The Artist's Paradise

Home > Other > The Artist's Paradise > Page 23
The Artist's Paradise Page 23

by Pamela S Wetterman


  “Fine, take care of your precious professor.” Angie turned to Hanna. She raised her arm and pulled back her sleeve. “Hanna, do you have a camera? I want a picture of these bruises.”

  “No, not on me.” Hanna said, eyes wide.

  “What bruises?” the female police officer asked.

  “These bruises.” Angie pointed to the black and blue handprints on her right arm. “Your esteemed professor roughed me up several times this week.”

  “No. You were trying to. . .” He stopped abruptly.

  Angie handed Doctor Black’s instructions to the officer. “The doctor told Professor Turner to see one of these three psychiatrists today. His condition is that serious. If you don’t believe me, call him. His name and number are on the top of the discharge papers.”

  Professor Turner stood and marched toward the door, but the male cop restrained him. “You take your filthy hands off my arm, immediately.”

  The male cop pushed the professor back down in his chair. “Try your martial arts with me, and you’ll end up in prison for assault.”

  Angie pointed her finger at the professor. “If you don’t comply with the doctors’ orders, I will file a charge of physical and emotional abuse.” She glared at the male cop. “Then what kind of reputation will your community have?”

  “Lies, all lies.” Professor Turner raved.

  “Shut up.” The female cop walked up to Turner. “Sit back down.”

  “I know a lawyer who can get an order from the mental health court in Nashville to require the professor to seek treatment.” Jack said, and grinned at Turner.

  “If I make an appointment today, can I leave?” The professor stood.

  “Professor Turner, no complaint will be filed here today,” the male cop said. “But a court order will be filed. You must seek professional help, whether you make an appointment today or not.”

  The professor grunted and stepped toward Angie and the Bakers. “You have the upper hand today.” Pointing at Angie, he said. “I’ll make that appointment, even though it’s nonsense.” Then moving his attention to Hanna, he continued. “But if this busy-body neighbor ever interferes with my life again, she’s going to find a fat lawsuit on her hands.” He offered a frozen smile, then turned his back on them and whistled as he strolled toward the door.” Stomping out of the conference room, he slammed the door behind him.

  Hanna turned and gently patted Angie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. That man will get what he deserves one day. Go take care of your husband. I have your suitcases at my house. Give us a call when you’re ready for them. Jack can deliver the bags to you so you won’t have to be near that professor ever again.”

  “He’ll probably figure out a way to put all the blame on me.” Angie slumped in her seat. Her limp body matched her mood. What a failure she’d turned into. But, she refused to participate in a pity party. She had a marriage to repair. Turning to the Bakers, she said, “Jack, if you can drop my suitcases off at the hospital later today, I’d appreciate it.”

  She pulled herself up from the hard wooden seat. She would take care of Jonathan and forget about everything else.

  #

  The professor refused a ride home from the police. He stormed out of the station and strode over to a small café at the end of the block. “I need a phone, now.”

  The middle-aged waitress looked up and glared at him. “This ain’t no phone booth, Buddy. Folks around here use their cell phones. What century did you come from?”

  “Look lady. I’ve had a rough day. I need a cab to get home. Give me a phone, and I’ll be out of here.”

  She stomped over to the counter, picked up a yellow paper flyer, and handed it to him.

  “Here’s the number for a cab.” She flung the paper in his direction. “You’ll find the payphone out there.” Her arm flew upward, and she pointed to the door. “If you’re not buying nothing, it’s time for you to leave.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Sorry. I don’t know who you are, and I don’t care.”

  He pivoted toward the door and stomped out. The nerve of that woman, she deserved to be pouring cold coffee in an all-night diner. No respect for men. He required respect and he would have it. He was glad Angie was gone. She was a no-talent woman who didn’t deserve his time. She’d turned out to be like his mother—weak and useless. He’d tried to help her, but she was impossible.

  As he rode home, he smiled to himself. Fall semester would be starting in a few weeks, and he needed time to recover from this horrible summer. There would be a better candidate this year. He’d made a mistake trying to help Angie. She had too many flaws. He would take more time in selecting the perfect student. One who had the talent and would do whatever he instructed. He would be renowned all over the art world. Yes, this was going to be his year.

  #

  Settled into a cab and happy to be headed back to her husband, Angie relaxed with her forehead pressed against the window glass. Startled by the ring of a cell phone somewhere in her lap, she grabbed her purse and dug deep. Jonathan’s cell continued to ring. Angie stared at the caller I.D., “Gina?”

  “Angie, is that you? I’ve called Jonathan for the past six hours. I need to speak to him.”

  “He’s not here. What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong? He had an eight o’clock appointment with our board today. He never came in. When I reached him, he told me he had a family emergency. He assured me he’d call in later. Then he said he had quit the firm. Do you know how I can reach him?”

  What part of their life should she share with Gina? How could she respond? She shifted her weight in the backseat of the cab. “Yes and no.”

  “What?”

  “He’s here in Knoxville. There was a little trouble, and he has a concussion and three broken ribs. He’s in the hospital. We hope he’ll be released tomorrow. Not sure when he can actually travel. But when I get back to the hospital, I can have him call you.”

  “Broken ribs? Did he finally meet the professor, or did you belt him?”

  “I see he told you about Professor Turner. You know Jonathan. They met and agreed to dislike each other.” She chuckled. “Men.”

  “What does he want me to tell the boss, the board, and the office?”

  “Can you keep them at bay for at least the next twenty-four hours?”

  “Sorry. That’s not possible. He has to call Carl A.S.A.P.”

  Angie pulled the cell phone from her ear and glared at it. “Fine, he’ll call from the hospital. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

  “I’ll buy him thirty minutes, but that’s all I can get for him. He’s been acting strangely for several weeks. But having him M.I.A., delaying goes beyond my skills. Tell him we have reached the end of his boss’s patience. If he wants to keep his job, he can’t miss making that call.”

  #

  Angie provided Jonathan with an update on the fiasco at the police headquarters. He listened quietly. Then she broached him about the call from Gina.

  He groaned and stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t go back there. My life’s impossible. Would you be upset if I quit?”

  “This is one decision you have to make alone. Only you know what makes you happy. We’ll survive as long as we’re together.”

  “My life has been out of balance. It’s time for us to join the life of the living.”

  He reached for his cell. “Gina, it’s Jonathan. Sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble. Transfer me to Carl, please. ”

  His call with Carl lasted less than thirty seconds. “I quit. Find yourself another billing monkey. Sorry for the lack of notice. Starting today, I’ve got a life to live.”

  Jonathon hung up. “I should have done that a year ago. Let’s get out of here and make some plans.”

  Angie leaned over the hospital bed and hugged her husband. You won’t be released until tomorrow, Tiger.”

  “Ouch. Take it easy on me for a few days. Then watch out.”

  Angie gri
nned. “No. You watch out.”

  Chapter 40

  Angie strolled into their bedroom at the Marriot hotel and sat on the edge of the bed next to Jonathan. Released from the hospital, travel plans completed, and alone at last, they were like newlyweds.

  Startled by her, he raised his arm and waived. “Hey, don’t rock this ship. My ribs are still broken, you know.”

  Well, he is returning to normal, grumpy in the morning. “Sorry. I forgot you have serious war injuries.”

  “Apology accepted, Petty Officer Rhodes. Now remind me of our departure plans again. With my severe injuries, my memory is fading.” He gingerly rolled over, raised himself on one elbow, and winced.

  “I’ve called Vicki. She’ll deposit Mister Tubbs at our final destination no later than noon tomorrow. We fly out of Knoxville on the seven o’clock flight to Chicago. Delta will have us on the ground again by eleven in the morning. We’ll take a cab to your residence, and with permission from Petty Officer Tubbs, we’ll enter the brownstone and try to figure out what an unemployed attorney does to feed his family.”

  He winked at her. “I distinctly remember you promising to cleave to me richer or poorer. We tried the richer life. It turned out badly. Now we’ll attempt a marriage as a poorer couple. Besides, you can drag your easel and watercolors out to Lincoln Park and pick up some work, if we need a loaf of bread or a bottle of wine.”

  “Humph. You must have forgotten how rusty I am with my artwork. Remember, that’s what got me into this trouble to begin with.”

  “Ah-ha.” He grabbed her around her waist as she kicked and screamed. He kissed her neck and tickled her behind the ears. It has been so long since his playful side tumbled out of him. Would he remain this much fun when life presented itself again?

  As he drew her closer, his lips found hers. “I love you. Our next fifty years together will make the first eight seem like fools’ gold. We’ve struck it rich, Babe. We’ve found the treasure—trust in each other.”

  Angie gently kissed his cheek. “I’m so happy. No matter what you decide to do for a living, I know you’ll be the very best. And yes, I plan on getting better with my watercolors. Even if the only gallery my creations hang in will be located on the walls of our home. I want to paint.”

  He swept the hair from her face, as he pulled her down onto the bed. His cobalt-blue eyes sparkled with a mischievous twinkle as he continued. “Somehow, my crystal ball is fuzzy, but I see you as a famous artist. I‘ll be a kept man. A very happy kept man.”

  “If you prefer remaining unemployed, AKA a kept man, you know you will also be a stay-at-home dad.”

  He pulled himself up and lovingly pinched her on the cheek. “I’ve had several weeks of practice already. Mister Tubbs is the biggest kid I’ve ever seen. Is it possible that you’ve spoiled him a tad?”

  She generated a mental vision of Jonathan and Mister Tubbs at home, each trying to be the alpha. Her quiet giggles burst forth into a full belly laugh with tears of joy trickling down her cheeks. Life, like a Monet garden scene, filled her with the promise of true happiness.

  #

  Jonathan turned the knob on the front door, and Angie stepped inside. Mister Tubbs jumped, twirled in circles, and raced around the living room. Then he disappeared up the stairs to the bedroom, and soon returned to the kitchen with his favorite squeaky toy.

  Angie grabbed the toy and tossed it for retrieval. “See, he hasn’t forgotten me after all.”

  Jonathan bent down and gave Mister Tubbs a fanny-pat. “Well, at least he hasn’t forgotten how to beg for treats.”

  “You’re just jealous,” she said. “You know he loves me best.”

  Jonathon scooped up Mister Tubbs and nestled him close to his chest. They had managed fine without her, but now that she was home, his life would flourish. Angie, her energy and sparkle, added to his environment.

  She gasped. “Look, a beautiful gift basket filled with fresh fruit, chocolates, and a bottle of wine.” She rushed over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Jonathan, you’re so romantic.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. I can’t take credit for anything I didn’t do. Is it from Gina?”

  Angie bent over and picked up the card from the coffee table. She opened it up and laughed out loud. “It’s from Vicki. Her note reads, Welcome home. Be good to each other, or I’ll sue for custody of Mister Tubbs.”

  “Fat chance she’d win. I’m the best attorney in Chicago. And being unemployed, I’ve got lots of time to work on our defense.”

  After a late lunch, Jonathan slipped into a peaceful sleep in the living room armchair, warmed by the crackling fire.

  Angie plopped down on the sofa with a sigh. She rubbed the back of her neck and stretched out her long frame. Mister Tubbs hopped onto the sofa next to her and crawled into her lap. His coal-black eyes gazed up at her as if to say, “Welcome home.”

  She picked up the landline phone and dialed Vicki. “We’re home at last. Thank you for the gift basket. It’s wonderful.”

  “Honey, I’m so glad your home. Are you okay?”

  Angie frowned. Was she really okay? Time would tell. “To be honest with you, I’ve got to process everything that’s happened. I’ve changed. I hope for the better.”

  “Changed? How?”

  Angie sat quietly in deep thought. How to explain her experience with the professor? “I guess the best way to describe it, is trial by fire. With no support -system around me, I was forced to rely on a man who wanted to own me.”

  “Then you do believe he was an emotional abuser?”

  “That—and more. I’m not a doctor, but he was not right. For whatever reason, he takes, controls, and intimidates to have what and who he wants. I grew up believing every person was good and earned a second chance. I was wrong.”

  “Honey, you sound bitter.”

  Angie pulled Mister Tubbs closer, “Not bitter, but a great deal wiser. At thirty-two years old, I entered adulthood. It was necessary, but very stressful.”

  “Now what?”

  Ah, she thought, the best is yet to come. “Now, I begin the rest of my life with Jonathan, and we work on our marriage together. It’s all good. I appreciate you standing by me. I know there were days when you wondered if it was worth it.”

  “No, I never doubted our friendship, but honestly, I wasn’t sure we’d ever get you back.”

  The two friends chatted for almost an hour, and then Angie bid a goodbye.

  As Jonathan slept, she moved into the kitchen, poured a cup of French Roast coffee and sat down at the bar. With pen and pad in hand, she created her To-Do list. It was time for her to build life goals and plans on how to move forward. She couldn’t look to Jonathan for her happiness. Imagine having the freedom to live, follow her dreams, and be independent. She embraced her newly found strength. She would be both independent, and yet a devoted wife. Her difficult time in Knoxville provided the opportunity to discover what was important to her. On the road to growing up, she rediscovered Jonathan and her marriage. God had blessed her journey, and she would not waste a day of their future.

  Perhaps one day Jonathan would be open to starting a family. But they had agreed to focus on one thing at a time. First, they had work to do on their marriage, and there was a lack of employment to resolve. They were going to be busy for some time, but at least they would be on the same path.

  She looked forward to her first appointment with Doctor Stephanie King. Her life, for the first time in memory, offered new horizons. She warmed inside. At last, she understood the phrase—soared with the eagles.

  Epilogue

  Two years later

  Signs of spring in Gatlinburg, Tennessee appeared on every corner. The shops buzzed with activity. Owners finalized the fresh touch-up paint, added the sweet fragrance of spring hyacinths in ceramic pots by their entrances, and placed the open signs on their doors. Vacationers would begin their trek by the weekend to gleefully search for unique crafts, delicious candies and fudge, original ar
tworks, and relaxation.

  Angie and Mister Tubbs spent the morning tramping through the woods. Camera in hand, she captured digital images of future watercolor projects. She cautiously lowered herself on a large boulder to relax by an old overgrown evergreen tree. Two squirrels swung from limb to limb. The squirrels chattered with excitement as Mister Tubbs attempted to leap up the tree.

  “You know tree climbing is out of your job description.”

  He wagged his stubby tail and returned to lounge by her side. Mister Tubbs loved their daily walks. He carried his leash to her when time came for their travels into nature.

  During their morning stroll back to Angie’s Loft, she’d been touched by singing birds, spider webs, and rustling leaves. She’d never known this kind of happiness. Her emotional peace provided affirmation for their life-changing decisions.

  Angie marveled as a beautiful multicolored butterfly settled onto a dead log lying in the mossy grass. She had a lot in common with that creature. A little over a year ago, they’d both been caterpillars. Now they’d grown into glorious butterflies. Surely, this place was like the Garden of Eden.

  The time she and Jonathan spent with Doctor King helped her find her path to independence. She and Jonathan cultivated their commitment to each other.

  She gasped as Jonathan Jr. kicked in her womb. He, like his father, generated lots of activity. How wonderful to be holding him in her arms in a few more short months. What a fun surprise for Mister Tubbs. She checked the time and struggled to pull herself up from the rock.

  “I hope you arrive soon, baby Jon. I can hardly move these days.”

  Her heart raced, as she caught sight of Jonathan lumbering toward the stairs to her loft. His ribs had healed, but now ached as the weather changed. He’d put on about ten sympathy pounds since he’d begun to eat for two.

  Their life, slowed to the pace of a small town, allowed them to grow closer and rekindle the happiness they’d desired. With the brownstone sold, they had a nest egg for their son’s future and the ability to help others in need.

  The family of three, soon to be four, spent every evening on their front porch in the oversized rocker talking about their day. Soon Mister Tubbs would no longer fit on her lap. Good thing he accepted Jonathon as a substitute caregiver.

 

‹ Prev