Legal Artistry

by Andrew Grey

  Even keeping himself plenty busy for most of the evening, Dieter still found his mind turning to his loss. Gram had been the only family he'd had left, and now she was gone. Auntie Kate had passed away a few years ago, and Dieter still felt her loss as well. Those two women had raised and cared for him for as long as he could remember. He had vague memories of his mother and father, but as far as Dieter was concerned, Gram and Auntie Kate were his parents.

  "Dieter.” He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “You've been filling that same location for ten minutes,” Sean told him without heat. “It's slowed down now. Why don't you finish up, and we can talk if you'd like."

  Dieter emptied the last bottles from the case into the display before breaking down the box and carrying it to the recycling area. “Giuli's okay out front for a while,” Sean said as Dieter walked back by the office. “Come in and sit down.” Dieter sat on the futon, and Sean took the desk chair. “I know things can be a bit overwhelming right now, and if I can help, I will. You said there were things in the attic."

  "Tons. The thing is that some of it's really old, and I don't know what to do with any of it."

  "Well, that's easy. Give Tyler a call and he'll take a look. If there are things you want to sell, he'll give you a fair price,” Sean advised, and Dieter wondered why he hadn't thought of that before. “Doesn't he live just down the street from you?"

  "Yeah. He lives in the house that used to be his grandmother's. I should have thought of that. I've known him since I was a kid."

  "You would have. You're tired and overwhelmed. I want you to go home and get a good night's sleep,” Sean admonished lightly. “You'll think better when you're not so wiped out."

  Dieter agreed but didn't get up yet. “I was wondering if Bobby and Kenny were coming home from school this summer."

  "Kenny's staying at school to take some summer classes, and Bobby's spending part of the summer on an artist's retreat. Regardless, you have a job here if you want it, and I'm planning a number of special events this summer, so we'll be busy."

  "Thanks, Sean."

  "You're welcome. Now go on home and get some rest,” Sean told him with a concerned smile, and Dieter got up, taking his jacket. He hadn't slept well since before Gram's stroke, and he was definitely feeling it.

  "I'll see you tomorrow,” Dieter said before leaving the office. After hugging Katie, Sean's longtime salesperson and second in command, good-bye, Dieter walked to his car and drove home. He called it home, but to him, the house would always be Gram's. Parking his car, Dieter got out and closed the door, peering up at the dark house he'd lived in for as long as he could remember.

  "Dieter!” He looked around and saw Tyler coming down the sidewalk. “I wanted to see how you were doing,” Tyler told him as he approached.

  "Okay, I guess,” he responded with a sigh. “I was going to call you tomorrow. There's a bunch of stuff in the attic, and I don't know what to do with it. Sean said you might be able to look it over and give me an idea what some of it is."

  "Do you want to sell, or are you looking for an appraisal?” Tyler asked.

  "I want to fix up the house,” he said, looking at the front, where some of the paint had worn off.

  "I understand,” Tyler told him. “I'm booked with appointments for the next two weeks, but I can look in my book in the morning and let you know when I can come by."

  "Oh,” Dieter said. He knew he should be patient, but if he got some of the money together, he might be able to get some of the projects done during the summer while he wasn't in class.

  Tyler must have read the disappointment on his face. “Come on, then. Mark is still working, so I have an hour. Let's go take a look."

  "Are you sure?"

  "I've known you since you came to live with your grandma. I'll help you any way I can.” Dieter's fatigue seemed to slip away as he led Tyler up the walk. “You know, I can still remember you riding your bike with the training wheels up and down the sidewalk."

  "Thanks, I think,” Dieter replied as he unlocked the door, and he heard Tyler laugh.

  "Come on, let's go look for treasure,” Tyler told him as he turned on the lights. Dieter led the way up the stairs and then opened the attic door. Gram had always kept the door locked, and it had been the devil for Dieter to find the key.

  Dust motes floated in the air as Dieter turned on the light, leading Tyler up the steep, narrow stairway. At the top of the stairs, he got out of the way and let Tyler look. “Jesus, you weren't kidding. It looks like there's eight lifetimes of stuff up here,” Tyler told him as he began moving through a narrow winding aisle created by breaks between all the stuff. “Where did this come from? Your grandmother never seemed like the type to collect things like this,” Tyler inquired as Dieter watched him peer around a trunk.

  "Gram said Gramps kept dragging things home. She made him put anything she didn't like up here. Until she died, I doubt anyone had been up here in years.” Dieter walked to where Tyler was kneeling next to a trunk. “Did you find something?"

  "I think so, yes,” Tyler answered without looking up.

  "That's just an old trunk,” Dieter said, already moving away.

  "No, it's not,” Tyler explained as he pulled the trunk into the aisle. “Would you give me a hand?” Dieter helped him lift it. “It seems really heavy. Do you think we can get this down the stairs? I'd like to take a better look at it, and I can barely breathe up here."

  Dieter took one side and Tyler took the other. Carefully, they carried the heavy wooden box down the narrow stairs, setting it on the landing. Dieter turned off the light and shut the attic door. “Do you really think this is anything?"

  Tyler nodded, smiling broadly. “You see the interlaced iron work on the top? That's all handmade, and look at the lock.” Tyler pointed to the front of the trunk and lifted the iron cover.

  "There's no hole,” Dieter said, confused.

  "That's because the lock isn't on the front. That's a trick.” Tyler opened a small hidden iron flap on the top. “It's lucky you have the key,” Tyler commented as he untied the thong that held the key on and inserted it into the hole. “There's nothing delicate about opening this,” Tyler said as he strained to turn the key. At first, Dieter didn't think it would work, but the key turned almost all the way around, and then Tyler lifted the lid on the box.

  "It's empty,” Dieter commented, really disappointed. He'd hoped there would be something interesting inside.

  "Yes, but that doesn't really matter,” Tyler explained. “It's the trunk that's important. See the lock?” he said as he lifted the lid. “That is the lock, the whole underside of the lid. It's all hand done and between four and five hundred years old."

  Dieter's eyes bugged out of his head. “It's how old?"

  "This is a real treasure chest. It's continental, probably Spanish, I'd say, based on the decoration, and it could very well have been used to haul gold from the Americas back to Spain. This is an amazing find and probably worth six to eight thousand dollars. And I saw other things up there that could be interesting as well."

  Dieter felt his mouth hang open. At first he thought he'd heard Tyler wrong, but he saw Tyler's smile. “I'm not kidding. I have to tell you that if you want me to buy the piece, I can't give you that because that's what I could sell it for, but if you want to sell it, let me know. But don't make a decision right away. Think it over."

  Dieter could barely speak and simply nodded as Tyler helped him move the chest into one of the bedrooms. He led Tyler down the stairs and into the living room, feeling less worried than he had since Gram got sick. “Thank you, Tyler."

  "You're welcome,” Tyler answered, looking at one of Gram's photo albums on the table.

  "Those were Gram's. I was looking at them last night,” Dieter explained, picking up the one album to close the cover.

  "Do you mind if I look at that?” Tyler asked, and Dieter handed him the album, moving to peer over Tyler's shoulder.

  "That's Gram's p
arents,” Dieter said, pointing, “and that's Gram. That was taken in their house before the war.” Tyler looked at him and then back at the photograph. “The painting behind them on the wall is Gram's mother."

  Tyler stared at the photograph for a while longer before closing the album. “I'd like to ask a favor. I'd like Mark to see this. I promise I'll get it back to you tomorrow. Okay?"

  "Is something wrong?"

  "No. There are just some pictures that I know Mark would love to see. I'll bring it back."

  "Okay, and I'll think about the chest and let you know when I see you,” Dieter said as he walked Tyler to the door. After saying good night one more time, he closed and locked the door before walking back into the living room. Dieter sat down in one of the large chairs, the quiet of the house becoming almost oppressive. Over the past week, there were times when he'd wanted nothing more than to sell the house and move someplace that wasn't so full of memories. Everywhere he looked he saw Gram. Her chair was right across the room from where he sat. He hadn't had the heart to sit in it. Gram had taken care of him, and in a way she still was. He knew he couldn't bear to sell the house, but he also knew he had to make it his or he'd never be able to move on. Reaching to the coffee table, Dieter picked up the photo album that Tyler hadn't borrowed and began to thumb through it. He smiled at the pictures of Gram and Gramps. He didn't really remember him, but he could see how happy he'd made Gram. There were even a few pictures of Auntie Kate. The one he liked best was a picture of her holding his mother. Even then she looked old.

  Placing the album back on the coffee table, Dieter decided it was time for bed. He'd try to rest. The wine store didn't open till noon, and he could sleep in before going to work. Dieter turned out the lights before walking up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, the one that had been his since he'd come to live with Gram. He passed Auntie Kate's room, still made up as though she lived there. He passed Gram's, too, its door closed because he couldn't think about going in there without her, at least not yet.

  Dieter went into his room, closing the door behind him. This was the one place in the house where he didn't feel like Gram was going to walk into the room at any minute. Turning on the light, Dieter stripped off his clothes and put on his bathrobe, the one Gram had gotten him last Christmas, before padding to the bathroom to clean up.

  Showered and clean, Dieter went back to his room and climbed under the covers, hoping that sleep would come. But all he did was lie there, staring at the ceiling. Gram was gone, Auntie Kate was gone, and so were his parents. Dieter was the last of his family, and he felt very much alone. Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

  * * * *

  Dieter woke the way he always did on a Sunday morning, listening for Gram's footsteps, but of course he heard nothing. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes once again and fell back to sleep, waking again with the sun shining through the window. Sean had been right—Dieter felt better after a good sleep. Pushing back the covers, he got dressed and checked the clock before cleaning up and preparing to go to work.

  By the time he made it downstairs, it was too late for breakfast, not that he really wanted any. There were certain things he'd always miss, and Gram's breakfast was one of them. Retrieving his jacket from where he'd thrown it over the back of one of the chairs, Dieter left the house, locking the door before strolling down the walk to his car. He felt as though a cloud had parted and everything was going to be okay. Getting into the car, Dieter started the engine and eased out of his parking space and onto the quiet street.

  Dieter found a parking spot not far from Sommelier Wines. The store had a small parking lot, but Dieter tried to leave those spaces for customers, especially on weekends when the store was busiest. Walking to the front door, Dieter saw Sean inside working, and he rapped lightly on the door.

  "You're looking better,” Sean told him as he held the door open. “You must have gotten some sleep."

  "I did, and I talked to Tyler about the stuff in Gram's attic. He came over last night and looked around. You won't believe this, but he says that there're some great things up there, and he already found a real treasure chest. It's from the sixteen hundreds or something. You should come see it. The thing's really cool."

  "Have you decided what you're going to do with it?"

  "Yeah, Gram said the things in the attic were mostly stuff Gramps dragged home, so I'm going to sell what I can so I can fix up the house.” Dieter fidgeted a little. “And I think I need to make it look less like Gram's."

  "Good,” Sean told him as he relocked the door. “If you want to stay in the house, you need to make it your own. Otherwise it's just a memorial to your grandmother, and you'll never be able to move on. But like I said last night, take your time,” Sean cautioned. Dieter appreciated Sean's concern. Walking through the store, Dieter put his jacket in the office before getting right to work.

  "Dieter, I'm opening the doors,” Sean told him, and Dieter finished up his task, taking the empty boxes to the back and making sure there were no obstacles on the sales floor. A few customers trickled in and began to wander through the store. Sean greeted them and offered a tasting while Dieter continued filling shelves. As the store got busier, Dieter stopped filling and went into customer-service mode, helping people with their purchases.

  Later in the afternoon, Dieter saw Sean's partner, Sam, walk into the store, looking handsome in his police uniform. At one time, Dieter had had a bit of an infatuation with Sam, but he'd gotten over it. “Hey, Dieter, how are you holding up?” Sam asked after he'd greeted Sean with a quick kiss.

  "I'm okay,” he answered. It had become his stock answer, but he was starting to feel as though he truly would be. “It's getting easier."

  "You know if you need anything or just want to talk, either Sean or I will listen and do whatever we can.” Sam looked so serious but caring at the same time.

  "Thank you."

  Sam squeezed his shoulder before returning to Sean. Dieter saw them talking quietly for a few minutes, and then Sam said good-bye and waved before leaving the store.

  During a lull in the afternoon, Sean ordered sandwiches, and they took turns eating before returning to work and helping customers for the rest of the day.

  Near closing time, Dieter saw Tyler and his partner, Mark, enter the store, with Mark carrying Gram's photo album like it was a precious relic. Sean greeted them, and they talked for a few minutes before all three of them walked to where Dieter was just finishing with a customer. “Tyler and I have something we'd like to talk to you about,” Mark said very seriously. “Would you mind coming to the studio after work? It's important."

  Dieter looked to Sean, who looked confused, and then to Tyler, who looked as serious as Mark did. “Okay,” Dieter answered slowly, wondering what was wrong. He felt just like he had the day Gram found a certain magazine under his mattress.

  "It's not bad,” Tyler clarified, “but it is important."

  "I'll walk down after the store closes, if that's okay,” Dieter answered, becoming curious as to what they wanted to talk about and what Gram's photo album had to do with it. Mark and Tyler seemed pleased, and smiled. Mark continued holding the album, and after they purchased a bottle of wine, Mark and Tyler left, with Mark still carrying Gram's album. It looked sort of like he didn't want to let it go.

  For that last half hour, Dieter kept wondering what Mark and Tyler could want with him, and by the time the store closed, Dieter was jumpy, his nerves getting the best of him. “It's okay,” Sean told him as he closed the door. “I'll come with you if you want."

  "Thanks, Sean, but I'll be fine. I'm just wondering what they could want."

  "They didn't tell me,” Sean said as he emptied the money from the register, carrying it to the back. “Go on and find out. Sam is taking me to dinner, and he'll be here soon. He and I can drop the deposit on our way.” Sean had a rule about two people going to the bank with deposits.

  "If you're sure."

&nbs
p; "Go on, you look about ready to explode."

  "Thanks, Sean,” Dieter said as he grabbed his jacket. He heard Sean chuckle from behind him as they walked to the front door and Sean let him out, locking the door once he was outside. Dieter hurried down the sidewalk, walking the short distance to where Tyler had his antique store.

  Tyler seemed to be watching for him and opened the door as he approached. Dieter had walked by the store a number of times before, but he'd never been inside. Tyler closed the door behind him. A small dog, curled up in a doggie bed, lifted its head and barked softly. “Jolie, be good,” Tyler scolded, and the miniature dachshund got up and padded toward Dieter to investigate him. He let her sniff his hand and gave her a few gentle strokes. Satisfied, she turned and went back to curl up in her bed again.

  Tyler led the way through displays of bedrooms and living rooms, the store largely dark, but a number of things still caught Dieter's eye as they made their way toward the back of the store. “Where are we going?"

  "Mark has a studio in the back of the store, and he wants to talk to you there,” Tyler answered as he led them through a door in the back room. Tyler's partner, Mark, was quite a famous artist. Dieter had seen a few of his pieces when he was at Sean's. Mark had done an amazing portrait of Sean's son, Bobby, that hung in Sean's living room. Tyler opened a large door, and the scent of paint obliterated everything else. Mark sat on a stool behind an easel, brush in hand, his attention so riveted on what he was doing that he didn't even look up when the door opened.

  Dieter looked at Tyler, about to ask what was going on, but he stopped when he saw the warm, soft look on Tyler's face. Dieter closed his mouth and stood silently, watching Mark work for a few minutes. “Oh, you're here,” Mark said once he lifted his eyes from the canvas. “I get busy and don't hear anything,” he explained as he set aside his palette. “Let me clean up a minute, and I'll be right back.” Mark picked up his supplies, hurrying out of the studio, and Dieter stepped further into the large area. Paintings and canvases leaned against the far wall. One caught Dieter's eye, and he stepped closer to take a look. Mark rejoined them a few minutes later, and Dieter stepped away from the painting, curiously looking toward Mark.