“Fine. Aaron, you don’t mind dropping Charlotte off?”
“Not at all, but who said we are coming home tonight. Charley and I might go to the cliffs and watch the sun come up before having breakfast. Don’t wait up for her.”
Alexis drove back to the cottage and unlocked the front door; grateful she had remembered to leave a light on in the unfamiliar dwelling. Shaking her head as she looked at the chaos in the bedroom, she started organizing her home for the next two-plus weeks. She leaned one of Charlotte’s suitcases on an empty wall and placed the other one on top of the ottoman. She put her suitcase on the bed and unpacked it, hanging clothes in the tiny closet and using two of the drawers in the white bureau, leaving most of the closet and two empty drawers for Charlotte. She took her cosmetic bag and pajamas into the bathroom. After a wonderfully warm shower, she felt revived and went in the kitchen to see what they would need to buy tomorrow at the grocery store. There was a tin of coffee in the refrigerator, half a loaf of bread, half a jar of jam, and a rotten peach left from the last artist that had stayed there. That would be breakfast, as she started a list of items they would need. Suddenly Alexis felt exhausted, and as she locked the front door, she realized that she forgot to give Charlotte the extra key. Well, she would have to knock or ring the doorbell to wake her up. Alexis crawled into bed and was instantly asleep.
Forgetting to close the shutters, the sun woke her up early. She noticed that Charlotte’s side of the bed was unused. She plugged in the coffeemaker and opened the French door to find a strange man sitting on the porch floor in front of one of the Adirondack chairs.
“Hello,” Alexis greeted the man. “Are you lost?”
“Nope,” he replied. “Just using your porch to meditate. My name is Lester, but everyone calls me Pablo.” He rose to shake her hand. “You know like Pablo Picasso?”
Alexis shook his hand as she observed this young, tall, thin, unkempt young man. He was wearing dirty shorts, a paint stained T-shirt, and no shoes. “Are you staying in one of the cottages?”
“Nope, I live over there.” He said pointing to a multicolored beat up van. “I infringe on the kindness and hospitality of the Studio community. Could I have a cup of coffee? Black, please.”
Hesitating, Alexis finally nodded and returned to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee for her unwanted guest. When she returned to the porch, she heard a car approaching and turned to see Aaron and Charlotte pull up in a red, late model BMW.
“Hey, I was just about ready to call the police and report you as missing.” Alexis called out to her sister. “Hello, Aaron, I guess you weren’t kidding about staying out all night.”
Charlotte glanced over at the peculiar man sitting on their front porch, “We had the best time; you should have joined us. I wouldn’t mind living in Key West—its nightlife is unbelievable, beats Phoenix— ”
“Oh, no—don’t move here,” interrupted Pablo. “Florida’s governor won’t allow the words ‘climate change,’ but Key West is going to be underwater within forty years. The highest point on this island is only five meter above sea level.”
Charlotte looked at the young man and then looked at her sister with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh,” Alexis replied, almost laughing at Charlotte’s expression. “Charlotte and Aaron, this is Pablo; he’s an artist, that van over there is his home and studio. Pablo, by the way, my name is Alexis.”
After Pablo finished his coffee, he left his cup on the porch railing and walked over to his van. Charlotte and Aaron sat at the kitchen table and laughed. “Maybe Key West is too Bohemian for me,” laughed Charlotte. “I’m sorry, guys, but it’s all catching up with me, I’m going to bed. Alexis I know you wanted to go sightseeing, but count me out. Incidentally, how did you meet Pablo?”
“He was sitting on my porch when I got up this morning and he told me that he ‘survives on the kindness of strangers,’ and asked me for a cup of coffee.” Alexis put the dishes on the sink, then turned around and asked her sister, “I need to go to the grocery store to pick up some things for the cottage. When I come back, do you think you’ll want to go to the Hemingway house with me?”
“Maybe,” then turning around Charlotte asked, “Hey, Aaron what time are you picking me up tonight?”
“Seven. Alexis, I hope you will join us.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Hemingway House
Alexis stocked up on groceries and necessities and put everything away. She noticed Charlotte was still sleeping and the bedroom door was closed. She decided to ride the bicycle that was sitting in the corner to check out the Hemingway residence. She had learned from Pablo that the house was an easy bike ride—just a few miles from the cottage. It felt good to ride the bike with the slight breeze coming from the ocean before the sweltering heat and humidity would roll in. As she approached the famous house, she saw a long line of people waiting outside to begin the tour. The renowned house was a magnificent white Spanish colonial villa with chartreuse shutters and a wraparound balcony. The gardens contained so many diverse types of trees—banana trees, date palms, elephant ear, brilliant red flame trees, and Bougainvillea flowers filling the yard with greenery and color.
Deciding to come back to take the tour during the week when hopefully the lines would be shorter, Alexis rode the bike around the neighborhood to check out other interesting places she wanted to visit. When she got back to the cottage, it was lunchtime. As she was fixing herself a sandwich, Charlotte emerged from the bedroom.
“I didn’t realize how tired I was,” Charlotte yawned. “Wasn’t it fun to see Aaron again?”
“I had no idea you’ve been in contact with him all these years.”
Charlotte heated up the leftover morning coffee and leaned against the counter. “If I’d known how wealthy he had become, I would have kept even closer contact. Tonight he has some exciting things planned for our tour of Key West nightlife. Do you think you can stay up a little longer than last night?”
Aaron arrived at the cottage at seven on the dot. “I’m sorry, but I forgot my notebook, and I want to document some of the Key West nightlife for a story I’m writing. Would you girls mind making a stop at my hotel before going to dinner?”
“Of course not,” said Charlotte as she kissed him on the cheek. “Alexis promises to stay up for the whole evening tonight.”
“I promised the whole evening, but definitely not all night,” laughed Alexis. “Are you here on a writing assignment?”
“Yes and no. I’m going to take some pictures and do some research while I’m here in Key West as I have an idea for an article. But, Time magazine is sending me on assignment next week for an exciting story. I’ll explain later.”
Aaron expertly drove his rented BMW through the busy traffic, avoiding pedestrians crossing in the middle of the street haphazardly without looking. He drove into the valet parking section of a beautiful hotel called Ocean Key Resort.
“Home, sweet home, at least for the week” he announced. “Do you girls want to come up and see my suite? It’s pretty nice, especially since it’s paid for by Time.”
They walked into the hotel and took the elevator to the tenth floor. When Aaron opened the door, Alexis and Charlotte were speechless. The suite had a comfortable living area, a bar area, and not one but two bedrooms. The balcony had an impressive view of the city and ocean.
“I’m very impressed,” said Charlotte.
“Oh sure,” laughed Aaron. “After staying in a suite at The Plaza Hotel, this must seem like Motel Six.”
Alexis smiled, “Remember that was twenty years ago and our grandparents paid for that suite. Not our typical vacation hotel.”
Charlotte looked around and commented, “Yeah, did you see the tiny cottage we are staying in now? I can’t even unpack my suitcases.”
“There’s two bedrooms here, you girls are welcome to use the extra one,” offered Aaron.
After picking up his notebook, they took off again. Aaron suggested the Roof
top Café for dinner, an elegant, airy restaurant with interesting and different food. After fortified with food, they hit the hot nightspots to drink. First it was The Green Parrot Bar with its live music and exotic drinks, then the Red Garter Saloon—more alcohol. When they stopped at Fat Tuesdays for another nightcap, it was already two in the morning. Alexis noted this bar wasn’t far from their cottage.
“Would you mind dropping me off at the cottage when we leave here? I’m drunk, I’m tired, and I’m done.”
“Seriously, if you want to move into my spare hotel room, you are more than welcome,” Aaron offered again. “I would love the company.”
“Thanks, but I’m committed to staying at the cottage. The Flash Fiction people are going to take publicity pictures of my daily routine in the bungalow, and I’m required to attend some of the Hemingway Days events. It’s more or less an obligation that came with winning the contest. Thanks anyway.”
After dropping Alexis off, Aaron and Charlotte took off waving good-bye. “Don’t wait up for me,” yelled Charlotte out of the open car window. Alexis walked into the cottage and got ready for bed. This time she shut the shutters so the sun wouldn’t wake her up too early.
Once again, when Alexis woke up, she was alone in the double bed. Well, this trip has been a marvelous bonding experience for my sister and me, she thought sarcastically. She started pulling things out of the refrigerator for breakfast and poured herself a cup of coffee and walked out to the porch. Just like the day before, Pablo was sitting on the floor of the patio in a lotus position, deep in mediation, and wearing the same clothes. He looked up when he heard the door open.
“Would you like a cup of coffee? Or better yet, would you like breakfast?” Alexis asked. Pablo wasted no time in accepting her offer. Over scrambled eggs, an English muffin, and a dish of fruit, Alexis learned about her new friend, Lester, or Pablo, as he liked to be called. He had grown up in New York, but his parents had always vacationed in Florida. When he dropped out of college, his parents supported his artistic endeavors for a while, until they demanded he get a job to support himself. He did and saved up enough money to move to Florida where he now lived out of his van, and survived by selling some paintings and worked when he could find a temporary job. Alexis always had a soft spot in her heart for her own students who didn’t fit the pattern of finding success in the academic world. After breakfast, she walked out to Pablo’s van to look at some of his paintings. She was astounded to find they were quite good, and Pablo was actually a very talented artist. On the way back to the cottage, she asked him, “I’m thinking of touring the Hemingway house today, would you like to join me as I don’t think my sister has any interest and I have two tickets?”
“Wow, dude, that would be so cool. Yeah, I’ve always wanted to see that house, but never seem to have any spare greenbacks to buy a ticket. I want to capture the house in a painting as I see it, but they don’t let you on the property if you don’t have a ticket for the tour. Do you mind if I bring my easel, canvas, and paints? And don’t sweat; I have clean clothes in the van. But can I use your shower?”
Oh dear what have I done? My father always warned me about bringing home and feeding stray kittens, thought Alexis as she showed Pablo where the bathroom was and handed him a towel, washrag, and reminding him that there was soap and shampoo in the shower that he was welcome to use. Hoping he would take her suggestion.
While cleaning up the breakfast dishes, Alexis heard a car and turned to see Aaron and Charlotte drive up.
“Hey, Alexis, Charley has decided to stay in my spare bedroom. Are you sure you don’t want to join her?” announced Aaron as he walked into the cottage. Charlotte was already in the bedroom dragging out her suitcases. “Holy cow, Charley, you weren’t kidding when you said you had clothes for every occasion.”
At that moment, Pablo came out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel. “Oh sorry,” he said as he grabbed his clean clothes off the unmade bed, running back and shut the bathroom door behind him. Aaron and Charlotte looked at Alexis with shock.
“You had an overnight guest?” asked Charlotte.
“Charlotte, get your mind out of the gutter, of course not. He was sitting on the porch meditating again this morning and I invited him in for breakfast and asked if he wanted to tour the Hemingway house with me today. I assume you don’t have any interest in the tour? He agreed and asked if he could use our shower.”
“No, Aaron and I have a full day planned. Hey, you’re not mad that I’m not staying here, are you? It’s just too crowded.”
“No, of course not. I’m going to try and get some work done on my book this afternoon. How is Ashley enjoying Disneyland?”
“I don’t know. I’ll text Christopher later today. I forgot.”
“Can we still pick you up for dinner tonight?” Aaron inquired. Alexis nodded. “Good. Pick you up at seven.”
Alexis and Pablo actually had a wonderful time touring the beautiful house. Hemingway lived in the house from 1931 to 1939 with his second wife, Pauline Pfeiffer. Pauline’s Uncle Gus purchased the home for his niece and her husband, Ernest, for $8,000. Actually, Hemingway’s writing studio was located on the second floor of the freestanding carriage house, above the famous swimming pool that Pauline built while Hemingway was away reporting on the Spanish War. He was shocked when he discovered it had cost over $20,000. Pauline also replaced all the fans in the house with chandeliers. The house wasn’t air-conditioned, and the lack of fans intensified the heat and humidity of the Florida summers. And then there were the cats—the tour guide said there were fifty-three in residence at the present time, and all were direct descendants from the original Hemingway’s polydactyl—six-toed cats.
Pablo added details about the house that weren’t mentioned on the tour. He pointed out pieces of rare antique furniture such as the gorgeous Spanish walnut dining room table purchased by Ernest and Pauline while in Europe and the extensive porcelain sculpture collection. He told Alexis stories about some of the artists whose paintings were hanging on the walls. Alexis was very surprised that her new sidekick was so well informed and educated.
Alexis left Pablo on the grounds as he was setting up his easel. She drove back to the cottage where she had a productive afternoon editing and rewriting parts of her novel. Lexie from the Florida Flash Contest called her and set up the time for Alexis to start writing in Hemingway’s studio. They decided on Saturday, July 16, at nine in the morning. Alexis would have to ask Charlotte to take a taxi to the airport that morning; she smiled thinking how inconvenienced and annoyed that would make her. Lexie also scheduled the events that Alexis would be required to attend at the Hemingway Festival set for July 19 through July 24.
The next three days followed the same pattern. After Alexis had plugged in the coffee pot and opened the door, she would find Pablo mediating on the porch, waiting for his coffee and breakfast. Alexis had mapped out interesting tourist locations to visit each morning. One day she checked out the Mel Fisher Maritime Museum to look at its extensive collection of shipwrecks and pirate artifacts. Another morning she toured Harry Truman’s Little White House. Built on one of Key West’s harbors the property was originally used as a naval station, but in 1946 President Truman decided to use the house as a vacation home, hence the name. She also discovered that President Eisenhower used the residence after his heart attack in 1956 and even President Kennedy and British Prime Minister MacMillan met there during the controversial Cuban Bay of Pigs invasion. Alexis would spend the hot and humid afternoons in the air-conditioned cottage, writing and getting her manuscript in order. Aaron and Charlotte would pick Alexis up for dinner each evening at seven. Alexis noticed that Aaron and Charlotte were becoming very close, and she wondered if they were becoming involved. On Thursday evening when Aaron dropped Alexis off at the cottage after dinner, he announced.
“Tomorrow, I’m picking you up at noon, Alexis. Since it’s Charley’s and my last day here, I thought we could all spend the day together. We can go
swimming, do some hiking, some jet skiing, and finish with dinner at the Hot Tin Roof Restaurant at my hotel. It serves seafood mixed with a Caribbean influence. The name salutes Tennessee Williams play-move, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. What do you say?”
“Sounds perfect,” Alexis said as she got out of the car. “See you at noon.”
The next afternoon, Aaron picked up Alexis at the cottage and drove back to his hotel so she could put the clothes she brought to wear for dinner in his room. When he opened the door, he noticed the suite hadn’t been made up yet.
“Oh darn,” he said as he noticed the unmade bed. “Usually the staff is so efficient and the room is made up by the time we get back from breakfast. Alexis you can put your things in Charley’s room.”
When Alexis walked into the second bedroom, she noticed the bed was still made and it looked like no one had used the room. She realized her intuition was correct. Charlotte and Aaron had become involved.
They had a great afternoon, swimming, jet skiing, and talking. The restaurant was beautifully located on the second floor of the Ocean Key Resort overlooking Key West Harbor. The décor was intimate and reflected the flair of Key West. They were shown to a small circular teak wood table on the patio with a picturesque view of the harbor. After toasting each other with exotic island drinks, Alexis ordered Yellowtail Snapper, Charlotte chose the Poached Florida Lobster, and Aaron settled on the Scallop Risotto. While they were waiting for the check, Scott Maurer, the restaurant’s head chef, came over to their table to introduce himself and talk to Aaron. After a few pleasantries, he left and Aaron smiled and leaned over to whisper, “Somehow he heard I was working on a story about Key West and I think he wanted me to mention his name and the restaurant’s.” When Aaron picked up the check and saw “complementary” written across the top he smiled and showed the bill to Charlotte and Alexis, “Guess what? He’s going to get his wish.”
The Girl in Hemingway's Studio Page 12
