Venus in Love (7 page)

How could Lee do this to her? She knew how important this night was to Morgan, didn’t she? Then her anger turned to fear. What if something terrible happened since they’d parted the night before? She could be hurt or missing. Morgan had an unreasonable tendency to worry, apparently, even about strangers.

“You don’t know a brush-off when you see it, Morgan?”

Madame Dautry, who was standing next to Morgan, but engaged in another conversation, said, “What, dear?”

“Nothing, ma’am.”

“Okay then, darling, it’s time to show the world the Blake
and Cranach
masterpiece.”

*

Lee stared out the window of the private jet she had chartered to take her home. It was outlandishly expensive, but the next flight home to D.C. wasn’t for another three hours, and it would have taken two layovers and nearly sixteen hours before she would arrive home. She wasn’t willing to waste that much time. She picked up the in-flight telephone to call the museum. Maybe she could get in touch with Director Foillot and reach Morgan that way. Instead of dialing, she returned the receiver. What would she tell him? I’m calling to get a hold of one of your interns to apologize for standing her up? “Dammit!” She slammed her head back into the seat. It’s what she got for letting herself get careless. She knew better, and now more than ever before she vowed it would never happen again.
Never
.

She thought about Morgan for most of the flight and about how she’d left her without any notice on such an important day in her life. Lee wondered what Morgan chose to wear and how she styled her beautiful hair. She even pondered what would have happened after the opening. Would they have gone back to her flat or Morgan’s and spent hours making out or making love? The thought alone sparked the beginning of a delicious fantasy. But it was the part where she imagined Morgan’s anger and sadness at being so heartlessly abandoned and how she had left her beautiful Venus waiting alone and innocent for a date that would never come that tore her heart out. Her mind told her it was all for the best, since after today her life would no longer be her own and Morgan deserved better. Yet try as she might, her heart felt otherwise.

Lee arrived at the airport shortly after one in the morning. As she stood in the valet waiting for her car, she thought about Morgan again. She thought about how beautiful she was certain Morgan had looked the night before. Lee told herself that she needed to let it go. Yet she couldn’t help but tell herself that as soon as she saw her mother she would find a way to contact Morgan and apologize. She owed her that at least, even if she couldn’t give her anything else. It was just the right thing to do.

The fifty-minute drive to the hospital felt longer than the flight home. So much was going through Lee’s mind she wasn’t even certain how long it had taken her to get there. She quickly parked and sprinted across the parking lot. She had lost so much time during travel, and she was scared to death that she missed a chance to say good-bye to her mother.

When she finally reached the reception desk, it took nearly a minute for her to acquire the nerve to ask for her mother’s room. The desk clerk looked at her through tired eyes. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and she hoped she wasn’t going to have to fight the woman to get in after visiting hours. Lee hesitated when the woman asked if she could help her. Lee didn’t know if she was prepared to hear that her mother was no longer in a room.

“Mrs. Clara Dencourt’s room…please.” The question was more of a plea for comfort.

“And you are?” the nurse asked.

“Her daughter…Ainsley Dencourt,” Lee stated proudly.

“Yes, ma’am. Mrs. Dencourt is in room 229, in CICU.” Before the woman finished giving directions, Lee was already heading toward the elevator, thankful for a name that allowed for special consideration in nearly every circumstance. Lee wished that this particular circumstance wasn’t one of them.

She was less relieved than she thought she’d be at hearing her mother was still in the cardiac unit. On her way to room 229, Lee steeled herself for whatever condition her mother may be in. When she reached the room, the door was closed and the sounds of beeping, buzzing, and swishing around her did little to quiet the pounding of her heart. Lee knocked quickly and entered the room.

*

Morgan got to her office at her usual time. However, unlike usual, Director Foillot and Madame Dautry were waiting for her when she arrived.

“Mademoiselle Blake, it’s great to see you again.” Director Foillot glowed strangely.

“Likewise, monsieur. I hope everything is okay.”

“Absolutely, Morgan. I didn’t mean to catch you off guard this morning. I simply had to come and praise you for the phenomenal work you did with the Cranach exhibit. It is truly inspired. You have an extraordinary talent, and it will be a great loss to us at the end of your tenure here. I want you to know that I will personally recommend you for any position that will showcase your talents and visions.”

“I…Director Foillot…I’m speechless. Thank you very much.” Morgan’s eyes filled with tears as the overwhelming sense of accomplishment enveloped her.

“I also wanted to apologize for imposing on your work to give a museum tour. It now seems to me that it was far beneath your caliber for me to have insisted.”

Morgan was flooded with mixed emotions about the tour. She had met an amazing woman, and for the first time she felt connected to another human being. She thought about using this moment to ask if he had heard from Lee, but instead she allowed the opportunity to pass in hopes that her freshly wounded heart would heal quickly. “It was my pleasure, sir. I will never tire of teaching others about what I love so much.”

*

Lee entered the room expecting anything but what she saw. Her mother was dressed casually, well, as casually as one would expect of Clara Dencourt. She was sitting comfortably on the hospital bed talking with Henry about house duties. Lee stopped just inside the doorway as relief settled through her entire body. The tension subsided so quickly that she felt unsteady on her feet.

“Mother?” Lee looked from Henry to her mother, confusion warring with relief. She’d expected to see her mother in a gown hooked up to oxygen and intravenous fluids with wires and leads crisscrossing over her chest. Yet there was none of that. Lee reached out for the wall to balance herself.

Her mother looked at her. When recognition registered, her face lit up. “Ainsley, darling. Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad to see you. It seems I had a bit of a scare.”

“What? A scare? You mean—Are you all right?” Lee edged over to the bed and glanced at Henry for reinforcement. Tears stung her eyes, and she braced herself on the bed rail to keep herself from succumbing to the vertigo that hit her.

“Well, yes and no. It seems that I have a combination of angina and excessive stress, basically. The doctor says that it may be time to retire, enjoy my senior years.”

“Stress? Retire? What are you saying?” Lee asked, still clutching the rail, hoping that this was just a very realistic and bizarre nightmare and that at any moment she would wake up and be on her way to Morgan.

“Sweetheart, come here.” Her mother motioned for Lee to sit with her. “Lee, I’m tired. I’ve been doing this for a long time. When your father was still here, all of our time was devoted to his dream. I loved him and I only wanted to be near him, even if it was while he was working. We missed a lot of opportunities to just enjoy each other, alone. When he died, I did what I knew. I devoted myself to his dream.”

“So what about his dream now? Are you just going to give it up?” Lee was growing angry at her mother’s selfishness.

“No, Lee. I’m fulfilling his dream and my own.”

“By retiring? That doesn’t make sense, Mother. Henry, what is she talking about?” Lee begged him for a translation. Giving up her work at the gallery would never have been his dream. Who was she kidding?

Her mother took Lee’s hand in hers. “Ainsley, look at me. Your father’s dream was to have the gallery live on through you. My dream was to retire and live the rest of my life with your father at the country house. It’s time that you begin taking your place at the gallery and for me to retire to the country.”

Lee thought she was going to hyperventilate. This wasn’t happening. She had tried and succeeded at keeping her life organized, and now it was all unraveling. “But I can’t. I don’t know…I can’t do it without him, without you.” Lee’s eyes blurred with stinging tears. Lowering her head, she couldn’t hold them back any longer.

Her mother pulled Lee’s chin up. “Of course you can. You were born into this. He taught you everything he knew. It’s time, Lee.”

Lee let the tears fall. She knew her mother was right. She owed it to him, to both of them. She knew she did. She just didn’t think she was strong enough to handle both the unexpected and the inevitable at the same time. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. This was her responsibility. She needed to take over “All right, I’ll try.”

As Morgan waited at the luggage carousel, she could hardly believe that her last two months in Paris went by so quickly. The Paris art world and beyond was abuzz with reviews for the Cranach exhibition. She had received two calls for positions at museums in the United States; however, neither could offer her the artistic freedom she had experienced while abroad. She couldn’t imagine that Director Foillot had downplayed her talent when they had called for his recommendation. So she was at a loss as to why each venue was far more interested in her before his input than they were afterward. She was good at her job. She just wanted a chance.

After she pulled her fifth and final bag from the belt, she heard the voice of a woman screaming her name. She was hardly surprised when she turned and recognized her mother sprinting through the terminal. Her normally subdued father wasn’t trailing far behind. As sad as she was to leave Paris, Morgan couldn’t help but be overjoyed at the sight of her parents. She hadn’t realized until now how much she had missed them.

Morgan threw her arms around her mother and stared at her father over one shoulder. He was a little grayer now, but otherwise he was just as handsome as ever. Once he was within reach, she pulled him into the hug and reveled in the comfort of their embrace. She was glad to be home.

“Hey, kid! Is this all your stuff? I don’t remember you leaving with quite so much,” her father said as he looked at her bags.

“Actually, that’s not it. I shipped the rest to the house. Don’t worry. I’ll get a storage unit in town. I don’t think I’ll need much of it for a while.”

Morgan’s mother shushed her. “Oh hush. There’s plenty of room for everything. No sense in spending money to store it somewhere.”

“Well, all right then, let’s get home,” her dad said as he brushed his hand over her cheek.

*

When they pulled onto the gravel drive, Morgan was welcomed by the unchanged scenery of her childhood home. She’d only been away eighteen months, but half expected things to be aged by years. The 1800s farmhouse had been renovated and expanded many times during its life, but had never lost any of its charming qualities. Morgan heard stories from her father that her great-grandfather bought the old train station and moved it to the farm over a hundred years earlier. As a child, she remembered trying to picture a train stopping in front of her house or strangers milling about in her living room while they waited for its arrival. Her favorite parts were the original crystal doorknobs throughout the house. It was an old house, but it was fascinating and it was home.

It was still the faded sunshine yellow with white trim and a wraparound porch. She remembered many summers gliding on the porch swing and daydreaming. Around the back were the milking barn and the grain silo. They too had been renovated over the years, but even with changing technology, her family had altered very little in regards to their milking process. Where many dairies advanced to digital and robotic technology, the Will-Bridge Dairy remained steadfast in their direct involvement and manual practices. Morgan believed that it was this perseverance that made her successful in life.

As the contentedness flowed over her, Morgan was suddenly exhausted. She was looking forward to throwing herself onto her old bed and taking a wonderful and much needed nap. A nap was something she didn’t think she’d had in nearly two years, and it was long overdue.

As soon as her bags were unloaded, they all made their way into the house. Morgan was worn out, but she took a brief moment to admire that few changes her parents had made to the décor during her absence. The same antique milk crates and bottles lined the shelves, along with the old childhood projects she and her brother had made over the years. She smiled at the sentiment of it all. Morgan knew that no matter where in the world she lived, she would always be a small-town farm girl at heart, and she liked that.

“It looks great, Momma,” Morgan said and then hugged her mother again. She was glad to be here. Morgan was also glad that she’d be staying there a while. She excused herself to her room for that increasingly desired nap.

*

Lee raised her glass in a toast to the guest of honor. Mary Turner had been the gallery curator for as long as Lee could remember. It seemed that once word got out about Clara Dencourt’s retirement, all the older employees and senior staff decided it was their time as well. The mass exodus of experienced personnel made Lee both excited and scared to death. She had prepared herself for it and thought she was handling it surprisingly well considering that everything she knew was changing so quickly. Yet, she also knew that the only way for the gallery to grow and advance was for this transition to take place. As long as she kept a tight and organized schedule, she was fine. Her admin assistant, Alex, definitely earned her keep when it came to handling Lee’s compulsions, and for that, she was beyond grateful.

“I know my father would have had something far more inspiring and insightful to say at this moment. But just as his words would have, mine come from the heart.” Lee swallowed the lump that rose in her throat as she reminisced about her childhood and the close friends she had made over the years.