Kieran York - Appointment with a Smile

by Kieran York

  Esther raised her hands in supplication. “Okay, don’t get upset about it.”

  “The time I’m spending with Bethany is wonderful. Molly is still in my heart. Even if she wasn’t, Bethany loves London and loves her profession. She’s been with the airline forever, and at only mid-fifty, she’s hardly likely to leave it.”

  “With thirty years’ service, she’s eligible to retire. I remember her mentioning it at dinner.”

  “Were you listening to our conversation?” I asked, my anger now gone. “Goodness, but you are a little busybody. So what’s going on with Mercury right now?”

  “Mercury is somewhere over Denver. There’s probably a meteor shower pounding down trying to locate you. The goddesses wish to tell you how stubborn you are.”

  “Or maybe they’re searching for you to tell you how daft you are.”

  “You’re still holding out hope for a reunion with Molly.” She wasn’t asking a question.

  “Esther, I’m not certain what I’m doing right now. Other than painting a portrait.”

  She stood up and examined it closely. “It looks exactly like Bethany. Are you planning to convert it into another Molly masterpiece?”

  I glared at her. “You’ll stay the extra week?”

  “Sure, but after that, I should return. Poor Sadie and Aggie.”

  “Aggie is having the time of her alpha life. Sadie will be fine. They’re very well-adjusted dogs. Like I say, the offer remains if you want to bunk with me.”

  Esther wrinkled her nose as she sat down again. “I do love you, my friend. But I can only take you in small doses.” She smirked as I gave her a harshly reproving look. “Come on, O’Hara, lighten up. A little joke is not the end of the universe as we know it.”

  “You can be very snitty. I certainly have no idea about the end of the universe. I just know life seems a little out of control right now.”

  “This has been a lot to process in a short time,” she said. “Just seeing Molly would have been emotional. Or just meeting Bethany. The fates are ganging up on you.”

  “Fates,” I repeated. “Esther, it’s surreal. My sudden success, meeting a woman I could fall in love with. Seeing the woman I’m still in love with. In some ways I wish I’d never set foot in England. Never left Colorado.”

  “The way you’re acting, I’ll bet London women also wish you’d never set foot off of Colorado soil.”

  “You know, Ms. Lilly, if I drop-kicked you from here, you probably could set foot on some nearby galaxy’s major supernova’s soil.”

  Our laughter came in gales for several moments.

  “Think of me up there with all that gas and dust. All those ultraviolet and X-rays. Out there searching for the light of life. In my element.”

  “What?”

  “Ah, yes. Homochirality!”

  Frowning, I said, “And it gets worse.”

  “It’s a good thing as an artist you don’t need to do research. Try doing a little scrutiny of past visuals.”

  I glanced at my wristwatch. “I’ve got to get ready. And I’d like to do it without any banter.”

  Esther finished her coffee and stood. “What do you think you’ll be discussing when you meet with Samantha?”

  “She simply wants to talk with me. I agreed. I like her very much. I won’t even ask about Molly. Will that make you happy?” My anger returned, burning my face. “I’m completely without the ability to do anything concerning Molly. That inability has been with me every day for the past thirty years. For God sakes, I’m trying to hold myself together. Molly is here in this city, and I can’t do one damned thing for her love.”

  “Danielle, don’t get your hopes up. This isn’t necessarily a signal you’re getting back together with Molly.”

  “It doesn’t mean we couldn’t.”

  She took my hand in hers. “Don’t set yourself up.”

  “No. At least I’ll try not to hope.”

  I was glad when Esther said goodbye and left me alone with my thoughts.

  Chapter 19

  The Razzmatazz sat on the corner of the block in an elite area. As I entered, I made note of the luxurious recreation of a Jazz Age bistro. Walls were ruby with gold sconces and décor. Brightly styled furniture displayed aqua, roan, and ivory colors. Poster-sized, black-and-white photographs of Jazz Age celebrities lined the walls, with at least one above every table.

  The restaurant was filling up rapidly. Samantha sat near an F. Scott fitzgerald photo. I spotted her as she waved in my direction.

  As I joined her, I noticed she’d already ordered a bottle of wine and filled two glasses. I smiled. “How have you been?”

  “Life seems to speed by so rapidly, and I never get anything done,” she complained with good humor. “But I’m taking priorities first. It’s important that I speak with you about Mother.”

  “Maybe she’d rather you not.” I was curious, and when interrupted by the server, I was slightly impatient. We ordered quickly. Thankfully, Samantha continued where she’d left off.

  “Danielle, there are things you might not understand.”

  “The facts I see indicate Molly doesn’t want any part of me. If she wanted me in her life, she would’ve contacted me ten years ago. And certainly after we met at the market. I told her where I’m staying. She also could have easily looked me up at the gallery, just as you did.”

  “She’s still in love with you.”

  I sat back and allowed Samantha’s words to resonate with me. “She’s ignored me for all these years because she’s still in love with me?” I laughed harshly. “I think not.”

  “I realize it’s difficult to believe. But I’ve always known she loves you.”

  “Then why didn’t she contact me? She knew I would have taken her back without questions.”

  “Her life with Pamela was complicated. My biological mother was brilliant, beautiful, and certainly manipulative. Pamela wrote books about philosophy. She lectured in the most prestigious universities. Molly was her acolyte when they first met. The older, famous, author-slash-professor swept her student, Molly, away. Molly was seduced. Then after they were together, it was too late to leave Pamela.”

  Frowning, I took a sip of my wine. “She falls for her gorgeous, celebrated, rich professor, and I’m not a raging beauty. Leaves me after an eight-year relationship. I’ve been scraping by for years. Until the last few years, no one has even known my name. She picked the woman she wanted and stayed with her for twenty years. End of story.”

  “She didn’t stay because of Pamela. I’m the reason she stayed.” Samantha stared down at the table.

  “I don’t understand.” Our lunches were placed before us. Although they looked and smelled delicious, I had lost my appetite. So many questions beleaguered me.

  “Danielle, the reason I’m trying to make things right now is because if it hadn’t been for me, she would’ve gone back to you. I know she’s in love with you, and I know from your painting you’re in love with her. But it’s complicated.”

  Now I was intrigued, and I allowed some of my bitterness to slip away. “I’m listening.”

  “After a year or so, Pamela’s drinking problem began to increase. My biological mother was an alcoholic. She was careful not to show her drinking to Molly at first. I strongly suspect when the affair began, Molly had let her guard down because she had been, as they say, plied with alcohol.”

  “Did Molly say that was the reason?”

  “She implied it once when they were fighting. Yes.”

  “Molly wasn’t even a drinker.”

  “I know. I’m sure after Pamela seduced her, Molly felt guilty she’d succumbed. Then, after terminating your relationship and relocating, she understood her mistake when confronted with Pamela’s rages and tantrums. Molly realized she’d be leaving me behind to take the brunt of Pamela’s cruelty. She wouldn’t leave a child behind to be mistreated. I was only a few years old, but I knew what was happening. The only happiness in my life was Molly. She knew
I relied on her.”

  It was starting to make sense. “She couldn’t ask the courts to make her the custodial parent. Biological mother would win that one. Especially thirty years ago.”

  “Exactly. Pamela saw what an immediate and strong bond I had with Molly. She was aware Molly would never leave her because it meant leaving me with a cruel alcoholic. I feel responsible for Molly staying. Pamela would often scream that Molly would never see me again if she left. So now I would like to see the woman I consider my true mother happy.”

  “Molly was your link to safety, wasn’t she?”

  “She protected me from Pamela’s vicious temper.” Samantha held my gaze. “You’re right, she was my only lifeline. I adored Molly’s kindness. I was a child, but I knew I was in jeopardy.”

  “Staying was Molly’s decision. You can’t take responsibility for her staying with Pamela.” I paused and regrouped my thoughts. “That explains away twenty years. But after Pamela died, why didn’t Molly contact me? When you became of age, why didn’t she contact me then?”

  “I asked her that not too long after Pamela died. She said she would have been embarrassed after the way she treated you. She didn’t want to mess your life up again by allowing you to care for her. She also believed you had probably found happiness with someone else.”

  “I’m so sorry you had such a troubled childhood. An alcoholic or a parent with a drug addiction is a treacherous minefield to get through.” I had my grandparents. Samantha had Molly.

  “Molly sacrificed so much in making my childhood good, as well as safe. And now I’d like to do what I can to reunite the two of you.”

  “What did she say when you gave her the painting?”

  “Myths and Memories. She loved it. She wept. That’s when I knew she’s still in love with you. She went online to look for your other paintings at the exhibit. She saw Farewell to Molly. She was inconsolable.”

  “I’m sorry if I brought her pain. I must confess that I’ve painted two more paintings of her since then. One is titled Reunion’s first Glimpse, and the other, A Scene from Our Story.”

  “I’m aware of them. They’ve both been purchased.”

  I watched her face carefully. “As of an hour ago, they hadn’t been sold. How could you know this? I didn’t even know.” I quickly retrieved my cell phone and saw there was an incoming message from Fiona. “My agent has called since I arrived here. Undoubtedly to tell me about the sale. How did you know they were sold?”

  “An offshoot of our family foundation purchased them. We keep the foundation’s multiple offshoots relatively silent for tax and profitability purposes.”

  “Your hidden philanthropic foundation purchased the paintings?”

  “A family-funded entity.”

  I bristled. “What’s your reason for purchasing them?”

  “We treasure them because they are Molly. The soul of Molly. We’re proud future generations will see her likeness. Jeff and I will ensure that they’re placed only in leading museums. The foundation loans exhibits. My husband is a very gifted businessman. His appreciation of great art makes him a perfect benefactor. He believes your art is going to rapidly appreciate.”

  “Thank you for your patronage. But I don’t consider myself a premier artist.”

  “You should. I talked with your agent when I called and left the message for you to call me. She told me she’s been after you for years to move to New York so you might have more recognition, but you’ve refused. You were a relatively undiscovered artist. Until now.”

  “I wanted my work to speak for itself.”

  “Now it has and will, I promise. Jeff likes being in the forefront. He’s selected a brilliant artist’s work that also spotlights his beloved mother-in-law. It’s a win-win situation.”

  I smiled. “You both seem to idolize Molly.”

  “Absolutely. Pamela died before I married Jeff. She had forbidden me to marry him. At that time, his family owned a nearly bankrupt aeronautic company. Her mantra was that one might select a rich man and be as happy as selecting a poor one. She didn’t want me corrupted by poverty. I’m sure she was afraid her own wealth might be squandered on a needy husband. In her will, she instituted a clause that half her money was to go to Molly and the other to me, but not until I reached the age of thirty-five. By then, last year, I didn’t need her money. The man I married has made me happy.”

  “What did Molly say about who you should marry?”

  Samantha’s expression brightened. “She stood by me. She warned me that I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t marry the man I love. Just as she had regretted her choice.”

  “I can imagine that would anger Pamela.”

  “It did. We’d made engagement plans before she died. Although she passed away before the wedding, she knew I would marry Jeff. When his father died, the company was millions of dollars in debt. Unencumbered assets were nonexistent. Jeff was saddled with an out-of-control, spendthrift mother, a playboy brother who couldn’t care less about the business, and an older sister who helped run the company into the ground.”

  “The company turned around?”

  “Jeff was the youngest. Pamela thought he had no chance of keeping the business afloat. Together, Jeff and I decided to try to make it work. We restructured the company. Put my mother-in-law on a restrictive, yet certainly adequate allowance. Jeff’s sister became vice-president of public relations. Amazingly enough, she was not only happier, she was extremely good at her new job. At any rate, we all worked together to rebuild the company and made it stronger than ever.”

  “It’s a shame Pamela didn’t see your victory.”

  Samantha shook her head before taking a sip of wine. “Pamela would never have credited us with anything. She could never be wrong, but she was absolutely right about one thing. Molly never did love her as much as she has loved you all these years.”

  “I never wanted Molly to be unhappy. Even after she left, it was important to me to believe she would be happier than I could have made her. Maybe that’s the reason I finally accepted her leaving. Her happiness.”

  “Pamela made her unhappy. She put us both through hell.”

  “Blaming parents only creates negativity in one’s own life. I know from experience. If Pamela knew Molly was still in love with someone else, perhaps that exacerbated her drinking.”

  “Your parents. Molly told me they separated when you were a child and are now dead.”

  “I once resented them terribly. My mother had an alcohol and drug problem. My father was too young for the responsibility of being a parent. I went through years of blaming them for what they might not have been able to control. When I finally realized that, I felt better about it.”

  Samantha seemed to let my words sink in. “Thank you, Danielle, I appreciate your insight. That wasn’t something I had considered.”

  “You’re too nice a person to live with pain. Whatever made you the person you are today was good. You’re a lovely, decent woman, Samantha. You’ve created a terrific family, and you have love in your heart. That can’t be anything but good.”

  “I only wish you and Molly had raised me.”

  I gripped her hand and said, “I think we all would have loved that. I know Molly must be so proud of you. I would have been.”

  Samantha placed her other hand on top of mine. “Will you call my mom?”

  I tried to pull out of her grasp, but she held my hand tightly. “I’m not as sure as you that she wants to hear from me.”

  “And I’m sure that she does. Please, Danielle?” She squeezed my hand.

  “All right. I’ll call her.”

  “Do you still have her phone number?”

  Sheepishly, I confessed, “Yes, I do, and you have my word, I’ll call her.” Of course, I had entered the number into my cell phone… as well as engraved it in my heart and mind.

  Chapter 20

  After leaving the restaurant, I strolled the sidewalks and mulled over the simple facts. Mol
ly hadn’t returned to me because of her worry for Samantha’s well-being. And Samantha, the most innocent of all, now wrestled with her past. A child shouldn’t have worn some faux anvil of culpability around her neck for all these years. My heart broke for Samantha’s youth.

  Childhood memories of haphazard hugs from drunken parents bombarded me, and a sadness about my own lost youth settled on my shoulders. I blinked the tears away when I reached the gallery, not even aware of how long I had walked.

  Fiona pounced on me when I entered. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re working on another painting?” she asked, slightly hostile.

  “What?”

  “Esther dropped by early this morning. I mentioned that since you have a romantic interest, you’ve lost your craving to paint. The urge and surge that produced such great recent work has vanished. Anyway, she jumped to your defense by telling me you’re working on a painting of Bethany. I’m in the dark. I know nothing about the new painting.”

  “I didn’t mention it because I don’t know if it will be very good.”

  “Let me be the judge of that. What pisses me off is that you let me think you had shut down your blizzard of work.” She paused before gathering more steam. “Esther probably thinks I’m a fucking nincompoop because I don’t even bother to keep up with you.”

  Her anger got under my skin. I had a question of my own. “Why didn’t you mention that Franklin-Lewis is a branch of the Wesley Foundation? The Wesley family has purchased the lion’s share of my paintings over the week.”

  “Jeffery and Samantha bought them?”

  “You didn’t know?” I scrutinized her face for any sign of deception.

  “Hell no, I didn’t know. Don’t be a fool. You know everything I know. The minute I know it. Hidden foundations are just that—hidden. At least the paintings are in great hands. Their foundations exhibit in the finest museums. You should be pleased.”

  “I don’t understand why they’re being purchased by separate branches of their foundation, or however they’re doing it.”

  Fiona shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not certain. I think maybe between the two of them, they’re brilliant enough to realize that a diversity of many buyers brings competition. A marketing strategy.”