The Prodigal
Part I
One
“I’VE BEEN LED TO BELIEVE that you have created works so far beyond what is on display here that we won’t see them for twenty years,” Bob Bowers said as we toured around gallery.
Geez! What does the man want? I’d just completed a massive outdoor mural painting at SCU and the 8x4-foot rendering was sitting in the middle of the gallery with a $15,000 reserve bid on it. It was the night before Kate’s and my first gallery opening and we were previewing it with family and friends. But Bob Bowers was the art critic who almost single-handedly launched my career. I was still exhausted, but I owed the guy big-time. I took a deep breath.
“Oh, I’ve got some things that will be coming out before that,” I said. “That piece titled Pet? It’s part of a work that’s as big as the mural rendering and will be the center of my next exhibition.” I was damned proud of the painting I’d done of Amy, Sonia, and Rio and managed to get it in the catalogue for this show.
“And you, Katarina,” Bob continued as he turned to Kate, “have an amazing hand. I wouldn’t be surprised if that painting of the jeweler’s hands brought in more than any of Tony’s paintings. It’s stunning. Who is the model?”
“My mother,” Kate said. “She’s right over there. She’d be happy to tell you all about what she’s doing in the painting.” It wasn’t the same piece as the one that was over Gypsy’s mantel, but Kate had done another piece featuring her mother in her workshop that was more than stunning. The love and care that Gypsy was taking in pounding out a silver choker was matched by the love and care Kate had taken in painting it.
“Two youngsters have burst on the Seattle art scene with the impact of Kurt Cobain on Seattle music. If you miss this exhibition, you miss the future of Seattle art,” Mom read from the newspaper on Friday morning. Bob Bowers’s review of our opening was filled with accolades. It included the history of our work back to the Rhapsody Suite and my mural at PCAD last year. The opening tonight would be by invitation only. The public would be held outside the gallery and admitted just one or two at a time as invited guests left.
“I’m going back to bed now,” I said. “Wake me tomorrow morning when it’s all over, ’kay?” I left the room. I really did want to sleep through the whole thing. I remember how excited I was last July when I talked to Clarice about it the first time. It had been almost a year and so much had happened that I didn’t care anymore. I wanted to hide my head under the covers and just sleep through it.
“Lover? Nap time is over, sweetie.” I opened my eyes slowly. I was sandwiched between Melody and Lissa. What a nice way to wake up.
“Where’s Kate?” I asked.
“She’s down with Wendy. I think she feels the same way you do. I don’t know if it was a good idea to have you sharing a debut exhibition,” Lissa said. “I hope she doesn’t feel like she’s second fiddle.”
“Oh geez, no!” I moaned. “I’d never have even finished the wall if it wasn’t for Kate. I need to go to her.”
“Here,” Melody said. “Take your clothes with you. You can dress together and commiserate.”
I went to Wendy’s room and knocked. Wendy came to the door and looked to see who it was before she opened the door fully. She gave me a relieved smile. Kate was sitting in her panties, staring at the mirror. Wendy pushed me toward her.
“Hey, Kitten,” I said. “Want to run away to Tahiti with me?”
“Yes please,” she sighed, leaning back against me. “Can we take our lovers with us and hide out down there for a few years?”
“Sounds like a dream come true.” I leaned over and kissed the top of her head, massaging her shoulders. She touched my hands and pulled them down her front until I’d cupped her breasts. She sighed.
“I still remember the first time,” she said, leaning back against me.
“I will never forget, but you can always remind me.” We looked at each other’s eyes in the mirror. “What are you wearing tonight, love?”
“I thought I’d toss on a T-shirt and my bib overalls,” Kate said.
“Going to call maximum attention to yourself, huh?”
“Oh. I didn’t think about that. Maybe the trio would all dress the same. I should wear the dress that Melody made for me. Help me put it on?” I picked the purple cocktail dress up from the bed and held it.
“This looks familiar.”
“She used the dress I wore to the party last spring as a pattern” Kate said. “She’s so sweet.” I zipped up the back of the silky dress then kissed her bare shoulder. “I can’t wait for you to take it off of me.” I turned to kiss her—so soft and sweet and gentle.
After the dedication of the wall and the accolades that accompanied it, the gallery opening was anticlimactic. Poor Tony. I got glad-handed and Clarice took inquiries for both Kate and me to do various commissions. My oils and acrylics were drawing higher bids than Kate’s charcoals and pastels, but her oils were creating a real stir. We’ve got such different styles that there wasn’t much crossover between the people who wanted her paintings and the people who wanted mine.
They had priced things differently than what I thought was going to happen. Clarice and I had talked about the value of our paintings and placed them in the two-to-five thousand range, depending on the medium, size, and subject. My two commissioned portraits had been done for between twenty-five hundred and three thousand, so I figured that would be a good expectation. The Gallery had set “reserve bids.” If a patron wanted to buy a piece, she had to make an offer that was at least as high as the reserve bid. If another patron offered more, then there was an auction. The auction was held in the gallery director’s office and I saw a steady stream of people going in. Occasionally a gallery runner would come out and place a “sold” tag next to a painting.
“I’m Neil Stedman,” a guy introduced himself, shaking our hands. I thought he spent too long holding on to Kate, but she didn’t seem to mind. He was about six-two with movie star good looks and I hated him already. “I’m a promoter from New York. I’d like to represent you two and get you some bigger events.”
“We have an agent,” I said.
“That’s great for the Seattle market if this is where you want to stay,” Neil said. “It’s obvious that you don’t understand how the larger art world works, so we should talk. We could get you into one of the big houses in New York with exclusive representation. I’ll be in town over the weekend, so why don’t we get together tomorrow.”
“Thank you,” Kate said, taking his card. I took the card and shoved it in my pocket without looking at it.
“What’s your number, Katarina?” he asked. Before I could stop her, she’d rattled it off. He flipped open an iPhone and entered it. “Tony?” he asked. I quickly gave him Clarice’s number. I was looking around frantically and caught Lissa’s eye. She swooped in to the rescue.
“You need to hydrate, lovers,” she said stepping between Kate and Neil. “There are a hundred more people who want to say hi to you.”
“Was he for real?” Kate asked as we snuggled into bed. We’d opted to all join together on the mattresses in the big bedroom. Kate, Lissa, Melody, and I were on the big bed, and to my surprise, our entourage, including Beth and Allison, were all snuggled up together on the mattress on the floor. It was almost like our adventure in Nebraska at Christmas.
“Guys like that are predators,” Lissa said. “Jack and I encountered them all the time when I was modeling. They call themselves promoters, agents, representatives, publicists, and anything else that will get them your business or into your panties. Let Clarice handle him.”
“I wish I hadn’t given him my number,” Kate said. Our phones both rang. Before Kate could answer, Melody hit reject. I answered mine and Clarice started in the middle of a sentence, as usual.
“Target was exceeded. And don’t talk to the fake rep from New York. I’ve already had him run and he has a reputation. So here are the numbers,” she said. I switched her to speaker phone. “All but three pieces are sold. That’s three pieces between the two of you. Since the only offers were under the reserve bid, they will still be for sale at the agreed prices at the gallery. Congratulations, you two.”
“Wow! Thanks, Clarice,” Kate said.
“That’s great news,” I said.
“I know you have me on speaker phone. Do you want the net broadcast to the room?” she asked.
“Um… We’ll probably tell everyone, but why don’t you text us the number and we’ll let people know, okay?” I said.
“Sure, Tony. It’s on its way. I just want to say congratulations again. You are on your way to great things. Now get back to your… whoever is with you… and enjoy yourselves.” Clarice hung up and both Kate’s and my phones buzzed with text messages. We looked at the messages and then up at each other. I know our mouths were wide open.
“Tony? Does yours say the same as mine?” Kate squeaked. We traded phones. Kate’s phone rang again and I rejected the call from the New York number. This was going to be a real pain. But the numbers in our text messages were the same.
“Well?” Melody asked.
“I think we’re finally able to contribute to the household income with something other than our scholarship housing allowances,” I said. We handed our phones to Melody and Lissa and they looked at the numbers. Melody can dance and squeal even when she’s in bed.
“Are you going to share any of that with the party on the floor?”
Kate’s phone rang again and I saw Melody reject the call then do something else on Kate’s phone with a determined grin on her face. She handed the phone back to Kate and just said, “There. Blocked him.”
“Well, there’s information that concerns you, Bree,” I said. “You might even want to contact Eric and the rest of the committee.”
“What?”
“An anonymous donor bought the rendering for the mural and donated it to Seattle Art Museum,” I said. “You know the proceeds from that sale don’t generate a commission for either Clarice or the gallery. It all goes to the homeless fund.”
“Wonderful!” Bree shouted.
“Yeah,” I answered. “He paid $50,000.”
There was silence in the room for all of three seconds before everyone piled onto the big bed, jumping, screaming, kissing, and… Whoa! Doing a lot of other things. Kate and I were at the bottom of a lot of loving. I don’t know how we managed it, but I think all ten of us spent the night in the not-so-big-anymore bed.
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