Appointment with a Smile (11 page)

BOOK: Appointment with a Smile
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“Give it time,” I joked. “I think I can get a little more realism.”

“But you do get mussed up, luv.”

“I wear as much paint as I put on the canvas.”

Painting her was an enchanting experience. Touching her was the same, and I shivered with memories of my fingertips on her skin. When I concluded for the night, I put down my brushes.

With the same ritual of the previous evening, we undressed, showered, went to bed, and made love. Afterward, we fell into a deep, satiated, and peaceful sleep.

Morning arrived early since Bethany needed to get up at six for work. She was conscientious about her job, and I fully appreciated that. She had told me that, for the past decades, she’d been on call, worked round the clock, and often went two or three weeks without days off.

I didn’t want her leaving my side. Our kiss goodbye lingered. She promised to call me later. I hoped she would.

To keep my mind occupied, I began painting immediately after she left. A couple hours later, I closed my eyes for a moment then opened them. Her image was beginning to appear, and my heart felt a rush. As I set down my brush, I glanced over at my purse and remembered the slip of paper Fiona had given me with Samantha’s number. Now was as good a time as any to call her.

She answered immediately. “Danielle, I’m so happy to hear from you.”

“I wasn’t sure why you were calling. Is Molly okay?”

“She isn’t aware I’m phoning. Could we get together for lunch today? I realize it’s short notice.”

“It’s fine. I’m available.”

“Let’s meet at Razzmatazz at noon. I’ll book us a table.”

“I’ll be there.” Somewhere deep within me was a hope that Molly would accompany Samantha. But Samantha had stressed Molly wasn’t aware of her call. I reined in my hope. “Noon at Razzmatazz,” I said before hanging up.

Glancing at the clock, I saw I had a couple of hours to paint before getting ready for lunch. I began daubing colors gently. Then I heard a rap at the door.

“Danielle, it’s Esther.”

I pulled back the door. “Come in. Just dragging yourself back to the hotel at midmorning?” I teased. “British women will be calling you their Yankee crumpet.”

“At least one woman is referring to you as that. I saw Bethany this morning. She scurried in, got ready for work, and announced you are wonderful. Then she scampered off to work. Wonderful, Danielle. Shocked me.”

“Wonderful?” I said as I poured Esther a strong cup of coffee. “This java is probably a little cool from when I had brekky earlier this morning.”

“It’s fine. Anything that will wake me up.” Esther sat across from the table and sipped. “That portrait is really good. Bethany makes a nice model.”

“I’ve just begun actually. It’ll probably need a couple of days’ work before it’s where I want it. I’d like to have had Bethany continue sitting for me, but she had to go to work.”

“She was so excited that you’re painting her portrait. You do realize she thinks you’re special?”

“We’re very compatible, and I’m comfortable being with her. Oh, I meant to tell you I’m staying on an extra week. Fiona says the gallery is going to extend my show.” I added more paint to the canvas. “So, any chance you’ll stay on until the exhibit is over?”

“Let me check my retiree calendar.” She unfolded the air and turned imaginary pages. “Ah yes, I’m open and certainly it would be great to remain here. My retiree travel budget will be shot for a while, but oh well.”

“You can move up here with me. The gallery is splurging for my suite.”

“If I bunk with anyone, it really should be with my squeeze. In fact, Carrie asked this morning about my staying with her. It would be more convenient if I were there. But I think I’ll manage where I am. Independence, you know?”

“Yes, I do know you.” I added a stroke to the canvas. “Samantha called. I’m meeting with her today.”

“Samantha?” Esther bolted upright. “Can’t Molly do her own bidding?”

“Molly isn’t aware of the meeting. I took it Samantha would prefer she didn’t know about it. Maybe Samantha wants to talk about art. Fiona said she’s well-versed in the art world. I agreed to meet her at noon. Razzmatazz.”

“Upscale restaurant. Carrie would say posh.”

“Carrie is fun. I like her. And so do you.”

“And do you like Bethany as much as she likes you?”

I couldn’t help smiling. “We’re sharing time and enjoying it. Then I’m going back to Colorado, and she’ll continue to be a Londoner.”

“Danielle, she has feelings for you. I can tell.”

“If you’re implying she’s smitten, you’re wrong. She’s well aware I’ll be leaving. I do hope we can continue our friendship from across the pond.”

Esther leaned forward, her expression earnest. “She’s allowing you to forget Molly.”

“No one allows me to forget Molly,” I said with irritation. “If I haven’t forgotten Molly in thirty years, I rather doubt my mind is going to cancel her out now.” I threw down the paintbrush and crossed my arms. “Love isn’t a self-dissolving emotion.”

Esther raised her hands in supplication. “Okay, don’t get upset about it.”

“The time I’m spending with Bethany is wonderful. Molly is still in my heart. Even if she wasn’t, Bethany loves London and loves her profession. She’s been with the airline forever, and at only mid-fifty, she’s hardly likely to leave it.”

“With thirty years’ service, she’s eligible to retire. I remember her mentioning it at dinner.”

“Were you listening to our conversation?” I asked, my anger now gone. “Goodness, but you are a little busybody. So what’s going on with Mercury right now?”

“Mercury is somewhere over Denver. There’s probably a meteor shower pounding down trying to locate you. The goddesses wish to tell you how stubborn you are.”

“Or maybe they’re searching for you to tell you how daft you are.”

“You’re still holding out hope for a reunion with Molly.” She wasn’t asking a question.

“Esther, I’m not certain what I’m doing right now. Other than painting a portrait.”

She stood up and examined it closely. “It looks exactly like Bethany. Are you planning to convert it into another Molly masterpiece?”

I glared at her. “You’ll stay the extra week?”

“Sure, but after that, I should return. Poor Sadie and Aggie.”

“Aggie is having the time of her alpha life. Sadie will be fine. They’re very well-adjusted dogs. Like I say, the offer remains if you want to bunk with me.”

Esther wrinkled her nose as she sat down again. “I do love you, my friend. But I can only take you in small doses.” She smirked as I gave her a harshly reproving look. “Come on, O’Hara, lighten up. A little joke is not the end of the universe as we know it.”

“You can be very snitty. I certainly have no idea about the end of the universe. I just know life seems a little out of control right now.”

“This has been a lot to process in a short time,” she said. “Just seeing Molly would have been emotional. Or just meeting Bethany. The fates are ganging up on you.”

“Fates,” I repeated. “Esther, it’s surreal. My sudden success, meeting a woman I could fall in love with. Seeing the woman I’m still in love with. In some ways I wish I’d never set foot in England. Never left Colorado.”

“The way you’re acting, I’ll bet London women also wish you’d never set foot off of Colorado soil.”

“You know, Ms. Lilly, if I drop-kicked you from here, you probably could set foot on some nearby galaxy’s major supernova’s soil.”

Our laughter came in gales for several moments.

“Think of me up there with all that gas and dust. All those ultraviolet and X-rays. Out there searching for the light of life. In my element.”

“What?”

“Ah, yes. Homochirality!”

Frowning, I said, “And it gets worse.”

“It’s a good thing as an artist you don’t need to do research. Try doing a little scrutiny of past visuals.”

I glanced at my wristwatch. “I’ve got to get ready. And I’d like to do it without any banter.”

Esther finished her coffee and stood. “What do you think you’ll be discussing when you meet with Samantha?”

“She simply wants to talk with me. I agreed. I like her very much. I won’t even ask about Molly. Will that make you happy?” My anger returned, burning my face. “I’m completely without the ability to do anything concerning Molly. That inability has been with me every day for the past thirty years. For God sakes, I’m trying to hold myself together. Molly is here in this city, and I can’t do one damned thing for her love.”

“Danielle, don’t get your hopes up. This isn’t necessarily a signal you’re getting back together with Molly.”

“It doesn’t mean we couldn’t.”

She took my hand in hers. “Don’t set yourself up.”

“No. At least I’ll try not to hope.”

I was glad when Esther said goodbye and left me alone with my thoughts.

Chapter 19

 

The Razzmatazz sat on the corner of the block in an elite area. As I entered, I made note of the luxurious recreation of a Jazz Age bistro. Walls were ruby with gold sconces and décor. Brightly styled furniture displayed aqua, roan, and ivory colors. Poster-sized, black-and-white photographs of Jazz Age celebrities lined the walls, with at least one above every table.

The restaurant was filling up rapidly. Samantha sat near an F. Scott fitzgerald photo. I spotted her as she waved in my direction.

As I joined her, I noticed she’d already ordered a bottle of wine and filled two glasses. I smiled. “How have you been?”

“Life seems to speed by so rapidly, and I never get anything done,” she complained with good humor. “But I’m taking priorities first. It’s important that I speak with you about Mother.”

“Maybe she’d rather you not.” I was curious, and when interrupted by the server, I was slightly impatient. We ordered quickly. Thankfully, Samantha continued where she’d left off.

“Danielle, there are things you might not understand.”

“The facts I see indicate Molly doesn’t want any part of me. If she wanted me in her life, she would’ve contacted me ten years ago. And certainly after we met at the market. I told her where I’m staying. She also could have easily looked me up at the gallery, just as you did.”

“She’s still in love with you.”

I sat back and allowed Samantha’s words to resonate with me. “She’s ignored me for all these years because she’s still in love with me?” I laughed harshly. “I think not.”

“I realize it’s difficult to believe. But I’ve always known she loves you.”

“Then why didn’t she contact me? She knew I would have taken her back without questions.”

“Her life with Pamela was complicated. My biological mother was brilliant, beautiful, and certainly manipulative. Pamela wrote books about philosophy. She lectured in the most prestigious universities. Molly was her acolyte when they first met. The older, famous, author-slash-professor swept her student, Molly, away. Molly was seduced. Then after they were together, it was too late to leave Pamela.”

Frowning, I took a sip of my wine. “She falls for her gorgeous, celebrated, rich professor, and I’m not a raging beauty. Leaves me after an eight-year relationship. I’ve been scraping by for years. Until the last few years, no one has even known my name. She picked the woman she wanted and stayed with her for twenty years. End of story.”

“She didn’t stay because of Pamela. I’m the reason she stayed.” Samantha stared down at the table.

“I don’t understand.” Our lunches were placed before us. Although they looked and smelled delicious, I had lost my appetite. So many questions beleaguered me.

“Danielle, the reason I’m trying to make things right now is because if it hadn’t been for me, she would’ve gone back to you. I know she’s in love with you, and I know from your painting you’re in love with her. But it’s complicated.”

Now I was intrigued, and I allowed some of my bitterness to slip away. “I’m listening.”

“After a year or so, Pamela’s drinking problem began to increase. My biological mother was an alcoholic. She was careful not to show her drinking to Molly at first. I strongly suspect when the affair began, Molly had let her guard down because she had been, as they say, plied with alcohol.”

“Did Molly say that was the reason?”

“She implied it once when they were fighting. Yes.”

“Molly wasn’t even a drinker.”

“I know. I’m sure after Pamela seduced her, Molly felt guilty she’d succumbed. Then, after terminating your relationship and relocating, she understood her mistake when confronted with Pamela’s rages and tantrums. Molly realized she’d be leaving me behind to take the brunt of Pamela’s cruelty. She wouldn’t leave a child behind to be mistreated. I was only a few years old, but I knew what was happening. The only happiness in my life was Molly. She knew I relied on her.”

It was starting to make sense. “She couldn’t ask the courts to make her the custodial parent. Biological mother would win that one. Especially thirty years ago.”

“Exactly. Pamela saw what an immediate and strong bond I had with Molly. She was aware Molly would never leave her because it meant leaving me with a cruel alcoholic. I feel responsible for Molly staying. Pamela would often scream that Molly would never see me again if she left. So now I would like to see the woman I consider my true mother happy.”

“Molly was your link to safety, wasn’t she?”

“She protected me from Pamela’s vicious temper.” Samantha held my gaze. “You’re right, she was my only lifeline. I adored Molly’s kindness. I was a child, but I knew I was in jeopardy.”

“Staying was Molly’s decision. You can’t take responsibility for her staying with Pamela.” I paused and regrouped my thoughts. “That explains away twenty years. But after Pamela died, why didn’t Molly contact me? When you became of age, why didn’t she contact me then?”

“I asked her that not too long after Pamela died. She said she would have been embarrassed after the way she treated you. She didn’t want to mess your life up again by allowing you to care for her. She also believed you had probably found happiness with someone else.”

“I’m so sorry you had such a troubled childhood. An alcoholic or a parent with a drug addiction is a treacherous minefield to get through.” I had my grandparents. Samantha had Molly.

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