The Gift of a Lifetime

by Melissa Hill

  ‘Roll on summer,’ Jodi grumbled, draping the blanket around her shoulders ‘This winter’s been murder; it’s like Mother Nature is trying to kill us off. ’Course, the tourists love this winter wonderland stuff. Ugh, try living here.’

  Beth nodded, and looked out over the lake towards the Bethesda Fountain just visible on the opposite end from where they were sitting. The fountain, dominated by a bronze eight-foot-high winged statue at its middle, The Angel of the Waters, was a famous Central Park landmark.

  In the warm summer months, the imposing fountain was a beautiful display of water, but just then it was frozen, a solid artistic ice sculpture right in the centre of the park.

  The waitress returned and put the drinks down in front of the two women and Jodi wasted no time in taking a large swallow of hers.

  ‘Man, that tastes good.’ She sat in silence for a moment and turned to Beth. ‘So, tell me the truth, do you think Ryan is behind this?’

  Beth couldn’t help but blush. She hadn’t yet confessed to Jodi Danny’s revelation about Billy. It was all a bit embarrassing, to be honest, and truth be told, she really hoped it was Ryan behind the treasure hunt rather than the Scotsman. ‘I don’t know,’ she replied honestly. ‘I think that yes, there seems to be some correlation in the clues to some of the conversations we’ve had, and I suppose he has been sort of … wooing me for a while.’

  ‘And your head is turned too, I can see that,’ said Jodi, but Beth noticed that there was no judgement in her voice now.

  She shrugged. ‘Maybe just a little. But I don’t know, it’s a lot to think about at the moment. As I said, I just have a feeling that this adventure might prove important – one way or another. I need to play this out first before I figure out what to do with what else is going on in my life.’ She cast her eyes down to her steaming mug, suddenly feeling weary. ‘But, if it’s OK, I don’t want to talk about all this any more. Let’s change the subject.’

  One thing at a time, she thought, hoping Jodi wouldn’t press the issue. Thankfully, after several seconds of silence, her friend spoke again.

  ‘So like I was saying. I’m soooo over this cold – I need to get Trevor to whisk me off to Barbados or something,’ her friend babbled. ‘Mmm, a frolic in Caribbean waters sounds like heaven, just me and him splashing around like teenagers.’

  Beth, who had just taken a sip of her hot chocolate, suddenly stopped mid-drink. She held the warm liquid in her mouth for a moment, realizing that Jodi had just stirred a memory of something. Gulping loudly she turned to stare at her friend with a look on her face that was part enlightenment, part confusion. It was not lost on the other woman.

  ‘Beth? You OK? Something go down the wrong way?’ Jodi reached forward and slapped her hard on the back, in case she was choking.

  ‘No, no, it’s not that,’ Beth croaked. ‘It’s something else. What you just said.’

  Jodi’s gaze widened in confusion. ‘What I just said? About getting Trevor to take me to the—’

  ‘No, no, not that. About splashing around in the water.’

  Now on full alert, Beth turned again to look across at where the Bethesda Fountain proudly stood overlooking the lake. What Jodi had just said had sparked a memory involving the fountain. But not just a memory – an actual scene. From a movie. A very famous clip from another New York romantic film she recognized.

  ‘Oh my goodness…’ she gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. ‘How did I not think of it before?’

  Jodi sat up straighter in her chair. ‘What? Oh. You’ve figured it out, haven’t you? The movie, I mean. What is it?’

  Beth smiled triumphantly. ‘One Fine Day,’ she told her, delighted. ‘I remember it now. Michelle Pfeiffer’s character Melanie says that line, “You’re the most important thing in the world to me,” to her son, Sammy. He just wanted to go to his soccer game, which was to be played here in Central Park.’

  Jodi listened to Beth’s synopsis. ‘I honestly don’t think I have ever seen that one. And what about the marble?’

  Beth extracted the red marble from the pocket in her purse where she had placed it and set it on the table. ‘It was Jack’s – the hero – played by George Clooney. He let Sammy play with it and the little boy stuck it up his nose.’ Jodi made a face and stuck out her tongue in disgust. ‘Oh, Jodi, it wasn’t this marble – at least I don’t think so,’ Beth added hurriedly. ‘But in any case, it was one of the warnings that Melanie had given Jack earlier in the day: that her son liked to stick things up his nose. But Jack wasn’t paying enough attention and that’s exactly what happened. Sammy stuck a red marble just like this one up his nose.’

  Jodi was nodding as she listened but then shrugged. ‘OK, so that’s all very well and good, but now where do we go? Bellevue Hospital? Lenox Hill? The ER? Not very romantic.’

  But Beth was already shaking her head and standing up. She took some money out of her purse and placed it on the table to cover their drinks.

  ‘No, not the ER. One Fine Day is one of those movies that did a particularly great job portraying New York as a backdrop. I remember watching it back home and being captivated – not by Clooney but the location. New York itself is as much a character in that movie as any other – it held a starring role. And there were lots of other famous city locations featured in it – Carnegie Deli, the Lincoln Center, Elizabeth Arden. But I don’t think the answer is at any of those places, Jodi,’ she said, eyes shining with anticipation as she realised she’d got this clue figured out too. ‘I don’t think I’m supposed to go to any of those places, because the hero and heroine, Jack and Melanie, realise that they are falling for each other in one very pivotal scene.’

  Jodi knocked back her drink and gathered her things, sensing Beth’s urgency and guessing that they would soon be departing the Boathouse.

  ‘OK, OK, so you got me – where?’

  Beth smiled and pointed across the lake.

  ‘Over there. The fountain. Jack and Melanie splash in the puddles of water around the fountain with their kids. It was the turning point in the story.’ She bit her lip. ‘And call it a gut feeling, but I think that it’s going to be my turning point in this adventure too.’

  Chapter 30

  ‘Beth, wait up – I can’t run in these shoes,’ Jodi called out as she struggled to keep pace with her friend while tottering unceremoniously in Lucy Choi heels. Beth was effortlessly running around the lake in boots, headed straight towards the Bethesda Fountain. ‘Why do we have to rush?’ Jodi moaned.

  But Beth wouldn’t be delayed. She ran as quickly as her legs would take her and as she rounded Terrace Drive, the Bethesda Fountain was presented before her. Her eyes frantically searched the space – the crowd – hungrily as she gasped for air after her sprint.

  She was on high alert for something – anything – to indicate that she was indeed in the right place.

  She knew she had just solved the clue. But, like before, what she was supposed to be looking for next, she had no idea. However, as with the rest of this hunt, Beth felt certain that she would know it when she saw it.

  She stopped for long enough that Jodi had a chance to catch up. Out of breath, her friend approached from the right and followed Beth’s gaze, searching the open terrace.

  ‘OK, Sherlock, now what are we looking for?’

  Beth took in the scene. There was a small festive-themed art exhibition of sorts taking place in one area of the terrace, couples drinking coffee on the benches, people walking their dogs and enjoying the last remnants of the day. But, truth be told, nothing out of the ordinary stuck out or grabbed her attention. It was essentially just a pretty typical evening in Central Park. ‘I have no idea, Jodi. I just feel like I will know it when I see it.’

  At that moment, Beth’s phone beeped, signalling an incoming text.

  Weird timing. Or convenient timing, perhaps? But as she grabbed her phone and looked down she saw it was just Danny.

  ‘Just’ Danny, she repeated, feeling numb. Funny ho
w the brain modified its internal language.

  She looked at the message. He was telling her that he was going back to the office; that he had to work late. Again.

  Right. Again. If anything was convenient, it was Danny’s message. She hated the fact that her imagination immediately conjured up the worst-case scenario. That he was going back to his girlfriend’s place. Maybe to make up after this afternoon’s drama.

  She typed a terse reply. ‘No problem. Have a good night,’ and pressed send without another thought.

  But within seconds, another text came through – again from Danny. What are you up to – working late maybe? I’m so sorry again, that I have to bail, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise.

  Make it up to her? That was just the kind of thing a cheat would say, wasn’t it? Talk about a cliché. Beth focused on the screen and had to work hard at batting away some of the replies that came to mind, but then she realised it was neither the time nor the place for this. She kept her response neutral. Finished work. Just out for a walk in Central Park with Jodi. No problem. Talk to you later.

  She hit send, secretly hoping that he wouldn’t respond, but still feeling her spirits sink when indeed her phone remained silent. She guessed he was probably happy she didn’t fuss. He could enjoy his time with the dark-haired woman and sleep easier tonight.

  Jodi stood by, watching her friend’s face and taking clear note when it fell into despair.

  ‘Was that Danny?’ she asked quietly.

  Beth nodded. ‘He’s working late. Said he had to go back to the office.’

  Jodi let out a sound that sounded disturbingly like a dog’s growl. ‘Jerk. I would love to give it to him for you, sweetie. But don’t mind him – this has nothing to do with him. Let’s stick to the plan. Put him out of your mind.’

  Beth swallowed hard and knew that her friend was right. It was true: this had nothing to do with Danny. She wouldn’t let his deceitful antics sully the treasure hunt.

  The pair continued to wander around the perimeter of the fountain. Beth could almost feel the nervous tension radiating off Jodi’s body – almost as if she was waiting for a silent assailant to lunge upon them, or maybe she was just still angry about Danny’s behaviour.

  But Beth didn’t feel any of that anxiety. She was focused squarely on putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

  ‘So like, how does this work then?’ her friend asked. ‘Are we looking specifically for something to do with the movie? Because remember, I’ve never seen One Fine Day, so I don’t know how much help I can be.’

  Beth shook her head. ‘No, that’s not really how it has worked up to now. So far I’ve shown up at a location to which a clue pointed. And it’s there that I’m provided with another signpost. Think about when we were on the boat yesterday. The reference from Romancing the Stone pointed me – or should I say you pointed me – to the location of the boat. And it was there I received the clue to The Seven Year Itch. So it’s likely that by figuring out this clue’s location, I should come across another pointing me somewhere else.’

  Jodi yawned. ‘Seems like waaay too much work to me.’

  ‘Not if you love this stuff as much as I do. I think it’s great fun, and very sweet too.’ She thought again about Ryan and how much in character this was. He was such a flirt by nature, and she supposed that’s exactly what this was – a form of extended flirting; wooing, even.

  But where will it all lead?

  Beth and Jodi circled the fountain twice. Darkness had fully set in, the streetlights were on and people were beginning to leave and head back out to the city. Beth started to wonder if her timing with this one might be off. And then another thought occurred to her. What if she was in the wrong place?

  ‘Beth, it’s getting late,’ Jodi said. ‘Maybe it isn’t your night for this one.’

  But Beth wasn’t satisfied just yet.

  Now that the crowds at the terrace were thinning out, she was able to get a better view of the space – and the first thing that caught her eye was the small exhibition. It seemed to be a collaboration of various festive craft stalls and art exhibits, and many of them had finished selling their Christmas wares and tourist trinkets, and were closing up shop for the night.

  However, one artist who continued to sit with his paintings, seemingly in no rush to leave, caught Beth’s attention. Suspecting that this guy might be key somehow, she made her way over to his stand.

  ‘Hey there,’ said the man as she approached one of his canvases. Beth saw that he was showcasing a number of hand painted reproductions of various famous works. There were some that she recognized on sight, The Starry Night by Van Gogh, Water Lilies by Monet, and various others. But nothing in particular – certainly nothing in relation to the One Fine Day movie – jumped out at her.

  ‘Did you paint all these?’ she enquired of the young man, who had a sallow complexion and swarthy appearance, as if he had grown up on some Mediterranean island. When he spoke he had only the subtlest hint of an accent – he had obviously been in the States long enough to lose it. So, longer than she had, anyway.

  He smiled. ‘Yes. I did. Not as good as some of the greats, I’m humble enough to admit, but not bad either, yes?’

  Beth smiled and considered the paintings one by one. She noticed that Jodi was at the other end of the display, also studying the young man’s work.

  ‘Here you go, Beth. If you still need a Christmas present for me, this is what you should pick. More my style,’ said Jodi, pointing at one particular canvas.

  Beth approached to see what she was looking at and she had to laugh. ‘Yes, that would fit right in with your décor. Perfect.’

  The young man, who had been watching the pair, smiled and waved his hands around with great flourish. ‘Ah yes, Coolidge’s unsung masterpiece Dogs Playing Poker.’ On the canvas were various breeds of dogs sitting around a poker table, throwing chips in, dealing cards.

  Beth looked at the painting again, and then looked at the two canvases on either side of it. The Son of Man, originally by René Magritte, was there too. Famous for its ambiguous corporate appeal, the painting depicted a man in a suit with a bowler hat and an apple covering his face. And then, another painting she knew immediately on sight – San Giorgio Maggiore at Dusk, originally by Monet.

  It was perhaps the view she remembered most from that time in Venice with Danny all those years ago. In the famous painting, Monet had skilfully captured a Venetian sunset across the lagoon waters. She had to admit, it was a very good copy – this young painter did indeed have some skill.

  Noticing her interest, the man approached. ‘You like this one?’

  Feeling emotional, Beth nodded and felt tears pricking the back of her eyes.

  Quickly she placed a smile on her face, determined not to succumb to all the wonderful memories from that trip. Danny kissing her cheek in a gondola and holding a camera with his left hand, his arm outstretched to capture the moment on film. His green eyes crinkling around the edges and that dimple that she loved on his left cheek, one that only appeared when he was about to burst out laughing, which had been the case then. Thinking back, she recalled the moment and remembered what had been funny – two gondoliers in the canal next to them had been serenading Beth. One of them had subsequently fallen off the back of his gondola into the canal, only to emerge from the water, blowing kisses their way.

  A veritable movie-reel of memories continued on – she and Danny on Rialto Bridge, dancing amongst the pigeons to the café orchestra on St Mark’s Square, in the Biblioteca di San Barnaba – the library in which a scene from Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade had been filmed. It was actually Danny who’d informed Beth of that piece of trivia, and while it wasn’t an overly romantic movie, she’d had a hard time keeping her heart from pounding at the thought of swashbuckling Harrison Ford. And she had an even more difficult time not breaking into giggles as she imagined Danny trying to pull up the manhole cover that in the movie the dashing Dr Jones had crawled out
of in front of the library following an escapade in the city’s sewer system.

  So many memories of their relationship in the good times that were once so treasured, and now were irrevocably tainted.

  She pointed to the painting, a lump in her throat. ‘This one – it’s one of my favourites by Monet. I adore Venice and I’ve always especially loved this painting.’

  The young man nodded. ‘Yes, me too. I grew up there.’

  Beth’s eyes widened. ‘In Venice? Oh, wow. I’ve been only once, but it was very special. Why did you leave?’

  The artist shrugged. ‘Venice, yes, it’s beautiful, a great city. But I am young, artistic. And this is the City that Never Sleeps.’ He smiled and ran a hand through his hair. ‘New York is a great place to go to art school, and this – it helps pay the bills.’

  A migrant herself, Beth could, of course, appreciate that.

  ‘Well, you’re very talented.’ She took a step back and looked at the painting and then considered the others that surrounded it. The Son of Man and Dogs Playing Poker. Then an idea struck her. It couldn’t be? Could it? Or was she just seeing potential clues in everything now?

  But she decided to chance it. ‘These three paintings,’ she asked. ‘Why did you group them together? Seems like an odd choice – unless…’

  Suddenly the young man’s eyes turned mischievous.

  ‘What is it?’ she urged, feeling as if she was being left out of a joke.

  ‘Nothing, I was just waiting to hear what you were going to say,’ said the young man.

  She pursed her lips. She didn’t want to put words in anyone’s mouth, but she had to ask. ‘Do you like movies?’

  And the young man’s grin widened. ‘Love them.’

  Beth felt excitement growing in her stomach, and her heart rate speeded up. She was on to something, she knew it. ‘These three pictures – they were all featured in a movie actually. Did you know that?’