The Escape Artist (15 page)

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Authors: Diane Chamberlain

BOOK: The Escape Artist
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“I’m relatively new here,” she said instead. Her words sounded slow and sluggish next to Cherise’s. “I’ve been admiring Adam Soria’s murals all over town.”

“Oh, yes, aren’t they something? He’s a genius, that man. Of course, all the paintings in the gallery tonight are his old work.” She waved her bangle-studded wrist toward one of the walls of paintings. “I was just about to have a showing of these pieces when the accident happened. I put it off, of course, and it’s taken Adam till now to feel ready to do it. He worries me to death. Do you realize he hasn’t done a single new piece in the six months since it happened?”

Kim shook her head.

“We have to get that man working again, don’t you think?” Cherise asked.

“Absolutely,” Kim agreed, as though she shared some ability to make that happen. She had no idea what the gallery owner was talking about, and she wasn’t about to ask. She reached for her son. “Let me take him off your hands.”

“He does get heavy, doesn’t he?” Cherise handed the baby over to her. “You must have some muscles, girlfriend. Hey!” She suddenly grabbed Kim’s shoulders and turned her to face the far wall. “Come on,” she said. “There’s Adam. Have you met him?”

Kim shook her head and hung back slightly, but Cherise nudged her forward.

“Come on, girl. You need to meet the artist himself.”

She saw him from the back first. He was average height, average weight, with short, salt and pepper hair. His arm hung loosely around the shoulders of a dark-haired woman. They were talking with another couple, and Kim cringed at the thought of interrupting them, but Cherise seemed to have no such reservations. Kim was relieved when the other couple slipped away just as she and Cherise were approaching.

“Adam!” Cherise said. “I want to introduce you to a couple of admirers.”

He turned to face them. Unlike everyone else in the gallery, Adam Soria had not dressed for the occasion. He wore jeans and a gray knit cardigan over a pale blue shirt. He sported a very short beard and mustache, which were graying like his hair, although he looked to be only in his mid-thirties. He had warm, brown eyes, but they were hooded by a frown, and there was a tiredness in his smile, as though he had to force it. He dropped his arm from the woman’s shoulders to shake Kim’s hand.

“I’m Kim,” she said.

“And this is Cody,” Cherise added.

“What a doll!” The woman’s large, dark eyes lit up at the sight of Cody. She looked young, probably no more than twenty-five. “I’m Jessie,” she said to Kim. “Adam’s sister. May I?” She reached out her arms to Cody, who did the same in response. It was frightening how easily he went to strangers.

“Oh, I’m in love!” Jessie settled the little boy into her arms. She took the monkey from Cody’s hand and made the ragged stuffed animal dance on Adam’s shoulder, eliciting a giggle from the little boy and a slightly more animated smile from the artist.

“Kim’s been admiring your murals, sugar,” Cherise said to Adam. “She’s just moved here from—whoops!” She looked toward the front door as a new stream of people filed into the gallery. “Gotta run.”

Kim smiled apologetically at Adam as Cherise rushed off. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation with—”

“You didn’t,” he said.

“I think I’ve seen you walking Cody in a stroller, right?” Jessie said, placing the monkey back in Cody’s hand.

Nothing like being noticeable. “Right. This is a wonderful town for walking. That’s how I stumbled across the murals. They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Adam said.

“I always wanted to paint.” That sounded stupid, but she wasn’t sure what else to say. Nor was she sure what to do with her arms. She was so accustomed to having Cody in them that without him they seemed overlarge and in the way. She folded them across her chest. “I was going to be an art major in college, but had to drop out.”

“Where did you move from?” Jessie asked.

“New Jersey.”

“What brought you to Annapolis?”

“Oh, I have some family nearby. In Bowie. And it’s pretty here. I like being near the water.”

“Are you working around here?” Jessie asked.

What was with the first degree? “I’m just starting my own business. Word processing out of my house. I don’t want to work away from home while Cody’s so young.”

“Really?” Jessie asked. “Do you use a word processor or a computer, or—”

“Jessie.” Adam laughed. “Give her a chance to catch her breath between questions, all right?” He looked at Kim. “My sister’s the curious type.”

“Sorry.” Jessie smiled. She pointed toward one corner of the gallery. “Can I take Cody over to see the ice sculpture?”

Kim looked in the direction she was pointing, and for the first time noticed the huge ice statue of a dolphin on the table in the corner. “Sure,” she said bravely. He would only be a few yards away from her.

She watched as Jessie carried Cody through the press of people, then directed her attention to the painting in front of her. It was another jungle scene, similar to the mural she liked best. “Acrylics?” she asked. It had to be for him to get those vibrant, opaque colors that marked his work.

“Uh huh,” he said.

She wanted to tell him how much she’d enjoyed his murals and hunted for words she could use that wouldn’t make her sound completely ignorant. “There’s a strength in your paintings,” she said. “They’re…hard to ignore. You can’t look at them without feeling something, some emotion, even in these smaller sizes. It’s the colors, and I don’t know…” She cocked her head to study the exotic white bird nestled in the green of the jungle. “It’s your style. You really have a style all your own.”

“Thanks,” he said. “It’s probably because I paint what I dream.”

She looked over to see Cody reach out to touch the dolphin’s icy nose. He pulled his hand away with a surprised giggle.

“You paint what you dream?” she repeated.

“Yeah. Or at least I used to. I used to get up every morning and sketch my dreams. You know, the way some people keep a dream journal? Then I’d pick my favorites and paint them.” He reported this without enthusiasm, as though he’d said it many times before.

“No wonder they’re so unique. You’re not painting what everyone else sees. Just what you see.”

“Hmm.” He actually seemed to perk up at that as though he liked her analysis. Then he followed her eyes to the dolphin. Jessie had started talking with someone, a woman who was making the monkey’s hand touch Cody’s nose over and over again.

“He’s all right.” Adam touched Kim’s arm lightly, kindly. “Jessie’s oozing with maternal instincts.”

“Adam!” A woman in a red sequined dress approached them.

“Hi.” Adam bussed the woman’s cheek.

“These are wonderful, Adam,” she said. “You shouldn’t have kept them locked away for so long.”

Kim felt intrusive. “I’d better go get Cody,” she said to Adam, but he caught her elbow in his hand and held it firmly.

“Don’t go,” he said. It was a plea of some sort, and there was such unmistakable sincerity in his voice that she didn’t budge. To the woman, he said, “I’m glad you’re enjoying them.”

“When do we get to see something new?” the woman asked.

“One of these days.” That forced smile again.

“Don’t make it too long, please.” The woman winked at him and slipped back into the crowd.

Adam turned to her. “I would have introduced you, but I can’t remember her name,” he said.

“Oh. No problem.”

“So, which is your favorite of the murals?” he asked.

“Actually, the jungle scene on Duke of Gloucester Street.”

“The dream was even better,” he said. “I don’t think I ever quite captured the feeling of it.”

“What about the mural you’re working on. The one on the bank? When will it be finished?”

He shook his head. “Probably never.” He rubbed his short beard with his hand. “I stopped working on it about six months ago. My dreams turned to shit around then.” He looked at her apologetically. “Sorry.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. There’d been an accident, Cherise had said. What had happened?

“What sort of painting do you do?” He turned the focus to her.

“None.” She smiled at him. “My dreams turned to shit about thirteen years ago.”

He laughed at that, then quickly sobered. “Thirteen years, huh? Now that’s discouraging.”

Kim looked over at the ice dolphin, but she couldn’t spot Jessie and Cody. She stood up on her toes, her heart kicking into high gear, then she turned in a quick circle. Nowhere. “Excuse me,” she said to Adam. “I—”

“Over there.” Adam pointed toward the back of the room. Jessie was sitting on a countertop, talking with a man standing near her. Cody was on her lap.

“Oh,” Kim said, relieved. “I should go free your sister.”

“A little separation anxiety?” Adam asked. “I can appreciate that. It was nice talking to you, Kim. Hope you get back to painting one of these days.”

“You too,” she said. “And I’m very glad I had a chance to meet you.” She reached out to shake his hand, but a man stepped in front of her and pulled Adam into an embrace, and she slipped away to get her son.

She was relieved to get Cody back in her arms again, but he was getting antsy, and she decided she would have to come back some other day to see the rest of Adam Soria’s paintings. Outside, she started walking toward her car, the chatter and laughter from the gallery following her all the way down the block. The only person who did not seem boisterously happy in that gallery had been the artist himself.

By the time she got home, Cody was asleep in his car seat. There were lights burning in the other upstairs apartment, and a blue sedan she had never seen before was parked at the curb.

She walked up the stairs with Cody in tow and listened for a moment before opening her apartment door. There were no sounds coming from inside the other apartment, but the air in the landing felt different somehow, heavy with the presence of the new tenant, yet another stranger to whom she would have to explain her existence.

–13–

SHE TOOK CODY TO
the park around eleven the following morning, hoping to miss Roxanne and her pistol-packing son. Sure enough, she and Cody had the playground to themselves. She pushed him on the swing for awhile, then walked with him over to the city dock, where they sat on a bench by the water and shared the bagged lunch she’d brought along.

She was walking home, pushing the stroller past a row of shops, when Adam Soria suddenly stepped out of the small pharmacy on the corner.

“Hey,” he said, his smile of recognition slow. “Hello, again.”

“Hi.” She stopped walking and shaded her eyes to look at him. “That was fun last night.”

He made a sound in his throat as if he were not quite certain he agreed with her, and he looked as if he were about to say something else when Jessie walked out of the pharmacy and came to stand next to him.

“Hello.” Jessie smiled and stooped down to greet Cody. “Hello again, little guy. Did you like that dolphin last night? Pretty nifty, huh?”

“Mamama.” Cody giggled and held his monkey out to Jessie.

“He doesn’t offer his monkey to just anyone,” Kim said.

Jessie looked up at her. “Out on one of your walks?”

“Yes. I’ll fit them in while I can. I hope I’ll get some work soon, and then I won’t have time to walk.”

“Word processing, right?” Jessie stood up.

“Right. You have a good memory.”

Cody let out a long yawn.

“You tired, Cody?” Jessie asked him. “Did your mom keep you up too late last night?”

“I think I did,” Kim said honestly. “Plus, we’ve had a long morning and it’s past nap time. We’d better get home.”

“All right,” Jessie said. She waved at Cody, raising her voice an octave, “Bye, bye, Cody. Bye bye.”

“Nice seeing you again,” Adam said. He and Jessie turned and began walking up the street, while Kim hung back to zip Cody’s jacket. When she started walking again, she noticed that Jessie and Adam had stopped. They were talking, glancing over their shoulders at her. Suddenly, Adam left his sister’s side to walk back to her.

“Since you’re new in town,” he said, “would you and Cody like to join us for dinner tonight?”

Surprised, she couldn’t answer right away. The two of them perplexed her. They seemed to be free spirits who could spend the day flitting around town. Well, she was a fine one to talk. But Adam and Jessie were obviously well-established in Annapolis. They possessed a gallery full of friends. Why were they being so nice to her? She wanted to say yes, her hunger for company at war with her better judgment. What had happened to her plan to keep to herself?

“No,” she said. “I—”

“Come on,” Adam coaxed. “What else do you have to do tonight?”

She smiled, thinking of her little apartment and the entertainment it offered: the computer, the TV, and her sketchbook. “Not much,” she admitted.

“All right, then.” He gave her the name and address of a restaurant and she agreed to meet them there at seven-thirty.

She watched them walk away from her. Jessie looked back and waved as they turned the corner, and Kim returned the gesture. “We’ve got friends, Cody,” she said to her son. “Don’t quite know how it happened, but we’ve got them.”

She had finished dressing Cody to go out that night when a knock came at her apartment door. The sound was so unfamiliar that she jumped. She put Cody into the small playpen in the middle of the living room and opened the door to find an attractive, gray-haired woman on the landing. She was dressed in a denim jumper, and she looked as though she might be a well-preserved sixty or so, half working woman, half cookie-baking grandmother.

“Hello,” the woman boomed in a voice that held no timidity. She stuck out her hand. “I’m your new neighbor. Lucy O’Connor.”

Kim shook her hand. “Kim Stratton,” she said.

Lucy peered around Kim into the room. “Oh, there’s the little one Ellen told me about.” She marched into the apartment and over to the playpen. “Look at you!” she said to the little boy. Then to Kim, “May I take him out?”

Kim nodded. Lucy lifted Cody out of the playpen and got down on the floor with him. She took one of his toy trucks out of the playpen and began scooting it across the floor.

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