Books of a Feather (20 page)

“Men behave strangely around beautiful women,” I murmured.

“Yes, we do,” he said, smiling. “As you well know, of course. Because you are one of them.”

“One of what? Oh.” I shook my head back and forth like a wet dog. Absurdly pleased and also a lot embarrassed. “No, no. I'm not one of them. Good grief. I'm completely normal.”

He tossed back his head and laughed. “What you are is a gem of priceless value. My friend is a lucky man.”

I could feel myself blushing, so I changed the subject. “Will you be coming back to San Francisco again? It's such a pleasure to see you and Derek together. He's always laughing when you're around.”

“I know you mean he's laughing
with
me.”

Our conversation continued in that light vein and our orders were brought to the table a few minutes later.

“You ordered the pizza,” I said. “I was going to recommend it.”

“I had to try it. I've read about it and it's actually the reason I wanted to come here for lunch.”

“You'll see that everything you've read about it is true. The chef has been written up in every major magazine about his revolutionary process for making pizza dough.”

As we took our first bites, the table grew silent except for the groans and yummy sounds we both made.

“I have eaten in the finest restaurants in the world and I've never had anything quite like this,” he admitted.

“It's pretty darn good, isn't it?”

“That is a gross understatement, my dear.” He took another bite, followed by a sip of the red wine he'd ordered for himself. “I hope your sandwich is satisfactory.”

“It's absolutely mind-bending,” I said. “I confess, I order this same thing whenever I come here.”

“It looks delicious.”

We continued to eat and chat about little things. I waited patiently for him to return to the subject of his brother, and finally he did.

“You asked me if I'd be coming back to San Francisco, and the truth is, I'll be back very soon if I cannot convince my brother to come home with me.”

“But you said he agreed to go.”

He paused with his glass in the air. “Did I mention how manipulative he can be? He'll say he's coming, but I won't believe it until I see him on the plane with me.”

“Do you think his girlfriend might find a way to keep him here indefinitely?”

“It is my greatest fear.” He paused. “No, my greatest fear would be Bai insisting on bringing the woman with us to meet our mother.”

“Oh dear.”

He seemed to weigh his next words before he finally spoke. “I told you about my ancestor Sheng's connection to Audubon.”

“Yes.”

“Bai has taken this to heart, and not in a positive way. I found out he started going to the Covington before the Audubon exhibit even opened. He applied for a special educational pass to study the private documents that arrived as part of the exhibit. Now he's claiming that James Audubon stole our ancestor Sheng's paintings.”

I found his accusation hard to believe. “That's a serious charge.”

“It is outrageous,” he said bitterly. “Bai is determined to get his hands on the big Audubon book. He thinks he'll be able to tell up close which paintings are actually Sheng's and then he'll demand that the world accept the fact that Audubon wasn't the great master everyone thought he was.”

Bai was beginning to sound like Socrates McCall. Both of them seemed eager to take Audubon down a notch or two.

“He won't be able to get his hands on the book,” I said, knowing Ian and the level of security at the Covington. “Do you think he's right?”

“It doesn't matter,” Crane insisted, lowering his voice. “We have to look at the way things were back then. England was not an easy place for a Chinese man to survive and thrive. Our ancestor was grateful for the opportunity of working beside a master artist like Audubon. I have read his journals and I feel certain he wouldn't have
wanted this sort of unpleasant publicity stirred up on his behalf. He was a humble man.”

“I would imagine there were a lot of creative people who were taken advantage of back in the old days.”

“That is undoubtedly true,” he said.

“And who would've believed your ancestor if he had tried to claim that Audubon stole his work? Nobody would buy it. He might have been thrown in jail. Audubon was an important, acclaimed artist.”

“And he was white.”

My lips tightened at the problematic truth. “Yes. Sorry to say, but that would've been a major factor back then.”

I liked to think that things had changed for the better nowadays. But in the case of Crane's ancestor, there was every chance that Bai was right.

Crane sighed in exasperation. “Honestly, Brooklyn, this story of Bai's is not based in reality. My ancestor had talent, it's true. But it was his job to work as a colorist for Audubon. He was very proud of his association with the great painter. It brought honor to him and to his family.”

“I hope that's true.”

“Frankly, I believe this potential brouhaha is just another way for Bai to make himself feel more important. He could've been one of the finest artists China has ever produced, but instead, he wastes his time with conspiracy theories and nonsense. What if he does find out he was right? What will it matter? None of it means anything.” He shook his head. “But if Bai can bring some attention to the story and to himself, he'll try to make a buck off of it. Maybe he'll file a lawsuit.”

Crane sat back and threw his hands up as if to say
Who knows?
“He's doing it all for the chance to bask in the residual glory that rightfully belongs to our esteemed ancestor Sheng.”

Leaning forward again, Crane stared into my eyes and I couldn't help noticing the frustration etched on his face. “And the worst part of all this is that the woman Bai is seeing is the one who's urging him on, pushing him to make trouble, make waves. She seems to thrive on controversy.”

“I hate to exaggerate, but she sounds a little like a modern-day Mata Hari.”

“That is the perfect description,” he exclaimed. “I tell you, Brooklyn, the sooner I can drag Bai back to China, the sooner I'll be able to breathe easier.”

“I'm so sorry. But on the somewhat brighter side, I doubt if he would be allowed to look at the big Audubon book up close. Not while it's on exhibit.”

He smiled. “A small ray of sunshine. Thank you.”

“I'm sorry you're going through this.”

“No, I'm the one who is sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with my family's problems.”

I shrugged. “I don't mind at all. Families are so complicated, it's nice to have someone to commiserate with once in a while.”

He smiled. “You've said that about families before. Something tells me you know of what you speak.”

“I have five siblings, remember?”

He laughed. “How could I forget? Your poor mother!”

“No, no. She loved having all of us kids underfoot. She still does.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“I would love to have you meet her someday. And my father, too. They're the best people in the world.”

“It's charming to hear the way you talk about them.”

I smiled, took one last bite of my salad, and set down my fork. “I can't eat another thing.”

“But you must. We've got to have dessert.”

That was when I remembered his croissant appetizer and reminded him. “Did you change your mind?”

“I've decided to wait until after lunch and buy a few on the way out to take back to the hotel. But we must have something sweet now. It's the law, isn't it?”

“Yes, it's the one law I always obey, even when I'm stuffed.” I rubbed my full stomach.

“I'll just order a little something and you can take one bite.”

“If you insist,” I said, giving in to the inevitable. “Since it's the law and all.”

He grinned as he stood and walked back to the counter. A few minutes later he returned with a slice of rich dark chocolate cake topped with layers of caramel and chocolate ganache. Oh, Derek had wonderful friends.

“Oh jeez,” I mumbled, grabbing my fork. “Good choice.”

He laughed and picked up his own, and we didn't speak until the plate was empty.

“I'm happy you only wanted one bite.”

I would've laughed, but it hurt too much. But seriously, in my own defense, there wasn't a woman alive who would have said no to that dessert. “Now I'm truly stuffed. That was so delicious. And I've had so much fun talking to you.”

“We were supposed to gossip about Derek,” he complained. “But I've spent the entire meal spilling my spleen instead.”

I stared at him, baffled. “Do you mean guts?”

He frowned. “Is it guts? Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Then guts it is,” he said with a grin.

•   •   •

I drove back across town on Sixteenth Street and replayed some of the funny moments with Crane. I'd had so much fun with him and was sorry that Derek couldn't be there to join us. I recalled how much I enjoyed seeing Derek laughing and joking with his old friend. Derek had plenty of friends, but Crane was different. He provided something extra. The two men had a history together, and that made their friendship even more special. Not everyone was lucky enough to have a person like that in their lives.

I still thought it was a little odd that Derek had never mentioned Crane before. Derek knew everything about me, including my friends, but I knew very little about his life, except for the fact that he had four brothers and a very patient mother. It was just one more thing that made us so different from each other. He was “secret agent man with a gun” and I was “peace and love and country living.” But somehow we made it work.

The thought made me smile, but it also made me realize again how much I missed Derek. And why did that make me feel so infinitely stupid? I guessed it was because I now had to worry whether or not I had grown completely dependent on him after barely two years together.
When did that start?
I wondered.

Had I given up all my girlfriends? Was I content to spend time with Derek to the exclusion of everyone else? For heaven's sake, no. I wasn't dependent on Derek. I just loved being with him and really missed him when he was gone. Perfectly reasonable feelings, right?

“Right,” I insisted aloud. I had plenty of girlfriends. True, I didn't see as much of my best friend anymore, but that was because
she'd moved back to Dharma and married my brother. We still tried to see each other as often as possible, aside from that little geographic stumbling block.

Vinnie and Suzie were dear friends as well, but they had baby Lily now. And to be honest, Derek and I had been out of town for almost three months, so of course we hadn't seen them in all that time. But now that we were back, we would get together more often. We had already attended Lily's party last Sunday, so that was a good start.

I had plenty of bookbinder friends and librarian friends and book collector friends I didn't see very often, but whenever I taught a class at Bay Area Book Arts or went to an event at the Covington, I would run into some of them and we would plan lunch or drinks together.

I didn't find it necessary to scurry home to Derek every night instead of going out with old friends.

And I couldn't forget my newest friend, Alex. I considered it my great fortune that she had moved in across the hall from me and Derek. The woman had saved my life at least once and was teaching me defensive skills that would help me save my own life one of these days. She had come to visit me in Dharma while I was there. And now that I was back in town, we would see each other more often. She and Derek were friends, too, so the three of us got together pretty regularly.

Maybe I would stop by to see her when I got home. Maybe she had some cupcakes she needed to get rid of. Not that I could eat one more bite right now, but I would be happy to take one for later.

As I turned left from Sixteenth onto Bryant Street, my mind drifted from cupcakes back to my worries that I was becoming too
dependent on Derek. I missed him too much. I loved him like crazy.

So what was wrong with that? Did I really need to freak out about this? Of course I missed him when he was gone. Of course I loved him. But he loved me, too, and I was sure he missed me when he was out of town. Why did this have to be all about me?

Good point.

But just when I was figuring it all out, something else occurred to me, and it wasn't a good thing. With all the times I'd stumbled across murder victims, I had to wonder again if I was doing something to attract that negativity into my life. And the bigger question was, if it continued, would my friends be in danger? Would they start avoiding me?

“Good grief,” I said out loud. “Don't be silly.”

Right. I quickly and completely disregarded that horrible possibility. I had to stop thinking that way or I would drive myself crazy.

But my initial dilemma still gnawed on me. Had I forgotten how to be happy alone? I used to pride myself on my ability to live alone and thrive. What had happened to that girl? Where was that spirit? Would I be able to sleep alone in my bed tonight without Derek?

Wait, I thought, as I turned down Fourth Street and made a quick right onto Brannan. Why didn't I ask myself the opposite questions? Namely, was it okay to need him? Was it okay to want to be with him? Could I maintain my individuality and keep my friendships flourishing with Derek in my life?

I pulled into my parking garage, parked the car, and sat for a time alone in the silence. And after a while, the answer came to me like a voice from a cloud. “It's all okay. You can need Derek, and want him, and miss him, and cherish him. And you can do the
same with your friends. It's not an either/or proposition. It's both. It's the fullness of life. Enjoy it. Don't make such a big deal about it.”