by Claire Fogel
“You got it. It’ll be nice to see you there on our big day.”
It would be a few hours until it was time for dinner, so I left Joel and went back to my apartment to take a nap. That Irish whiskey had done a number on me. But at least I was calmer.
As I crossed Birch Street from campus, I spotted the green van approaching. Without thinking, I raised one hand and waved as I dashed into the house. I wasn’t sure why, but it made me feel better.
The yearly Barrett Art Show was held a week later. My parents weren’t able to make it this year. Mom’s pregnancy had made traveling difficult, but she promised they’d be there for my graduation, no matter how many stops they had to make along the way. I didn’t really mind that they’d be skipping the Art Show. The only painting I was going to display was my portrait of Adam. It was better they stayed home.
Two short weeks later we had a lot to celebrate! I graduated from the Barrett Art Institute on the twentieth of May, with my parents and Amy in attendance. Amy confided that the drive took three hours because they had to stop at almost every gas station so Mom could use the rest room! She rolled her eyes, saying, “I don’t think I’ll ever want to be pregnant.”
I couldn’t help laughing. My Elven intuition told me that Amy would one day have a very large family. I thought it best not to tell her that.
The work on the Gallery was almost complete. Christina had created a beautiful sign that was now hanging over the door. It was done in an elegant black script, “The Thornewood Art Gallery.” When I saw it hanging over the gallery’s entrance, I was thrilled. We’d done it!
The first time I walked through the thick plate glass entry door, I flipped a switch for the overhead lighting and stopped to admire how the colors of each work of art, some vivid, some soft, glowed against the stark white walls. As I walked across the plush pale gray carpeting, I didn’t hear a sound. It was perfect.
There were still a few paintings to be hung, but we were almost ready for our grand opening, scheduled for the Friday before Memorial Day.
Mr. Callahan had placed announcements in a dozen newspapers, including the New York Times. Christina had put him in touch with Winklet Web Design, a popular local web site designer, so that we’d have a presence online too.
Two days after our grand opening was June 1st. I would turn twenty, no longer a teenager. Which felt kind of weird.
Our Grand Opening was a huge success. The gallery was crowded from the time we opened Friday afternoon, until we closed at ten p.m. Mr. Callahan and my parents were there along with my cousin Jason, who was getting a crash course in charming potential art buyers. Needless to say, my handsome cousin was a natural. Everyone loved him, as well as the champagne and appetizers Amy and Gavin passed around. Amy was my caterer, of course!
My friends from Barrett all showed up, including Lily who still had eyes for Gavin, although Jason caught her eye too. She wanted to know if I would consider her photography worthy of displaying in our gallery. I told her I would. I already considered her photographs works of art.
Miss Galen was present, representing Francis Sullivan, myself, and two other artists she had recommended. She’d been right; I loved their work. She was also responsible for the discreet price stickers on each painting. Joel was still reeling from the very high price she’d put on his abstract canvas. I was delighted when she offered to represent him.
Paula and Tim were there too, standing proudly in front of Joel’s very large abstract painting, probably the most colorful painting on our walls. It was attracting a lot of attention, I was glad to see.
Thornewood’s art lovers mingled with art lovers from Manhattan and even New Jersey. I’d learned that no distance was too far for a true art lover, especially when it had been publicized that one of Francis Sullivan’s popular oil paintings would be shown.
Several of those out-of-town art lovers were disappointed to learn that the portrait of my father was not for sale, but happy to meet the live subject of the portrait. My father blushed frequently while my mother beamed at everyone.
At ten o’clock, the last person left, another Thornewood native who told me it was about time our little town had a first-class art gallery. I smiled and thanked her for coming.
Mr. Callahan emerged from the back room, where there was a desk, a sink and a small rest room. He waved a few sales slips at me, smiling widely. “We’re a big success, Cara. We sold five paintings tonight, including two of your drawings and that huge abstract piece.”
He chuckled. “I won’t be surprised if we find we’ve been cleaned out by the end of the weekend. I hope you can paint fast!”
I felt my eyebrows hit my hairline. Wow. I’d better start lining up more artwork quickly. I only had about four of my own paintings and drawings ready to go. I had to smile. Joel would be over the moon!
We had already decided that the gallery would only be open Friday through Sunday. After all, I needed time to paint, as well as time to collect the work of other artists to show.
As we left for the night, I paused in the doorway to look back at my gallery before I turned off the lights. It was a dream come true. I smiled at Mr. Callahan, turned off all but the security lights, and locked the door.
He walked me to my car and said good night. “Sleep well, Cara. You’ve already achieved a great deal for one so young. We’re all proud of you.”
I thanked him and started my car. I had achieved my dreams. All but one.
A surprising number of people drove up from the city Saturday evening, and although the gallery wasn’t as crowded as it had been the day before, there was still a respectable amount of traffic until we closed at ten.
My mother stayed home. Mom had been on her feet so much at the grand opening, she complained she couldn’t get her shoes on. But other than that, she said she was feeling great. Dad said he’d stop by for a half hour, which attracted a lot of attention as he came through the door. I actually heard a few ooh’s and aah’s from the ladies present. Not that I blamed them. And once again, there were disappointed sighs when I said that his portrait was not for sale.
I peeked into the back room and found Mr. Callahan at the desk. He smiled but preferred staying in the background. He finally admitted to me that dealing with the public was not his thing. He insisted that my cousin Jason and I should be the public face of the Thornewood Art Gallery and I agreed.
I had achieved my dream. Why did I feel incomplete?
My birthday was on Sunday. Mom insisted on a lavish birthday brunch since I’d be at the gallery at dinnertime.
I’d lost weight during the past six or seven months, and my mother had made it her mission in life to fatten me up. My clothes had gotten kind of loose, so I wasn’t arguing with her.
Kevin surprised me by coming home for the day. “I couldn’t miss your birthday, short stuff, not this year. Besides, I haven’t had your Mom’s cooking in much too long!” Mom swatted him with the dishtowel and then hugged him.
I’d already invited Amy to come over for my birthday brunch. When she walked in and saw Kevin already at the kitchen table, she hesitated, then shook her head and grinned.
“Hey, Kev, about time you brought your butt home.” He stood up and hugged her, dropping a kiss on her cheek.
“I missed you too, Amy. You look great.” He kept his arms around her a lot longer than usual. Judging by the looks they exchanged, they were ready to be friends again.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d really missed being with my two best friends, at the same time!
My parents exchanged smiles too. I think they were as pleased as I was.
A few minutes later, there was a knock at the back door and Conor and Arlynn walked in. “Happy Birthday, Cara.”
I collected hugs from both of them. Conor leaned down and whispered in my ear, “All grown up now, little sister. Congratulations.” I closed my eyes for a few seconds and leaned against his shoulder. He and I both knew what he meant, and I had to fight the tears that threatened.
But this was a birthday celebration. There would be no tears today!
The table was loaded with mouth-watering food. Mom was making very sure I’d start gaining weight immediately. There was my favorite Quiche, a baked ham, home-fried potatoes, pancakes of course, and a bowl of strawberries. It was my kind of feast.
Everyone was talking about the grand opening of our gallery and the artwork that had sold already. My mother wanted to know how quickly we would be able to find new paintings. Kevin asked if we’d be showing the work of local artists. Amy, of course, wanted to know how much money we made at the grand opening. My father chuckled.
I grinned at her. “You’re so mercenary. To be honest, I don’t even know. I’ll have to ask Mr. Callahan. But I think we’re doing well.”
After we’d all had coffee and tea, Conor and Arlynn left, and Kevin had to drive back to the city. “As soon as I’m finished with school, I’ll be home and I expect a personalized tour of the Thornewood Art Gallery, Cara. Seriously, I’m really proud of you.”
He gave me a rib-crushing hug and said goodbye to everyone, promising he’d be back soon. Amy got a one-armed hug, and Mom got half a hug, since getting any closer to her was now impossible.
I walked him to the door. “Thanks for making the trip, Kev.” He grinned, hugged me again, and ran down the steps to his Jeep. I was really looking forward to spending more time with him while he was home for the summer. He had no idea how often I’d wished I could talk to him to get the more confusing parts of my life straight in my own mind.
After Dad and I had cleaned up the kitchen and run the dishwasher, I went up to my room to take a short nap. I wouldn’t be sleeping here much longer. My furniture and other belongings had already been delivered to my next door studio from my apartment on Birch Street. I could start living there as soon as I was ready.
As I snuggled into my pillow, I was wondering if I was really ready. I’d better be. A tiny person would need my room in another month or so. I think I was smiling as I fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was almost three so I leaped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to splash cold water on my face. I brushed my long hair quickly, pulling it up into a high ponytail. Since I knew I looked about sixteen, I coiled the ponytail around itself and pinned it in place, which I thought was a more grown-up look, suitable for a young woman who just turned twenty.
I went to my closet to see what I could find for a “birthday look.” I heard my mother’s voice at the door.
“Here, dear, try this on. Consider it a birthday present. I saw it at Van Horn’s and thought it would be perfect for you since there’s no way I’ll be getting into it any time soon.”
It was a cherry-red sundress with a halter top and a flared skirt. She knew I never wore dresses, but it was really cute. “Thanks, Mom. This is perfect. Definitely a birthday look.”
“Well, dear, now that you’re a business owner, I think it’s time you got some new clothes, and they’d better not be jeans!”
I giggled. “I hear you, Mom.”
She went back downstairs and I got dressed. I put on my white sandals and a pair of small gold hoop earrings Amy had given me for my birthday. She’d also given me blusher and rosy-colored lip gloss, so I dutifully put them on after I pulled the sun dress over my head. There.
I looked in the mirror. I didn’t look like a teenager anymore. Mission accomplished.
I went downstairs, collected more birthday hugs from my parents and went out to my car.
There were two parking spaces behind our gallery. Mr. Callahan’s car was already in one of them when I pulled in. He had undoubtedly already unlocked the front door and turned on all the lights.
I entered through the back door and found Mr. Callahan sitting at the desk, reading the paper.
He looked up and smiled. “Good evening, Cara. Are you manning the gallery alone tonight?”
“I guess so.” I rolled my eyes. “I forgot to make arrangements to get Jason over here.”
He nodded. “If it gets busy, I’ll make the supreme sacrifice and go out there to talk to customers.” He rolled his eyes, making me laugh.
I dropped my bag on the desk, walked to the gallery entrance, and froze. Literally.
Standing in front of my father’s portrait was a tall, slender man wearing jeans, hiking boots and a blue denim shirt.
I couldn’t breathe.
I knew that perfect profile. I knew that shaggy black hair, always a little too long.
He turned and walked to the front door.
I knew his stride, the way he swung his arms at his sides. I knew the way he held his head, moved his shoulders.
Before I knew it, he was outside, heading down Main Street.
I started breathing again and raced to the front door, but by the time I got outside, his long legs had already carried him half a block away.
I stood there staring at his back.
He told me once that Elves have excellent hearing, so I didn’t raise my voice.
“Adam.”
He stopped abruptly, his head bent down. I saw his shoulders rise and fall, as though he’d just taken a deep breath. He turned and faced me.
Even from this distance, I could see those dark blue eyes pinned on my face.
His voice was as soft as I remembered it.
“Cara. All grown up. More beautiful than ever.”
“What are you doing here?”
One corner of his lips turned up slightly. I knew that look.
“I heard there was a new Art Gallery in town. I wanted to visit it, perhaps see more of my favorite artist’s work.”
He began walking toward me.
I shook my head. “Stay there.”
One dark eyebrow lifted. “Do you want to have this conversation here, on Main Street?”
“I’m not sure I want to have a conversation with you at all.”
He nodded and took a deep breath. “You’re angry.”
Didn’t he think I would be?
“It’s been four years, Adam. You left me without even a goodbye.”
“Actually, love, it’s been three years, eight months, and twenty days. I’ve missed you every minute of those three years, eight months, and twenty days.”
“Really? Why did you leave? Couldn’t you at least have spoken to me first?” Didn’t he understand why I was angry?
He took another deep breath and looked into my eyes. I’m not sure how he’d done it, but he was now standing only a few feet in front of me. Damn. His dark blue eyes were doing strange things to my heart, which was doing a weird tap dance in my chest.
“Cara, leaving you was the single, hardest thing I’ve ever done. But I had to.”
“Adam, you kissed me, rocked my whole world, and then you left. You broke my heart! Why?” My voice was shaking slightly.
He sighed, not answering for a few long seconds. He looked at me, his dark eyes glittering with emotion, his voice still soft.
“I had given your father my word that I would keep my feelings to myself, that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.” He took a deep breath. “If I’d stayed, I would have broken my word. I would have kissed you again, and again. I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you. Cara, you were only sixteen, and I might have hurt you. I had to leave. Don’t you understand?”
I felt those disloyal tears welling and fought them back.
“You never even said goodbye, Adam.”
He shut his eyes, taking another deep breath.
“Cara, if I had seen you again, do you really think I could have said goodbye?”
I didn’t know what to say. I was getting lost in his dark blue eyes.
My anger was fading. But there were still things I needed to know.
“Where have you been for three years, eight months, and twenty days, Adam?”
“Never far from you, love.”
“But where did you go?”
“I’ve been living in the human world. I felt I had to.”
/> “Why?”
His smile was tender. “Because that’s where you live.”
“I thought you would have moved on to another Elven village somewhere.”
“No, love. I didn’t want to be too far away from you. I hadn’t realized that you still needed a bodyguard, but you did. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have left when I did. I would never have put your life at risk.” Now he sounded angry with himself.
“How did you know I still needed a bodyguard?”
“I learned that a man tried to cut your throat.”
“Who told you about that?”
He had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m a telepath, Cara.
“Gavin has saved your life more than once. He’s been doing the one job I should have been doing. I owe him a great deal.”
I wanted more answers.
“Adam, how have you been able to live? It costs money to live in the human world.”
“I’ve done all kinds of work. Carpentry, gardening, school crossing guard.” He smiled. “That was my favorite job. The children were great.”
Gardening?
“Where exactly have you been living?”
He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Here . . . and there. Never too far.”
“How do you get around? Did you learn to drive?”
He wore that familiar amused look. “I sat through your driving lessons, remember?”
“And you have a car?”
“Sort of.”
“Sort of?”
He smiled and pointed to the corner at the end of the block.And there it was. An old green van with green curtains at the back windows.
I was barely breathing. “I don’t believe it . . . That was you, all those times . . .”
He nodded, his heart in his eyes.
“You got a license? You have I.D.?”
“Yes. Mr. Callahan was very helpful when I went to see him the day I left. I knew I’d need those things to survive in your world.”
