by Erinne Bates
I stood still, frozen while waiting for Fenne to make her way through the crowd that had pooled before her, wanting to shake her hand or take a picture with her. On the inside I was beaming with enormous pride.
“I’m not sure which of you is luckier,” Elise said in my ear.
“She is amazing, Calli,” Natalie commented from the other side of Elise.
“You guys, I’m in complete awe,” I said, finally turning to face them.
“You’re glowing,” Natalie smiled, touching the side of my arm.
When Fenne was finally able to reach us, I introduced her to Elise and Natalie.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked her as her fingers sought mine.
“Actually,” Fenne turned to Elise and Natalie, “Do you mind if I steal her for one brief moment? We won’t be long.” As she led me away, she kept her hand in mine, making a direct line for a door near the other side of the room. People stepped toward her to praise her or have a quick word, but she gave appreciative nods to them or shook their hand in passing, while never letting go of mine. I could feel their eyes on us as we passed.
Through the door, our steps quickened until we reached a small room that she had a key for. Locking the door behind us, Fenne pressed me against it and kissed me feverishly.
“I just want to go home-“ she whispered between kisses, “I just want to go home and be in your arms.”
“We will,” I promised.
“I saw you out there and I almost forgot what I was supposed to say.”
“Do you have any idea how you impacted everyone tonight?” I asked, wiping my lipstick from her lips. “You are amazing. It was like you injected each of us with a little bit of what it is like to experience art from your eyes.”
“Really?” I could see in her face this made her happy. “I just wanted to re-ignite their interest in these pieces we have all grown up with, but may have become prosaic.”
“I believe you achieved that very thing,” I said, knowing we should get back to the main room. “I just want to tell you…because I know when we go back out there, people are going to want to spend time getting to know you, so we might get separated…but I wanted to say first, how very special you are to me. How wonderful I think you are. How incredibly beautiful you look—"
“Why don’t you just tell me how much you love me,” Fenne said, her mouth drawing close to mine again.
“Very much.”
“Tell me,” she whispered.
“I love you. I love you more than you know.”
Fenne’s eyes closed, “Hearing those words from you make me feel like I can accomplish anything.”
“It’s true. I want to keep telling you over and over.”
“Then do it. Because I love you more than anything else.”
I stared into her eyes, letting her words replace the fear and shame that kept me from opening up for the past two years.
“I told you before you left that I would come for you,” she continued. “I want to find a way—”
There was a tap at the door, “Miss Kestel?” a young man’s voice called from the other side. She opened the door to one of the caterers I had seen earlier roaming the event with trays of delicious hors d'oeuvres.
“Yes?”
“They’ve asked me to let you know the mayor is here and they would like to introduce you,” he said. Fenne looked at me.
“I’ve already met the mayor. She came to visit while we were setting up,” she said.
“It’s for the public,” I explained. “She needs to be seen attending this event, and they will want a photo of her with you. Probably for the paper” I reached out and squeezed her hand. Fenne told the man to wait for her outside the door.
“I want to leave when you do,” she then said. “I will meet everyone I have to meet tonight, and be social and courteous and then I am leaving with you. I will leave my car and pick it up after tomorrow’s exhibition.” I nodded and followed her back to the main room, then re-joined Elise and Natalie, as the man escorted her to meet our city’s mayor.
After only a little more than an hour, Fenne approached us that she had been given the ‘ok’ to depart. Elise suggested we go dancing somewhere, but Natalie wanted to find a place that we could sit and socialize with each other.
“I really want to see this place that Calli tells me about sometimes that she goes to. This ‘dive bar’ she calls it. You play pool there?” Fenne said, looking at me curiously.
Elise smiled knowingly. “Veronica’s,” she said.
When we walked in, I felt as though we looked like we had just come from the high school prom. Every head turned as we found an empty booth near the back of the bar. Angie, one of the barmaids, brought over a pitcher of beer and four mugs.
“From Ronnie,” she said. “She said to tell you she ain’t never imagined she’d see you in a pair of six inches,” she said directly to Elise. Elise waved to Ronnie, the actual Veronica whom the bar had been named after and part-owner we’d all known for as long as we’d been old enough to enter that place. Ronnie wasn’t much older than Elise was. She was beautifully weathered by years of bar life and never kept it a secret her attraction to her. Although Elise will never admit it to me, I am positive she made all of Ronnie’s fantasies come true one drunken evening when Elise accepted a ride home from her after she supposedly lost her car keys. Angie turned to Fenne, “Who’s your new friend?”
“Thanks for the beer, Ange,” I said, taking Fenne’s hand under the table. Angie looked at me and winked.
“Just checking,” she said, “Need anything else ladies?”
Chapter 35
Facing Another Goodbye
I decided to work from home during the last week that Fenne was with me. I really thought three weeks together would be a lot of time, but it wasn’t even close to being enough and flew by too quickly. I thought we would have plenty of spare time to do things outside of work, but both of us had stayed extremely busy and were left with two or three hours at the end of every evening and a few in the mornings if I was able to arrange my schedule.
Fenne was intensely focused on her work. A few of her colleagues had traveled with her from Amsterdam and between them the exhibit had been a success at the Bay Area Museum, drawing in a large number of visitors. Several write-ups were published in the local newspapers, specifically featuring Fenne and her passionate account of the pieces. I was so proud of her. I sent some of the articles to Juliette in France to let her know her accomplishments.
By mid-week, Fenne came home in an agitated mood. She was usually tired when she arrived, but it was normally socially. She would be drained from having to converse so much with those visiting the exhibit, and she said the conversations often went from questions about Rembrandt to questions about where she was from, where she studied, what her age was, etc. Never had she been in a bad mood at the end of the day, however.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked her, handing her a hot tea.
“Edward was offered a position in the consulting and contracting department,” she replied, taking the cup then sitting on the couch where we spent every evening catching up on the day’s events.
“Oh, I see.” Edward was one of her colleagues from Amsterdam. I had only met him once, but nothing stood out about him other than he was very tall. “But…wouldn’t that mean other opportunities might be available? For you?”
“If they were, I’d think they would have asked by now,” she grumbled, setting her untouched tea down. I reached for her hand, but it remained limp on her lap.
“Maybe he went to them first,” I offered, but she shook her head.
“No. They approached him privately this morning,” she replied. I studied her while she stared at her untouched tea in thought. “I keep thinking maybe I was unprofessional and they don’t want me,” she said.
“That’s impossible,” I said, “You were the reason people took such a big interest in paintings that we art dummies have become bli
nd to for the last 20 years of our lives. We’ve seen them all before. But you gave us reason to feel inspired, Fenne. You did this.”
“I can’t help but think maybe I didn’t put enough time in. There were so many evenings when the staff invited us to go out after and I always came here instead.”
Fenne’s words stunned me. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe that she was somehow blaming –
That somehow coming home instead of going out caused her to miss—
“What are you saying? Do you think they took it personally that you didn’t go out with the crew after every show?” I asked her.
“I felt pressure to come back here as soon as possible every evening, so maybe they didn’t get the opportunity to get to know me—”
“Oh really!” I exclaimed, feeling a mixture of disbelief, hurt, and exasperation surfacing. I quickly tried to squelch them because I knew deep down she couldn’t possibly have meant to say she felt pressure. “Because I have a series of text messages stating how much you couldn’t wait for the night to end so you could get home to me.”
“It’s what you wanted to hear wasn’t it?”
Her words echoed in the room as they silenced me. Each night that we spent wrapped in each other’s arms, pouring our love out to one another flashed through my head.
“I think you don’t mean that,” I said in a calming voice, hoping she would retract her implications.
“Time after time I refused their invitations and now they assume I have no further interest in them,” Fenne stood as she spoke these words.
“Where are you going?”
“Tonight was our last evening. There is a mandatory meeting at that restaurant – Alexanders—in an hour. I want to have a shower.”
Fenne looked at me, and I thought for a moment she was going to ask me to join her at Alexanders, but with a blink, she walked past me. I sat on the couch until I heard the shower start, and then I looked in my closet for something dressy to wear. Alexanders was an extraordinary five-star restaurant. She had mentioned last week they would finish the exhibition with a late-night dinner and everyone was allowed to bring someone. I decided to take the stubborn route and assume I hadn’t been uninvited.
When she came from the shower and saw my dress laid out on the bed next to her outfit she turned to me.
“You don’t need to go,” she said.
“You really don’t seriously think you have been passed over for a position with the museum because of me… do you?” She was tearing down my sense that she was only reacting this way out of disappointment. Her rejection was beginning to hurt.
“Ok, go with me then,” she said half-heartedly. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“Fenne,” I pleaded, “I understand how disappointing this is. I didn’t even know it was possible to get an offer from them out of all this. I swear. And I would never pressure you to not participate in work functions. My god, I have to go to them all the time, so I get how important they are. But maybe it’s something you have to ask for in this situation. Regardless of how Edward got his.”
Fenne gave a slight shrug of the shoulders but refused to be taken in by my words.
“What does it look like for me to ask for a position with them after one of my colleagues was offered one?”
Chapter 36
Alexanders
Fenne didn’t speak on the drive to Alexanders, but I did what I could to let her know I was there for her and tried not to let her mood affect mine. I wanted to be strong for her but feared I hadn’t the tools to bring her out of the temperament she was in. I was disappointed in my already unsuccessful attempts.
Before we got out of the car, I grabbed her hand.
“I’m so proud of you,” I said. “You really were perfect in the ways you presented yourself and represented your own museum back home.” Fenne leaned toward me and kissed me, but only half of my lips – more of my cheek than mouth. She took my hand as we walked from the car to the entrance, but remained silent.
During dinner, she held conversations with others as though there was never anything wrong but still said nothing to me. Whoever was seated near me made small talk with me initially, but it was only to be polite before they talked across me to Fenne. When my spirit had finally sunk to its lowest point, I excused myself to go to the ladies' room so I could be alone to push back the tears that wanted to come. I was only in there for a few moments when someone tapped lightly on the stall door.
“Will you come out please?” It was Fenne.
“No.” I tried not to sniffle, but my nose had begun running. I held toilet paper to my nostrils to avoid blowing my nose. I didn’t want her to know I was feeling emotional.
“I’ve been an ass,” she said softly. “I’ve taken out my disappointment on you and I am ashamed. Please come out, I want to ask for your forgiveness.”
“I’ll be ok,” I said, sounding like I was pinching my nose closed.
“Why do you sound funny?”
I blew my nose finally and exited the stall.
“I don’t want your apology,” I said. “Just stop treating me as though I’m the enemy. I don’t deserve that.”
“I know” – she placed her hands on my waist—“Het spijt me, I was wrong.”
“It was starting to hurt,” I said.
“Please forgive me. Please – the thing is—“ she released me and took my hand, “on the day you left me the last time we were together in my home, I said something to you that I promised I would tell you what it meant at a later time. I had said I would come for you one day … if you waited. And I had a notion that this might be the opportunity for us to be together, to make that promise come true, but…I was so disappointed when I had learned of Edward’s offer. None of us even expected there would be one, but all I could think of was that I had failed you.”
“You didn’t fail me. We’ll find a way together. You just can’t close yourself off like that when things don’t go the way you want them to,” I said. “I can’t take that from you. I won’t take that from you—”
“Never again.” Fenne kissed my fingers, “I love you. I know what it means now when they say I loved you before I met you. I thought it was a stupid thing to say to someone, but it makes sense-”
“Now who’s rambling,” I gently teased. “I love you. I have never stopped. We’ll find a way together to make this happen, ok?”
Fenne nodded. “How do you say ‘We are together’?”
I laughed, “That’s pretty much it.”
“Will you be together with me?”
“Always?”
She nodded, “Please.”
When we arrived back at the table, the overseer of operations stood to speak. He was a lean man, with porcelain smooth skin that contrasted his thick jet-black hair that had been slicked back with gel.
“First, before I begin, I want to tell everyone my name because I enjoy the privilege of being able to brag to others that some of the most amazing people in this city know me by my first name,” he began. “I’m Scott Scoffield. I am the Overseer of Operations, which is just a fancy name for the guy who is held responsible if anything goes wrong.” Chuckles came forth from nearly each of us. Fenne was one of those who did not chuckle at his opening joke and I sensed he may have been the one to offer Edward the job earlier.
“Seriously, I don’t think we have had the spike in memberships we experienced, in over ten years. It was record-breaking.” The table applauded. “Eager to keep our members happy by not taking away the very energy that brought them to us, we have offered a position on our team to Mr. Edward Visser – “ the table erupted with more applauds and a few added cheers. “I guess I don’t need to ask you to give him a warm welcome,” he added with a laugh. Fenne had clapped this time, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. I rested my hand on hers as Scott Scoffield continued to speak.
“…But there’s something else I’d like to bring up, and I’ve been eagerly waiting for this part of the evening to arrive,�
� he began. “Most of us have worked in different museums for several years, and some of you are just beginning, but we all have one thing in common and that is our thirst for the precious preservation of the treasured gifts we house from the greatest artists in the world.” Every one of us at the table nodded or raised a glass in acknowledgment.
I looked around the table at each person as Scott spoke. Helen Masterson, the head of Curatorial Affairs was seated next to Scott. David Peterson from Exhibit Production and his very pregnant wife sat beside Helen. I didn’t know them personally but had seen their faces on the museum’s webpage when I wanted Fenne to think I was “informed” in one small way. Our city’s mayor, Sandy Waldorf, was even with us. I imagined that this would become my life should Fenne and I actually succeeded in bringing our lives together.
“…We’ve had five exhibitions this past year, with this being our fifth,” Scott continued. “They’ve all been mildly successful. We don’t always reach the numbers we hoped for, but we always get a number of new supporters and our gratitude cannot be measured obviously.” Putting on his reading glasses then holding a piece of paper to his face, he continued, “I want to read you some of the reviews we have gotten just from this past year… Spectacular display of fine art…Bay Area Museum brings the best to its community…Bay Area Museum shares its love for history…” Scott paused and looked around the table, “These are the reviews from the last four exhibitions we’ve had. And now I want to read a few of the many from this current one: Bay Area Museum ignites new passions for Rembrandt. Dutch art… Bay Area Museum brings Dutch classics but Ms. Kestel delivers… Ms. Kestel redefined the concept of intimate and up-close when she spoke at the Bay Area Museum on some of the world’s most famous pieces known by Dutch artists…