by Silke Ming
“Yes, thank you,” the young girl replied.
She remained on the first level to allow Seamus to create without looking over his shoulder. Secondly, she wanted him to know that she trusted him. She knew what Rachel had said about wanting to get him into bed, but that had all been cleared up and the young girl no longer posed a threat.
It was close to three hours, and it was very quiet upstairs. Neither of them spoke. She knew that when he was concentrating, he didn’t converse with anyone. Still, there was that gnawing feeling. Didn’t she trust him? She wasn’t sure. She knew he promised never to disappoint her again, but she also knew that an erect penis didn’t have a conscience. She could take it no longer and decided to go up to the studio, using the excuse that she had not yet catalogued the paintings. She was surprised at what she saw. Rachel lay nude on the divan, and her painting was almost finished.
“So what do you think?” he asked her.
“It’s almost done,” she said, staring at the canvas.
“What do you think?”
“That’s really Rachel,” she said. “It shows her personality. It shows her love of life and the happiness she gets from her youth.”
He stared at her.
“You’ve become quite an expert.”
“I’m learning from the best.”
“I see what you mean. I can see the joy around her eyes,” he said, staring at Rachel. “I’ve totally captured her.”
“Can I get you both something to eat or drink?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Rachel. “I am very thirsty.”
“What about you, Seamus?”
“Something cold,” he replied, once again focused on the painting on the easel.
She returned with two large glasses of juice.
“Give Rachel a break,” she said, handing him a glass.
The young girl covered herself with a sheet and drank her juice.
“I didn’t know there was another room back there,” she said.
Summer watched him squirm as he contemplated his answer.
“Do you see how observant you are,” said Seamus. “That room has been there ever since this house was built.”
“Strange! I never saw it,” said the young girl, putting her glass down.
Five hours into the sitting, Seamus decided they both needed a break and should call it day.
“When should I come back?” Rachel asked.
“When are you free?”
“On Tuesday and Wednesday, but I can switch with someone else if that’s not good for you. Just let me know ahead of time.”
“On Tuesday morning around ten?” he asked.
A different Rachel bounced down the stairs as Seamus watched her disappear.
“There is something different about her,” he said.
“She is growing up,” Summer replied.
“What are we going to do with the rest of the day?” he asked.
“Go for a drive? Go out to dinner?”
“Excellent idea!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
They were now two years into their relationship and life couldn’t have been better for Seamus and Summer as they seemed to find the peace they so longed for. The summer had ended, and so had the fall, and the brisk winds of winter started to blow. There was, however, something which was bothering her, something which rested heavily on her mind. Seamus was beginning to receive phone calls on his cell phone and always move away to carry on his conversation. She didn’t and couldn’t understand it. Suddenly he seemed to be keeping secrets from her, but she knew she had to keep on trusting him.
One day while she was paying the bills, she noticed that he had paid a check to a Henri Thompson for three thousand one hundred dollars. Since she paid all the bills, she wondered why he had written the check himself and had not told her about it. She checked the previous month and noticed there had also been a check for the same amount to the same payee. She checked even further back, but could find no other payments. Whatever he was involved in was something which had recently begun. She began to look at him with different eyes. He had promised to be honest and forthright with her, but she believed he was hiding something.
Time was fast approaching for the show in Miami, and Rachel’s painting was already finished and had taken its place among the exhibits. He had named it Innocence even though it was the painting of a nude girl. Millie’s painting was also chosen and given the title Mother Ireland.
They would be leaving for Miami in eight days and were both excited at the prospect of spending ten days in the glorious Florida sunshine, while Millie would be taking care of the home during their absence.
“When are you coming back?” asked Millie as she served them breakfast early one morning.
“On the twenty-fifth,” said Seamus.
“Do you plan to have another show soon?”
“We are taking a break,” said Seamus, reaching forward and holding Summer’s hand.
“Do I hear wedding bells?” the housekeeper asked.
Seamus said nothing, but one could see that the woman had stepped into forbidden territory. Now there was absolute silence in the kitchen, and Millie, realising her error, disappeared with a broom in her hand.
“Who filled her head with such nonsense?” he asked.
“I didn’t. And if I did, I see nothing wrong with what she said,” she said, getting up and leaving him alone.
He stared after her and then disappeared inside his studio and closed the door. She couldn’t understand why such a simple sentence should’ve thrown him into such a foul mood. She thought it must have something to do with Henri Thompson.
“Did I say something wrong?” asked Millie, looking around the corner before she entered the room.
“He went to the Sistine Chapel,” said Summer, too embarrassed to look the woman in the face.
“You must find out what’s bothering him,” said Millie. “Some men are afraid of marriage, and it usually has something to do with their past. Have you met his mother?”
“He doesn’t know her.”
“You are young. Have you two ever talked about marriage?”
“Never,” she said, slipping into thought.
That was strange. They had known each other for just two years and he had proclaimed his undying love for her. He wanted her all to himself, but the word marriage had never been mentioned. Not that she was desperate to walk down the aisle, but why did he seem so annoyed when Millie mentioned the word?
She decided to check out the name Henri Thompson on the Internet. She couldn’t find anyone with the name, but she did find a Henrietta Thompson, a female, but thought the two had no connection. She checked the name nevertheless. Henrietta was a detective, specialising in finding lost relatives. She turned off the computer. If Seamus was using her services, who could he be searching for? Was he searching for his mother? She doubted that because he said when he needed a mother, he didn’t have one, and now that he was an independent man, there wasn’t the need for one. She eliminated all the possibilities and was still at a loss. Perhaps she had chosen the wrong Henri Thompson.
Later that afternoon, Seamus came down the stairs and sheepishly sat down beside her.
“I’m sorry about this morning. I overreacted.”
“But why?” she asked. “Millie made a simple statement and you blew your top.”
“I’m sorry. I will apologize to her.”
“I think I’m the one you ought to be apologizing to,” she said. “You made me look small in front of Millie, but I will tell you that I’m in not in a hurry to marry anyone, especially you.”
“You don’t mean that, do you? You know I love you, and I want to marry you.”
“Then why are you behaving as if marrying me is the last thing you would think of doing?”
“I am sorry. It was not my intention to belittle you or to hurt you, especially in front of Millie. Please forgive me,” he said with pleading eyes.
“Well, just don’t let i
t happen again,” she said. “I am going for a walk. I’ve been cooped up for most of the day.”
“When will you be back?” he asked, following her.
“I won’t stay away for long.”
“So is Millie really annoyed with me?”
“I don’t know. She was rather quiet all day. She probably thought she had caused problems between us.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “I’ll apologize to her tomorrow. Know what? I think I’ll go on that walk with you.”
It was a rather bleak day, and the water was stormy and the waves were crashing onto the shore. As far as the eye could see, the wonderful fall colors of brown, yellow, orange, and red fluttered in the trees. The beach was empty except for another couple walking toward them. They were the neighbours who lived a little farther down the road, Steven and Ida Ketchum. Seamus introduced Summer to them, and they chatted for a while before parting.
“I see them about three times a year. At Christmas, Steven’s birthday, and my birthday,” he said, staring out into the grey sky.
“They seem like an odd couple.”
“They are, but they probably think the same thing about me,” he replied.
They kept on walking and talking until they were interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He answered and turned around, walking in the direction they had just come. Summer waited until his conversation was over, and he rejoined her. He said nothing but put his arm around her shoulders and continued walking.
It was getting colder, and the phone call had tempered her enthusiasm for walking, so she decided she should return to the house. They cleared the mailbox at the entrance of the driveway and walked slowly up to the entrance. She sat on the sofa and watched as he flipped through the newspaper.
“Would you pass me the classified ads?” she asked.
He handed them to her, and she unconsciously turned the pages with the want ads. Boston University was looking for someone with her credentials to fill an opening. She decided to apply. She thought she should have a backup if things didn’t work out between her and the temperamental Seamus Balsam.
After dinner, they sat on the sofa sipping wine and listening to his favorite singer, Lionel Richie, with his soft and moving melodies. He stood up and held out his hand to her. He held her close and they danced in each other’s arms.
“We’ll be in Miami at this time next week,” he said. “I can’t wait to be there.”
“Did you forget to ask me to make descriptions of each painting?”
“No I didn’t forget. I know you are quite capable.”
“Are you trying to say I wasn’t capable before?”
“You are turning my words around, Summer. I didn’t know you that well, but now I know I can close my eyes and count on you.”
“Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment. By the way, there is a position at a Boston University, and I have decided to apply for it.”
“You did what?” he asked, almost shouting.
“I intend on applying for the position,” she said hesitantly. “I am just testing the waters. I want to know what my chances are out there.”
“There is no need for you to do that, Summer. I will give you everything you want.”
“I worked hard to get my degrees, Seamus. Just like you worked hard to be where you are today!”
“It’s not the same,” he said.
“I don’t see what’s different. I never said I would take the position if they offered it to me. I just want to know what my chances are.”
“Damn,” he said, as the telephone started to ring.
He picked it up and spoke to the caller.
“That was Fred Podesta. He said he and Lana are both coming to the exhibition in Miami.”
“Marvellous,” she said in a sarcastic manner.
“No need to worry about them,” he said. “I have spoken to them about us, so there will be no more misunderstandings. I just don’t understand why you think you must work. What are you trying to prove?”
“That I am an independent person!”
“You are an independent person,” he said, pacing up and down. “I just don’t understand anything anymore.”
She stared at him and walked away. She climbed the stairs and went to bed. He turned the music off and followed her upstairs. He called her name, but she did not reply. There were no proclamations of love as each slept on their respective sides of the bed.
As the week went by, things returned to normal as they became totally involved with the preparations for the upcoming show.
* * * *
Sunday arrived and the suitcases were packed and waiting at the door for the limousine to arrive. Summer walked out in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a sweater. She wore a pair of big, hooped earrings and a scarf loosely tied around her neck.
“You look so delicious,” he said, kissing her.
“Thank you. Don’t forget your coat,” she said as the doorbell rang.
After an hour and a half drive, they arrived at the airport and were soon seated on their flight to Miami.
“As much as I like the winter, I am happy to be leaving this damp, dismal weather behind,” he said. “How about you?”
“Fall doesn’t bother me. It’s what follows that I don’t like.”
“And what’s that?”
“Winter,” she said with a shudder.
After an uneventful flight to Miami, they were happy to be back on the ground. They held hands and they laughed, delighting in each other’s company. After they picked up their bags, they walked out of the arrivals door where they found the limo waiting for them. Thank heavens for air-conditioned comfort! The heat was stifling. It was, however, a beautiful scenic drive from the airport to the hotel in Coral Gables, which they would call home for the next ten days. On the way, they passed many stately homes built in the Spanish style. There were boutiques, restaurants, and many hotels, lining both sides of the street, and beyond they could also see many of the beautiful beaches of Miami.
“You’ve chosen well,” he whispered in her ear when the bellhop picked up their cases from the limousine, and they walked into the imposing lobby of the hotel.
There was no mix-up like in New York City. This time they were sharing a room together, and this was the perfect venue to spend their time together.
“Welcome, Mr. Balsam,” said the receptionist. “There are a few messages here for you,” she said, handing him a couple envelopes.
“Thank you.”
“Enjoy your stay,” she said, smiling at them both.
“What a view!” Summer proclaimed as she stood at the window, staring at the ocean in the distance.
“Look what we’ve got,” he said, looking at the fruit basket, the chocolates and the ice bucket with the bottle of champagne.
“Let’s celebrate,” he said, hugging her. “First we’ll go out for dinner and look around the city. Then we will return here, and the rest is left up to the imagination.”
“Let me think,” she said, tapping two fingers on the window ledge.
“And have you thought of anything yet?” he asked, handing her a glass of champagne.
“Nothing yet, but after a couple glasses of this, I may have many ideas.”
“I like that.”
“Have you read the messages?”
“I forgot about them,” he said, putting his glass down and picking the envelopes up. “This is from the gallery, and this one is from Liam.”
“How did he know we are staying here?”
“I spoke to him yesterday, and he asked me where I was staying.”
“Is he here in this hotel?”
“I don’t think so. He said he will call later.”
Summer was now in a rush to get out of the hotel. She had no desire to spend her time in the company of a man she did not trust.
“He asked about the paintings in the show, and I told him about the ‘Curious Trio,’” he said.
“Does that mean he will have three more
paintings of me on display in his home?”
“You said I should put them in the show,” he said. “If you don’t want them there, I will remove them before opening night.”
“It’s just that I didn’t think he would be interested, since he had already paid so much for Rachel’s painting. He thinks it’s me, and he makes no bones about how he feels about me.”
“Then I’ll take them out of the show,” he said adamantly.
“Don’t do that. They could bring you a small fortune.”
“For heaven’s sake, Summer, should I or should I not remove them from the show?”
“Why are you so angry with me?”
“I’m not, Summer. I am sorry if I raised my voice.”
“Leave them in the show,” she finally said.
They went out to dinner at a Spanish restaurant. They were greeted and seated in a cosy corner, where they had a great vantage point of the two Flamenco dancers performing on stage. The woman moved across the floor, stomping her heels while her suitor followed closely behind, touting his manhood. When the dance was over, the patrons applauded and they returned to the stage and bowed gracefully. The entertainment continued as a Mariachi band moved from table to table, entertaining the guests. When they reached Seamus’s table, their sole interest was Summer. She looked up at the singer and smiled. Seamus couldn’t take his eyes off her. The light played on her face, and he thought of how lucky he was to have the most beautiful woman on earth as his.
You are all mine, he thought as he smiled at her. I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel.
Dinner was over and they walked back to the hotel. There was another message waiting for Seamus. It was from Liam O’Shea.
Sorry I missed you. Thought we could have had dinner together. Call me at 321-1777…Liam.
“What are we going to do now? Have you any ideas?” he asked, closing the door behind them.
“I hadn’t given it much thought, Seamus.”
“I have,” he said, quickly undressing. “Take your clothes off.”
He opened his briefcase and removed a drawing pencil and a sheet of paper which had been folded in four.
“Lie on the bed.”