was in awe with the natural beauty of the Red Bud trees that graced the edges of the forests and the Bradford Pears bursting with clusters of white blossoms.

As they approached Knoxville, t
he outline of the Smokey Mountains rose before her. The crisp air energized her as she rolled down her window a few inches and drew in a deep breath. What a beautiful place Tennessee was.

Chapter 11

 

Vicki stopped the car, hopped out, and, tossed the car keys to the valet service. Susie stood in front of the restaurant digging in her purse. With the actions of a mother lioness, she wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed. Angie mused. Would her mother have ever done the same thing? She thought not.

“Honey, it’s wonderful to see you.  But you’re so thin. Are you eating?”

“Yes, Mom. I’m eating, studying, getting good grades, and avoiding all the wild parties. Any
further interrogation before we can get a nice dinner?”

Vicki flushed. “Sorry, old habits return. I know you’re eighteen and emancipated.”

Angie stepped up to greet Susie and smiled. Eyeing her blond hair cropped short, pink highlights streaked around her face, and her petite figure almost boney, she said, “Looks like college agrees with you.”

Susie
pulled away from her mother’s embrace, eyelashes rapidly batting in mock surprise, “Wow, look at
you.

Angie spun around in a three hundred and sixty degree swirl.

“Geez, you look fantastic. I love your new haircut. And red highlights? Crazy good.” Susie said.

“Thanks. You look pretty terrific yourself.”

Vicki stepped back as Angie moved in for her share of the hugs. “Nice to see you two kids together. What say we go in and get our name on the seating list? If the wait’s normal, we have time to catch up on life before a table is ready.” Vicki slung her purse over her shoulder and stomped to the restaurant entrance.

Angie and Susie
exchanged glances, nodded in unison, and scurried through the open door.

Seated at a round table next to the patio windows, their view looked out onto the back gardens
. In full bloom, the array of pink and white petunias welcomed the travelers. The waiter arrived shortly with water, bread, and menus. He shared the daily specials, collected drink orders, and then left the table area.

“We’ll want to plan our activities for the weekend,” Vicki said and
patted her daughter’s arm. “Are there some special events you want to make sure we attend?”


Yes. There’s a reception tomorrow morning at nine o’clock,” Susie said. “I’d really like you to meet a few of my friends and their moms. Tomorrow evening there’s an awards banquet.”

“That should be fun for the two of you,” Angie said.

Vicki placed the menu on the white tablecloth and laid the linen napkin on her lap as she turned toward Angie. “We want you to be a part of the festivities, right, Susie?”

“Yes, of course,” Susie said. “You can be my sister this weekend. I want to show you around campus and introduce you to my art professor. He’s wonderful.”

“Your mom shared that with me. What makes him so special?”

“First of all, he’s talented. But more than that, he’s unselfish and an encourager. Even if a student is average, or even mediocre, he spends extra time in class explaining the homework, showing his technique, and praising any improvement.”

Angie smiled to herself. No one is that perfect. How nice to be young and impressionable. “He sounds very special.” She shifted in her chair. “I don’t want to get in the way. This is your weekend to be together. I prefer to take a tour of the campus, have lunch at the student center, and then join you for the banquet later.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Vicki said.  “Then we can spend all day Sunday together. I heard the museum’s a
must see
. And we have to find some place for shopping. I’m still looking for a party dress to wear to the opera next month.”

“The opera?
You’re not serious. Who with?” Susie asked.

Angie gently patted Susie’s
hand. “You’ll find your mom’s a mysterious woman. She has several male friends that escort her to operas, concerts, and to rock out at the clubs. She leads a life full of friends, mostly male.”

Vicki batted her eyelashes. “Not so mysterious. I joined an online dating service and have met a few terrific men and more than a few weirdoes.”

Susie’s mouth dropped open. “Online dating? My mom? Tell me it’s not true.”

“Don’t judge me
, and I’ll give you the same courtesy.”

“Ouch. Okay,
Mom.”

Angie
flushed. Then she raised her arm to attract their waiter. “We’re ready to place our order.”

Vicki jumped in and quickly selected a bottle of red wine for their table. After giving their dinner orders, the
women fell into an extended silence. Susie, lips pursed, avoided eye contact with her mother as she fiddled with her napkin. Angie watched with curiosity as Susie finally ventured out from under the
cone of silence.

“Mom,
it’s’ weird thinking of you doing fun things with strange men. All my friends are on Facebook, Twitter, and online to meet the opposite sex. But you’re my mom.”

Angie
sat up straight. Had Vicki been watching for signs of opposition from Susie? “Look Susie, your mom has been a rock for me in the past few months. I’ve watched her make dating decisions based on her experiences and the character of others. Give her a chance to have a life of her own.”

Susie pointed a finger at Angie and glared. “My mom can do what she wants. I just don’t want to hear about it.”

“Hey, you two,” Vicki said. “It’s my life and not up for discussion. I’ve been alone for over six years. It’s time for me to build a new life. Got it?” Vicki picked up the napkin from her lap and wiped her mouth. “I know you’re only thinking of my best. Remember, I’m as emancipated as you are. Now can we change the subject?”

The three focused on their dinner in silence.

Finally, Angie gazed up and said, “Tell me more about your cool art professor. My major was in art.”

Susie’s
blue eyes radiated with a soft sparkle. “Not only is Professor Turner the sexiest man in Knoxville, but he is also the kindest, most generous, and talented artist I have ever seen. He paints with watercolors.” Susie outstretched her arms, palms up. “His paintings are so vivid, the color choices so spot on. Best of all, he offers his help with our projects—day or night. I adore him.”

Vickie said, “Susie, take a breath. He sounds great but he’s human, right?”

Susie bristled.

Vicki leaned forward
and cleared her throat. “Now, don’t get in a huff. Of course, I want to meet him. Can you arrange a time tomorrow for all three of us to see your
perfect
man?”

“He’s not perfect, just almost.
You’ll get it when you meet him. I’ll call him tomorrow and set up a time to get together. He loves to meet parents and big sisters.”

Angie
flushed. Why had she become so excited? He was just a college professor. “Good thing I’m going to meet this man. He sounds fantastic.”

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