He couldn’t help but smile back as his heart filled with love. “That’s right, and I’ll take you to my bed every time. Remember that, wench.”
She snuggled in closer and wrapped her leg over his hip, a position that drained all the blood from his brain in favor of a more important part. His hand cupped her ass, pushing her closer to where he so desperately needed her.
“I know I’m a chicken,” she said, her eyes fixed on some point over his shoulder, “but I can’t face seeing my mom. It’s just going to ruin the whole night. I’m already queasy just thinking about it.”
He wanted to solve this problem as quickly as possible so he could solve his other throbbing problem pronto. He loosened his hold on her, leaving space between their bodies to allow for some brain function. “She’s already here in a hotel in the city.”
She stared at his chest. “How do you know?”
“She got in touch to see if she could stop by the gallery and drop off some postcards and prints of her own.” She stiffened, and he rubbed her arm, trying to soothe her pain. “I told her no, it was your showing, and only one artist would be featured.”
She blew out a breath. “Tell her she can’t come to the party.”
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
She raised her chin, finally looking him in the eye. “Yes. I don’t want her there. You never should’ve invited her.”
“But she came all this way. She really wanted to see you.”
Amber went quiet. “It’s me or her. We won’t both be there.”
He understood her reluctance, just as he understood that she needed to face her mother at some point and say whatever she needed to get off her chest. He stroked her hair, studying her, trying to think of the right words.
Her eyes snapped to his. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m fine. I turned out just fine without her.”
“I know you did. And I don’t feel sorry for you, well, I do feel bad you didn’t have your mom but…what about this? What if you meet her someplace ahead of the party? She’ll get to see you. You’ll get a chance to talk. And then you tell her not to go to the party.”
She dropped her eyes to his chest. “A pre-party preemptive move.”
“Yes.”
She bit her lip. Tears glistened in her eyes, and his chest ached in sympathy.
She looked up at him, her eyes watery. “Will you come with me?” she asked in a choked voice.
“Yes.”
She sniffled. “Can you arrange it?”
“I’ll take care of everything.”
And then she broke down in tears. He held her through big, heaving sobs until she was all cried out and sleeping peacefully in his arms. He relaxed for the first time in weeks. He’d help her through this, and then at the gallery, he’d make his big move.
~ ~ ~
Amber’s stomach was churning the next morning, and she couldn’t eat even one bite of food. Kate brought her more lukewarm chamomile tea, which did nothing to ease her nerves. How did one prepare for seeing their mother after fifteen years? She just hoped she was strong enough to get through it.
Bare had called to tell her it was all arranged. Her mother would take the train in to Clover Park. Bare was picking her up, and they’d meet at the park. It was a good plan. Somehow Bare knew, without her saying, that she didn’t want her mother at her apartment. And she didn’t want to be stuck at some restaurant where there could be an ugly scene. The park was neutral territory.
She drove to the park right off Main Street a little early, hoping sitting in the park would ease her nerves. She sat in the gazebo, their meeting place, and closed her eyes. She could hear kids playing in the small fenced-in playground. Their happy shrieks as they went down the slide, the creaky sound of the swings, the small rocking horses going back and forth. And, in brief moments of quiet, she could hear the birds in the trees. Somehow the birdsong relaxed her like nothing else. Maybe it was because it made her think of Bare.
As much as she might hate it, she still had that one little needy part of her that despite everything wanted to see her mother. Even if it was just to finally say goodbye. She hadn’t said goodbye when she was thirteen, hadn’t known it was goodbye. She’d been surly and miserable about the forced visit to her dad’s house, not knowing it was just the beginning of her misery.
But she wasn’t that miserable thirteen-year-old girl anymore. She would say a real goodbye and put the ugliness between her and her mother behind her.
A short while later, she saw Bare, his familiar loping gait walking toward her, a petite woman with red hair by his side. He raised a hand in greeting at her and smiled. She slowly raised her hand, unable to summon a smile. She stood, and then there she was, her mother, right in front of her. She seemed smaller than Amber remembered. Her hair was short and dyed red from its original blond. Her face had lines that hadn’t been there before, but she’d still know that face anywhere. She had an artist’s eye, inherited from her artist mother.
Her mother smiled tightly. “Hi, Amber. It’s good to see you.”
Amber couldn’t say the same. She felt Bare squeezing her hand, a show of support, and she managed to say something. “Hi.”
Her mom raised her arms, hesitated, then hugged Amber. Amber couldn’t hug her back. She backed away and sat on the gazebo bench.
Her mother sat a short distance away. Bare stood uncertainly.
Amber looked to Bare. “You don’t have to stay.”
He studied her. “I’ll be right over there.” He pointed to a park bench a short distance away.
She nodded. That lump was back in her throat. She really didn’t want to cry in front of her mother. She was twenty-eight years old, an adult that supported herself, she shouldn’t need anything from this woman.
“Congratulations on your gallery showing,” her mother said.
Amber swallowed. “I don’t want you there.”
“I see.”
Amber turned, seeking out Bare’s reassuring presence. He sat at an angle away from them, so he wasn’t staring, but could still see her if she signaled to him.
She turned back to her mother. Her mother’s head was bowed, and she had her hands gripped tightly in her lap.
“I’m sorry I missed seeing you grow up,” her mother said.
“That was your own fault.”
“I suppose I owe you some kind of explanation.”
“I don’t think anything can explain abandoning your only child.”
“I sent you cards.”
Amber snorted. “Wow. You’re still the same old selfish woman I remember. Even your apology is full of how you’re not to blame.”
Her mother spoke so quietly, Amber had to lean forward to hear. “Your father was suffocating me. He didn’t want an artist for a wife, he wanted someone that stood by him, smiling and nodding at stuffy faculty dinners. I was losing myself.”
“So you got a divorce. So does half the country. That doesn’t mean you move to a different continent.”
“I had to test myself, broaden my horizons, remember who I was. He remarried so quickly, and I was still just treading water. I really did intend it to be two weeks in Paris. But then I met someone, a fabulous mentor who saw greatness in me. I had to stay and see how far I could go. I was in a glorious creative period the likes of which I hadn’t felt since before you were born. I had to stay. And then I started getting gallery showings. People were buying my work. They loved me over there. How could I leave all that behind?”
“How could you leave me behind?” Amber asked, hating the way her voice came out small. “I could’ve lived in Paris with you, learned at your side. You knew I loved painting.”
“I didn’t feel like I could do both. Be a great artist and a great mother. And your dad and Maxine were doing a good job with Kate. I thought you’d be better off there.”
“And no phone calls? No visits? Nothing?”
“I thought it would be confusing for you. You had a new family. I didn’t
want you to be upset at the end of our visit.”
“So you just let me be upset all the time.”
“Your dad sent me pictures. You seemed happy.”
Tears burned her eyes. “I can smile for a picture without actually feeling happy.”
Her mother went quiet. The hard truth was it was convenient for her mother to think her daughter was happy with her new family. Her mother wanted that to be true to absolve her of any responsibility.
Amber listened to the birds and the young kids playing nearby. There was nothing left to say. Her mother didn’t have anything near resembling a good excuse for abandoning Amber. No missing limbs, no mental illness, nothing. Just having a great time as an artist in Paris.
Amber stood.
“I would still like to see your art,” her mom said.
“I’ll send you a picture,” Amber said. “I’ll even smile next to it. That should make you feel better.”
“Okay,” her mother said. “I deserve that. And if you really don’t want me there, I won’t go.”
“Thank you. I guess this is goodbye.”
Her mother stood. “I’ll be staying at a hotel in the city all week if you change your mind about seeing me.” She hesitated. “If you like, we could take in the Met or the Museum of Modern Art.”
Amber’s eyes filled at the invitation because it was far too little, far too late. “Goodbye, Mom.”
She walked straight to Bare, who jumped up and folded her into his arms. He leaned down to her ear. “Are you okay?”
She sniffled. “I will be.”
He pulled back and studied her face. “What can I do?”
“Just take her back to the train station. I’m going home. I’m exhausted.”
“Okay, love,” he said, cradling her face, wiping away a tear. “I’ll see you tonight for your big debut.”
She nodded and hurried away to her car.
~ ~ ~
After another long cry and a nap, Amber felt like she could handle the art gallery party. She might not have any commercial success as an artist, but she was proud of her work. She would walk into that gallery, head held high, and be proud.
Steph and Daisy arrived early, so they could all get ready together. Daze had said she’d drive them all to the city and be their designated driver.
Daze handed her some funky feather earrings to go with her favorite little black dress. Her friend wore a maternity dress with her hair up and a few tendrils hanging down. Steph was attempting to do something with Kate’s hair. Even through all of Kate’s protests about looking ridiculous while Steph used a curling iron on her hair, Steph kept smiling. Amber was becoming suspicious.
“Steph, stop that insane smiling,” Amber said. “You look like one of those creepy clowns.”
Steph laughed. “I’m just happy. It’s a party in your honor!”
Amber slid some chunky silver bracelets on. “I’m not sure why that makes you smile so much, but okay.”
Steph hid another smile.
“I’m gonna smack that smile off your face in a minute,” Amber threatened.
Steph ducked behind Kate.
“This was really nice of Barry,” Daze said from the bed, where she was now stretched out, lounging on the pillows. “I’ll say one thing about him. When he sets his mind to something, he goes big. Did you guys see the crazy tricycle races at last summer’s street fair?”
“I missed last summer’s street fair,” Amber said.
“Me too,” Steph said. “What happened?”
Daze’s eyes danced with laughter. “Barry took over the lead, led the kids on a merry chase, and nearly knocked over the tent.”
Amber could picture that perfectly.
“And his shop,” Daze said. “The way he goes all-out as the cow? The way he went all-out as a pirate?”
Amber slowly turned. “I feel like you guys are trying to tell me something. Is Bare going all-out in some way I need to be prepared for?”
“Absolutely not,” Kate said. “We would never say that.”
“Why wouldn’t you say that?” Amber asked. “Did Bare swear you to secrecy?”
Kate stepped away from Steph and fluffed her hair. Only half of it was curled. “Well, I’m all ready. Excuse me while I seek out an appropriate color lipstick for such an event.”
Her sister’s speech always became more formal when she was nervous. Kate quickly left. Her sister didn’t even wear lipstick. Amber narrowed her eyes at Steph and then Daze.
Steph and Daze exchanged a look.
“Tell me,” Amber said.
Steph put an arm around her shoulders. “Relax, this is your night. You are the star.”
“You’re scaring me,” Amber said.
Daze sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “You know how Bare was a swashbuckling pirate and dipped you and kissed you in front of everyone?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s sorta like that,” Daze said. “Nothing bad. I promise. And if you don’t want to kiss him”—she waved a hand in the air—“just slap him across the face and say ‘fresh!’”
Amber giggled. “All right.”
A short while later, they headed outside, and Amber stopped short. A black limo was waiting with a uniformed chauffeur.
“Ladies,” the man said, opening the back door. “I’m Ken. I’ll be your driver this evening.”
Kate pushed her forward. “Come on. It’s for us.”
She couldn’t believe Bare had rented them a limo for their ride into the city. “Is Bare in there?”
Kate shook her head. “He and Ian went early to set up.”
“Let’s go!” Steph said, charging ahead.
They got inside, where champagne was chilling along with a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries. She felt herself melting. He really did go big. And he’d apologized. More than once. And that sweet equation, and the way he’d been there for her with her mom.
“Mmm…” Daze said. “Hand me one of those strawberries. I’ve got such a craving.”
They drank champagne, except for Daisy on account of her pregnancy, and devoured the strawberries. By the time they arrived, Amber was in high spirits.
She stepped into the gallery and gasped. Even knowing it was a party and not an actual showing, the effect of seeing her paintings framed and hanging on the gallery’s walls like a real artist’s work was amazing. Phenomenal. Dream-come-true life-changing moment.
She felt shaky all of a sudden. “Guys…” She grabbed Steph’s arm. “Walk with me. I want to see them all.”
“This is amazing,” Daze said. “Look at the gorgeous black frames.”
And the matting.
And the tuxedoed waiters.
A waiter arrived at their side with a platter full of coconut shrimp. They all took one. Amber glanced around. She saw her father and her stepmother, the cast of The Pirates of Penzance huddled together, some friends from work, Ian, but where was Bare? Where was the man behind this crazy event? The man she loved with all her heart. She suddenly wanted to see him desperately.
Her dad and stepmother approached. “Congratulations,” Maxine said. “Your father and I are impressed.”
“Your work is quite prolific,” her dad said, which Amber figured was the best compliment she’d ever get from someone who thought art was a waste of time.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Kate, have you been satisfied with your time with Amber?” Maxine asked.
“Yes, Mom,” Kate replied.
Amber wasn’t sure if they were talking about the visit, her no longer virginal status, or her studies. She always felt confused with her family.
“Your mother wanted to see you,” her dad said, sounding almost apologetic.
Amber took a deep breath. “I saw her. I said goodbye. She won’t be coming tonight.”
“Oh,” her dad said. “I guess that’s for the best. If that’s what you want.”
“That’s what I want,” she said firmly.
She smiled. “Where is he?”
“He was looking at your paintings,” Maxine said. “I’m sure he’s still around.”
She turned to her friends. “Should we look at the paintings?”
“Lead the way,” Steph said.
They walked to the first painting. Her favorite, the dragon. She smiled. She’d missed this painting. She should’ve kept it on her wall at home.
“I really like this one,” Kate said. “Can I buy it?”
“I think I might buy it back,” Amber said. “I miss it.”
They moved on to the next several paintings. She felt like she was greeting old friends. Hello, red and black abstract. Hello, angsty painting from my past. Hello, flames on clouds. Steph and Daze kept up a steady stream of chatter, complimenting her, making her feel less self-conscious about her gallery showing being arranged by her boyfriend. It was nice to share her art with all of her family and friends. But she still hadn’t seen the man behind it all.
She turned to Kate. “Do you see Bare?”
Kate looked all around. “No, but I know he’s here. I’m sure we’ll see him soon. He was very busy getting set up for this event.”
They reached the end of a hallway in front of a series of three paintings. A small white card held the title and artist. It was Elation. The first painting had polka dots exploding, the second bouncing marshmallows, the third a serene sunset. It was very different from her usual work, whimsical and more naturalistic. She remembered painting it right after selling her first painting on eArt. She’d been elated. Ignorantly so, but still. The feeling behind it had been real.
“I don’t get it,” Kate said.
“It’s fun,” Daze said.
“I like the sunset,” Steph said.
“It perfectly captures emotion,” a woman’s voice said. Amber turned. It was Delilah.
“Hello, darling,” Delilah said, kissing Amber on both cheeks. “How much for the series?”
“Oh, this is a private collection,” Amber said. “For display only.”
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars,” Delilah said.
“Sold!” Kate said with a quick jab to Amber’s ribs.
Delilah smiled. “Wonderful! I own a small gallery in South Norfolk. I’m going to look around. See what else catches my eye.”
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