The Artist's Paradise

by Pamela S Wetterman

  “Honey, it’s me. I’m home.”

  Mister Tubbs pranced toward Jonathan. His body took on the shape of the letter C as his stubby tail wagged.

  Jonathan bent down and scooped Mister Tubbs up into his arms. “Hello, Buddy. I’m glad you’re here. Where’s Mommy?”

  “I’m right here,” Angie whispered.

  He gasped. She stood a few feet in front of him. He handed Mister Tubbs to her. “I’m glad you’re still here. I was afraid I’d missed you.”

  Her puffy eyes said she’d been crying. Red eyes, no makeup, her hair in tangles, his Angie was still a beautiful vision.

  “May I come in?”

  Angie nodded. She set Mister Tubbs down onto the floor and leaned up against the fireplace. Jonathan followed her into the living room and took a seat in his blue leather recliner.

  “I must say, I’m a little surprised to see you,” she said—her voice cold and indifferent. “After you left home last night, I thought we might be a thing of the past.”

  He shook his head. “I know I left like a madman. But that was stupid. I want to understand you and what you want to do in Knoxville. Tell me again. This time, I’ll listen, promise.”

  She settled herself into the wing chair by the fireplace. Raising her head, she glared at Jonathan. “I’m not sure where to start. Susie introduced me to a brilliant artist. He’s a professor at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.” She leaned closer. “Each year he accepts one gifted student for a nine-week intensive study.” She continued with increased tempo, “He asked me to paint a scene for him, and I did.” Angie sat back in her chair and paused.

  “And?”

  “And after he reviewed my watercolor, he chose me to mentor for the summer. Can’t you see it’s a chance in a life-time?”

  What could he say? He didn’t want her to go. He certainly didn’t trust this professor, but she needed a response.

  “I understand why you are so excited. But aren’t there gifted art teachers here in greater Chicago? Surely we could find someone as good as this professor, closer to home.”

  Angie clasped her hands in her lap, and glared at him in silence.

  “Remember how we planned on remodeling the sitting room to create an artist studio next to our bedroom? The north light’s perfect, and there’s plenty of room. We can even set up a special place for Mister Tubbs to watch you paint.”

  Still no response.

  “What are you thinking? I can’t read your mind.”

  “I want Professor Turner. I’ve seen his work. No one could be as talented as he is.”

  Jonathan shifted in his chair. “How can you think of being gone for over two months?”

  “You aren’t home much anyway. You could visit me. We could talk every night on the phone. The time will pass quickly. It’s what I really want.”

  “What about Mister Tubbs? Would he go too?”

  “No. The professor’s allergic to him. I can ask Vicki to watch him while I’m gone.”

  If Mister Tubbs wouldn’t be going, this was more serious than he’d realized. “If you go, I want to keep Mister Tubbs here. I’ll hire a sitter to walk him three times a day, and when I get home, I’ll take him out myself. I can feed him in the mornings and evenings.”

  “When I go, will you really come home every night and take care of my baby?”

  “Yes.”

  Angie stood and stretched. “I am going, with or without your consent. I don’t need it, but if you support my decision, it would mean a lot to me. How much do you really love me?”

  A lump formed in his throat. How much did he love her? Enough to put her needs first? Joe told him nothing had happened—yet. But movie stars fell in and out of love with their co-stars. The arts carried emotion within the creative process. What if he lost her to this man?

  He sat up, leaned forward, and said, “I love you more than you know. If I say no, I could lose you forever. If I say yes, I could lose you to another man. Either way, I could lose the most important person in my life.”

  She crossed the room, knelt down in front of his chair, and took his hands into hers. “I want to paint. I’ve loved watercolors for as long as I can remember. My first art show, I placed fifth. Maybe one day, I could be first. You love the courtroom drama. For me, it’s the passion of creating. That’s why I want this chance. No other reason. Trust me.”

  “When would you leave?”

  “Not for a few weeks. The summer study begins after the spring term ends.”

  Jonathan’s eyes burned. “The most difficult part of loving someone is giving them the space to be their own person. I do trust you. Mister Tubbs and I will be fine while you blossom into the best artist in centuries.”

  Angie jumped up into his lap and hugged and kissed him frantically. Mister Tubbs joined in the game.

  Jonathan’s pulse raced and pounded in is ears. No reason to bring up marriage counseling. Maybe he would mention it when she returned—if she returned.

  #

  Angie masked her happiness as Jonathan readied for work on Thursday morning. Finally, the front-door security-tone rang. He was gone. She released her breath and the tightness in her chest vanished. Was it a dream? She hadn’t dared share her happiness with Jonathan. He would attempt to stop her from going if he believed it possible. He felt threatened. When she returned home, ready to embrace her passion for painting, he would understand that this trip was the best gift he had ever given her. Much better than something his assistant purchased for their anniversary. He put her needs first—giving her freedom to rekindle her artistic skills.

  She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Vicki. “I’m going to Knoxville. If the professor will have me, I’ll be his next summer intensive student. I’m excited and anxious at the same time.”

  “And Jonathan has no objections?”

  Angie described her encounter with Jonathan. “I won. He gave in after one night at the Carlton.”

  “I’m not sure you should look at this like a win/lose situation. What if you win the tutoring and lose your husband?”

  She pulled the cell from her ear and shook her head. Why was Vicki against her going back to Knoxville? “Look. I know you think there’s something wrong with the professor. But Susie knows him a lot better than you do, and she adores him. Can’t you be happy for me?”

  Vicki was silent.

  “Well?”

  “I’ll be happy for you because it’s what you think you want. Be very careful. My sixth sense tells me the professor isn’t all you think he is. If I’m right, pack up and come home immediately. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize for being suspicious.”

  Angie stiffened her back and said, “You don’t need to worry about me. This’s the chance of a lifetime. Professor Turner is gifted and willing to share his knowledge. I hope he hasn’t gotten someone else as his summer student.”

  Vicki sighed, “Do you need any help? Who will care for Mister Tubbs?”

  “I’m fine. Jonathan arranged for a pet sitter for work days, and he promised he’d be home evenings and weekends.”

  “Tell him if he gets into a pinch to call me. I can always fill in for him.”

  “I’ll let him know. I need to run. If I can firm up my study with the professor today, I’ll be on my way to Knoxville in less than three weeks. Thanks for understanding.”

  #

  Angie searched for the professor’s business card. Pulling it out of her wallet, she plopped down on the edge of the bed. What if she was too late? She would never find anyone as gifted. He’d said he wanted her to be the student for the summer. Surely, he hadn’t filled that slot in just two days. Her hand shook as she punched in his number. He picked up immediately. “Professor, its Angie Rhodes.”

  “I’d hoped you’d call. Tell me your answer is yes.”

  She giggled, “Yes, I can come if you’ll have me.”

  “You’re my first and only choice. When can you come? We need to get started on your lessons. You have raw talent that
requires development.”

  Angie smiled. He planned to bring out the very best in her.

  “I’ll be there as soon as the spring session of school is out, the third Monday in May.”

  “Perfect. May I contact you next week to make sure you bring everything needed?”

  Angie stretched out on the bed, cell phone held close to her ear. How she loved the raspy sound of his deep voice. His attention felt wonderful. Jonathan could take a lesson or two from this man. “You can call me anytime. This number is the best one to reach me.”

  “And your dog? Have you made arrangements for him?”

  “Mister Tubbs will be here with my husband.”

  “Good, I know how attached you are to the dog. For now you rest, read, and relax. Once you get here, there’s no time for anything but painting. I’ll take very good care of you.”

  “I’m so excited. Thank you for accepting me.”

  “I’ll be calling you soon. Remember Angie, if you work hard and follow everything I say, your painting will improve. Who knows what might happen. I’ll teach you all of T. W. Turner’s techniques.”

  “What an honor that would be. Were you related to him?”

  “No, but he’s always been my inspiration. I hope to be yours. Keep in touch.”

  After Angie hung up, she squealed and pumped her fist into the air. “I can hardly wait.”

  #

  The professor whistled as he rushed into the Artists Paradise. He surveyed the cottage, as if directing the pivotal scene in a Hollywood film—everything was perfect. Positive she’d say “yes.” He’d executed his plan to create the perfect haven for her. She would arrive in less than a month. .

  He’d increased the artistic supplies—paper imported from France, new watercolor shades, and natural bristle brushes of all sizes and shapes.

  Noting that Angie wore fall colors to accent her alabaster skin and auburn hair, he’d redecorated the cottage with shades of greens, reds, and orange. Wandering the cottage interior end to end, he inspected his creation. The focal points in the room were gently staged with deep greens to accent her bright emerald-green eyes.

  He turned his attention to the sofa and armchair facing the fireplace. New decorative pillows on the furniture picked up the fall colors in the room. He sprayed Abercrombie & Finch Fierce, his favorite cologne on the new bedding. Subtle, yet lustful, the cologne attracted women like moths to a nightlight. Everything was ready.

  #

  Jonathan busied himself with office correspondence, reviewing client files, and the general clean up required after the close of a trial. He loved his role in the courtroom. His law firm sought after corporations facing expensive lawsuits. His legal team, more often than most, saved their clients millions. He had risen in the firm as a prize trial attorney. He could read a jury and tell the client’s story. His ability to hammer the opposition into settling a case before the verdict arrived with expensive punitive consequences, paved his path to becoming a partner. He thrived on the big win—bonuses were sweet recognition. But what would all that matter if he lost Angie?

  What had changed her? She wasn’t the person he’d married. Now, she spit out her words like a viper ready to strike. He saw rage in her. But why? She had everything a woman could want.

  Women—who could figure them out?

  A gentle knock on his door drew him from his thoughts.

  “Come in.”

  “Boss, how are you doing? Need anything?”

  Jonathan smiled. “Yes, I need my old wife back. Can you find her?”

  “She’s trying her wings. She’ll leave as a moth and return a beautiful butterfly.”

  Jonathan pushed back from his desk and rocked on the back two legs of his chair, “Now you’re telling me fairytales. You’re unique. I’m glad you’re here, not only as my admin, but as my coach.”

  Gina cleared her throat. “I’m here if you need anything. I’ve located a good marriage counselor. Do you want her number?”

  “Thanks. I’ll talk to Angie and see if she wants to see a counselor before she leaves town.” He swept the hair from his forehead and stood.

  Gina touched his shoulder. “Marriage isn’t for the faint of heart. She loves you, but something’s missing in her life. Let her look for it without feeling guilty. We all have to grow up. It’s her time now. Remember, she’s eight years younger than you.”

  “Will she find another man? Or will she come back to me?”

  “No promises, but if you treat her like you did when you two first fell in love, your odds increase tremendously. Don’t you have a few weeks before she leaves?”

  “I’m not much of a gambler.”

  She leaned forward and placed her hands on his desk as she responded, “Boss, you gamble every day when you step into the courtroom. Use your gifts to win your wife back and save your marriage. This is the most important trial of your career.”

  #

  Angie continued to receive telephone calls daily from the professor. His calls were short, informative, and thoughtful. Fortunately, he never called when Jonathan was home. The professor expressed his concern that Jonathan could misunderstand the importance of the calls. But he had to ensure everything was in place for her arrival. He encouraged her to keep his calls secret. No reason to cause Jonathan unnecessary worry.

  As she relaxed on the sofa in the living room, she felt two small taps. She glanced down. Mister Tubbs stood on his back feet, pressed his chubby tummy against her shin, and tapped her knee with his paws.

  “I’m going to miss you, too. We’ve never been apart.”

  His small black eyes bore into her.

  A tear ran down her cheek.

  “I wouldn’t go if it weren’t really important, promise.”

  #

  The third Monday in May arrived with dark thunderclouds and a chilling rain. Jonathan grabbed a jacket from the hall closet. He frowned—a dark dreary day.

  He called up the stairway. “You’ll miss your plane if you don’t come now. We have to get our cab and leave in the next fifteen minutes.”

  “I’m coming.”

  He swallowed as Angie waltzed into the room. The copper highlights in her hair sparkled. She was a beauty, and he loved her so. How could this be happening? Why did she have to leave?

  “I hope I haven’t forgotten anything important.”

  Jonathan cocked his head. “You’re going to Knoxville, not Siberia. If you’ve forgotten anything, Walmart will have it for you.”

  She laughed. “Of course, what am I thinking?”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Her eyes narrowed, “Let’s not go over that again. I’m sure. It’s the most important thing I’ve done in eight years. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

  Jonathan looked away. “The cab’s waiting. I won’t bring it up again.”

  Angie picked up Mister Tubbs and gave him a tearful goodbye. Then they hurried out the front door. Jonathan hesitated for a moment. Then he walked behind her to the waiting cab. Please, God, bring her back.

  #

  Professor Turner drove to the airport like a NASCAR racer, parked in short-term parking, and bounded to the Delta arrival gate. He’d given himself and extra hour. His father insisted on being early for all events.

  His father, career military, lived by a code of ethics—rules for everything and punishment for rule-breakers.

  James and his mother were moved frequently. One of his father’s rules was never make friends in a new place. He’d explained that with a military brat, another move was just around the corner. Why bother to meet and befriend jerks who would never be seen again? Why waste time with people who would never matter?

  His mother, a gentle soft-spoken woman, doted on James, praised him, and protected him when his father returned from a tour. At night, James frequently heard her cry out. He’d bury his head under the pillows to block out the haunting sounds. She never fought back. His father said she was weak. Perhaps, she was.

 
Chapter 20

  Angie stepped out of the airplane and headed to pick up her luggage. As she drew near the Delta baggage claim, she caught sight of the strikingly- handsome professor, holding a huge bouquet of yellow daisies and pink tulips. His deep-brown eyes, welcoming smile, and wide grin stirred her senses. Wow. Two months of togetherness—how nice.

  “Angie, over here,” Professor Turner called. “Welcome back to Tennessee.”

  She chuckled and gave him a casual peck on the cheek. “What a wonderful surprise. Thank you. The flowers are beautiful.”

  “Nothing’s too good for my budding artist. Here, you carry the flowers and let me grab your bags. Lunch is waiting for you at my place. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, starving. How did you know? I was up at 6, too excited to eat. Now I’m famished.”

  “Follow me.”

  Angie pointed out her luggage, and they headed out to the parking lot. Once nestled in his BMW M6, the professor fired up his convertible and flipped on Pandora. His selection of romance oldies flooded the car. Handsome and romantic, this summer will be interesting.

  They arrived at his home in less than an hour. He escorted her to the cottage and opened the dart-red door. Angie eased through the doorway and into the Artists Paradise. “Oh, it’s more beautiful than I remembered. The colors are so warm and fall-like. Did you change something?”

  “Yes, my dear. It’s critical to your learning your craft. The surroundings must reflect your inner beauty. You are a warm autumn day. Your spirit is bright and cheery. Your atmosphere must be the same.”

  “I hope I won’t disappoint you. What if my talent is average? You’re sacrificing this time for me.”

  “It is I who must meet your needs. If you have the talent, I will bring it out.” Professor Turner carried her luggage into the cottage and set it down. “You get settled. I’ll tend to lunch. Come to the house in about thirty minutes.”

  Angie placed the bouquet of flowers into a waiting vase. “You think of everything.”

  He bent at the waist and bowed. “Your wish is my command, lovely lady.” Then he turned and glided out the front door, softly closing it behind him.