Status and success—it made people do crazy things.
Like entering art contests without their husband’s knowledge?
She pushed the convicting thought aside. Besides, she hadn’t entered to achieve status, to be able to flaunt her success to the world. She’d done it for their gallery. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. If she won, the exposure would be invaluable for Peterson Galleries.
Tired from the long day and the unresolved turmoil between her and Brody, Madison stepped through the front door. She leaned the protected canvas against the wall beside the entrance then fell into her father’s embrace.
“Daddy, thanks for sending a car to fetch us.” Even though he could be a stuck-up, stick-in-the-mud at times, she’d always felt safe in her father’s arms.
Her heart constricted. She’d always felt safe in Brody’s arms too.
Until now.
“Madison...” Father gave her a tight squeeze then opened one arm to pull Charity into the hug. “Charity... It’s so good to see you girls again, although I must admit that your call earlier this afternoon was rather a surprise. I’m intrigued to hear what has so suddenly brought you both to our part of the world for a week.”
“I’ll fill you in once Mother is with us,” Madison said.
Father’s thick, gray brows quirked. “I’m afraid that’ll only be in the morning. Your mother asked me to offer her apologies that she’s not here to greet you. She needed to retire early. But she said to tell you that she would see you at breakfast. She had a very busy afternoon today at a fundraiser, and mid-morning tomorrow she has another charity event which she must attend. I believe there’s one more at the end of the week, so it seems you won’t see that much of her.” Father chuckled, his gaze drifting to the wrapped painting against the wall. His mouth curved in a smile. “A gift for your mother and me?”
Madison shook her head. “Not this time, Daddy. I’ll explain later.”
She turned to the driver. “Liam, you can leave our bags just inside the door. I’ll get them upstairs in a little while.”
Tiny lines furrowed Liam’s forehead. “I would never think of leaving you to lug these heavy suitcases upstairs, Mrs. Peterson.”
He turned to his employer. “Sir, with your permission…” His gaze traveled up the ornate staircase.
“Of course, William. Just place the suitcases against the wall on the landing. My daughter and granddaughter are quite capable of wheeling their luggage from there.”
Tipping his head, Liam wrapped his fingers around Madison’s suitcase and her smaller carry-on bag—one piece of luggage in each hand. He glanced at her. “I’ll be down in a minute to get your daughter’s bags.”
With a nod, Father ushered Madison and Charity toward the kitchen. “Are you girls hungry?”
Madison shook her head. “We had a rather substantial lunch at Sandy’s house. And then a snack on the plane. Besides, Daddy, it’ll soon be midnight. Time for bed, I’d say.”
Pausing in his stride, father grinned as he splayed his palms toward the ceiling. “And that is why I like to travel in the company jet. It’s faster, and you don’t have to get home at a ridiculous hour. You really should’ve called me this morning, Madison. I could have had my pilot fly to Emporia to fetch you.”
Madison rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Dad. That’s totally unnecessary and far too extravagant.” It might be fine for her parents, but she didn’t have a problem flying with a commercial airline.
Charity gripped Madison’s arm. “What? Mom… Next time, take Grandpa up on his offer. That would certainly beat flying coach.”
“Goodnight, Sir,” Liam called from the large hallway.
They all turned to acknowledge him.
“Goodnight, Liam.”
“Goodnight, William.” Her father’s voice lagged behind hers and Charity’s, his sentence a syllable longer.
Once again, the charming chauffeur tipped his cap. “Mrs. Peterson…Charity… Have a pleasant stay, although I’m sure we’ll cross paths again before I return you to the airport next Monday.”
The front door clicked as he exited.
“He seems very nice,” Madison said. “Way younger than the last chauffeur you had, though. How long has he been working for you?”
“William?” Her father’s brow furrowed.
No, Dad. The man in the moon. Of course your chauffeur.
“He’s been with me for about a year now. A very pleasant fellow indeed.”
Father pointed toward the kitchen. “Are you sure I can’t get you something to eat, or drink. And where is Brody? Why didn’t he travel to New York with you?”
“Who would look after the gallery, Daddy?” Not wanting to get into a discussion about Brody right now, Madison deflected the conversation from her husband. “Dad, I’d love to sit and chat over a coffee, but right now, Charity and I are both really tired. It’s been a long day. We can talk further over breakfast, okay?”
She kissed her father’s cheek then lightly grasped Charity’s elbow. “Come along, sweetheart.”
Charity nodded and pecked her grandfather’s cheek. She took a step to follow Madison then paused. “Grandpa, will you show me around the house tomorrow morning? This place is awesome, and way bigger than the one I visited last time.”
Lips parting, her father smiled. “It would be my pleasure. But it’ll have to be early, before breakfast. William picks me up around seven fifteen to take me to the office, so I’ll meet you in the kitchen bright and breezy?”
Charity’s head gave a slight bob. “Six thirty?”
Father’s shoulders shook with his chuckle. “Only if you want me to miss breakfast. Rather make it five thirty. This house is a lot bigger than it might look.”
Charity grinned. “Deal.”
Madison’s brows drew together. “Sweetheart, that doesn’t give you much time for sleep tonight.”
“It’s all right, Mom. Sleep’s overrated anyway. Besides, I can always catch a powernap in the afternoon, or go to bed early tomorrow night. I’m itching to explore this house.”
Madison blew out a sigh, too exhausted to argue. Seemed she couldn’t win with anyone these days. Not her mother or her father. Not her husband. Not even her teenage daughter.
Chapter Thirteen
THREE DAYS was all it had taken for Madison to be relieved at moving to their five-star hotel in Manhattan for two nights. Charity felt the same way she was sure, although her daughter didn’t say as much. Sometimes, Charity was just too polite—especially when it came to her grandparents.
Madison zipped her overnight bag shut then wrapped her fingers around the handle. With her other hand, she hefted the well-protected canvas underneath her arm and headed for her bedroom door. Of course, not hearing from Brody all week—he’d even been silent with Charity—compounded by her mother’s perpetual caustic remarks about how Brody should be at the exhibition and ceremony tomorrow night, not only to show his support, but the gallery’s too, hadn’t helped warm Madison to any ideas of staying home for the weekend as well. As far as Mother was concerned, Brody’s assistant should be quite capable of handling business at the gallery for a few days.
As Madison headed downstairs, her mother’s voice surfaced in her memory.
“Don’t worry, Madison dear. The moment you told us about your win for Kansas, I immediately cleared our calendars and pulled some strings to get seats at one of the tables for your father and me on Saturday night. They did not come cheaply, but anything to support our girl.”
Madison and Charity’s one saving grace for tomorrow night was that, according to Rob, the fifty finalists and their plus ones were placed together at tables of ten. This meant that her parents could be seated anywhere but at the ten VIP tables. Knowing her mother though, anything was possible. It wouldn’t surprise Madison in the least if the great Virginia Harding-Forbes managed to secure a seat right beside Ellie Sanders.
Charity already waited at the front door, dressed in
jeans, sneakers, and a soft, sleeveless chiffon shirt.
Madison perched her bag next to her daughter’s, and then set the box down against the wall. Shouldn’t be too long before Liam arrived in the sleek, silver sedan. She glanced around the spacious hallway, ears pricked for the sound of high-heeled shoes.
Nothing.
She turned to Charity. “I guess I’ll have to go and find your grandmother so that we can say goodbye. She’ll never forgive me if I don’t, even though we’ll see her and your grandfather tomorrow night.” Not to mention being back in this house on Sunday morning.
The click-clack of heels against the tiled floor echoed through the house.
“She’s coming,” Charity whispered.
Their heads snapped to the right as Madison’s mother rounded a corner and headed toward them.
At the same time, a knock sounded at the front door. Must be Liam.
“You get the door,” Madison told Charity. “I’ll deal with your grandmother.” She pivoted and closed the distance to her mother who had paused beside a nearby console table to primp the flowers in a vase.
Mother turned to Madison. “I’m sorry to keep you girls waiting. I had some last minute details to attend to for the charity event at one. But by the look of things, it seems my timing is perfect.” She gazed past Madison. “William, once you’ve dropped my daughter and granddaughter at their hotel, please hasten back. I need to be at the Grand Hyatt in Midtown Manhattan by midday.”
Why her mother couldn’t just drive with them now was beyond Madison. The Grand Hyatt wasn’t far from their hotel. But heaven forbid Mother should arrive anywhere early—that was as bad as arriving late according to her mother. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t while away the time shopping, or drinking coffee at some trendy Manhattan coffee shop, or just hanging out with her and Charity.
And she wouldn’t hear a thing about Madison and Charity going in a little later with her.
“Lose all that time in the car to go over my speech because the two of you won’t be able to remain quiet for that long? No thank you. William can make the additional trip.”
So the chauffeur would need to drive back and forth between Staten Island and Manhattan because what Mother wanted, she got.
With everything.
Madison glanced at the box containing her canvas. Well, almost everything.
If it wasn’t for that package being rather cumbersome, Madison would’ve just clambered on a bus into the city with Charity.
If only Brody was here with them. He knew how to stand up to her parents. He would’ve insisted her father loan them one of his many cars for the weekend and driven them around himself. Madison steered clear of driving in this busy city. She was used to Kansas life, especially Cottonwood Falls, where the roads weren’t bustling with cars like ants on a log drizzled with raw honey.
Her heart squeezed as she planted a peck on her mother’s cheek. She missed her husband terribly. Was this contest worth this heartache? Maybe she should just reroute Liam to Newark Airport and be done with all of this.
Charity hugged her grandmother. “Thank you for everything. Especially for having my laundry done daily.”
Mother cracked a smile. “Well, darling, I do have to keep the maids busy.”
As if this house wasn’t big enough to keep the staff working from morning till evening.
“At least if we get home and my dad kicks us out, I’ll have a suitcase bursting with clean clothes.”
Groan. Why would Charity go and say something like that? Especially to her mother!
“Kick you out? Why on earth would your father do something like that?” Mother’s gaze snapped to Madison. “What's going on, Madison?”
Madison drew in a deep breath, exhaling her words. “Nothing, Mother.”
“Don’t you nothing me, young lady. Are you two having problems? Is that why you’re here without your husband?”
Like an answer to prayer, Madison’s phone rang. She retrieved it from her handbag.
Robert Morris? Why would he be calling her now?
“I’m sorry, Mother. I need to take this. We can talk further on Sunday.” Hopefully her mother would get the hint that this discussion was closed for now. Madison answered the call. “Rob. Good morning.”
Rob’s voice boomed through the phone. “Maddie. Morning. Are you ready and excited for tomorrow?”
“Yes. Of course,” she said, even though only moments ago she’d been considering walking away from everything. “We were actually about to leave my parents’ house. Thanks so much for arranging that early check-in.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Rob said. “If it’s okay with you, could I meet you at the hotel as soon as you’ve checked in? I’d like to take you, Charity, and the Girl in a Field down to the exhibition hall. I just got off the phone with Ellie, and she wants to see your exhibit ASAP. I think she has a prime spot in mind for her home state piece.”
What? “O–of course. Meet us in the lobby around ten.” Madison hung up.
“Madison…,” Mother started.
What now? Was she going to press Madison again for information?
“Mom, I said Sunday. Charity and I need to go. Now! We’re meeting the contest organizer in an hour and we still need to check into our hotel.”
As she walked out of her parent’s home and slid into the back seat of her father’s car, excitement welled in Madison’s breast, washing away any thoughts of giving up and returning home.
Madison was certain that Robert Morris had contacted the hotel after his earlier call to her, because their check-in had been smooth, effortless, and speedy.
She gazed at Charity with pride. “You look so beautiful, honey.”
Charity huffed. “Really, Mom, do I have to wear this dress? Going around the city would be far easier and way more comfortable in the jeans and sneakers I was wearing.”
Madison lifted a lock of Charity’s hair and trailed her fingers down the thick strawberry-blond curl. “Please, Charity honey, humor me this once. I think it will make a huge impression on Ellie Sanders to see the real life Girl in a Field beside the immortalized canvas one.”
“All right... But I’m taking the clothes I had on earlier with me and changing the moment I can.” Charity flounced over to the bed and began stuffing her jeans, sneakers, and blouse into her backpack.
The clock marching closer to ten, Madison hurried Charity out of their hotel room with one hand while clasping the rectangular box tightly under her other arm.
The moment they strolled into the hotel lobby, a tall, slender, forty-something man dressed in a stylish gray suit rushed toward them. Streaks of silver highlighted the hairline of his darker head—the result of working for a highly talented visionary artist and connoisseur?
He stuck out his hand in greeting. “Maddie… It’s so good to finally meet you.”
It had been easy for Robert Morris to recognize them thanks to Charity’s dress and the large box with its red and white warning labels tucked under Madison’s arm. Then of course, there was that headshot Madison had emailed to Rob last Friday.
He shifted his focus. “And you must be Charity.”
Charity smiled as she shook Rob’s hand. “Or Girl in a Field, if you prefer.”
Rob chuckled. “Not only beautiful, she’s sassy too. Although that didn’t come across in your mother’s painting which exudes innocence.” He relieved Madison of the unwieldy box. “Shall we go?”
Madison nodded eagerly, and Rob led the way to the door.
“Do you mind walking to 30 Rockefeller Plaza?” he asked. “It’s only a few blocks from here.”
Madison tipped her head in agreement. “Of course not. The walk will be great, if you’re up to carrying that large parcel all the way.”
Rob returned her smile. “At least it’s light.”
As they wove between pedestrians congesting the sidewalks, Charity was as fascinated with the bustle of yellow cabs as she had been the last time they were in New York
. The hum of chatter mingled with the rumble of traffic filled the air.
Madison inhaled the scents of brewed java from a nearby coffee shop, nuts roasting at a nearby pretzel cart, and the smell of dough from a bagel shop they’d just passed.
Inside 30 Rockefeller Plaza, they took the elevator to the 65th floor. Madison’s heart hammered in her throat as she and Charity followed Rob to The Gallery. Just beyond that lay the Rainbow Room where the gala event would take place tomorrow night.
As they stepped inside The Gallery, white plinths of varying heights and widths greeted them. Workers milled about between the columns, frantically getting everything ready for the arty event.
Madison gasped. “Wow!” She really shouldn’t have been surprised that everything looked so elegant, even though none of the artworks had arrived yet. They were inside 30 Rockefeller Plaza, a place of timeless opulence.
Her pulse raced. She was about to meet Ellie Sanders…in the living flesh.
Rob pointed to the structures with his free hand. “There are twelve vertical rows of four spanning the length of the room with a single plinth on either end positioned in the center of the four horizontal rows.”
Charity focused her gaze on Rob. “Why are some higher than me, while others would barely reach my knees?”
“There are artworks in various mediums and sizes that will be exhibited tomorrow,” Rob explained. “That’s why some are wider than others, some are square, and others are rectangular. Soon there’ll be sculptures, wood carvings, and glassworks on display on those lower stands. The taller, rectangular ones will house paintings like your mother’s.”
“You mean mine?” Charity poked her index finger against her chest.
Reclaiming Charity Page 11