by J. P. Comeau
“That sounds like fun, doesn’t it, Caley?” I turned to my daughter, who was drinking water and swinging her legs.
Caley had been obsessed with Disney ever since she saw Sleeping Beauty. All she ever talked about was growing up and becoming a princess.
I hoped, unlike myself, Caley would actually find a man worthy enough to be her prince. I knew the chances of that were slim, though. Men were all turning out the same way, never satisfied, and they changed with the tides.
“Yes,” Caley said while reaching for another piece of garlic bread. “Does it have Princess Aurora stickers and stuff?”
Annie nodded, winking at me. Even though I wanted Caley to relax with a movie that night, it was important for her to be creative too.
When we were done eating, I paid the bill and then called a cab to come to the restaurant. Annie and Caley were leaving in Annie's Jeep, and I needed to get back to the art gallery. Helen wouldn’t be happy if I showed up late. She liked me standing there, smiling broadly when the clients began to arrive.
“Will you come pick me up in the morning,” Caley asked, wrapping her arms around my legs.
My heart broke as I reassured her that yes, I would absolutely be there to pick her up. "Mommy just needs to work this art showing tonight, but I will be back tomorrow." I brushed the hair from her face. "Besides, you and Aunt Annie always have so much fun together, right?"
Caley nodded big and gave the thumbs up. I smiled as Annie walked over and picked her up. She was growing up so fast. Beyond being in school, she looked almost too big for Annie to carry.
I opened up the cab door, and they both waved. Annie grinned at me, always happy when she saw me doing something other than being the mom and laundry queen. "Have fun!"
I sunk into the seat, sad that I’d be away from my daughter for the night but excited about the art show. I was thankful to have a job that I really enjoyed. It was a long cab ride, but so much easier than me fighting the traffic and trying to find parking in the city. Besides, Helen reimbursed me for most of my travel. It was the only way I agreed to work at the gallery. I guess she really liked me. The trip was calm and quiet, and by the time I got to the gallery, I was feeling relaxed and ready to go.
I walked into the gallery hoping that everything was perfect. When I left earlier that day, all of the paintings were hung, and they were pulling champagne out of the storage cellar. Once I saw that everything seemed to be in order, I grabbed two glasses and made my way over to Gregory. He was talking with two men who appeared to be stereotypical art connoisseurs. One of them was wearing a navy Ralph Lauren turtleneck, tucked into his khakis, and the other, a white and light blue V-neck sweater over black dress pants. Both of them looked as though they had big, fat bank accounts.
“There you are,” I said in my professional, albeit fake voice. “I hope everyone’s having a good time at our showing.”
I handed a champagne flute to Gregory, who seemed thankful to have something to occupy his hands with. He gave me a quick wink and kissed me on my left cheek. “This is Amancio and his husband, Edward.”
I extended my free hand to both of them, smiling as I tried my best to butter them up. Upon closer inspection, I could tell both men had some cosmetic surgery done. Nothing too over the top, like the kind that gives you a cat face. Just some Botox and under-eye collagen fillers.
In other words, they had disposable income.
“You have a beautiful gallery.” Amancio placed his hand on his hip and pointed to Gregory's $5,000 painting. “I was just telling Edward that would look amazing in our fourth guest bedroom.”
I just about choked on my champagne. How could someone have four guest bedrooms, and I didn't even have one?
Edward nodded while adjusting his sweater. He seemed a bit more interested in the $9,000 one, which was a painting of a Rubenesque brunette enjoying a slice of cake.
“Wouldn’t that be breathtaking in our breakfast nook,” he said as they wrapped arms around each other.
Both of them smiled, and I could see William's eyes light up.
“But that’s nearly $15,000, darling,” Amancio said.
“I’m more than willing to negotiate if you’re interested in both,” Gregory explained. “Allow me to converse with Helen and Julianna if that’s alright.”
I did my best to hold in a giggle while sipping some more champagne. Gregory’s attempt to sound upscale was passable. Funny, but adequate.
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Edward nodded.
Julianna and Gregory made their way over to Helen, who was talking to a woman interested in one of his other paintings. It was of a castle surrounded by pink and green flowers, but the woman wasn’t into the price tag.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad painting,” she told Helen in her uppity, holier-than-thou voice. “I’m just saying it’s not worth $4,000.”
I could see the anger forming on Helen’s face. Negotiating with wealthy cheapskates was a big part of the art industry. The more money a person had, the cheaper they tended to be.
“What do you think it’s worth?” Gregory asked in a stern voice.
I could tell that he was a bit upset with her trying to lowball him, and why shouldn’t he be? As an artist, those paintings were the product of his hard work. He decided the price, and if someone didn't like it, quite frankly they could buy art somewhere else.
She was surprised to see him suddenly appear, and hesitated before answering in the same tone.
“I’m thinking more like $1,000,” she said, finishing the rest of her champagne and grabbing another one as a waiter walked by.
I recognized her earrings and shimmied a little bit closer to her. “I love your earrings."
“Thank you,” she replied, lighting up from ear to ear. “They’re from-"
“Tiffany,” I interrupted her. “From their Victoria line, right?”
Her free hand went up and touched her left earring, admiring all of the diamonds. “I see you have good taste."
The woman wasn’t getting it, though.
“I believe they go for about $40,000, right?” Now she knew what I was hinting at, but I was still so calm and collected that Helen couldn’t get mad at me.
I was simply making small talk with a potential buyer, and they appreciated it when you had common interests — especially when that common interest cost a lot of money.
“I’ll take the painting,” she quickly said.
She guzzled the rest of her champagne, wrapped her Burberry shawl around her neck, and made her way to the front desk.
“That’s why you work here,” Helen said with a smile.
Gregory exhaled a sigh of relief and gave me a big hug. “Remind me to never work with any other gallery. At least not one that you don’t work at!”
All three of us began to laugh.
I figured since I had convinced the woman to pay full price for the painting, it would soften the blow when I followed up with a request for a discount. “Helen, there are two men interested in buying two of his paintings. Can we give the standard 20% discount? The total would normally be $14,000. I’m sure they have the money, but you know how these people can be.”
Helen nodded. “Yes, that’s fine. As long as Gregory is okay with it.”
Gregory scoffed, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me? This night is turning out better than I had hoped! Just keep the champagne coming so I can deal with these people.”
Gregory and I started to make our way back to the two men when my phone rang. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. I definitely didn’t recognize the number.
“Do you need to get that?” Gregory asked.
I nodded, passing him a smile. “Yeah, it might have to do with my daughter. I’ll be right back.”
"Yes, girl, go," Gregory replied. "I'll take it from here."
I ducked outside and answered my phone. “Hello?”
“All these years and you still have the same number?”
I i
mmediately recognized the voice.
“Jake?”
4
Jake
I sat at the bar, waiting for Richard to come in. I had thrown on a pair of dark denim jeans and a white t-shirt, trying my best to keep it casual. River Valley was a laid back place, the kind where wealthy people really stood out. Although Richard was pretty rich himself, but I didn't want to draw attention to either of us. But all eyes were on Richard as soon as he walked through the door. That’s what I loved about River Valley. Everybody was friendly, and they remembered you, no matter how long you stayed away. I even waved to a few people I hadn’t seen in years when I first got there.
“There he is,” Richard said, walking toward me. “I hope you didn’t start drinking. I know how you like to party.”
He gave me a long, warm hug, and it immediately lifted my spirits. It was exactly what I needed. I longed to be back in my hometown with my family.
“It’s way too early for that,” I said, walking with him to a table. “And I’m honestly kind of tired of the party scene. It gets old after a while.”
A waitress brought over two menus and glasses of water. She was cute, and definitely my type, but I ignored her flirtatious smile. I wanted to focus all of my attention on Richard. He was my brother, and it had been far too long since I had seen him.
“Yeah, right,” Richard laughed, looking over the menu. “I wish my body could handle it, but I'm officially old.”
I sipped my water. "No argument there."
His eyes shifted up over the menu. "Watch it, I know where you're going to be sleeping while you're here."
I smiled as I scanned the menu, finding the humor and lack of overbearing machismo to be invigorating. I loved Hillard, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I felt like I was stuck in a high school locker room. He wasn't really the quiet and chill kind of guy.
After looking at the menu for a few minutes, we both settled on cheeseburgers, fries, and colas.
Richard handed his menu over to the waitress with a friendly smile. When she walked away, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, just like our father did. “So, how’s work going?”
I hesitated when it came to telling him the raw truth. Work was wearing me down, and I desperately needed a break. I knew my brother would try to convince me to stay a few days longer than I had planned, and maybe that would be a good idea. But I was also aware from past experience I shouldn’t make that promise as soon as I got into town. At first it always felt good to be back home, but usually after a few days I went stir crazy.
“It’s good. Stressful at times, but good.”
Richard shrugged. “If you want to be successful in life, you have to break your back a little bit.”
I smiled and took a long sip of my soda, remembering all the times our father had said that to us. It started young. He gave us chores, and mine was to mow the lawn. I complained the whole time and swore I was too young to have to work. And the day I showed Dad where I had looked up the child labor laws, explaining how he was breaking the law—well let’s just say for a month Dad’s car was spotless and there was nary a single stick on the lawn.
“Remember how Dad used to tell us how easy we had it?" I rolled my eyes.
Richard scoffed. “Remember? How could I forget! He acted as though he grew up without any shoes, having to walk uphill through the snow just to get to school.”
“I guess he taught us well. Although, I have no intention of ever mowing a lawn again. I still shudder when I think about how I sweated my ass off while pushing that mower in the middle of July. I’m surprised I didn’t get a heatstroke.”
Richard flicked his straw wrapper across the table at me. "Yeah, well, you've done pretty good for yourself. I'm sure you would be okay just hiring someone to do your lawn. Or, you could settle down and have kids of your own so they can mow it for you.”
I lifted a brow at him. "I know you still live here in the same town as our father, and you probably spend a lot of time together, but don't go full relationship with me. I've been here like thirty seconds."
Richard put up his hands, chuckling. "Alright, I'm sorry. I'll wait until tomorrow."
"It's not like you have room to talk," I replied, pointing at him. "You’re single too."
He grimaced at me. "Don't remind me, Dad does it enough."
We laughed like old times, something that fed me more than the burger and fries did. Nothing had changed between the two of us. We still picked on each other, we always joked about the old days, and we were both still as stubborn as hell.
"Alright guys," the waitress said, holding the tray in front of her. "Two burgers with fries."
She set the food down in front of us, and my mouth instantly watered. There was nothing like small-town meals.
“Nothing in San Diego tastes as good as this burger,” I said, trying to fit as much into my mouth as possible.
Manners were different in River Valley. Yes sir, no sir, and feed the boys. I was perfectly fine with that. As usual, there was little conversation between us as we stuffed our faces. I could remember dinner time in our house growing up, all you could hear was the clinking of the forks against the plates.
When we finished our meals, the waitress came back. "Any dessert?"
We stared at each other for a second and nodded, letting out a howling laugh. "I'll have a brownie sundae if it's still on the menu."
The waitress snickered, her cheeks red as she glanced shyly at me. "Of course it is. They would run us out of here if it wasn’t.”
"I'll have the apple pie and ice cream," Richard replied, eyeing me suspiciously.
I could feel her gaze as she wrote down the order and headed to the kitchen. I tried to ignore my brother's stare, but I knew it was coming.
“She has the hots for you.”
There it was. I shrugged and placed a straw in my new soda. Even though Hillard suggested I have a fling while visiting River Valley, and I could definitely have some fun with her, I just wasn’t feeling it. I was nonchalant about it, of course, hoping to escape my brother's relentless teasing. “Nah, I’m good.”
When she came back with the sundae and apple pie, I tried my best to not look at her. I could hear my brother chuckling across the table. "Coast is clear, or did you want to get completely under the table and hide?"
I glanced up at him and smirked, changing the subject. “How are things with your new house?”
Richard shrugged. “Big and empty, but I’m happy. You have the entire guest house to yourself, by the way. I think you’ll like it.”
“I can’t wait to see the house that Dad pressured you into buying,” I laughed.
Richard just shook his head. He knew our father had swindled him, making him buy the house he liked, but Richard didn't mind. My brother wanted to appease the old man, made life easier on him. I didn't go out of my way to go against our father, but I was a bit less open-minded about just letting him get whatever he wanted.
After we finished our desserts, I started my rental car and followed Richard as we headed to the house. My brother’s home sat high atop the one significant hill in River Valley, and it had our father written all over it. The place was way too big for just one man, but also very masculine — laid out on one vast floor with dark shutters, columns, and all the little excessive details our father liked. You could see the two-story guest house from the road. It was close to three thousand square feet. It backed up to the wood line, behind the pool. To the right, it had its own driveway and a perfectly manicured lawn.
“Here we are,” he said, as I got out of my car. “Casa de Richard. What do you think?”
I walked up the cobblestone path and let out a long whistle. The place was even more impressive in person.
“Could this be any more like Dad?” I laughed, admiring the landscape.
There was plenty of lush greenery, flowers, and even a koi pond with a small waterfall. Richard's garage could hold the entirety of my penthouse inside of it i
f you took out his collection of vintage cars.
“Dad knew I’d like it when the realtor showed it to him,” Richard said, grabbing some of my bags.
“It’s definitely his style. Is that a golf course over there?” I pointed across the road.
Richard nodded. “Yep. It’s private, though. I haven’t gotten a membership yet. Maybe you and I should check it out tomorrow. What do you think?"
I squinted my eyes and shrugged my shoulders. “Sounds good to me, so long as you plan on going back after I leave. I don’t want you to waste your money on a membership you’ll never use.”
It wasn't like he had to worry about money. Our overbearing father instilled in us the value of hard work and saving as much as we could.
“I think you’re just worried that I’ll beat you,” he said, walking with me to the guest house.
Just like his mansion, the guest house also had floor-to-ceiling windows. I loved the winding concrete steps that were dotted with green plants. It gave the place character without being too feminine, which I knew was important to my brother. I was fine with a decorator going all out, and while the plants looked good here, they would be dead in two weeks at my place. My green thumb, if I ever had one, had turned brown.
“Pfft,” I scoffed as he opened the front door.
It had an open concept, with three large, white sofas in the middle of the living room. In front of them was a glass table with onyx marble legs. Several magazines were spread out on top like the tables in a doctor's office waiting room. I half expected to see an AARP advertisement and a Fitness Over 40 magazine.
Straight ahead was the kitchen, and on each side of the archway were staircases that led up to a balcony overlooking the living room.
“Are you kidding me,” I said, walking into the kitchen. It was immaculate, with stainless steel appliances and a smart refrigerator. “I’ve been dying to get one of these things.”
I touched my hand to the front of the fridge and was immediately able to see the inside. The thing was stocked to the gills with meats and produce. On the outside of the refrigerator was a touchscreen that synched to a wireless device.
