Legal Artistry (8 page)

Dieter's eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No. Why would she?"

Sean smiled at him a little indulgently, and Dieter felt himself bristle slightly. “She was concerned that I would turn you gay."

"But she always liked you,” Dieter countered.

"Yes, she did. But liking a shopkeeper who happened to be gay is one thing. Having your grandson working for him and in close proximity to him on a regular basis is quite a different story, at least in your Gram's mind,” Sean explained, and Dieter wanted to refute what he was saying, but he knew his Gram, and what Sean was describing held a ring of truth he couldn't ignore. “I'm not faulting your Gram. She came around, but she never really understood."

"I know she had strong opinions about people, some of them not always good or right,” Dieter confessed.

"Yes. You heard those views all your life, and they keep playing in the back of your mind. You can't live your life the way your Gram wanted you to. No one could. You need to be happy, and you need to live for you.” Sean stood up as someone knocked on the door. Cracking it open, he said something quietly and then closed it again. “You shouldn't feel guilty for wanting to go dancing, and you most certainly have nothing to be ashamed of if you find someone attractive and want to dance with them. As for the rest, follow your heart and not the voice of your grandmother in your head,” Sean told him with a knowing smile. “It's getting busy, and I need to get back out front, but we can talk again later if you want."

"No,” Dieter said as he got up, and Sean pulled him into another hug. “Thanks, Sean."

"You're welcome,” Sean responded before opening the door and striding toward the front of the store. Dieter followed behind and saw Sean hugging his son Bobby while Laura hurried back into the office, still carrying the invoice she'd had earlier. Knowing her, she'd probably been holding it the entire time for fear she'd lose it.

"Hey, Bobby,” Dieter said as he approached, “are you working tonight?"

"No. Mark and I are getting together for an art slam."

"What's an art slam?” Dieter asked, visions of paintings being hurled against walls flashing through his mind.

"Not what you're thinking,” Bobby told him with a mischievous grin. “Musicians have jam sessions. Mark and I have slam sessions. We get together and work through new techniques and just have fun. Would you like to come?"

"I'm no artist,” Dieter countered, shying away.

"Don't have to be, we're just messing around with color. I've got some extra paint clothes in the car,” Bobby coaxed with words and a smile.

"If you're sure,” Dieter responded nervously. It sounded like fun, but he didn't want to intrude.

"Cool.” Bobby practically dragged him out of the store, saying good-bye to his dad in his excitement. Sean waved as they left, laughing to Katie. “We'll leave your car here, and we can pick it up later,” Bobby added as they climbed into his car and took off. “The extra clothes are in the backseat."

"Are you sure Mark won't mind?” Dieter asked as he reached into the backseat, retrieving Bobby's bag.

"Of course not. Mark and I both believe you don't have to be an artist to express yourself through art. Children do it all the time. It's only when we're older and get self-conscious that most people stop,” Bobby explained, as they pulled up in front of Tyler's antique shop. Bobby turned off the engine and climbed out of the car. Dieter followed, carrying the bag, as Mark opened the front door.

"I see we have a new initiate,” Mark called with a smile, and Dieter had his answer. Mark seemed genuinely pleased to see him. “I set things up out back. Come on in and get changed while I add another.” Mark looked to Dieter as though he were going to burst with excitement. Dieter and Bobby went inside. Mark locked the door, and they walked through the fully lit store. “Tyler's upstairs, reworking some displays,” Mark explained before standing at the base of the stairs. “We'll be out back. Don't come out without warning!"

"Okay,” Tyler called back down the stairs, and they continued to the back door.

"Get changed and meet me outside,” Mark instructed, and Bobby led him to Mark's studio, where he placed the bag on the bench.

"These sweats should fit you,” Bobby said, and he tossed a pair of paint-covered sweats and a T-shirt to Dieter before beginning to change. “This should be a lot of fun, Dieter. I promise. So relax and enjoy. It's not every day that you get to make art with a famous artist.” Bobby was right, and Dieter changed his clothes quickly, then followed Bobby out back. “You might want to leave your shoes so you don't get paint on them.” Dieter looked down and saw Bobby wriggle his toes. “Bare feet work best for these things."

"Okay,” Dieter said with a smile before slipping off his shoes and socks, following Bobby out behind the building. Three canvases stood on easels at the edge of a concrete pad near the building with a table across from them with what looked like squirt guns resting on it.

"I'm glad you could join us, Dieter. This should be a lot of fun. Each blast gun has a different color of water-based paint in it. Dieter, you're on the far end, and Bobby, you're in the middle. The trick is not to try to control the paint, but let your feeling and emotions show through the gun. You'll be surprised how what you're feeling will show on the canvas. There are only three rules: keep the paint on your own canvas, put the gun back where you got it, and have fun!"

Mark had labeled the colors on the table, and Dieter reached for the blue, not quite sure what to do. Bobby had already grabbed the yellow, squirting the canvas with lines of color, his face suddenly serious, eyes a little vacant, like he was seeing something that wasn't really there. “I'm not sure what to do,” Dieter told Mark, who set down his gun.

"Just let yourself go and think about what you're feeling. What happened to you today? What strong emotion did you feel?” Mark took the gun from Dieter's hand and set it on the table. “Close your eyes.” Dieter complied, listening to Mark's voice. “Think about a strong emotion, something recent and powerful. Concentrate, let it flow through you,” Mark told him quietly, and Dieter nodded. “Now, what color do you think of?"

"Red,” Dieter answered without hesitation.

"Then pick up the red and go,” Mark told him, and Dieter barely opened his eyes enough to pick up the gun before he was squirting at the canvas like mad. Then, barely thinking, he grabbed the black and squirted in long diagonal lines, slashing with the gun at the canvas, color upon color, alternating red then back, his movements big and bold as the frustration and anger about the paintings, Gram, and everything else came pouring out of him. He hadn't realized he was making noise, but after a while, he heard some yelling and screaming and realized it was him.

Once the anger abated, Dieter set down the gun he was holding. Breathing hard, Dieter opened his eyes and looked around. Mark and Bobby had both stopped and were looking at him and then at his canvas. “Do you feel better?” Bobby asked just above a whisper.

"Yeah,” Dieter swallowed and then colored with embarrassment. “I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for,” Mark told him. “Look at the canvas.” Dieter had been afraid to, figuring it would be ugly. Well, it was, but not in the way Dieter feared. All the frustration, repression, anger, and self-loathing he'd felt for years was there staring him in the face.

"Wow,” Mark said. “That's amazing. You can tell exactly what you were feeling—it jumps off that canvas. The slashes of paint are so strong."

"But what about this up here?” He pointed to one of the few areas with no paint.

"Don't touch anything,” Mark told him. “It's perfect just the way it is.” Mark walked to his canvas, taking it down from the easel and placed it inside the door before taking down the other two canvases. “The light's fading, so we'll only do one more.” Mark brought out three fresh canvases, setting the easels close together. “This time all of us will use all three canvases. We'll create three pieces together that represent all of us, and we'll do it in two minutes. Don't think, feel. Go!” Each of them grabbed a gun and paint flew, color streams hitting one another, making new colors and designs. Fast and furious they worked, dropping one gun and picking up another. “Done!” Mark called, and they stopped, each looking over their joint creation.

"It looks great,” Bobby said, stepping back slightly.

"It does,” Mark agreed with a grin. Dieter wasn't sure, but he liked it. “I'll put these aside to dry, and you two can pick up your work and one of the three we did together tomorrow. Did either of you eat dinner?” Dieter looked at Bobby, who looked at him and shrugged. “Okay. I'll get Tyler, and we'll meet at our place for dinner. Bobby, you call Kenny and see if he'd like to join us when he gets off duty.” Mark looked down at himself and then at them. “I think we all need to clean up and change."

They all helped bring in the supplies before washing everything out in the industrial sink. Dieter cleaned himself up before changing clothes. “I'm going to go talk to Tyler,” he told the other two before walking into the antique store and up the stairs. “Hey, Tyler,” he called from the top of the stairs.

"Hi, Dieter,” Tyler said as he set a lamp on a table. “How did it go?"

"Great,” Dieter answered with a smile. “It was a lot of fun."

"Good.” Tyler moved a table around a display before moving back to take a look at the display.

"I wanted to talk to you about the rest of the stuff in the attic,” Dieter said, stepping closer. “I'm ready to clean out the rest of it. A lot of the stuff up there I liked, so I moved things around, but there's way more than I'm ever going to use."

"You're serious?"

"Yup. Come over anytime and take what you want. I trust you to give me a fair price,” Dieter said, and they shook on it. “It's not doing anyone any good up there, and I have some of Gram's things I'm ready to see to. I need to make the house my own."

"Excellent. I'll let you know if I find anything really extraordinary and take care of the rest,” Tyler told him with a grin. Over the past few years, Dieter had sold Tyler a few pieces in addition to the trunk they'd originally found, using the money to fix up the house. But Dieter had held off on anything else.

"Thanks, Tyler. I appreciate that."

"Are you two ready?” Mark called, his voice carrying up the stairs.

"Yes,” Tyler answered, as they walked toward the stairs, descending to the main floor. They agreed to meet at Mark and Tyler's house. Bobby drove him back to his car, and Dieter drove home, singing along with the radio at the top of his lungs. He hadn't felt this good, this free, in a long time. Parking in the driveway, Dieter took his things in the house, putting them away before walking over to Mark and Tyler's with Bobby. Dieter rang the bell and instantly heard barking. Mark opened the door, and Jolie ran up to Dieter, rolling onto her back to get her belly scratched.

Dieter knelt down, scratching her belly until she rolled back over and raced back through the house. “Come on through. Dinner's almost ready,” Tyler said before leading them through the entrance hall and into the kitchen. “Mark's out back grilling the steaks,” Tyler explained before pulling the cork out of a bottle of Cabernet. “It shouldn't be much longer.” Tyler poured and handed them both glasses. The back door opened, and Kenny walked in, giving Bobby a hug and kiss before picking up his own glass.

"How were things today?” Bobby asked his partner softly.

"Quiet, thank God.” Kenny sighed before turning to Dieter and setting down his glass to exchange brief hugs. “Damn protestors who made big announcements about protesting a military funeral didn't actually show up. Not that I'm really complaining. No family who lost their son overseas should have to deal with those assholes, but we were on alert for trouble all day.” Kenny took a gulp of his wine before sliding an arm around Bobby's waist, obviously happy to be with his lover.

"I heard about that,” Dieter commented. “That group from Kansas is really screwed up."

"Yeah, they are,” Kenny agreed. “Let's talk about something better. How's the house coming?” Kenny asked him.

"Really good. I spent last summer painting the outside, and last winter I got most of the inside rooms repainted and the carpets pulled up. The floors underneath were in great shape. All I needed to do was clean them and put down a coat of finish. Lately I've been doing some landscaping."

"I saw,” Bobby said after lowering his glass. “It's looking really good.” The back door opened, and Mark came inside carrying a tray of steaks, setting it on the counter. Tyler set a huge bowl of salad on the counter, as well as some fresh fruit, and everyone filled plates as conversation filled the room.

"By the way, Mark, I almost forgot,” Dieter said once everyone was seated, cutting into the perfectly done steaks. “I met with the lawyer today, and he asked if he could meet with you. He had some questions he hopes you can answer.” Dieter didn't know what good it was going to do, but he was determined to do whatever he could to try to get Gram's paintings back.

"Sure. When did he want to meet?"

"Will Saturday work?” Dieter asked.

"Sure, about four?"

"He gave me his number. Let me call him and ask.” Dieter pushed back his chair and stepped away from the table so he wouldn't disturb everyone as he placed the call. “Gerald, it's Dieter. I'm with Mark, my artist friend, and he was wondering if four o'clock tomorrow was okay?"

"The sooner the better,” Gerald answered. “I'm free most of the day,” he offered.

"At Mark's studio?” Dieter asked, and Gerald agreed. Dieter told him where the studio was located before disconnecting the call. He'd wanted to ask how Gerald was doing and make small talk, but he didn't think that was appropriate. Putting his phone back in his pocket, Dieter rejoined his friends. “He'll meet us at the studio at four,” Dieter told Mark.

"What's the attorney for?” Bobby asked, and Dieter explained about the paintings and that they were seeing what could be done.

"No way!
The Woman in Blue
is your great-grandmother? That's so cool!” Bobby exclaimed in excitement.