The Prodigal
Forty-three
“IF I DO THIS AS A COMMISSION, I won’t have anything to sell. All my work will be attached to the walls of the chapel,” I said.
“Are you having second thoughts about being able to complete it?”
“It’s not that,” I said. “Well… maybe a little. I never expected anyone to take the whole project and say I had nine months to paint forty panels. But, I’m more concerned with what my agent has to say about me not producing anything salable in that time.”
“We need to worry about that. You did a good job last spring getting your two new suites completed, and we haven’t released all the Bacchanalia paintings. We still have prints from your first exhibition, and both the prints and posters for Allison’s show are selling well.”
“But at the end there will be nothing.”
“Not so. At the end there will be limited edition prints of the frescoes that we’ll sell, posters, and the book. We might create branded collateral materials. The Jesuits are enterprising. I wouldn’t put it past them to put a gift store in the entry that sold posters, postcards, and bobbleheads. There will be lots of salable material available,” Clarice said. “This is a great opportunity, Tony. You should take it.”
“Bobbleheads?” I croaked. “Now it sounds even more commercial than my other stuff. Okay, I guess,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.
“I need to go back inside. Relax with Bob for a few minutes.”
“I feel like I only know half of what’s going on,” I said to Bob. I feel overwhelmed—terrified—in shock.
“I doubt you know that much,” Bob laughed. “Let’s just say that you happened along just at the moment there was about to be a minor religious war break out between the local branch of the Society of Jesus and the Vatican. Not the first time the religious have been at odds with the hierarchy. These brothers have as much to lose as you have to gain.”
“What else are they discussing in there?” I asked.
“I think you’re about to find out,” Bob said as the door opened. We were ushered back inside as Kate, Doc, and Clarice came out. She had the same shell-shocked look on her face that I was sure was on mine. She grabbed my hand and squeezed hard enough to hurt. Ten minutes later, everyone had gathered back in the room and I was signing away the next nine months of my life.
“Tony, will you accept the commission to paint forty panels and provide a story for each for the Chapel of St. Jerome?” President Haywood asked when we were seated.
“Yes, sir,” I responded simply. “As long as my art is not questioned.”
“I think we have an agreement in principle and can work out the details with your agent. Father Andrew will be your guide and sounding board in the stories and funding will be provided for your work. As we understand that this cuts into your income as an artist, there will be a grant for your living expenses and necessities while you are working on the chapel,” Father Michel said. He seemed pleased with himself.
“Now, Ms. Holsinger—or should we address you as Ms. Mirela?—you’ve had an opportunity to go over the agreement with your agent,” President Haywood said. Huh? “Are you prepared to take this commission?” What commission?
“I am, sir,” Kate said softly. “I’ve been assured by Doctor Henredon that PCAD will supply the necessary student resources for me to complete the work. My agent has indicated that the stipend is fair.”
“Then we will be pleased to work with you, as well,” Father Michel beamed. “Father Andrew has his work cut out for him as the art advisor for the Chapel of St. Jerome this year. I have begun to see our chapel in my mind’s eye already. The Father Provincial will be pleased.” He stood to leave and the meeting broke up.
“Let’s go to Carmine’s. I know neither of you have eaten this evening. Call your wives and let’s relax,” Clarice said.
I sent a quick text home to Melody, Lissa, and Wendy that said, “Overwhelmed. Please meet us at Carmine’s. I think we’re celebrating.” Wendy responded immediately that she had a table for us. I forgot she was working. Melody and Lissa said they’d meet us there.
“So, what just happened?” I asked Kate as we drove over to the restaurant. “What did they just commission you to do?”
“Oh, God! Those quotes Clarice had me sketching? They’re the fourteen Stations of the Cross. They just commissioned me to do them and PCAD will support me with student volunteers.”
“That’s cool! Do you know how to do frescoes?”
“I’m not doing fresco. I’m doing mosaics. The ceramics department already proposed doing the stations, but needed designs. I have to create the paintings that will be the model for the mosaics.” I reached over and took Kate’s hand after I’d parked.
“It’s so good to have you back.”
“I’ll earn your trust, Tony. I promise.”
“I trust you.”
“But I haven’t shown myself trustworthy. I’m so glad we will be working on the same space.”
“Father Andrew…”
“Please just call me Andy, Tony.”
“Andy, I’d like to introduce you to Melody and Lissa Ames.”
“How nice to meet you. Are you Tony’s sisters?” Oops.
“No, we’re not religious,” Melody quipped. Sisters? “We’re married.” She kissed Lissa.
“Oh. Congratulations. No matter what the law says, we are still restricted from performing such marriages. One day, though, even the Church will catch up. It was your last names that threw me,” Andy said.
“We are all part of the same household,” I explained. “Melody, Lissa, Wendy, Kate, and I share our home and our lives with each other to one extent or another. This is Wendy Martin, who in addition to her many other talents will be our server this evening.”
“You know, I can’t wait to start going over your lessons with you,” Andy laughed. I think I’m gonna like him.
My opening in Las Vegas was at a gallery in the 18b Arts District downtown on Wednesday the ninth. Apparently, the Arts District functions Wednesday through Saturday and no one bothers to come there on Sunday, Monday, or Tuesday. There are a lot of wealthy patrons who attend openings as well as spouses of people who come to gamble.
That meant that about ninety percent of the attendees were women.
Clarice was displaying eight of my paintings from Bacchanalia, plus the masterpiece, fifteen prints, Delectable Morsels, and two paintings from Cherokee Nation. Though everyone was “dressed up,” it was a way more casual affair than New York. I dressed in my leathers and was accompanied by Kate and Wendy. Most of the women attending were dressed in a lot less… er… less formally. That’s what I meant. Right.
We stayed at a downtown hotel and walked under the Fremont Street Experience to watch the entertainment on the huge arched screen overhead. We walked through a couple of casinos, but we didn’t stop anyplace or play anything. Kate was still just twenty and even though no one stopped us, we were too nervous to tempt fate.
That didn’t stop Wendy and Kate from dragging me into a ‘gentlemen’s club.’ They let the ladies in free, but I had to pay twenty bucks. We sat and watched half a dozen girls take their clothes off while they strutted down a runway pretending to move to the music. I couldn’t call it dancing. One of them stopped at our table.
“Hi. I’m Candy. Would you like a dance?”
“I… uh… don’t see a dance floor.”
“You stay seated and I dance on your lap. Real close and personal.”
“No thanks. I have all the girls I want.”
“How about a dance for them. I do girls for half-price. What do you think, baby?” she asked, bending over Kate and pushing her tits right in her face. “Would you like me to rub these against yours? We can let him watch.”
“Take your tits off my girlfriend, bitch,” Wendy growled. “If anybody’s gonna bite your bits it’s me.”
“Oh shit, mistress. I’m sorry. I mistook you for a subby. I didn’t realize she was your pet. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” Candy said. She practically fell over the table in her hurry to get from Kate on one side of me to Wendy on the other. By the time she got there, her top was already down around her waist. I glanced at Kate and her eyes were wide open as she stared. Candy pushed a nipple straight at Wendy.
“Go ahead and bite it, mistress. I didn’t mean to step in your territory.” I was shocked when Wendy bit the girl’s nipple. I think she was, too. Wendy shoved a twenty-dollar bill into the girl’s waistband.
“You’re forgiven. But I’m still taking my toys and going home,” Wendy said as her hand trailed down the dancer’s waist, across her sex, and down her leg.
“Do you want me to get dressed and come with you, Mistress?” Candy whispered.
“That’s sweet, but I’ll take it from here. You have a nice night.”
Wendy pulled Kate and me to our feet and practically dragged us out of the club and to our hotel. We’d made it to the elevator before Wendy started giggling hysterically. Kate was caught up in it in a minute, and I couldn’t help but start laughing, too.
As soon as we’d opened the door of our two-bedroom suite, Wendy disappeared into the bathroom. Kate looked at me a little shyly and came into my arms when I offered them to her. She kissed me and I felt a longing I hadn’t felt since our early courting days. It was sweet and tentative. She pulled away from me when Wendy came back in.
“Minty fresh,” Kate laughed.
“Had to wash my mouth out quick,” Wendy said. “When I bit her nipple, I think I kissed every man in that dive.”
“Ew, yuck.”
“Well, I think I’ll brush up, too,” I said. “There’s only two people I’m interested in kissing.”
“Are you sure?” Wendy asked. “I could go back and get her. I’m sure she wouldn’t be bad if we scrubbed her first.”
“You two have fun,” Kate said. “I’m bushed and going to bed.” She slipped through the door to her bedroom and Wendy and I watched the door, willing it to reopen and Kate to return.
The Tiger vanished as soon Kate did. Wendy sank to her knees.
“I’m sorry, master. That didn’t work as well as I hoped.” I pulled her back up into my arms.
“You did well, Tiger. But I need you to be Wendy tonight. Please make love to me. I want to feel how much you love us.”
We undressed and I brushed my teeth. Wendy was in the bed holding her arms out to me and I fell lovingly into them. Sometimes I think Wendy has multiple personalities and I love them all. Wendy the sub can come just from being vulnerable and waiting for me. Wendy the Tiger can dominate anyone in our household and wrench more orgasms from me than I think possible. Sometimes I make love to Wendy, the woman who loves me and partners with me. She loves to have her neck kissed and pulls her hair back with one hand so I can kiss behind her ear. She returns my kisses. We take a long time before I slide into her and we whisper together. We rise slowly to satisfaction. Not earthshaking, cataclysmic orgasms, but often long, extended quakes that leave us peaceful, satisfied, and ready to curl up together in sleep.
Just as we were dozing off, wrapped in each other’s arms, we heard the unmistakable whine of Kate rising to orgasm in the next room.
“Perhaps it worked better than you thought,” I chuckled. We listened until we could no longer hear Kate’s plaintive moan.
“Are you mad at me, Tony?” Kate asked from the seat next to me as I drove us across the state toward Spokane. There was enough conversation among Wendy, Lissa, and Melody in the back seat that our quiet conversation went unnoticed.
“Of course not, Kate. I promised right off that I wouldn’t pressure you.” The past two weeks since returning from Las Vegas had been better than anything since Kate got back to town. We’d spent a lot of time together in the studio while she worked on the new material for her show and I struggled to make a table of contents of lessons I’d learned. I couldn’t think of any reason recently that Kate might think I was mad. It was good we were taking time. It gave us more opportunity to heal. I still ached inside.
“Oh. I wasn’t thinking of that. You are both being patient. Why aren’t you as petty as I am? I’d be mad if you announced an exhibit in Spokane next to mine. I wouldn’t want to compete. But I didn’t ask how you’d feel about it before I agreed to the chapel. I should have.”
“You didn’t have much time think of all the ramifications. Clarice had it decided for you.”
“I’m trying to be a good girl. I might not have hurt Clarice as much as I hurt you, but I hurt her. I wanted to show her I trusted her. And I thought it would be cool if we both had something in the same space we were proud of. It would be like a symbol that we were… together.”
I laughed. Wendy looked up at me from the back seat and gave me an air kiss that I could see in the mirror.
“You’re beginning to sound like me. I might have had a flash of jealousy when I first heard. I thought you’d be doing frescoes and people would always be comparing us. But mosaics? We’re in the same space, but we aren’t in the same medium or in the same subject matter. And frankly, I wouldn’t want your subject matter. It would be hard to paint nudes for the Stations of the Cross. So, I guess it is like we are two different people, two different artists, on display in the same space. A permanent exhibition of our art together. I’m pleased.”
“I worry so much, Tony. I worry that I’ll fuck things up again.”
“Relax, Kate. We’ll work out whatever we need to.”
“Are you really going to paint nudes in the church?”
“It’s a time-honored tradition,” I laughed.
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