On Sunday, Alexis told Beth Hogan, the curator of the museum, that it would be her last day using the studio. She was going to spend the following day, packing and cleaning the cottage before leaving for home on Tuesday. She thanked Beth for taking such good care of her and felt the Hemingway spirit in the studio inspired her.
“Did you finish your book?” asked Beth.
“Pretty much,” answered Alexis. “I need to reread it for the hundredth time and make sure all my details are in chronological order. But I’m happy with it, and I’m ready to start submitting my manuscript to publishing agents.”
“You don’t have an agent?”
“No, the books I’ve written before were work-related and published by the University of Arizona which only publishes academic, regional, and literary works. This will be my first experience in the real world of publishing.”
“Alexis, I read your winning essay that won the contest and was very impressed. Would you mind if I read some of your manuscript?”
Alexis reached into her briefcase and pulled out the beginning chapters that were filled with red markings. “I only have part of my book printed, but here are several chapters, if you really are interested.”
Beth smiled as she took the papers. “I’ll get them back to you before you leave. It’s been wonderful meeting and getting to know you. Poor Francis is really going to miss you and your special kitty treats.”
Alexis worked until about three in the afternoon. Just as she was packing up and looking around the studio one more time, she sat down and reached over to scratched Francis’s ears and under his chin and whispered good-bye. Suddenly, Beth was unlocking the gate holding her manuscript and a small card.
“Alexis, your novel is wonderful. I hope you don’t think of me interfering in your business, but my Uncle Michael is a literary agent in New York City. I had told him about you and sent him a copy of your winning essay. He seemed very interested. He asked if you would consider faxing him the first five chapters of your manuscript?” Beth asked as she handed Alexis his card.
Alexis looked at the card and looked back at Beth. “This Michael is your uncle? Do you realize he is just about the most famous agent in the publishing world?”
Beth smiled. “He’s waiting for your call. I told him you wouldn’t be home until Tuesday.”
Alexis jumped up from her chair and hugged the curator, “How in the world do I ever thank you?”
“Send me an autographed copy of your book when it’s published; I want to find out how your book ends.”
Alexis was overjoyed at the prospect of possibly having an agent who had already expressed an interest in her manuscript. The next morning she was humming as she prepared her and Pablo’s last breakfast together. She glanced at the clock and rechecked the front porch. It was so unlike him to be late. A half hour later, there was a knock at the door. It was Pablo holding a breathtaking painting of the Hemingway residence; it included a picture of a girl walking across the lawn carrying a laptop followed by a dark-gray-and white-striped cat.
“I wanted to give you something to thank you for your special friendship and nurturing. My mother is thrilled that you took such good care of her son and wanted me to marry you,” Pablo half laughed. “Actually if you weren’t already married, I would seriously consider proposing.”
“This is for me?” Alexis said as she ignored his half-serious proposal. “Pablo this is gorgeous, but don’t you want to sell it and earn some money? Starting tomorrow, you are going to have to buy your own breakfasts. This girl and the cat, is that me and Francis?”
Pablo smiled and nodded yes, “Actually, I have an interview this afternoon. Neil, your photographer stopped by my van the other day to look at my paintings. He set up an interview for a job with a local art museum where I can work on my art during the day. The position would provide a meager paycheck, but would include free rent on an on-site small apartment with a kitchenette, covered parking for my van, and an art studio downstairs in the museum where I can paint. I would have an air-conditioned place to live and work. During the day, I would be on display, working in the art studio and answering questions for the patrons touring the museum. In the evening, I would be extra security—making sure the alarms are on and the doors are locked.”
“Pablo, that sounds perfect. Good luck with your interview. How about joining me for dinner tonight? I have enough in the refrigerator to throw together a farewell dinner.”
Pablo nodded and gave Alexis a hug as he walked out of the door. Alexis spent the day cleaning the tiny cottage, packing, and taking a quick trip to the UPS Store. She wanted Pablo’s precious painting professionally wrapped, boxed, and shipped to Tempe. Pablo joined her for dinner with stories of his interview and a newfound confidence and excitement that he thought the job was his. After dinner, they said good-bye and promised to write each other. Alexis wished him the best.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Divergence
Alexis boarded her flight early the next morning. She expected to land at Sky Harbor shortly before noon. She felt pleased with herself that she had accomplished more than she expected. She had called Beth’s uncle, the publishing agent, while she was cleaning the cottage on Monday. He immediately took the call and seemed excited that Alexis was considering him. Laughingly she thought, Heck if he only knew how thrilled I am that he is considering taking me on as a client! In the middle of cleaning, she ran down to the local UPS Store to print out and fax the first five chapters to her possible agent.
The plane arrived on time, as Alexis sent a text to her husband before deplaning. She collected her luggage and Marcus drove up as she walked out of the automatic glass doors. Marcus hopped out of the car, put her luggage in the trunk, and gave her a big hug and kiss.
“I’ve really missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Alexis said as she enjoyed his loving embrace. “Have you seen Charlotte? My poor father must have been beside himself with worry.”
“You really missed the fireworks here. You are right, your father was upset, but Judith was infuriated with Charlotte,” Marcus said with a wry laugh. “I’m sorry to say this, but I think Judith kind of liked Charlotte better than she liked you. They both possess the same superficial, trivial souls. But, I think Judith was afraid that if Charlotte didn’t come back, she would end up having to care for Ashley.”
“Dad said that Charlotte was going to move to New York and live with Aaron. Is that true?”
“Yes, and if you think Arthur and Judith are mad at her, you should hear Christopher trash-talk about her. He’s called her everything from a selfish brat to a horrible mother to a slut who is going to abandon her child for a fling. The only person who still likes Charlotte is Ashley, and she has no clue that her mother is going to abandon her. I’m so glad we decided not to have children; I’m not sure I could handle all that responsibility.”
“What do you mean we decided not to have children? We haven’t discussed that yet. I’m not sure I want to close the door on not becoming a mother.”
“Sorry, I thought we were on the same page. Okay, we’ll discuss it later.”
Marcus took Alexis home, and they spent a quiet evening together making up for the last couple of weeks.
The next morning, Alexis called Charlotte and got her voice mail. She left a message for her to call her. She had received a call from “Uncle Michael” her possible literary agent. He was excited about the pages she had sent from her novel. Alexis was ready to electronically transmit her entire manuscript, but Michael was rather “old-fashioned” and wanted her to make a copy of the completed book and UPS it to him. He still liked to read novels with a red pen in hand for corrections. Alexis stopped at Office Max and had two copies made and three-hole punched. She also purchased two three-hole binders; she smiled at the thought of at least having her book printed.
Charlotte didn’t return the call for two more days and finally invited Alexis to stop by her townhouse.
Charlotte
answered the door with a hug and a question, “Do you hate me too?” Alexis hugged Charlotte, “If what I’m hearing is true, I think you are acting irresponsible. How can you even think about moving across the country and leaving your daughter behind?”
“Oh, Alexis, I think I’ve found the love-of-my-life, my soul mate. Aaron is so wonderful, I can’t imagine living without him. But we really don’t know each other that well, and I want to see if things continue to be so perfect when we are living together. I would hate to take Ashley out of her loving environment and have things not work out. Plus it would be hard for Aaron and me to connect with a young child living with us.”
“Charlotte, why didn’t you call Dad and let him know you weren’t flying back to Phoenix? Do you have any idea how frightened we all were? We didn’t know if you went with Aaron or had been kidnapped!”
Charlotte sighed, “Oh God, I’ve told everyone how sorry I am to have cause such distress, but Aaron wasn’t sure it was possible I could go with him until we boarded the plane for Cuba after getting final permission from Time Magazine. Everything happened so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to contact anyone and going to Cuba was a once in a lifetime event.”
Looking around the house, Alexis could see that Charlotte had been busy packing, “Why don’t you wait for a couple of months before you actually move to New York?”
“Too late. I quit my job yesterday,” Charlotte said as she added more clothes to her suitcase. “My last day at work is August 12; Aaron is arranging to have all my things shipped to his apartment, and he bought my airline ticket, first-class. Aaron has also arranged for an interview at Time magazine on the seventeenth. They have an opening in their Research Department. Aaron said that Time was thrilled with the work I did for his article and when the opening came up, they called Aaron to see if I might be interested. Isn’t this all just so exciting? Things are falling into place so quickly.”
“What about your house?” Alexis asked as she looked around.
“I told Christopher he could live here, that would make it easier for Ashley, but he said he had just signed a one-year lease on a condo in Chandler, so I guess I will call a relator about renting it. It is so hard to discuss anything with that man,” Charlotte added as she looked at her sister. “He’s just so angry about everything.”
“Charlotte, do you really blame him?”
“Let’s go out to lunch and talk,” Charlotte smiled and grabbed her purse. “I want to tell you about Cuba and the marvelous experiences Aaron and I had there.”
Charlotte and Alexis stopped at The Olive Garden. Alexis had a big pit in her stomach and found it difficult to eat her soup and salad lunch. Charlotte talked continuously about Cuba. She explained the process of getting into the country, how the Cuban officials didn’t stamp their passports, but instead used a Cuban tourist visa that she and Aaron had each purchased at the airport for $20.She described the visa as a separate card that was placed in the passport, but not attached.
“At first, Aaron was frustrated that he was unable to rent a car,” explained Charlotte. “He was upset that he had to hire a vintage American car with a driver, but it actually worked out to our advantage. The driver, who loved Americans, had grown up in Havana. He took us to locations that provided unusual and compelling material for Aaron’s article.”
Charlotte explained how she kept track of the notes, took pictures, and posed for some pictures that actually would be included in the magazine article. She never mentioned worrying about Ashley or what she would say to her child when she left.
Charlotte went on and on about not being able to use cell phones or credit cards and that Aaron had to carry wads of Cuban cash. Hotels were scarce and far between. It was suggested they rent a room in someone’s home. They were called “casa particular,” and the rooms were found by word of mouth or notes posted in restaurants. Fortunately, Aaron discovered AIRBnB had recently been established in Cuba, and he found a cute house in a nice neighborhood before leaving Key West. Charlotte talked about the locals, how friendly and courteous they were to tourists and so happy to explain and share their colorful customs. She was surprised at the lack of crime and absence of drugs in the cities. People drink rum and Coke when they want to party.
“You know, Alexis, I was never afraid in Cuba,” Charlotte declared as she took another breadstick. “Even late at night after doing some photo shoots at parties and colorful night scenes, we were alone as we walked the streets back to our residence without fear. Everyone, no doubt, figured out we were Americans and were probably carrying a wad of cash on our person, but no one even approached us or threatened us. It was a wonderful trip except….”
Charlotte hesitated. How she would have loved to discuss something important with her sister. Alexis was such a smart, intuitive, caring woman and she wished they had maintained a closer sister relationship. But whose fault was that? It would have been so helpful to have Alexis’s take on this one confusing issue, but she was afraid her sister would freak out and tell their dad and prevent Charlotte from moving to New York.
Charlotte nibbled on a roll and rationalized, We were in a foreign land, a communist country. We were up all hours of the night and day, stressed by everything. Aaron was on a deadline and concerned about his story. We were drinking rum and Coke, and I’m sure that was the reason for the incident. Suddenly that frightening look of anger across Aaron’s face flashed in Charlotte’s mind. But she shook it off. It never happened again, and she was sure it never would. Aaron was a delightful, charming man and filthy rich. She was sure it was just a mistake, because he was so ashamed and so very sorry.
Alexis stopped eating and looked at her sister, “Except what?”
Charlotte put her fingers through her hair nonchalantly and lied, “Except it was tiring and stressful and we were both happy to get home to the good ole United States. By the way, I brought you a present.”
Charlotte rummaged through her purse and pulled out an envelope with pictures. “Look, it’s Hemingway’s house in Cuba—Finca Vigia which means ‘lookout house.’ It is now owned by the Cuban Government and wasn’t open for tours, but Aaron and I took some exterior pictures for you. Hemingway wrote For Whom the Bell Tolls and The Old Man and the Sea in this house.”
“Thank you, Charlotte,” Alexis said as she looked through the prints. “These are really quite good. You do have a knack for photography.”
Picking up the bill and searching for her wallet, Alexis turned to her sister and put her hand on her arm, “Seriously, I understand that you think you are in love with Aaron, you want to believe he is the love of your life and are ready to start on this exciting adventure with him. But, Charlotte, think back to that horrible time when our mother died. Don’t you remember the terrifying loss we both felt? How frightened we were about our future without our mother? At the time, I was eleven years older than Ashley. I can’t imagine the loss and fear that child will feel when you leave.”
“Silly girl,” Charlotte said as she gathered up her purse and things, letting Alexis pay the bill. “I’m not dying, I’ll be back to see my daughter. It’s not the same.”
After lunch, Charlotte wanted to stop at Judith’s house to see Ashley. Charlotte didn’t want to bring her daughter back to the home they once shared and have to explain why she was packing. Alexis’s heart broke as she thought of her trusting, adorable niece and how shattered her life would be when she learned about her mother’s plans.
Judith answered the door and smiled coldly, “Hello, girls. Come in.”
“Mommy, Mommy, Are you taking me home?” shouted Ashley as she came running into the living room tripping over a throw rug.
“Ashley,” shouted Judith. “How many times do I have to tell you not to run in the house? There are too many valuable items that you could break, not to mention getting hurt yourself.”
“Sorry, Grandma, I promise I will try to remember.”
“Ashley, did you also forget that we discussed that I’m not your gr
andmother? Remember you were going to call me ‘J.J.’ instead of ‘Grandma’?”
Ashley stopped and with her head bent low, she apologized. “Do you mean Grandma J.J.?”
Judith shook her head, “No dear, my name is Judith Jensen Edman, and when I was a little girl, my father used to call me ‘Princess J.J.’ so you can call me just plain J.J. Okay?”
Ashley nodded and ran over to her mother and aunt.
Arthur walked into the room to greet his daughters as his granddaughter ran up to him. “Grandpa, do I need to call you a name besides Grandpa?”
Arthur looked at Judith and swooped up Ashley in his arms. “Most certainly not. I’m happy to be called ‘Grandpa,’” then looking at his two daughters added. “And I would like to have a few more grandchildren calling me ‘Grandpa.’”
Judith groaned.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Investors
The next few days flew by before Charlotte was off to New York to begin her new life. Her daughter was heartbroken when she discovered her mother had moved without her. Alexis reworked her schedule to work in her office at the university early mornings and at home late into the evening to get ready for her fall classes. Each afternoon, she would stop by Ashley’s daycare to pick her up. Together, they would visit local parks, the Museum of Natural History in Mesa to view the Dinosaur Hall, the Children’s Museum of Phoenix, and the Wells Fargo History Museum. On the day before Alexis’s classes began, they toured the Scottsdale Butterfly Wonderland, an atrium that replicates an ideal tropical rainforest where thousands of butterflies fly freely. Ashley’s favorite exhibit was the emergence gallery where she could watch each stage of development as caterpillars emerge into butterflies.
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