When Art Falls

by Lorrain Allen

  I laugh. “Trust me, you’ve barely scratched the surface of the enigma that is Art.”

  “You’re a dirty little skank who’ll be thrown out on your ass soon enough.”

  I place my palms on the desk and lean in closer to her. “I’m the woman he’d kill for—the woman he can’t let go. I’ll never be replaced.” I leave, storming towards Art’s office.

  He has some explaining to do. His door is shut, but I barge in anyway, not giving a damn if he’s busy.

  He’s leaning back in the chair with his cell phone to his ear.

  “I need to talk to you.” I interrupt him mid-sentence.

  “I’ll call you back.” He ends the call. “What’s the problem?”

  “Are you fucking her?”

  “Who?”

  “Francesca! Don’t play stupid.”

  “Stop being ridiculous. I would never fuck an employee.”

  My eyebrows nearly shoot to my hairline at the declaration.

  “Well, you’re the exception.”

  “She wants you.”

  “Francesca and I have a strictly professional relationship, and that’s all it’ll ever be.”

  “She thinks you two are going to be together one day. She even called me a skank.”

  His expression becomes thunderous.

  “Sit,” he demands. “I’ll be back.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  In a few long strides, he’s out of sight.

  I plunk down in the chair. Shit, maybe I should’ve kept my big fat mouth closed. Jealousy got the better of me. She’s just so gorgeous and I’m so plain. I feel a little intimidated by her.

  He’s back a half hour later.

  “What happened?”

  “I fired her,” he says nonchalantly, sitting on the edge of his desk.

  “I didn’t want to ruin the woman’s livelihood for God’s sake.”

  “Calm down. Francesca will hardly be destitute. She’s a freelance consultant who comes in twice a week and has dozens of clients. Her services are no longer required.”

  “Because of me.”

  “No one is allowed to disrespect you.”

  “Except you.”

  “Correct. It’s quitting time, let’s go.”

  “Okay, you’re the boss.”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Wow, this house is amazing and the furniture is to die for,” Anneli gushes, running her fingers along the marble countertop. “This kitchen is a chef’s wet dream.”

  There was no sense in waiting thirty days to move, so we got up early this morning to get things going. I told Mom and Sebastian the news when I got home yesterday evening. Sebastian is over the moon, ecstatic about finally having a bedroom all to himself. My mom, on the other hand, has concerns. She thinks it’s a mistake to put our trust in Art, fearing we’ll be thrown out on the streets if he becomes angry with me. I explained that’s not the type of man Art is. We have our issues—there’s no doubt about it—but he’d never see Sebastian homeless. I’d bet my life on it. The move was easy since we only needed to pack our clothes and toiletries. Everything else was provided for, from silverware to appliances. What’s left behind will be donated to charity. Mom’s trepidation faded a little once she saw our new dwellings. She’s excited to have her own space as well. We’ve spent too many years living in close quarters.

  “Mom!” Sebastian yells.

  Anneli and I walk into the living room. He runs towards me in a flurry of cheerful delight.

  “My bedroom is amazing! I have a PlayStation 4, a Nintendo Switch, and loads of other cool stuff!”

  “I’m glad you’re satisfied.”

  “Art is the best ever! You should marry him!”

  That comment throws me for a loop.

  “He would be an awesome dad for me. Don’t you think, Mom?” He peers at me with hopeful eyes.

  Anneli makes a clucking sound, giving me a withering look.

  “I’m sure he would,” I answer.

  “You should ask him. And Mason would be my real brother. I’ve always wanted a brother.”

  “How about I make us some lunch?” I change the subject. “Go finish exploring your room and I’ll call you once it’s ready.”

  “Okay,” he says in disappointment.

  “I’ll help you,” Anneli says.

  She starts in on me as soon as we enter the kitchen. “Have you considered the repercussions of your actions and what it could mean for Sebastian?”

  “Of course I have.”

  “Does Art have such a hold on you that you’d jeopardize the happiness of your son?”

  “I’m doing this for his happiness.”

  “In the beginning you were, but not now.”

  “Stay out of my business, Anneli.”

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now? I’m your best friend. Your business is mine. And it’s my job to tell you when you’re fucking up big time. You’re not thinking clearly.”

  “I’m not having this conversation.” I open the refrigerator and gather lunch meat, cheese, and mayo for sandwiches before moving to the counter.

  “This was his plan all along.” She walks over to stand beside me.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The first step is dependence, which he’s accomplished. You depend on him for everything now, which is exactly what he wants. He purposely got you terminated.”

  “You’re being ridiculous. Art isn’t a psychic. He couldn’t have known Jerry and I would be walking together.”

  “Why was he at the school? Have you ever asked him?”

  What if she’s right and my judgment can’t be trusted? My love for him could be blinding me, causing me to overlook the glaring signs right in front of my face. The two people whose opinions I value the most disapprove of my relationship, and in truth, I don’t blame them. Were the roles reversed, I’d feel the same way.

  “No, I haven’t, but I can assure you it wasn’t for nefarious purposes. He’s a possessive jealous man. That’s all.”

  “He wanted a reason to cause trouble for you. Why can’t you see that?” she asks in frustration.

  “Art wasn’t going to hit Jerry until he reached for me.”

  “Why are you always defending him?” she yells.

  “Keep your voice down,” I whisper. The last thing I need is for my mom to hear the accusations Anneli’s throwing out. She’ll become paranoid all over again.

  “Your mother needs to hear this.”

  “She’s happy. Don’t ruin the day for her.”

  She grudgingly relents, lowering her voice. “I’m pretty sure Art has an undiagnosed case of bipolar disorder. The man needs professional help. My God, Cin, he permanently marked you. Only a crazy person would do that.”

  “Art and I may not make sense to other people, but we belong together.”

  “Please use your brain,” she groans.

  “I can’t. I have to use my heart.”

  “You both can live a happy life, Cin, but not together. It’s hard for you to face the truth because you love him.”

  “The thought of being without him is unbearable. Losing Art once nearly destroyed me. Losing him again would kill me. We’ll never be perfect, and that’s okay. I just want him.”

  “Leave him. We’ll get through the aftermath together,” she pleads.

  “Anneli, you’re more than a friend to me. I consider you my sister. But I won’t budge on this.” She opens her mouth to speak, but I hold up my hand. “Hear me out. I love you, and I’ll be forever grateful for your unwavering support throughout the years.”

  I abandon my task and fully face Anneli. It’s important she understands how serious I am and sees the determination in my eyes. I want her to accept that my mind will not be changed by her or anyone else.

  “I’m riding with Art until the fucking wheels fall off. Even if we crash and burn, I’m still not getting out. Please don’t let my decision come between us.”

  “I ca
n’t tell you how to live your life. But I’ll be there with a fire extinguisher to put out the flames and to help you escape if you decide you’ve had enough.”

  I throw my arms around her in a tight hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, babe.”

  Though the likelihood of Art and me finding our happy place is slim, I’m not ready to give up.

  The scene before me is so damn domestic. Cin prepares breakfast while the boys and I sit at the island bar. They play with action figures to keep themselves entertained until we’re served. Cin moves around my kitchen, humming and dancing. The sight is lovely. I doubt she even realizes what she’s doing. Cin is passionate about cooking, so she’s in her zone. She and Sebastian stayed the night. We still pretend to sleep in separate bedrooms in the best interest of the boys. Her movements cease and a pretty pink blush covers her delicate features when she catches me staring.

  “Don’t stop on my account.”

  The doorbell rings. Who the hell could be visiting this early on a Sunday morning? Marisa and Heather—Mason’s nanny—are off today.

  “I’ll be right back,” I say, leaving the kitchen.

  It has to be Josh or my grandfather. No one else would be bold enough to stop by unannounced. Only three other people have the code to the gate, and one is here with me. There’s not a lot of shit on this earth that can shock me, but I’m momentarily speechless by who I find waiting on my doorstep. I never thought I’d lay my eyes on her again. The audacity of this bitch to show herself after being MIA for so long is astounding.

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  “Hi, Art, it’s so good to see you,” my mother says. “Can I come in?”

  She hasn’t aged, still beautiful as ever—the perfect Barbie doll. Everything about my mother sickens me, from her perfectly styled hair to her designer clothes, shoes, and accessories.

  “How did you get the code to the gate?”

  “Your grandfather gave it to me.”

  Fucking asshole. The code will be changed, and he will not be privy to it. “You are not welcome here.”

  “Please, I want to see Mason.”

  “I will never allow you near him.”

  “You can’t keep me from him. I’m his mother and have a right to see him.”

  “You gave up your parental rights when you abandoned him three years ago.”

  “I made a terrible—”

  “Spare me your goddamn excuses.”

  “During that time, I was taking anti-depressants, and felt it was best to leave him with you.”

  “You’ve failed all of your sons.”

  “I tried my best to be a good mother.”

  “If that was you at your best, I’d hate to see you at your worst. You don’t have a maternal bone in your body.”

  “I’ll file a petition for visitation.”

  “My lawyers will bury you in a court battle. Try your hand if you think you have a chance at winning, but understand I’ll kill you before I let you hurt him.” I slam the door in her face.

  Going back to the kitchen is not an option in my current state, so I head to the gym instead. It’s my duty to protect them, even from me. They’re the most important people in my life.

  Where the hell is he? I went to his office, then the bedroom, but he’s nowhere to be found. His breakfast is getting cold. I head towards the gym next. There I find him, beating the shit out of a poor punching bag.

  “Art?”

  He turns wild eyes on me.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Go back to the kitchen!” he roars.

  “No. Not until you tell me what’s wrong. I just want to help.” I approach him warily.

  Whoever visited earlier pissed him off.

  “Leave, goddamn you!”

  “No.” I hold firm.

  He charges me, grips my throat with his powerful hand, and completely lifts me off my feet.

  “You push and push when you should quit while you’re ahead!” he shouts, hurtling me across the room.

  I hit the wall with a thud, causing air to whoosh from my lungs before sliding to the floor. Pain explodes in my right arm, but it doesn’t seem to be broken.

  “Please talk to me. Hurting me is not going to help you.”

  “Maybe not, but it feels fucking good.”

  “You’re going to rot from the inside out holding all this hate in your heart. It’s not good for you or Mason. Let it go before it’s too late,” I beg.

  The anger drains out of him at my words and is replaced with confusion. He looks so lost. Everything in me demands I comfort him. After clambering to my feet, I move cautiously towards him, testing the limits again. I don’t stop until the tip of his nose brushes against my forehead. I’m invading his personal space, hoping he doesn’t go on the attack once more. Slowly, I wrap my arms around him. He returns the embrace and squeezes tightly as he buries his face in my neck. I pull back, grasping his hand, and lead him to the exercise bench where we both sit.

  He takes a deep breath. “It was my mother at the door.”

  “What did she want?”

  “To spend time with Mason.”

  “And you don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “Of course not. Do you?”

  “I know your mom doesn’t have the best track record, but I think you should give her a chance. If Trevor were to show up one day asking to be a part of Sebastian’s life, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

  “How could you so easily let him back into your lives?” he asks in anger.

  “I owe it to Sebastian to give Trevor every opportunity to be in his life.”

  “There’s no turning back once I agree to this. If she bails, it’ll crush him and I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

  “If she doesn’t follow through we’ll be right there to offer Mason comfort.”

  He cups my cheek with the palm of his hand and rests his forehead against mine. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  That damn Cin can talk me into doing anything. I check my watch again in agitation, then glance at the entrance to the restaurant. My mother was supposed to meet me for lunch at noon, and it’s now twelve-fifteen. One thing I’m anal about is punctuality. She’s lucky I’ve waited here this long. I’ll give her another five minutes before leaving. I take another sip of wine, getting more irritated by the second. This was a bad idea. My mother is unreliable. Just as I decide to call the whole thing off, she enters the establishment, frantically searching for me. I raise my hand to get her attention. Spotting me, the worried expression on her face is replaced with a smile. She quickly strides to the table and sits across from me.

  “I’m so sorry for being late.” She wiggles her fingers, showcasing the bright red polish on her nails. “I decided to go to the spa this morning.”

  “I guess that’s more important than meeting me to discuss Mason.”

  “I’m only fifteen minutes late.”

  “Twenty.”

  “I apologized.”

  “Which doesn’t mean shit coming from you.”

  “I’ll never be good enough in your eyes.”

  “You’re right, you won’t, but this meeting isn’t about you and me. It’s too late for us. If you’ve really changed your selfish ways, I’m willing to allow visitation with Mason.”

  “You don’t know how happy you just made me.” She clasps her hands together in excitement.

  “How long do you plan to stay in Orlando?”

  “I’m meeting with a realtor after lunch to locate a permanent residence. I want to be close to Mason.”

  My mother’s intentions are good, but I don’t trust her to keep her word.

  “I’m only giving you this opportunity once. If you blow it, that’s it. Don’t reappear years from now asking for another chance.”

  “Thank you so much, Art. I’m so thrilled you called me.”

  “Your thanks are unfounded. If it wasn’t for Cin, this meeting would
never have happened.”

  “Oh, I remember hearing of her. Are you two together?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You love her. I can tell.”

  “Love is a foreign concept to you. You wouldn’t know the first thing about it. Anyway, we aren’t here to talk about my love life.”

  “Okay, you’re right. When can I see him?”

  “You can either wait for the weekend or you can see him tomorrow night.”

  “Tomorrow is great. I’ll take him to dinner.”

  “No. You can visit with him at my place. If it goes well, then you can take him to dinner Wednesday night.”

  “Right. I understand the need to ease him into this.”

  “Be there by seven, on the dot.”

  “I’ll be early. I promise.”

  I wish I could believe her. “I need you to answer one question.”

  “Sure.”

  “Who’s his father?”

  “It doesn’t—”

  “Answer the fucking question,” I snap. “He deserves to know.”

  “I only know his first name.” She suddenly finds the napkin in front of her interesting, too embarrassed to meet my gaze.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I met a fellow traveler in Greece, and we had a fling for a day or two. He left without saying goodbye.”

  “He’ll never know who his father is.” I sigh.

  Mason is probably better off not knowing, but he won’t see it that way. He’ll always have an empty hole inside him only the presence of a father could fill. I can attest to that firsthand. Though my father was around sometimes, he was never fully there. Not only will this be hard for Mason, but he’ll start to wonder if he has siblings out there. Maybe I should try to locate the guy for Mason’s sake. It will be damn near impossible though, given it’s been almost six years and my mother wasn’t even smart enough to ask for the guy’s last name.

  “I have to go.” I stand, pulling a few bills from my wallet and tossing them on the table. “Order whatever you want.”

  “But you haven’t eaten yet. I was hoping we could catch up and talk more.”

  “You shouldn’t have been late then.” I stride towards the exit, hoping I made the best decision for my brother.