The Girl in Hemingway's Studio

by Carolyn Grady

  Pablo smiled, “Yes, I decided early on while working at the museum that the hippy look wasn’t making a good impression on prospective art buyers. My expenses are minimal, so I purchased some new clothes, got a haircut, and enjoy daily access to a shower. I continue to wear my T-shirt and shorts while painting, but at my exhibits I dress up. And in answer to your question, my mother was thrilled when she saw me; my father was shocked. I think he had given up on me being anything more than a bum.”

  Both Pablo and Alexis looked over at Marcus who was slumped down in the booth, playing with the coaster under his glass of wine, with a look of indifference and boredom. Alexis sighed and shook her head.

  “In our phone call,” continued Alexis. “You said you have been selling quite a few paintings.”

  “Actually, yes,” laughed Pablo. “Would you believe I had to open a savings and checking account?”

  Alexis laughed, “Really? Are you thinking of moving from your museum apartment and buying or renting a place of your own?”

  “Nope. I like where I live. I’m just stashing my earnings in my savings. However, I did trade in my beatnik van for a new SUV.” Then Pablo leaned over the table after looking around to see if anyone was listening. “Would you believe, I’ve actually managed to put over $100,000 in my savings account?”

  All of a sudden, Marcus sat up straight and was alert and started paying attention to the conversation.

  “Pablo, I’m so proud and thrilled for your success,” gushed Alexis.

  Pablo smiled, “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about ‘fate’ and how it has played out in my life. Wasn’t it fate that I decided to sit on your porch in Key West? Didn’t fate make you ask me to accompany you to the Custom House exhibit….”

  “No,” interrupted Alexis. “I gave you a choice of Hemingway activities where you could accompany me—you chose the exhibit.”

  “I stand corrected,” laughed Pablo. “I picked the right activity where I met your photographer, Neil Elliot, who arranged the interview at the art museum.”

  Marcus looked at his wife and her friend as they enjoyed their banter of words. Suddenly he thought, Perhaps this Pablo was on to something. What if Uncle Fred hadn’t died or if Fred had left his house and mine to George, Eric and I wouldn’t be in this predicament. Eric would be in his office selling insurance policies and making money and I would be happy, relaxed and enjoying my life and not in debt. Fate or maybe it’s just making the right decision, like taking the investor’s offer and selling them the stupid mine.

  “Alexis, when do you think your book will be published? Are you using your own name or a nom de plume?” Pablo asked as he cut his steak.

  “Wow, such a big word,” teased Alexis. “My agent is hoping my book will be out in July, in time to capitalize on the busy summer season. Yes, I’m using my own name. I asked an ASU advisor if it would be appropriate since I’m a representative of the university. He said as long as I wasn’t writing a Fifty Shades of Grey-type of book, it would be okay. I even gave him a few chapters to read and he gave it to an assistant-dean. They both agreed; it was a suitable book for a professor to publish. How about you, are you using your real name or Pablo for your artwork?”

  Pablo laughed, “I’ve always hated the name Lester. Can you just imagine what kids called me in grammar school? My father named me Lester after his grandfather whom he loved and wanted to honor. When I was home for Christmas, I applied for a legal name change. My name will soon officially be Pablo. That will keep my artwork honest, but my parents can still call me Lester or Les.”

  The waiter handed Pablo the bill as instructed, and he paid with his credit card.

  Pablo and Alexis hugged as she remarked how excited they both were to see his exhibit the next evening. Pablo wasn’t convinced that Marcus was ever excited about anything.

  The next afternoon, before taking a shower and getting dressed for the gala at the Phoenix Art Museum, Marcus made a stop at Eric’s house to check on the status of their payment that was due in four days. Eric walked out of the house and ushered Marcus to the side of his house.

  “I just got a call from Sam Murdock,” Eric began. “He didn’t seem happy.”

  “More delays with the airborne gravity system study?” Marcus asked

  “Yeah, but the surveyors were able to do an extensive evaluation and mineral analysis of the mine and surrounding areas. It sounds like Sam’s guys found something that has him and his investors very upset. He wants a meeting tomorrow in his office at eleven in the morning.”

  “On Sunday? Does he think the mine isn’t worth as much as they had hoped?”

  Eric shook his head, “I don’t know; he just sounded pissed. Do you have your share of the money?”

  “Yeah, but if we have to make an April payment, I have no clue what I’m going to do. I’ll drive and pick you up at ten-thirty. Tonight, I have to escort my wife to her beatnik friend’s art exhibit. My life just goes from bad to worse.”

  “Pick me up at Mom’s house. I promised I’d have breakfast with her. Betsy running in another marathon tomorrow morning.”

  As Alexis and Marcus were pulling out of the garage to attend Pablo’s art show, Alexis noticed Marcus wasn’t wearing his sunglasses.

  Alexis looked at her husband and asked, “You forgot your Aviators. Did you leave them in the house? I can run in and grab them for you?”

  “No, I lost them a couple of days ago and I’ve been trying to retrace my steps to find them. I’m sick about it; you know how much I loved them.” Marcus frowned as he lied.

  Alexis studied Marcus’s face and sarcastically remarked, “Seriously?”

  Marcus winced at her remark. He was beginning to realize finding almost $832 each month was becoming too stressful. On Thursday, he had picked up an invoice he needed from his boss’s office. He opened a desk drawer to find a pen to write a note, when he saw the petty cash box. He opened it and saw a stack of $5s, $10s, $20s, and even $50s inside. For one brief moment, he thought about taking some of the money. But his conscience stopped him, as he thought, I’m not a thief. I can’t take money that doesn’t belong to me. I’m feeling so guilty about the things I’ve taken from Alexis and the things Eric has taken from our mother. I don’t know how long I can do this, I constantly have a sick feeling in the middle of my stomach, I wake up in the middle of the night and can’t go back to sleep, and I hate the way my wife looks at me—like she doesn’t trust me.

  Marcus looked over at his wife. She looked so pretty in her black slacks and lacy top. He did love her, and felt so responsible taking this impulsive path with his brother rather than listening to her wise words. Suddenly, Marcus decided he was going to forget about the chaos in his life and try to enjoy this evening with his wife. “Honey, I think I may have left my Aviators at Mom’s house. I check with her tomorrow.”

  Alexis smiled at her husband, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. We haven’t been out together in such a long time, let’s have fun and enjoy it.”

  Marcus found a spot near the Phoenix Art Museum, a couple of blocks away.

  “Free parking,” he smiled. “Is it okay to walk?”

  “Of course, I have my comfy shoes on.”

  They held hands as they walked into the Museum. Alexis presented her VIP tickets and was shown the way to the special exhibit. Both Marcus and Alexis stopped and caught their breath when they saw the huge painting that was featured as the centerpiece of the exhibit. It was titled, “The Girl in Hemingway’s Studio” and was almost a replica of the art hanging in their office at home. This painting placed Alexis and Francis, the cat, walking to the studio from the pool area. It was showing a completely different angle of the Hemingway property.

  Pablo saw them and walked over to where they were standing. He was wearing a light-colored silk suit and an ice-blue tieless shirt.

  Alexis smiled, “This is similar to the painting you gave me.”

  “Not exactly, I loved the painting I gave you, so I
went back to the Hemingway house and did it again. But this time I wanted to include the studio area where you actually worked. You cannot believe how many comments I get about the mysterious girl and the cat. I tell them your story and keep hoping your book will be published soon so I can tie the story of a bestseller with my painting.”

  Alexis and Marcus stood before the painting in awe. It was beautiful, and Pablo caught the essence of Alexis perfectly as she was striding across the lawn carrying her laptop. Even Francis the cat, had an attitude in the painting.

  “On a sad note,” Pablo said as he looked into Alexis’s eyes. “Francis Albert passed away last November. He had a good life, but he was eighteen years old.”

  Marcus smiled, “Plus he will live forever in your artwork.”

  Looking at the question in Alexis’s eyes, Pablo answered. “Oh I guess I should tell you I’ve become friends with Beth Hogan, the curator. She always asks about you and your book, and she gave me a free pass to paint on the premises as often as I like. It’s turned out to be a win-win situation. People outside the gates see me with my easel and canvas; they get curious and buy a ticket for the tour and watch me paint. I’ve sold so many paintings on the spot. And Beth’s tours are almost always at capacity.”

  Alexis smiled at her friend and remembered how perplexed she was when she found this strange, ill-kept man sitting on her cottage porch. She was delighted she didn’t follow her instincts or her father’s advice not to encourage strays. She appreciated that Pablo had dropped the hippy phrases from his speech and was surprised at his command of proper English language. This free spirit was on his way to becoming a successful artist, and Alexis felt she helped him a little along the way.

  As Marcus and Alexis wandered through the Phoenix Museum looking at all of Pablo’s artwork, they were amazed at what a talent this young man possessed.

  “I had no idea,” Alexis began. “Pablo has painted so many great canvases since I saw him in July. Don’t you think he is very good?”

  “Yes, he definitely has a style. He must spend a lot of time wandering around Key West painting everything in sight.”

  They stopped at the canvass of the bronze statue of Ernest Hemingway.

  A waiter with a tray of glasses filled with champagne stopped and Alexis and Marcus each took a glass. Soon a lovely redheaded, young girl with a tray of decorative canapés stopped and smiled at Marcus. Putting a supportive arm around his wife, he took two.

  Alexis looked at him, laughed, and kissed his cheek. “You devil, you can’t help yourself. You are such a good-looking man; young girls still look at you.”

  Marcus kissed his wife, “But I only have eyes for you. You are my only true love.”

  Pablo walked over to where they were standing. “Alexis, do you remember when Neil took that picture of us beside this Hemingway statue at the ‘Depicting Hemingway’ exhibition?

  You sent me a picture of it when you returned to Arizona and I decided to paint it.” Pablo pulled out his phone. “Look, I have a cell phone, so I’m connected with the rest of the world.” Pablo snapped a picture of Alexis standing by his picture. Now he had proof about “the girl” in his masterpiece.

  In spite of the gnawing anxiety over meeting with Sam Murdock tomorrow morning, Marcus was enjoying himself. Alexis’s little hippy friend turned out to be quite charming. Marcus took pleasure in teasing his wife when seeing a little jealousy if other women would playfully flirt with him.

  Before they arrived at the Museum, Marcus was thinking about asking Pablo for a loan to pay off Anthony, but decided it wasn’t worth the risk of upsetting Alexis. Maybe Murdock had good news, and he and Eric would soon be getting their $90,000 back.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Serious Conflicts

  Sunday morning came too soon; reluctantly Marcus got up and showered before driving to his mom’s house to pick up Eric. As he washed his hair in the shower, he thought of his wife and how special last night had been. Even with all his problems and complaining, he had enjoyed the exhibit and promised himself, when this mine deal got resolved, he was going to make everything up to Alexis.

  Marcus parked in front of his mother’s house and walked in. She asked if he would like some breakfast.

  “Thanks, Mom, but just a cup of coffee will be fine. Eric and I have to leave in a few minutes.” Marcus looked at Eric, something wasn’t right—he seemed dazed.

  “Well, I was just telling Eric that I’ve just discovered that I’ve been robbed. Some of my precious Hummels are missing, and I know who took them.”

  Eric and Marcus exchanged a terrified look.

  “Who Mom?”

  “Why that horrible Sally O’Reilly, that’s who. For years she’s been jealous of my Hummel collection. The other day when she stopped by for a visit, I noticed she was standing by my china cabinet with the door open looking at my precious figurines. I surprised her when I came out of the kitchen with a cup of tea for her. After she left, I took stock and discovered ‘Shepherd Boy’ and ‘Forever Friends’ were missing along with five other Hummels.”

  “Did you accuse Mrs. O’Reilly of taking your figurines?” asked Eric shaken up by his mother’s discovery.

  “Not yet, but I’m going to,” his mother said with a nod. “In fact, I’m thinking about calling the police.”

  “Mom, let’s wait a little bit before you accuse your best friend of stealing,” Marcus said as he tenderly rubbed his mother’s shoulders. Marcus looked at his silver-tongued brother, waiting for him to speak up. Eric just sat in his chair looking petrified.

  “Mom, first of all I don’t think you want to call the police just yet,” Marcus began. “Are you absolutely positive, you didn’t move the figurines somewhere else? Remember that time when you put a couple of your Hummels on the top shelf in your sewing room, so you could enjoy them while working in that room?”

  Ruth hesitated, “I’m pretty sure I never moved them, but sometimes I’ve do get confused. I’ve misplaced my car keys and forget to mail my letters. I think that happens when you live alone.”

  “Of course, it does. Eric and I will come over next weekend, and we will search your whole house. If we can’t find them, I’ll talk to Mrs. O’Reilly. You don’t want her to go to jail do you?”

  “No,” Ruth answered weakly. “But I do want my Hummels back!”

  “What a crappy day this is becoming,” said Eric as he got in Marcus’s car. “Now I wonder what has Sam so upset. This whole mine deal is so much more trouble than I anticipated.”

  “Amen to that brother.”

  “Marcus, if the police are called in on the missing statues, could they trace eBay and find out who sold them?”

  “I’m sure they could. Not a smart move, bro,” Marcus said as he glanced over at Eric. What has happened to my brother, he thought. My protector, can this be the same brother who always looked out for me when we were in school? Dad used to say that Eric was born confident and smart. Can this be the same brother who beat up that tough kid Bobby Cooper whose ruthless teasing brought me to tears? God, I wish we could go back four months and make the decision to take the money from those investors and walked away from Uncle Fred’s mine. Marcus shook his head and started the car.

  As the brothers walked into Sam’s office, they were surprised to see all the investors and the geologist, Carl Rodgers, sitting around a large conference table.

  Sam walked up to them as they entered the room.

  “Okay, boys, what the hell are you trying to pull here? The surveyors have started the evaluation and mineral analysis of the mine. It’s been a struggle as they had to drill though frozen ground, but they have been able to produce evidence of significant amounts of barite, but they were confused with the erratic location of the palladium.”

  “Sam, as I told you,” interrupted Carl Rodgers. “Palladium isn’t normally found in Missouri. Outside of Russia and South Africa, the only place with a significant amount of palladium is in Montana.”

  “I
know,” roared back Sam. Looking directly at the brothers, he asked, “So tell me how did this palladium get in your uncle’s mine? Did you plant it? Did you think we would give you more money if we thought we had a chance of finding palladium? Actually, we did increase the price we gave you for your mine because of that possibility.”

  Eric and Marcus stood looking at Sam with astonishment.

  Marcus shouted back, “First of all, Sam, you haven’t ‘given’ us anything; we haven’t received a dime from you, guys. We gave you a check for $90,000 and signed over ownership of our mine. So, totally we have given you $200,000.”

  “Hey, boys,” said Sam with a softer tone. “We never suggested this was a fairy tale; we told you up front investing with us was risky. When you invest in anything, there is always uncertainty. That is why you never endanger your family’s security or take a change on losing everything. You only invest with money you can afford to lose. That’s always been my motto.”

  Eric snickered under his breath, “Now he tells us.”

  “Anyway back to the question. The surveyors think the palladium was planted in the mine. It was only found in a few areas, and they couldn’t find a vein or seam of palladium, so that was their conclusion. Did you guys plant those rocks?”

  “No,” Marcus answered firmly. “The first time we saw a palladium rock was when Eric and I checked out Fred’s mine on our initial trip. We didn’t even know what it was, just that is was pretty, and we took a couple of the rocks home as a token gift for our wives. We showed our uncle’s geologist one of the rocks, and he said the same thing that Carl Rodgers just said, palladium typically isn’t found in Missouri.”

  Sam calmed down, “Okay boys, but they didn’t get into the mine all by themselves. Maybe your uncle was up to no good. We are hoping to be able to get the airborne gravity system study done next week, if that shows good quantities of barite, then we can start mining in about three weeks. But I’m so disappointed in not finding a significant amount of palladium, which would have been an added bonus. A huge bonus.”