The Joining Tree

by Claire Fogel

  “I don’t know what to say, Dad. That’s a really generous offer. Do you think we could get started on the studio this summer?”

  “Of course. I’ll ask Harry Callahan to recommend a local builder. You’ll need things like electricity and plumbing for the studio, so my men won’t have all the skills that are needed. I’m sure Harry knows some good people we can hire.”

  I was so excited, it was hard to concentrate on my driving! Nevertheless, I managed to keep the car on the road, and we arrived in Albany safely.

  The hotel Mom booked was a lot nicer than the one where we’d stayed before, and the suite was perfect; two bedrooms separated by a cozy sitting room. Very elegant.

  We rested for a few hours, got lunch sent up from Room Service—something else I could easily get used to—and left for the Jourdan Gallery around four. We didn’t see Miss Galen when we arrived, but Mr. Jourdan, the owner, greeted us warmly.

  “Ah, Miss Blackthorne, so nice to see you again. And this must be your father. Welcome to the Jourdan Gallery, Mr. Blackthorne. Cara, you sent us so many of your pen and ink drawings, my clients will be overjoyed. I can’t help wondering how someone so young can create drawings that appear to be from an earlier century. Many of my clients are fans of yours since your first show last year. Please come and see how we have displayed your work.”

  We followed him to the rear of the gallery where my drawings and the two watercolors had been hung. The lighting was perfect, the placement ideal. My artwork could be seen from anywhere in the gallery. Mr. Jourdan was beaming, clearly pleased. So was I.

  He left us to greet some early-arriving clients as Miss Galen emerged from a back room. She was, of course, especially pleased to see my father with me.

  We wandered around the gallery, looking at all the beautiful art being displayed at this show. I was delighted to see Win Mason’s artwork again. His street scenes, full of people and action everywhere, were wonderful. Even my father found Win’s work fascinating.

  “I’d love to buy one of Win’s paintings, Dad. They’re so exciting. The people he paints practically jump off the canvas, don’t they?”

  From behind us, we heard a voice. “Thank you, Cara. Perhaps we can work out a ‘friends and family’ discount for you!”

  I turned to see the short, stocky young man grinning at me.

  “It’s so nice to see you again, Win. Your work is even more exciting than it was last year.”

  “Thank you, Cara. Hi, Mr. Blackthorne.

  “I’ve been admiring your pen and ink drawings. I heard that you wouldn’t sell any of them last year. I hope you’re willing to sell these new drawings. They have a really nostalgic appeal.”

  We chatted with Win for a few more minutes until Miss Galen waved us over to talk to the same couple I’d met last year, the ones who wanted my ‘Elf drawings’ so badly. They were delighted that these new drawings were available for sale. I had six displayed, and they were buying four of them—at prices that made me gasp.

  When I mentioned the very high prices to Miss Galen, she just laughed and said, “It’s the law of supply and demand, Cara. Your work is very much in demand.”

  A few hours passed while we chatted with customers and sipped champagne—I was given the real stuff this time, under my father’s watchful eye, of course.

  By the time we left around eight, there were “Sold” stickers on all of my artwork.

  “Is there a good restaurant nearby, Cara? Your mother told me about a steak house you visited on your last trip.”

  “Yes! You’ll love the steaks.” I drove a few blocks to the restaurant where my father and I enjoyed Ribeye steaks, perfectly broiled, along with twice-baked potatoes and Caesar salads.

  My father pronounced the meal “perfect.” And it was. We returned to our hotel feeling well fed and very tired, and without being mugged. When I showed my father where last year’s attempted mugging had taken place, he immediately pulled his knife and hurried me to my car.

  On our way back to our hotel, he chuckled and admitted the steak dinner had been almost worth the risk of being mugged. I reminded him that no mugger in his right mind would risk attacking him.

  We called Mom to let her know the show was a success. I left Dad talking on the phone with Mom while I took a shower and went to bed.

  Even though I was well pleased with the way my artwork was selling, I still felt kind of empty, as though something vital was missing. I had hoped my art would fill up my life, soothe that emptiness.

  It wasn’t enough.

  A week later, I turned eighteen. Legally at least, I was now an “adult.” Funny, I didn’t feel any different.

  Mom made Lasagna for my birthday dinner, with Amy, Conor, Arlynn, Kathleen, and Gavin joining us around the kitchen table. Kevin couldn’t make it, but he called to wish me a happy birthday and said he’d be home soon, which was good news. I really missed him.

  After we had polished off two pans of lasagna, my father took Gavin outside “for a talk”, leaving the rest of us around the table.

  I had a lot of catching up to do with Conor, Arlynn, and Kathleen since I’d barely seen them for months. But I was worried about Gavin. I was afraid my father had lost confidence in him.

  Conor wanted to hear about my plans for building a studio on the lot next door, an idea everyone was in favor of. The prospect of having my own studio was really exciting. Plus, it took my mind off the conversation my dad was probably having with Gavin.

  When my father came back into the kitchen alone, I feared the worst. Amy looked worried, and I knew she was aware of Gavin’s own fears.

  Shortly after my father returned, she said she had to get home. When I walked her to the door, she hugged me and asked me to call her later.

  Conor, Arlynn, and Kathleen were the next to leave, all of them again wishing me a happy birthday.

  I sat down at the table with Mom and Dad. Mom had made another pot of coffee, obviously aware that a serious discussion was about to ensue.

  “Dad, why didn’t Gavin come back with you?”

  “I think Gavin’s ashamed of himself right now, Cara. He’ll be at my camp until you drive back to school. He wants to finish the school term. I believe he has several art projects to complete. But he won’t be returning to school with you next year.”

  “Was that your decision or his, Dad?”

  “It was his. He thinks, as I do, that you should have some kind of protection while you’re at school, but he also knows that he’s not really suited for that job. I’m not angry with Gavin, sweetheart. I know how difficult his life has been. For many reasons, Gavin is too emotional and I can see that he lacks self-confidence, which is why I can’t rely on him to keep you safe. He still has a lot of maturing to do. He’ll have time to do that while he works in the forest with Conor. But I also want him to spend more time in Elvenwood.” He smiled. “He has volunteered to give our children art lessons, which I think is an excellent idea.”

  “Dad, Gavin is so talented, and such a gentle young man, I think he’ll make a wonderful teacher. But I want you to know that I’ll really miss him.” I was already feeling the loss. “He’s been more than just a roommate or a bodyguard. He’s been a great friend too, something I needed this past year.”

  “I know you did, and I’m glad Gavin was there to keep you company. But now I have to decide who to send with you next year.”

  I groaned. “Please don’t make that decision now. I’m not sure I want another roommate, not to mention another bodyguard. After all, that missing SUV driver seems to be long gone. I don’t think he poses a real threat. I do have friends at school, male and female, and I think I can take care of myself. Lieutenant Fox gave me his home phone number too. He wants me to call him any time I have a problem. Dad, I think I’ll be fine without a bodyguard next year.”

  Mom and Dad looked at each other, clearly unsure what steps they should take next. And we left that subject there for the time being. There were plenty of other things to tal
k about, like my proposed studio, the most recent Art Show in Albany, and how I planned to spend my summer.

  Before I went upstairs, I went out on the back porch to sing Rowenna’s song. She didn’t stop in the yard that night, but I heard her rusty voice in my head.

  Thank you, Cara. I’m wishing you happiness on this day of your birth. I spoke to Alicia a few days ago and she told me there would be a small celebration tonight. Your birth was an auspicious occasion, my young friend.

  Her magic felt like a soft hug wrapped around me. That magic was her gift to me. It always made me feel protected.

  I sighed and went inside. I still had to call Amy.

  “Well, what’s the verdict, Cara?”

  “You’ll probably consider it good news, Amy.” I explained my dad’s decision, including the fact Gavin would be teaching Art to the kids in Elvenwood.

  “Oh! That is good news. He’ll also be home more, which will be great for us. As long as Gavin isn’t upset about this, I think your father made a good decision.”

  “Yeah, I think so too. Of course, now he’s thinking about sending someone else to school with me as my bodyguard. I’m trying to talk him out of it.”

  “You don’t feel you need a bodyguard at school?”

  “Not really. No one’s after me, as far as I can tell, and I have friends there. Lieutenant Fox is only a phone call away,” I said with a chuckle.

  “Hmm. I haven’t even met your Lieutenant yet, Cara. Are you sure there’s nothing going on there?” That question was part curiosity and part teasing.

  “Nothing more than friendship, Amy.”

  “Well, best friend, don’t rule it out if he’s as nice and as good looking as he sounds.”

  “Give it a rest, will you? You know how I feel.”

  “Okay, okay. Call me next time you’re home, okay? And happy birthday again, Cara.”

  Not tired enough to sleep, I stood at my bedroom window and looked out at the forest in the moonlight. I was suddenly overcome with memories, the kind I’d tried to shut out for almost two years. I could almost hear Adam’s voice in my head again, telling me he missed me when we’d been separated for a few weeks. I remembered his laugh when I’d asked him when he’d be going to the Joining Tree. He’d said, “Not until you grow up, love.”

  Had he meant it? Or was he just teasing me as he often did?

  I was eighteen, legally an adult. I finally admitted to myself that I’d held out a tiny hope that he would now consider me “grown up” enough, and come back to me.

  But he hadn’t.

  Gavin and I went back to school on Sunday. School would be out for the summer in less than two weeks, and we both had some work to finish.

  The Barrett Art Institute didn’t give out grades the way other schools did, although some special projects would be given a grade. Instead, each student had a sit-down meeting with each of our instructors to discuss our work and the progress we’d made in the past year.

  The Art History classes weren’t graded either, and there were no exams. Mrs. Barrett held the opinion that Art History was simply meant to inspire us, not give us something we had to study and be tested on.

  I had really loved my Art History classes. It had been fascinating to learn how artists from hundreds of years ago had worked, especially with the materials they used and the paints they had to make themselves. Modern artists had it easy, by comparison.

  I also had to get together with Laurie Williams and arrange for next year’s rent. There was always the slight chance that our experience with the police would have convinced her I was not the ideal tenant, but I was pretty sure she wouldn’t ask me to move out. She told me once that I had brought some needed excitement into her quiet life. But I knew she’d miss Gavin, who had always been helpful to her around the house.

  All of my instructors were pleased with my work, especially in Oil Painting. Miss Alvarez, my instructor, told me I’d made great progress this past year. Of course, I knew my progress was due mainly to Francis Sullivan’s help, not my instructor’s.

  Next year I would have to do some still life painting, not something I was particularly interested in, but it was required. As was the Life Drawing class with Daniel Goldman. That prospect gave me goose bumps. I wasn’t sure I would ever enjoy drawing and painting nudes! When I mentioned it to Lily, she laughed and told me I didn’t know what I was missing.

  Our little dinner group was disappointed to learn Gavin wouldn’t be returning in September. Especially Lily and Freddy. He explained it by telling them that his year of art classes had been sufficient training to teach art to the children at home.

  “Actually, my main interest is forestry and working outdoors, especially caring for wildlife,” he told them at dinner one night. “Art is more of a hobby than a career for me. I love working in Blackthorne Forest. It’s a truly beautiful place.” He glanced at me and smiled. “Cara can tell you about it. I think she’s spent most of her life in the forest.”

  Joel looked at me somewhat strangely and nodded. “That would explain why she’s always seemed different from the rest of us, just as you do, Gavin.” I wondered what he meant by “different.”

  Gavin looked at me, clearly surprised. I don’t think either of us realized how we appeared to everyone else. I’d always felt “different” until my senior year of high school, but I think my relationship with Sean and getting to know most of his friends had allowed me to feel that maybe I did fit in.

  Our last night at Barrett, a party was held in the Café, compliments of Mrs. Barrett. We feasted on Fettucine Alfredo, Baked Chicken, several kinds of salads, which pleased Paula, and what was called “Death by Chocolate” cake, seven layers of yummy chocolate goodness. Needless to say, we stuffed ourselves. I’d never seen the Café so packed. We had to eat in shifts.

  All the third-year students were getting good-bye hugs, and email addresses and phone numbers were being exchanged. It was a fun night. We’d all be leaving for home in the morning.

  After we’d packed up everything we wanted to take home, and cleaned out the refrigerator, we went upstairs to see Laurie Williams and say goodbye. She invited us in for coffee and Danish. I’d already let her know that Gavin wouldn’t be back, which saddened her.

  “I’m really going to miss you two for the next few months, you know.” She leaned down to pet Ralph and told him, “I’ll miss you too, Ralph.” His little stub of a tail wagged like mad.

  “Gavin, it’s been a pleasure having you here. I hope you’ll be happy back home, and I think you’ll be a wonderful art teacher.”

  We thanked her for putting up with my problems over the past year and for being so understanding.

  I knew I’d be back in a little over two months, but I’d miss my cozy apartment as well as the roomy studio—something I didn’t have at home.

  As we were loading up my car, a police car pulled up behind me with Lieutenant Fox behind the wheel.

  He got out and walked over to us. “I hope you weren’t planning on leaving Syracuse without saying goodbye,” he said with a smile.

  “Hi, Lieutenant. I’m glad you stopped by. I wanted to thank you for being a good friend to us this past year.”

  Gavin took the Lieutenant’s arm and led him away from my car. I wasn’t sure what he wanted to talk to the Lieutenant about, but I suspected it had something to do with protection for me, which I really didn’t think was necessary. The men in my life all seemed to equate my small size with my need for manly protection, which always irked me. And that reminded me I needed to start practicing with my knives again while I was home for the summer.

  Finally they walked back to my car, shook hands, and Gavin got into the passenger side after hooking up Ralph’s harness in the back seat.

  The Lieutenant gave me a warm smile and an unexpected hug.

  “Cara, I’m going to miss you, as well as all the excitement that seems to find its way to you.” He grinned, which dazzled me, probably because he was usually so serious.


  He looked down at me. “I hope you have a good summer. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you when you get back. Be sure to give me a call so I can alert the rest of the force.” He laughed.

  I just shook my head and rolled my eyes.

  As we drove away from Birch Street, I saw that green van turn the corner at the end of the block. I couldn’t see the driver, of course, so I gave a quick toot of my horn and waved out the window as we headed for the highway. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard a brief toot in return.

  Gavin and I talked about a lot of things on the way home. Every time he began to apologize for letting me down, I reminded him that he was the one who put an arrow in Romanov’s back, saving me from having my throat cut!

  “Please stop apologizing. And you’ve been a great roommate—no wet towels on the bathroom floor, clothes always hung up and put away, not to mention you’ve made more meals for us than I did.”

  He chuckled, nodding.

  “And more importantly, you’ve been a wonderful friend. I’m really going to miss you, you know.”

  “Who do you think your father will send with you in September?”

  “I don’t really want him to send anyone. After all this time, I don’t think anyone is after me. Besides, I can take care of myself. I’ll be doing more practicing with archery and knives this summer. You should join me when you have time.”

  “Yes, I will.” He grinned. “Of course, you also have Lieutenant Fox at your beck and call. I’m sure he’ll come running if you need him.”

  “Yep. He’s asked me to keep his home phone on speed dial, just in case. But I really don’t expect any problems next year.”

  “You know, Cara, I think the good Lieutenant has more than a professional interest in you. I’ve noticed the way he looks at you.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, please. I think he sees me as a potential disaster in the making that he needs to keep an eye on. Nothing more!”