by Karen Pokras
Curling her body into the crook of Ben’s outstretched arm, Holly nodded. It wouldn’t solve their problems, of course, but a change of scenery would be good for them. They needed to re-charge and focus on something non-baby related. Was that possible? It had to be for her own sanity.
“Okay,” she smiled, “let’s do it. Let’s go away. Soon. But you have to promise me there will be no baby talk up until or during our vacation. Please?”
“Are you sure that’s what you want?” he asked. “You don’t even want to talk about …” He glanced down at her hand, once again resting on her abdomen.
“We can talk about our child whenever you want,” Holly said, managing a smile. “I meant I didn’t want to talk about getting pregnant … or possibly adopting. Not yet. Once we get back, and we’re relaxed maybe we can look at our options again. Okay?”
“Okay,” Ben said, pulling her in tight.
Chapter 11 – Ava
“I see the laundry elves didn’t come while I was out,” Ava mumbled as she and Ryan entered the house.
“What, Mama?” he asked with a confused expression on his face.
“Nothing, sweetie. Why don’t you go play for a little bit while I put all this away and figure out what we’re going to do today?” How she wished she could drop her son off at Mrs. Connelly’s for a few hours again. Between the impromptu late night with her sisters, an old dog who decided at four in the morning he suddenly had to get let out, having extra mouths to feed at breakfast, and having to drive Logan and Jenna to school, Ava felt like she’d already put in a full day. At least Holly helped get Tessa home. Now she had stuff to do around the house while entertaining her youngest child who unfortunately gave up napping long ago. Naps. What a concept. Ava would gladly take one. Who was the genius that decided naps shouldn’t be a forever thing? Unfortunately, her sitter wasn’t available today, not that Ava would take him to her anyway. She was still feeling a little guilty over the fact that Ryan had put in extra time there yesterday.
“This laundry is not going to fold itself,” she reminded herself out loud, staring at the pile of clothing in hopes that some sort of telekinesis might kick in. Was she imagining things, or had the number of items in the basket increased since last night? She grabbed a sweatshirt off the top and began the arduous task, stacking each piece according to its owner.
Thirty minutes later, she found last weekend’s Forest Hills Times underneath it all. Collapsing on the couch, she skimmed through the first section, making her way to the only news that really mattered to her: Arts and Entertainment.
“No way,” she whispered to herself. “I didn’t know that was coming to town.” She checked her watch and stretched her neck to take a peek into the playroom. Ryan was sitting on the floor quietly coloring. Of her three children, he was the most like his mama, choosing to draw or color over any other activity. He was still a bit young for the Museum of Fine Arts, but on the other hand, he might get a kick out of seeing some of the paintings and sculptures. Besides, it wasn’t like she was planning on spending hours there walking through the massive building. She was interested only in this particular show. It wasn’t everyday a Julien Henri exhibit came to town. She glanced back down at the article. This week only and the closest stop on his tour.
Ava looked at the piles of folded laundry to be put away and thought about everything on her to-do list for the day. It was the same as always, really: errands, cooking, cleaning, and kids.
“Oh screw it,” she said to herself, getting up. “When do I ever do anything for myself?” She tore out the info for the exhibit and walked into the playroom. “Ryan, honey, come on. We’re going back out.”
~~~
Ryan seemed just as enthralled with the paintings at the exhibit as Ava. Well, perhaps enthralled was a bit of a stretch for a three year old. He seemed to have moderate interest. Okay—he wasn’t complaining about being dragged around an art museum. Not yet at least. And there was certainly plenty to look at in the exhibit. Julien Henri was a master of his craft. After studying his work while Ava was a student at Wolfenson College, he’d become one of her favorite artists, second only to her true favorite, Claude Monet. Henri’s love of impressionism and use of Monet’s techniques were more than evident in his work. In fact, were it not for Henri’s distinguishing signature, experts might argue that Monet himself painted some of the pieces now hanging on display. However, Henri was not simply a Monet copycat artist like so many others were. On the contrary, Henri was a talented painter who saw a modern world through impressionist eyes. He deserved every bit of the critical acclaim he’d received during his career.
Back in the day, Ava had tried desperately to get a Julien Henri piece in her gallery, but they were way beyond her reach. Most were just simply not for sale, and if they were, they sold through big auction houses, not small town galleries. She hadn’t seen an original Henri painting in years and was completely mesmerized by this incredible collection.
Grabbing Ryan’s hand, she walked over to the bench in the center of the room to sit. There was only one way to truly view an exhibit such as this one, and they were lucky it was a quiet Wednesday morning in the museum. Had it been a weekend, they would never have been able to just sit and soak up the view. After pointing out some of the nuances of each of the paintings—clearly all lost on her young son—Ava was content to relax in silence while looking around the room. She found herself getting lost in each piece, imagining Henri in his studio, brush in hand, as he created each work. What were his inspirations? How long did each painting take? Did he struggle with light and shadows as she often did when painting? Most importantly, why didn’t she come here to the museum on a regular basis? Every second that passed left her feeling more and more relaxed.
A group of chatty teenagers, students on a school trip presumably, interrupted her thoughts as they filled the room, blocking her view.
She sighed loudly. So much for her stress-free morning.
“I guess that’s our cue, buddy.” When she looked over to where Ryan had been sitting, she discovered he was no longer there. “Ryan?” she called out, searching the room, trying to see through the crowd. Her heart raced as she jumped up and pushed people aside in a panic, continuing to call out his name. He was just here. Wasn’t he? How long had she been zoned out?
“Ryan?”
“Ryan!”
Chapter 12 – Tessa
“What is it?” Nicholas asked, walking into the room as if nothing were wrong … as if their entire world wasn’t about to come crumbling down around them.
“Where’s Sophie?” Tessa asked in a shaky voice, unable to take her eyes off her computer screen.
“In her room, still deciding what to wear. Apparently, the purple shirt didn’t match the blue skirt, but she thought changing to the purple skirt would make her look like a grape, so she went with the red shirt, but then decided it would look better with pants, and for some reason that I’ll never understand, she thought I would be able to give her advice on the matter. Does this usually happen every morning?”
Tessa stared blankly at the name on the message waiting to be opened.
“Sweetie, did you hear anything I just said? Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“He contacted me,” she whispered.
“Who?”
Tessa shut her eyes for a second, feeling all of the breath leave her lungs. She looked back at the screen and pointed with a quivering finger, unable to say his name out loud.
Nicholas placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “Did you open it?” he asked in a soft voice.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Tessa, look at me.” He turned her around in her chair. “I love you, and I support you whatever you decide, but I really think you should read what he has to say. What if it’s something important, like a health issue that could affect Sophie? You’ve always said that was a huge concern for you—not knowing the medical history of her father’s side of the family.”
“What if he does?” Nicholas asked. “She’s been asking a lot of questions lately. She wants to know about her father. This may be her only chance to get to know him.”
“She knows enough.” Tessa turned back around. Damn you, Scott. Why now?
“She doesn’t know much of anything, sweetie.”
“Well, what was I supposed to tell her?” she asked, still keeping her voice low so her daughter wouldn’t overhear from her bedroom upstairs. “That her father is a coward who ran off because he didn’t want to be a husband to me or a father to her? That he disappeared and never once called to ask about her after she was born? Should I tell her how before we met you, we struggled and lived in a not-so-great neighborhood because her father never once paid us a dime of child support? Are these all the things I was supposed to tell her about her father? Because, believe it or not, despite my hostility—and I still have plenty—I somehow managed to keep all those redeeming qualities to myself. So yes, that’s why she knows so little about her father.”
“I’m sorry,” Nicholas replied, resting his head on top of hers. “You’re her mother. Whatever you decide to do, I’ll of course stand by you. You know I just want what’s best for Sophie … and you.”
“I know,” Tessa said. “You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to Sophie and me. Our lives are perfect right now. Our family is perfect right now. I just don’t want anything to ruin it. Bringing another person into the mix could change everything.”
“Are you two talking about having a baby?” Sophie squealed from the doorway, clasping her hands together. “I’m so excited!”
“What?” Tessa asked. While she was grateful her daughter hadn’t heard the entire conversation, she now had to figure out how to do major damage control. Standing to block the computer screen, she looked at her husband. Just how would they explain the conversation to their daughter? She hated to lie. “No, Sophie. I’m sorry, no. Nicholas and I were just talking about—”
“Your mom and I were just talking about the possibility of introducing you to … um,” Tessa was trying to subtly shake her head as he continued, “a puppy.”
“A what?” Tessa and Sophie asked together.
“That’s right. I know you’ve been wanting a puppy, Sophie, and well, you’re so good with both Aunt Ava and Aunt Holly’s dogs. Maybe it’s time we get you one of your own.”
“Really?” she squealed again, her excited expression returning once more. “But you said person when I walked in. I heard you.”
“Well,” Nicholas said, keeping a calm voice, “that’s because pets are like family members. Uncle Max refers to his dog as another one of his kids all of the time. You’ll see once it gets here.”
“And just when will that be, sweetie?” Tessa asked, wondering how this conversation went from no dog, to the possibility of a dog, to it already arriving.
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” Nicholas answered. “Like I said, Sophie, Mom and I were just discussing it when you walked in. A puppy is a big responsibility. We’ll talk some more about this later.” He looked at his wife and winked, before blowing her a kiss, most likely in hopes of keeping himself out of the doghouse.
“Sophie, are you ready for school?” Nicholas asked. “It’s time for us to get going.”
“Yup,” she replied, beaming. “This is turning out to be the best day ever. Bye, Mommy, can’t wait to watch movies with you later.”
“Me too, honey. Have a great day.” Tessa gave her daughter a hug and kiss and watched as she went off to find her book bag.
“I’m sorry,” Nicholas said once she left the room. “I couldn’t think of anything else. Don’t worry, I’ll figure something out. A puppy around here might be fun.”
Raising her eyebrows, Tessa shook her head in mock pity. “She’s got you wrapped around her finger, that’s for sure.” She sighed and looked back to her computer screen. “You think I should read it, don’t you?”
“I do, but ultimately the decision is yours. And remember, you don’t owe him anything … including a response. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Tessa responded. “Now, can I trust you to take Sophie to school without promising her a pony or any other living creatures?”
“Scouts honor,” he replied, holding up two fingers.
Tessa smiled as she listened to the sounds of her husband and daughter leaving the house. Wait a second, she thought, he was never a Boy Scout. She sighed and returned to the computer. Before she could give herself a chance to change her mind, she clicked to open the message.
Dear Tessa,
I hope this email finds you well. I know I’m the last person you ever expected to hear from. I saw your wedding announcement on our local news a while ago. I guess when you marry one of the richest men in the country word gets around. Your daughter was in the picture with you. Our daughter that is, although she looks just like you. I can’t believe she’s seven already. I probably have no right to ask this, but I’m going to be in town soon, and I was hoping I could come visit her.
All the best,
Scott
She slammed the cover to the laptop shut.
Chapter 13 - Ava
“Ryan!” Ava screamed again in a desperate attempt to find her toddler. The crowd in the museum continued to grow as more groups entered the main room of the Julien Henri exhibit. “Oh God, please be okay,” she whispered as she ran into the next room toward a security guard standing in the corner.
She stopped suddenly, shocked to see her son standing in front of one of the paintings, with a complete stranger. Pointing to the canvas before them, her child was explaining the finer points of impressionism, which Ava had taught him earlier that morning, in his broken three-year-old speech.
“Ryan!” she yelled, pulling him toward her. “You can’t run off like that. Mama was so worried about you.”
“You said look at the paintings,” he said, crinkling his nose. “And then you lost me.”
Scooping him up in her arms, she hugged him tight. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean— I’m here now. Next time don’t go anywhere without me. Okay? Promise?”
The man he’d been talking to continued to stand, watching their conversation. “It’s my fault,” he interjected. “I should have realized and taken him over to the security guard right away. He just seemed to have belonged here.”
Ava tilted her head, confused at what the man was saying to her. Belonged here?
“What I mean is, he didn’t seem at all scared. In fact, he walked right up to me and began telling me all about the painting. About the colors, brush strokes, and shadows. He’s really quite an art aficionado.”
“He’s not supposed to talk to strangers,” Ava said with an irritated tone, holding Ryan even tighter. Who did this guy think he was? And yes, he should have brought him over to the security guard. Who sees a toddler alone in a museum and thinks that’s okay? She shut her eyes for a second. Of course, who would let her toddler run off unattended in a museum? Maybe she was being a bit hard on this guy. “I’m sorry,” she hastened to apologize, correcting herself. “Thank you for watching out for him. He does indeed seem to have taken a liking to the arts.”
“I’m sure it’s a reflection of your parenting,” the man said, smiling. “You don’t see many young ones at the Museum of Fine Arts these days, at least not without an electronic device in their hands. It’s great when parents get their kids started at an early age.”
“Oh, well …” Ava felt heat rise to her cheeks. If he only knew she’d never brought either of her older two children here, and that this was her son’s first visit. “I do love it here.” It wasn’t a complete lie.
“Gregory Douglas,” the man said, holding out his hand.
Ava smiled. Of all the strange coincidences … could it be? It had been quite a while ago, but she thought his voice sounded a bit familiar. “The artist?” she asked, shif
ting Ryan to her other arm in order to return his handshake.
“Yes. I’m in town for an exhibit of my own. Nothing this grand, of course, just a small showing at a local gallery. You’re familiar with my work, then?”
“I am,” she stated, smiling. How funny, after all these years. “I’m Ava. Ava Wallis. I used to run the Silver Leaf Gallery in California. You probably don’t remember, but I helped arrange a big exhibit of yours about eight years ago. We never actually got a chance to meet face-to-face. I left town just before the exhibit ran, but I think we probably had about fifty phone conversations trying to set up all the details.”
“Yes, of course I remember you, Ava. I was so disappointed when you told me you were leaving town. The exhibit was one of my best, thanks to your hard work. Well now, it certainly is a small world and a pleasure to finally meet.”
“It is,” Ava agreed, thinking how Gregory was nothing like she’d pictured all those years ago. She knew he was a bit older than her, but he gave off a much younger and hip persona with his stylish salt and pepper hair and tortoise shell glasses. He could easily be a model, especially with his flawless skin and sparkling green eyes. Not to mention his infectious smile, which she instantly returned. Suddenly, she realized her focus on his appearance left her completely distracted and at a loss for words. “Um … so—”
“Mama, I’m hungry,” Ryan interrupted, bringing Ava back into reality.
“Yes, sweetie,” she said, shaking her head slightly, as if trying to remove any improper thoughts. “Well, Gregory, this was quite a surprise. It was a pleasure to finally meet, and again, thank you for watching out for my son.”
“Actually, I was just about to go grab a bite to eat myself. Would you two care to join me?” he asked.
