by Katie Curtis
Miranda’s eyes got even wider, and she put her hands over her mouth to contain her excitement. Her mother looked distressed though. “Two weeks in Maine? Won’t that be expensive?”
“There is no charge. The Foundation has benefactors and fundraisers that pay for the tuition. And I will be there, teaching. So I will look out for her.”
Miranda looked at her mother, and said, “Oh please mama? I would love to go!”
Maria looked at her daughter. She shifted her weight from side to side, and the look on her face was at first uncomfortable, until a softness passed over her and she sighed. “If Miss Anna will be there, I will think about it. Maine looks so pretty in pictures. Just let me think about it.” Miranda hugged her so tight she groaned.
Anna smiled. She handed her a brochure about the Foundation from her purse. “Here’s all the information you need. And I would love to have you both stay with me some weekend if you want to visit her.”
Gabriella put her hand on her mother’s arm. “That sounds so good, mama! I’ll help you look it up when we get home on the computer, ok?”
Miranda hugged her sister and her mother, and smiled at her little family. “Gracias. Te amo Mami.”
“Ok, ready for a little Georgia O’Keefe?” Anna said, as she hailed a taxi, the last notes of the music from the organ from the church fading behind them.
The next morning, Anna was just about to go for a run when she saw Genevieve had already called twice. She dialed her number as she rummaged around for socks and her running shoes. Now it wasn’t just the warmer weather that made her want to run – it was her need for therapy after breaking up with Raphael.
“Hey Gen, it’s me, Anna,” she said. “I saw you called but you didn’t leave a message.”
“Yes, honey, I wanted to tell you about your mom’s painting in the gallery. I asked Chuck to see if his source in Providence could get any more paintings, you know, to do a dual show, and when he followed up with him, he said a young man had given him that one and said he had more. He said there were several more up in Maine.”
Anna sat at her kitchen table, picking dead leaves off of an almost dead house plant she had neglected while she was gone. “What? That is crazy…did he say who this guy was?”
“She said the man’s name was Stephen something.”
Anna sat silent, her mind struck numb at the mention of her brother’s name.
“Anna, are you there?” Genevieve said. “Anna?”
“Yea, I’m here, Gen” she managed.
“Do you know who he is talking about?” Genevieve asked.
“I do. Stephen is my brother.”
“Are you serious? How come he has all your mom’s paintings?”
“He doesn’t. We were all left her paintings in her will. My sister, my brother and myself.”
“Oh, so if I happened to know the right people, I could end up finding some Therese McAllister originals is what you’re saying? Even if they already told me they didn’t know if there were any other paintings,” Genevieve sounded hopeful.
“No, what I am saying is my brother is going behind my back in violation of my uncle’s will, and someone who I was previously proud of and who I thought wouldn’t hurt a fly is in fact the same person who has totally hoodwinked me. I didn’t volunteer those paintings because they don’t just belong to me, they belong to all of us.” Anna left out the fact that she would eventually own some of them herself. She had wanted to stall on Genevieve’s idea of showing with her mother’s work.
“So you’re not happy about this news,” Genevieve said.
“Not happy.” Anna hung up the phone and paced in her kitchen. She couldn’t believe Stephen would do something so underhanded. This wasn’t like him. She had to call Marie. She couldn’t think what to do next, how to confront him or hold him accountable. Maybe Marie had some idea.
“Marie, it’s Anna, do you have a second?” she said after her sister picked up.
“Sure, what’s going on?” she said.
“Well, I just found out some really upsetting news about Stephen and I wonder what you think we should do about it. A painting showed up in the gallery this week that was one of mom’s later pieces. I remember it hanging in her gallery before she died. I know I was away at school, but I don’t think it sold and all of the pieces from that summer were sent over to Uncle Charlie’s. I feel like I saw it there but I wasn’t sure. I asked Genevieve to check on where it was from, and she said that someone named Stephen in Providence had given it to her contact there. And he said he had more where it came from, that he could get them several more pieces from a house in Maine.”
“Whoa,” Marie said, letting out a breath of air. “That is crazy. Why would he act so independently, I mean that is the opposite of what the will told us to do. Why is he selling that one without consulting us? We said we would all vote to see if someone really wanted some of them. That’s weird.”
“I know,” Anna agreed. “It seems like Stephen feels like he is the sole ambassador of mom’s art.”
“Do you want me to call him?”
“You could, although, do you think this is something we should talk about in person? I could try to drive up there this Friday.”
“That’s a good plan,” Marie said. “Seems like face to face would get the truth out of him.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll give you a call after I talk to him.” Anna slide her feet into her unlaced running shoes. She needed to go for a quick, hard run with this stress added to her list of problems.
“Ok, yes call me right after. I’m kinda worried about him now,” Marie said.
“I would be worried too if I crossed a McAllister woman. Word on the street is that we’re tough as nails. Speaking of that, how are you feeling?”
“Good, good. Everything’s fine. I’ll fill you in on some stuff after we figure out what’s going on with Stephen.” she said. Anna thought she sounded a little strange, a little evasive in her tone, but she didn’t press it. She said goodbye, and pictured Marie nestled in her house in Maine, and smiled at the thought.
Chapter 23
Anna adjusted the rear-view mirror for the third time before she slowly pulled out of the rental car lot, getting used to where the gears were, trying to follow the blue line highlighted on the GPS map. She had decided to rent a car to drive to Maine so that she could stop by Stephen’s restaurant and talk to him. She had made plans to have lunch with him and see his restaurant, and Anna was glad she would finally get to see what he had been working so hard on this past year. Right before she tried to strangle him.
As she headed over the Triboro Bridge, she saw the tall city buildings recede in the mirror. She thought of her people – Georgia, Miranda, Genevieve – somewhere in the huge sea of gray and glass. She told Georgia she would keep paying half her rent, until she found a new roommate, and she would probably come down and visit now and then, but without Raphael to pull so hard at her, she was free to spend as much time as she wanted in Maine. As she thought of Raphael, she realized leaving the city was making it final that they were done. She kept wanting to call him, to check in on him, but she knew it would just make it worse. She had hurt his pride most of all, and the only thing to heal that was for her to leave him alone.
She looked down at the GPS as she merged on to 87 North. It would be two and half hours until she was in Providence. She had a bag of almonds and a pack of gum, along with an ice coffee that was so big it barely fit in the cup holder. She had filled her trunk with clothes and art supplies and books to bring to Uncle Charlie’s house, keeping just her bedroom furniture and some clothes in her apartment for when she came to visit. She told Georgia she could keep everything else. She turned up the radio, and rolled down the windows, and felt a kind of freedom and peace seep into her bones.
It felt like no time had passed before she was taking the exit for Providence. As she pulled through the old city, flowers were blooming everywhere, and people were out walking their dogs and
children in shorts and t-shirts. She finally pulled up to the curb a few doors down from Stephan’s restaurant and attempted to parallel park, something she wasn’t very good at, ever. She tried a few times before Stephen came out of the front door.
“Want me to do it?” he asked, laughing.
“No, I got it,” Anna called out the window. It was infuriating that she had not gotten better at this than when they were teenagers. Just like her sister, her brother never let her forget that she was a bad driver.
“You’ve got parallel parking? Since when?” he teased.
Her third time was a charm and she grabbed her purse and locked the car. “I told you I had it,” she said as she walked toward him, sticking out her tongue, then she smiled and hugged her tall brother. She pulled back and took a good look at him; he was pale, as if he hadn’t been outside in the sun in months, which he probably hadn’t, and he had dark circles under his eyes like he had been up late for months, which he probably had. But his eyes were still the same Irish blue eyes, smiling and warm. He seemed his jovial self as he smiled at her, but she sensed something tightly wound in him underneath his joking exterior. “Do you want to eat here, try some dishes we are working on?” he asked.
“Sure, that sounds great, unless you’d rather relax and go somewhere else.”
“Nah, I’d love to show you around, c’mon, watch your step,” he said as they walked in the front door, which was old, huge, and painted black. The inside was gorgeous, with tall windows, tables covered in white tablecloths and chairs and booths with luxurious fabrics. There were massive chandeliers in the four quarters of the ceiling. The walls were covered with large paintings with ornate gold frames. It also had an enormous bar made out of dark wood in the center, making all four sides of the bar easy to access. It had a classic old world feel. Anna loved it.
“Wow, Stephen, this place is amazing, how did you pull all this together?” Anna asked, turning around to take in the whole floor.
“We worked with a designer some friends put us in touch with. She was expensive, but worth it, I think” he said.
“I’m so glad I’m finally here to check it out. Let’s go back to the kitchen and see what’s cooking,” Anna said, feeling like Dorothy about to see the man behind the curtain in Oz. “I’ve never been in a restaurant kitchen before, though it really should be Marie who gets to do this, she would love to see what you do every day.”
“C’mon back,” Stephen said leading the way. He took her to the open, clean work spaces and showed her the ingredients that had come in that morning and what the menu was going to look like that night based on those items. He was busy showing her a work station’s mise-en-place for a dish when a tall, dark-haired man walked in. He looked up at Stephen and looked apologetic before he spoke. “Stephen, there’s a problem with the meat order due in today,” he said. “They said it’s COD, they won’t take a check or line of credit anymore. I don’t know how you want me to handle it,” he said.
“Ok, Rudy, I’ll be right out,” Stephen said wiping his hands on the white apron he was wearing. “Excuse me one sec, Anna. Gotta take care of this,” he said. He looked so stressed; Anna could see the veins popping out of his forehead. He whipped around the corner, leaving Anna to stare at bowls of chopped shallots and capers and cherry tomatoes that she had no idea what to do with.
She heard some voices, and then Stephen was back in the kitchen, looking still stressed but taking a deep breath.
“Everything ok?” Anna asked. She hadn’t seen much of her brother lately, and she suddenly had a wave of guilt that she hadn’t checked in before this with him, seeing how much pressure he was under.
“For now, yea,” Stephen said, trying to get back to the menu. “What are you hungry for?” he asked.
He showed her how to make a simple fish dish with Tuscan flavors, tossing butter and lemon juice over a swordfish steak in the pan expertly, swirling the wine with the chunky tomatoes together while they talked like he had done it a thousand times before. She watched him plate the fish with a perfect circle of warm vegetables on a bed of polenta, and her mouth drooled. While the food was still steaming they sat down to eat.
Anna took a bite and savored the amazing flavors; the fruity acidic tomatoes mixed with the rich butter and sour lemon, bright white wine, and the sharpness of briny capers. The fish tasted so fresh, too. “Mmm, Stephen, I wish you lived closer. You can cook at my house anytime. Or maybe we can get you up to Charlie’s for a visit this summer. You can be the designated cook,” Anna said in between bites.
Stephen laughed. “Yea, I don’t know when I’ll be able to take time off from this place. I can’t really afford a sous chef right now, so it is just me and Pete running the show at the moment. He’ll be here this afternoon, but it takes both of us to pull off a dinner.”
“It’s tough, isn’t it?” Anna said as she put her fork down.
He let out a slow, deep breath. “Brutal,” he said.
“Is that why you took one of mom’s paintings and tried to sell it?” Anna asked, trying hard to be gentle.
Stephen froze and looked shocked, then remorseful. He ran his hands through his dark wavy hair with the salt and pepper temples. “How’d you find out?” he asked, looking guilty and sad.
“It sort of floated into my gallery. Of all the gin joints in all the world, right?”
“Are you kidding me?” He looked stunned. “I can’t believe that. Maybe it’s for the best. At least you know about it. Yes, I took the painting after we went to lunch the day we all read the will. I popped over there before I got on the highway and grabbed the biggest one I saw. It’s a pretty crappy thing to do and I’m not proud of it. I felt like my back was up against the wall, and right now, I’m feeling it even more. I just gave the last $600 in the register to our meat supplier, so I’m not exactly sure how to pay my bills next month unless we have a killer weekend. I’m not saying this to excuse my behavior, I’m saying it so you’ll understand and not hate me.”
“I don’t hate you Stephen. I wish I knew you were going through this stuff. Why didn’t you ask Dad or me or Marie for the money?”
“I was too humiliated. We’re Mainers, Anna. We’re proud. We work hard even if we have to clean toilets and haul trash but we bust our butts and rely on ourselves. We don’t ask for charity handouts.” He finished his fish and sat back, pressing his fingers over the bridge of his nose. “I figured if I sold one of mom’s paintings, no one would notice or I could buy it back down the road when the restaurant was finally making money. I’m so close, I just, we got in over our heads with our upfront costs, and people didn’t eat out much over the winter. I’m sure - I know - if we can get through a summer season, we’ll be a bit more established, we’ll find our clientele. They just have to venture out of their homes and walk downtown. We’ve seen it start to pick up in the last two months, it’s just that we were in the red already.” He took a sip of water and sat back. Anna watched him cross his long legs. He looked defeated. “Plus, you know what dad’s like about failing,” he said quietly.
Anna breathed out a deep sigh. “Yes, yes I do. He doesn’t take kindly to failure. But I think he would have lent you money – I think that’s different than failing. That’s helping you from failing.”
“Maybe that’s true. I guess I just thought I could handle it, not let anyone know how hard it’s been.”
“Now you’re sounding like a Goodrich. That is our manual for existing. But you know what, Stephen? I hate our manual. I want to tear it up and start over, as a family that helps each other. A family that can be a net for each other. God knows we could all use one. And I think if you check in with dad, you’ll find he feels that way too. He’s changed a lot since Uncle Charlie died.”
Anna reached into her purse, and pulled out a checkbook. She handed him a large check and asked, “Care to take on a silent partner for a little while? I mean really silent. And you can buy me out whenever you want. Or become fabulously successful and keep me o
n in gratitude. Either way is fine with me.”
Stephen looked at the check and started to get choked up. “Are you kidding me? Are you serious?”
“I’m serious. I forgot to tell you that I sold a bunch of paintings to New Yorkers for way too much money. And I have been sitting on it because I’ve been pretty busy.”
“What? Are you kidding me Anna? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” he said.
“I’m telling you now,” she said. “Remember, we’re Mainers. We do everything the silent and hard way.”
It felt so good to hug Stephen as she was leaving, and her belly felt full and warm and happy. As she drove back to Maine, she kept thinking hard about what had just happened with her brother. If only she could feel as peaceful about Raphael.
When she crossed the bridge at Bath Iron Works, the cranes rising up over the skyline like prehistoric creatures in the twilight sky, it started to dawn on her that her life was about to start over. Here in Maine. That she was coming back to stay.
She realized she was soon to be in the same place as Andrew. She still wanted to tell him that she was sorry, that she understood how much was her fault, and that she shouldn’t have blamed him for not coming after her to New York. She had no idea if he even wanted to see her again, much less hear her explain herself after she had yelled at him at the gala. But she had to try. Just like Stephen had made mistakes and owned up to them, Anna had to try to explain to Andrew how sorry she was that she had pulled them apart. How she could see now how stubborn and wrong she had been to insist he become something he wasn’t. That much she had to tell him, she decided. After that, she would have to let it be.
As the harbor where the Christina Therese was docked grew near, she could picture it. The boats and weathered docks, the rocky ledges with Maine pine trees surrounding the water like sentinels, the water spreading out at the mouth of the harbor into the wide ocean as far as the eye could see. It seemed to draw her. Perhaps it was the sea itself that pulled her. She was grateful to be home.