Under a Summer Sky--A Savannah Romance

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Under a Summer Sky--A Savannah Romance Page 2

by Melody Carlson


  “Kate Hudson?”

  “Yes. That’s just what Vivian said.”

  Nicole smiled with amusement. It wasn’t the first time someone had made that comment. It was a nice compliment, even if it was a stretch.

  “I sent her a picture of some of your art too.”

  “What art?”

  “The landscape in Dad’s study and that still life you gave me for Mother’s Day.”

  Nicole cringed. She knew it was cliché, but her mom loved teapots and roses. Her hope had been that no one outside of the family would ever lay eyes on it.

  “Viv thought you were very talented, and she wants you to come to Savannah the minute school is out. I told her you might be able to come as soon as Saturday?”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “She wants you to stay in her house. You can take care of her elderly cat and manage her gallery, and in your free time you can paint.” Caroline beamed as she waited for a response, but Nicole was speechless. “Nicole Elizabeth, please say something. Isn’t it wonderful? Can you believe it? Everything is all set up. Your summer is going to be fabulous!”

  “Mom, that’s nuts. I can’t just—”

  “You can and you will. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.” She waved a finger under Nicole’s nose.

  “Look, I know this makes sense to you, but—”

  “It makes perfect sense. Not only will you make some extra money during the summer, but you’ll have a new experience, and it will infuse you with more enthusiasm for teaching art. You saw how your students lit up when you shared about your time in Europe. It’s no wonder you feel stuck in your job, honey. You’ve gotten stodgy and stale. You need this to awaken your senses.”

  “All teachers get stodgy and stale at the end of the school year. That’s why we need a summer break, and that’s why I intend to—”

  “I forgot to mention that Vivian will cover your airfare. She’s already asking her travel agent to—”

  “Mom, I can’t do this.”

  “Of course you can. You told me yourself you don’t have any plans for the summer.”

  “I plan to take it easy. And to paint.” Nicole scowled at her.

  “And to mope around waiting for Peter to call—”

  “I’m over Peter.” Nicole believed it was true, wanted it to be true, knew she would be better off if it was true . . . but her mom’s prediction felt accurate as well.

  “Then why not go to Savannah? According to Vivian, it’s the new hot spot for up-and-coming artists. You’ll make new friends—just like you were saying about Raphael today. Savannah is just what you need.”

  “But managing an art gallery?”

  “Oh, I should’ve mentioned that you’ll be co-managing the gallery. Apparently, Vivian has another girl working for her. I can’t remember her name, but she’s been with Vivian for a few years and I’m sure she knows what she’s doing. Viv was worried it was too much for this girl on her own. That was where you came in.”

  Nicole admitted that helping someone else to manage sounded a bit less intimidating. And spending some time on the other side of the country . . . putting that much distance between her and Peter . . . well, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

  Caroline smiled smugly. “I can tell you’re warming to the idea.”

  “It has a certain appeal.” Nicole shrugged. “It’s just that I feel so inadequate. Me? Managing a gallery? Really?” She looked down at her worn chambray shirt, complete with paint stains and a missing button. Her faded jeans with a torn knee weren’t any better than what her students wore. The school’s dress code for teachers was casual. Even more casual if you worked in the art department—and she took full advantage of it. “I don’t have the right clothes for a job like that, Mom.”

  “That’s why you and I are going shopping right after we get that kiln at your school loaded.”

  “But I—”

  “No more buts, Nicole.” Caroline beamed as she stood. “I already told Vivian that I knew you’d accept her offer.”

  “Shouldn’t I talk to her myself?” Nicole stood too, trying to grasp what had just transpired here.

  “Eventually.” Caroline linked her arm in Nicole’s. “But first we’ve got things to do, places to go, people to see.”

  Nicole’s head felt like it was literally spinning by the time her mother dropped her off at her apartment complex later that evening.

  “Need help with those bags?” Caroline offered as she loaded Nicole up with the various bags and packages from the trunk. They’d hit Caroline’s favorite shopping place, the outlet mall, and they’d hit it hard.

  “That’s okay, I can get it.” Nicole forced a smile as she balanced the bundles. “Thanks for everything . . . I think.”

  Caroline looped the last bag handle over Nicole’s thumb. “You’re doing the right thing, honey. You won’t be sorry.”

  “You’ll text me Vivian’s number so I can call her in the morning?”

  “I already did that while you were in the dressing room. It’s right in your phone.” Caroline gave her a peck on the cheek. “Good night.”

  Nicole thanked her again and headed up the stairs, loaded down with her loot. When she reached her apartment, she dumped most of the bags by the door, then dug her key from her bag. Had she lost her ever-loving mind? What had she gotten herself into, and how would she get herself out of it?

  She opened the door and dragged the shopping-spree purchases into her apartment, scattering bags and boxes across the floor of her tiny living room and into her bedroom. She should be glad to escape this tiny apartment for a few months. Even with AC, it was usually stifling during the summer. She’d only stuck it out here in the hopes that Peter would pop the question and, after the wedding, she would relocate. But that, like so many of her other grown-up dreams, had evaporated after Peter announced his plans to take his grunge band on the road last November. Even though the “yearlong” tour ended after a few months, Peter hadn’t called her. According to a mutual friend, he planned to restart the tour before long—probably after his band’s coffers were refilled with local gigs and their GoFundMe site. Who knew how long that could take?

  Nicole closed and locked the front door. Really, it had been a blessing that Peter had pulled the plug on their relationship. In some ways she’d been as stuck in that as she was in this apartment and her present job. Maybe Savannah truly was just the ticket, as her mom kept insisting.

  She remembered something she’d heard in church a few weeks ago, something that had resonated with her. Just because a path feels easy does not make it the best path. Managing an art gallery in Savannah did not sound easy. Did that mean it was a better path? Or even the right path? Of course, it was only for the summer. Maybe she just needed to lighten up.

  As Nicole dumped the spoils onto her bed, she tried to imagine what it would feel like to dress up for a job. She held up a sleeveless dress that her mother insisted was a necessity. Her mom couldn’t believe that Nicole didn’t own a little black dress. “What self-respecting grown-up woman doesn’t have an LBD?” she’d demanded as she’d thrust the simple garment at Nicole. It was Ralph Lauren, but Caroline had found it on the rack for an additional 50 percent off. Nicole had to give it to her mother—the woman knew how to shop and how to find a bargain.

  “I don’t do grown-up clothes,” Nicole had confessed, turning around to model a pair of sleek white pants that would be trashed if she ever wore them for teaching.

  “It’s high time you did,” her mom had insisted, reminding her that she would turn thirty in late July. Not that Nicole needed reminding—she did not feel the least bit ready for the big 3-0.

  Nicole picked up the coral blazer her mom had insisted was perfect for Savannah. Holding it up in front of her, she stared at her image in the closet door mirror. The lively color actually looked pretty good on her, and the jacket was rather chic, especially considering the bargain price. Not only that, but it went nicely with a sundress
of a lighter shade of coral. Still, the stylish blazer just didn’t look like her. For that matter, none of these items did. And as she’d pointed out to her mom—who’d insisted on footing the bill for the impromptu shopping spree, saying it was an early birthday present—all these pieces would be useless in her normal life.

  “It’s time your normal life changed,” her mom had declared. “It was one thing for you to dress like a punk rocker, or whatever you kids call it nowadays, while you were dating Peter, but you need to be open to new things. Who knows what’s ahead?”

  As Nicole went through the other items, neatly laying out the blouses, skirts, pants, scarves, and dresses, she wondered how difficult it would be to return everything. She felt certain that after she talked to Vivian in the morning—once Vivian was fully aware of Nicole’s sadly lacking “credentials”—she would politely but most definitely change her mind.

  3

  By morning, Nicole had mixed feelings about Savannah as she called Vivian. On one hand, it was unrealistic to think she could spend a summer managing an art gallery. On the other hand, she really wanted to do this.

  “Hi, Vivian,” she said tentatively. “This is Nicole. I wanted to—”

  “Oh, Nicole, darling, I’m so glad you called.” Vivian’s Southern drawl sounded so rich and authentic, no one would guess she’d grown up in the Pacific Northwest. “I only have a few minutes to chat, honey, and I already texted your sweet mama about your flight details, so you can get that from her, but I am pleased as punch that you’re coming to Savannah for the summer. It seems truly providential. An answer to prayer, even!”

  “It’s a great opportunity, but—”

  “Your mama probably told you how concerned I am about leaving my little enterprise behind. Robert absolutely blindsided me with this world cruise for our anniversary. I had no idea! Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to pieces to go, it’s just that the Graham Gallery is more than simply a business to me. Oh, it’s embarrassing to admit, but it’s sort of like my third child.” She chuckled. “Just don’t tell my boys I said that. Anyway, I have some wonderful artists lined up for some very special shows this summer. One of them is from Holland. And artists need to be treated with TLC, if you know what I mean. That’s something another artist should understand. You do understand the artistic temperament, don’t you, honey?”

  “Well, yes, I believe I do, but I—”

  “That’s just what your mama told me. By the way, you are a very talented artist too, Nicole.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say—”

  “I have no problem with you painting while you’re working at the gallery. I know it can get slow in there. Plus I think customers would enjoy seeing an artist at work, as long as you don’t neglect them. I’m sure you won’t.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “We could discuss doing a small exhibit with your own work after I return from this trip. Perhaps in October. I don’t have anything booked for that month yet. And I’d just love to see your portfolio. Maybe you can email it to me before you head on down here. But back to the gallery. You see, I do have a regular assistant manager. Amyra Moore has been with me for almost three years. She’s probably about your age, maybe a bit older. Naturally, she’s experienced and very good at what she does. She knows the business end of things well enough, but sometimes she lacks something. I think it’s because she doesn’t fully appreciate the artistic temperament. Do you know what I mean?”

  “I think I do, but I just want you to understand that I don’t have much actual business experience.” Nicole quickly explained about art school and teaching art, but before she could finish, she was cut off again.

  “Yes, yes, your mama told me all about that. It’s exactly why I think you’ll be perfect, darling. Don’t you worry your pretty head about it. I don’t like to sound shallow, but it is a comfort that you’re such a pretty girl. I swear I thought I was looking at Kate Hudson when your mama sent your photo. Now be sure and get the flight details from her. I would’ve sent them to you, but I didn’t have your email or phone number yet. I suppose I have it now though. Anyway, either Robert or I will pick you up at Savannah on Saturday, and we’ll—”

  “Saturday?” Nicole felt a fresh rush of panic. That was three days away!

  “Your mama assured me that school ends this week. Robert and I fly down to Miami on Sunday morning. The boat sets sail later that day. I’d really like to meet with you before we leave.”

  “But Friday is my last day of students, and then I have to close up my classroom.”

  “Saturday doesn’t work for you?” Vivian sounded crushed.

  Nicole thought for a moment. There were a couple of teachers who owed her favors and a few students who loved to help. And her principal would probably grant her an early leave if she explained about the “artistic opportunity” to work at an art gallery in Savannah. “I can probably make it work,” she said, hoping it was true. “I just wanted to be sure you knew what you were getting into with me, Vivian. I don’t want to misrepresent myself or disappoint you with my unimpressive résumé.”

  “Oh, honey, I know you’re just what I need.” She paused to say something to Robert, assuring him she was almost finished with the call. “Nicole.” Her tone grew serious. “Do you remember the Grand Canyon?”

  “Of course.” Nicole had been thirteen when they’d taken that vacation, the last time they’d shared vacations with the Graham family.

  “Do you remember when you kids were getting ready to ride those mules down that steep canyon trail, and Ryan was scared spitless over the whole thing?”

  “Uh-huh . . .” Nicole vaguely remembered the incident. What did it have to do with anything?

  “Alex and Katy were teasing Ryan mercilessly—do you recall that?”

  “Yes, but not too clearly.”

  “Well, I still remember it like yesterday. I was trying to hang back, but I knew Ryan didn’t want to go. I saw you comforting him, just like a little mother hen. You reassured him that those clumsy-looking mules knew what they were doing and that he’d be just fine. You told him when the day was done he’d be glad that he’d gone. He believed you. And you were right. I’ve always remembered that, honey. Always known you have a gentle and compassionate heart. That’s how I know you’re the perfect person to manage the Graham Gallery while I’m gone. You have the right spirit for it.”

  “Well, thank you. That means a lot.”

  “And now I really must go. Robert is threatening to leave without me, and we’ve got about a million errands to do today. I’ll see you on Saturday, honey. Your flight gets in around dinnertime. Travel safely, and we’ll talk more after you arrive. Take care now.” Just like that she hung up.

  As far as Nicole could see, it was a sealed deal. She was going to Savannah. Now if only she could arrange things at school in time to make that Saturday flight.

  A short time later as she walked to school, she thought about the Grand Canyon incident. She did remember the older siblings’ cruelness to Ryan for being afraid. That was nothing new. Alex had always been something of a bully, and Nicole’s sister Katy hadn’t been much better. Nicole had felt sorry for Ryan, but she’d also been worried that they wouldn’t get to do the mule ride if he bailed. The idea was for the four kids to go together with the guide—without parents. So to be honest, her helping Ryan hadn’t derived from a truly pure motivation. Still, she hadn’t realized that Vivian was watching that day—or that she’d remember the incident as a character reference for Nicole all these years later. Nicole hoped she could still live up to it.

  It was fortunate that Vivian didn’t know about the times Nicole had snubbed her younger son. Although Ryan was a few months older than Nicole, he’d always seemed younger. Besides being an immature boy with smelly feet, he was scrawny and short and wore clunky glasses that never seemed to stay in place. He usually had his nose in a book and was basically a hopeless nerd.

  Because of Nicole’s obsession with his older and mu
ch cooler brother, she had sometimes given Ryan, who had seemed to dote on her, the cold shoulder. She had never appreciated being paired with him simply because they were closer in age. Vivian must’ve missed those moments.

  As Nicole waited for the crosswalk light to change, she texted her mom regarding her conversation with Vivian. She even applied some friendly pressure for Caroline to don some grubbies and come help pack up some of the art room after school today. Seemed like the least she could do since this had been her idea in the first place.

  The next few days passed like a whirlwind, and on Saturday morning Nicole was astonished to find herself boarding the plane. Her mom had dropped her off at SeaTac, and when she checked in, she was pleasantly surprised to discover that her ticket was nonstop to Atlanta—first class! She’d never flown first class before and almost wished she hadn’t worn jeans. But at least they were her good jeans. And she had on the coral jacket.

  Feeling pampered and somewhat princess-like, Nicole made the most of her first-class status. She liked the attention and perks—a total departure from her normal life. As the flight attendants graciously told her goodbye in Atlanta, she wondered why she’d ever questioned her mom about any of this. Her next flight, also first class, was just as good, and when she got off the plane in Savannah, she felt a bit like a rock star. Or maybe even royalty. But nothing like a weary high school art teacher.

  A girl could get used to this, she thought as she strolled to the baggage claim. The Grahams definitely knew how to live. Well, it was probably easy to live like this when you had the money. That had never been the case with her family.

  As she waited for the baggage carousel, she checked her messages to discover that Vivian would be picking her up in a white Range Rover. The plates were GAL GAL, which Nicole assumed meant “gallery gal.” Cute.

  She hauled her luggage out to ground transportation, watching cars and taxis move past, until she saw the Range Rover with the custom plates. Vivian really didn’t seem to have changed much. Still stylish—tall and thin with short blonde hair—and happily waving from behind the wheel.

 

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