Triptych
Five
KATE, MELODY, AND I sat together most of Wednesday evening going through our portfolios. Kate had some impressive work. She loved charcoal, but she had an incredible talent with pastels and acrylics. She painted awesome detail. As a result, she tended to paint small things very large. I mean, she’d look at a landscape, and instead of painting the whole thing, she would paint every detail of a single flower in the foreground with the rest looking blurred in the background. I’d never seen someone paint such idiosyncratic depth of field.
She loved my new painting of Lissa, Beth, and Melody in the woods, but when I showed her the sketch that I’d done after the fact, she liked it even more. The oil I was working on was the scene they’d posed in the woods. Beth was on the rock with Melody to her left and Lissa to her right. They were smiling, loving, a little mischievous, and very pastoral. But the sketch I’d done later was of the three laughing and splashing each other in the water. It was less posed and I loved the action. That scene was burned into my memory.
We finally put together a portfolio that showed an equal number of my pieces and hers and went to meet Clarice on Thursday at noon.
Wendy met us when we walked into Carmine’s Cucina and gave each of us a hug. We went straight over to Clarice’s booth and slid in. She immediately started perusing our portfolio. Wendy brought us Cokes and we each ordered a salad. Now that I was working out, I was becoming more conscious of what I ate. I’d lost two pounds in the past week.
“This is good,” Clarice said. “It’s not enough, but you knew that. Kate, we need more painting. Your charcoals are beautiful, but look, they are already smudging. Kids, you’ve got to look at your work as your assets. Pieces like this need to be protected and sealed—preferably behind glass. You can’t let them transfer to other pieces.”
“Yes ma’am,” Kate said politely. She looked sheepish.
“Tony, the oils have higher value in the market than the watercolors. The two of the nymphs in the woods we’ll want to keep as a pair if we can. They’ll be matched in size, won’t they?”
“I’m not sure I want to sell those,” I said. Clarice looked at me like I’d grown a second head.
“There may not be any need for us to continue,” she said. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I represent artists who are ready to enter the market. That means selling their works. If you are simply painting for your own pleasure, that’s different.”
“It’s just… they’re my friends… and lovers.”
“Then get models you aren’t emotionally attached to. And paint something besides nudes. That’s not the biggest market right now. The Internet killed it. But I need to know, if you are going to paint works that can be sold or works that you want to keep hidden in your own bedroom. You decide.”
“I want to sell,” I said. “It’s just been a little sudden. I know this is a great opportunity.”
“Then let’s talk contract. Did your lawyer look it over?”
“He said it was fair and only questioned how much ‘management’ you would be doing. It sounds like you have pretty strong opinions regarding what I should be painting.”
“No,” Clarice said. “You paint whatever you want in whatever medium you want. I’ll be very straight with you, though. I can simply negotiate the sale of your Suite and commissioned works, or I can help launch your career. If I’m launching your career, I need nine salable works—not including the portraits you exhibit that are commissioned—from each of you in six months. If you commit to that, I can get the space and you can both make a successful entry into the market. You have to answer whether that’s what you want out of your college education. I won’t be able to put your first painting in an art museum where lots of people will see it, so selling in a show is the best I can do. After the first show, you will need to keep producing artwork at a rate that we can keep doing shows and keep selling. If you stop producing, we’ll stop selling. If you stop selling, it is much harder to start again. That’s what I do to manage your career.”
“I’m good with that,” I said. “It will be hard, but I can do it.”
Clarice pushed the contract over to me to sign. Our lawyer, Mr. MacDonald, had gone through the papers and pointed out where I would have to sign when I made my decision. I also had to fill in my address, date of birth, and Social Security number. I found the places in the contract and signed them. I was now an agented artist. Clarice signed and I had representation for the next twelve months.
“Now, Kate,” Clarice said. “I have a contract for you as well if you want representation.”
“I’d rather not sign one right now,” Kate said quickly.
“Of course. I made Tony take his with him, too. We can still work something out for the exhibition in February, even without a contract.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Kate said. “I mean, I’ll commit to doing the show and we can make an agreement before that. I’d like to wait at least a couple of months until I know how this fall is going to go in school.”
“That’s not a problem,” Clarice said. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do and it’s a beautiful afternoon in July.”
We left Carmine’s Cucina and I walked Kate back to work at the Art Museum. I’m not sure how it happened, but somewhere along Second Avenue, Kate’s hand slipped into mine as we walked. We talked about what was happening in our lives, how exciting and overwhelming the conversation with Clarice was, and even about the upcoming birthday party for Damon on Saturday.
“Um… I have a question,” Kate said. I was getting used to the fluctuation between Kate the confident negotiator and business woman and Kate the shy and hesitant girlfriend. She squeezed my hand a little harder.
“What is it, Kitten?”
“I have tickets to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo at Woodland Park Zoo next weekend and I was hoping you’d come,” she said softly.
I was acutely aware of Kate holding my hand and had a moment of panic, almost letting go. We’d become such good friends and we were hoping to invite Kate into our lives, but Kate was asking me out.
“Kate… um… you know that I… um… like you a lot, but it’s not like I just go out and date people besides Lissa and Melody. I mean…”
“Tony! You ass! I wouldn’t ask you out without Lissa and Melody. Not on our first date. I’ve got four tickets. Do I need to speak Southern and say I was hoping all y’all’d come?”
I laughed at myself. Then I heard what she was saying.
“Our first date?” I asked. “Are you asking the three of us out on a date?”
“Well… um… yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t do it right. I’ve never done it before.”
I was grinning so hard I thought my face would break. I pulled her into a hug.
“Let’s do it right, then,” I said. I pulled out my phone and dialed the connection that would ring on both Lissa’s and Melody’s phones at once.
“Did you do it?” Melody shouted. “Did you sign?”
“Yes,” I said. “I now have an agent.”
“That’s wonderful, darling,” Lissa said. “Are we on speaker phone? There’s an echo.”
“Yes. I’m standing under the Hammering Man with just the cutest little brunette you’ve ever met,” I said. Kate blushed and pushed at my arm, but she kept hold of my hand. “She’s just popped the question.”
“What?” screeched Melody. “Which question? I’ve got about twenty of them!”
I turned to Kate and held up the phone.
“Oh… I thought this would be easier if I just spoke to one of you first and you’d all just… Oh. Tony… Melody… Lissa… would you go out with me to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo at Woodland Park Zoo a week from Saturday? I’d… I’d… I’d like to take you out on a date.”
There was a squeal over the phone and I could just see Melody bouncing up and down.
“Yes!” all three of us said.
“We’d love to go out with you,” Lissa said. “What should we wear?”
Okay. Now that’s just silly. We just accepted a date with a girl we’ve been crushing on for months and the first topic of discussion is what should we wear? To the zoo? There were a few moments of excited chatter before Kate said she really had to get back to work, but she’d see us on Saturday for Damon’s party. I told my lovers I’d see them soon and gave Kate a sweet, gentle kiss—three times—before she went into the museum to continue her day’s work.
A date with Kate. Sweet!
“Hi. I’m Noelle James.”
“Hi. Tony Ames. We rhyme.”
“If we let a seven-year-old hear that we’ll be stuck together for the rest of the day. James and Ames. I thought I knew all the parents. Which of these are yours?”
“Damon and Drew,” I said nonchalantly. I let her chew on that for a minute. She did.
“Uh… Jack…?” she asked looking over where the boys’ dad was pitching the softball.
“Their dad?” I asked back. What of it?
Noelle James was one of those cute moms-of-money that you sometimes hear about. She was thin and toned. Her teeth were perfect. Her nails were highly polished. Her hair looked like she’d just come from Paule Attar. I bet her pussy was waxed and her toenails were… yup. Open-toed sandals showed me her toenails matched her fingernails. I just bet she’d be gossiping with the other moms in five minutes.
Then I saw Lissa. Shit. Thin and toned, perfect teeth, beautiful manicure, easy-to-care-for hair that always looked great, waxed pussy… I was such a hypocrite. I was saved by Melody who chose that moment to sweep in and kiss me on the cheek.
“Hi, sweetie!” she chirped.
“Hi, my love,” I answered. “I’d like to introduce you to Noelle James. Noelle, you’re Jimmy’s mom, aren’t you? This is Melody Anderson.”
“Oh! Of course!” Noelle nearly shouted as apparently lights came on. “Tony and Meddy!”
“Yeah,” Melody agreed. “Drew hasn’t quite managed to get his mouth around ‘Melody’ yet.”
“Well, get used to it,” Noelle said. “I read an article recently that said childhood mispronunciation of names frequently become nicknames that last an entire lifetime. Once the name is learned, it is never replaced.”
“I don’t mind,” Melody laughed. “Even Tony and Lissa sometimes call me Meddy.”
“That’s what I mean. If you keep this up, everyone you know will be calling you Meddy by the end of the year.”
“I think we’ll keep it in the family. How’d you happen to hear it?”
“My daughter, Ella, is in the same preschool as Drew. I was volunteering one day this spring when I heard Drew talk about getting sick on his big date with Meddy and Pretty—or pretty Meddy—I never quite got that straightened out. He was more concerned about spoiling his date than about how sick he was.”
“Well, now you’ve met us in person. Anything else we should know about the stories the boys have been telling about us?”
“Oh, not so much. Both boys refer to you both as their girlfriend. Exactly how does that work?”
“Mmm. Noelle, perhaps this isn’t the best time to go into that. Maybe when Lissa is here.”
“Where?” Lissa said coming up to me. She kissed me on the cheek. We had agreed this morning that a kiss on the cheek, shared with each other, the boys, Jack, and Kate, was the maximum public display of affection permitted at Damon’s birthday party. I returned the kiss, and so did Melody.”
“Are you European, or is this a new standard greeting for Damon’s girlfriends?” Noelle smirked.
“Noelle, don’t be catty or I won’t tell you the secret,” Lissa said.
“Oh no! Lissa? Are they the secret?” Noelle whispered.
“Well, not for long,” Lissa said. “But we’re not advertising.”
Noelle immediately looked at Lissa and then at Melody. She reached out and touched Lissa’s necklace.
“Not much.”
Her eyes swept over me and lit at once on the bracelet I wore. She reached out, raised an eyebrow at me, and I raised my hand so she could examine the symbol.
“Maybe we could have dinner together sometime soon?” Noelle asked Lissa. “Lunch would definitely not be enough time. How about a play date with—let’s say all nine of us? Patrick would love this!”
“Don’t gossip, Noelle, and you can all come over for dinner at our house. What do you think, lovers? You wanted to meet more of my friends.”
“How about Friday?” Melody suggested. “I’ll fix that Greek thing I’ve wanted to try. You need a big group for that.”
“Okay!” Noelle said. She made a motion as if locking her lips. “Not a word until then. But I am dying here.”
“Thank you, dear,” Lissa said. She kissed Noelle on the cheek. Melody and I followed suit, offering our thanks as well.
We found Kate in the blow-up bouncy tent with three adoring boys and a little girl jumping up and down all around her. When she saw us looking in the plastic windows she waved, said something to her playmates, and did a forward roll out the exit. She landed on her butt at our feet with a wild expression on her face, raised her hands in the air, and shook her head.
“Aaaaah!” she screamed.
We helped her up and each planted a kiss on her cheek.
“How’d you get roped into the bouncy tent?” Lissa laughed.
“Little Carmen,” Kate responded. “She didn’t want to go in with only boys inside. So…”
“But she’s still in!” Lissa said.
“She wouldn’t come out when I said I was leaving. She said that if the boys didn’t like her, they could leave. But I don’t think they are.”
“Still…” Lissa hesitated. “I’m always concerned that someone is going to get ganged up on. It’s so silly, but I worry.”
“I’m going!” Melody said. Her shoes were off in no time and she was inside the tent. I think she was just waiting for an excuse.
We were all wearing shorts as the day was an incredibly clear and hot day for Seattle. Kate, I noted, was in cut-offs, showing her shapely legs; but she had cut-off one of her standard school-wear bib overalls with just a t-shirt under it. I thought it was just me, at first, but one glance at Lissa told me her mouth was watering, too.
“I’ve never been to a Zoo concert,” Lissa said. “What do we wear?”
“This is Seattle,” Kate said. “Pretty much nobody wears anything but cargo shorts and Doc Martens. It’s a picnic.”
“Fun!” I said. I had visions of the kinds of picnics we had in Nebraska with grills going all over the park and everybody sampling everyone else’s potato salad. “What shall we bring.”
“Nope!” Kate said. “I’m packing everything. Oh. Except we will need a couple of blankets to sit on. You can bring that. The only thing I’ve got is what’s on my bed in the dorm.”
“Blankets. Check,” I said.
“Oh… there is one other little thing,” Kate said.
“We’ll help pay for the tickets and food and everything,” Lissa said.
“No way! I asked you out on a date and I’m taking care of it.”
“What else can we do, then?” I asked.
“Um… Could you drive? I don’t think I could get the picnic on the bus all alone.”
“Of course, I’ll drive,” I said.
“Jack’s going to have the boys again starting Friday night,” Lissa said. “There’ll be plenty of room.”
“It’s a good thing. I don’t think Dad was thinking of this when he gave me that car.”
“There is something else, though,” Lissa said. She put her arm around Kate’s shoulders and turned her away from me, but she spoke loudly enough that I could hear. “I understand the importance of a first date and doing things the way you’ve always imagined. I wish I’d done that and I’m thrilled that we’re going out with you, Kitten. But after this date, we have to figure out a way to split expenses. It isn’t fair for you to pay to date three people when three people are splitting the expenses to date one. Next date, we’ll have to work out a system.”
“Hmm,” Kate said. She looked over her shoulder at me and winked. “I think we’d better see how the first date goes before we decide there’s a next one.”
Lissa gasped, but I just about choked laughing. Kate had a wicked sense of humor when she was comfortable with people. I just loved her.
Four little balls of energy stumbled out of the bouncy tent and staggered toward the potato chips. One of the boys called, “Come on Carmen. Let’s play hide-and-seek.” Wow! And they’re only seven! Melody rolled out last and lay sprawled on her back.
“I want seven-year-old energy!” she panted. “I’m a teenaged college student. They shouldn’t be able to wear me out.”
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