From Dream to Destiny

by Caddy Rowland

  “I am twenty-three. I will be twenty-four in November. Now as for what I love to paint, I think I might have my first fan! Because, Sophie, I definitely want to show people something different.”

  She leaned forward in interest. “How so?”

  “Right now I will paint just to show color. Other times I paint texture. Or shape. Do you get what I mean?”

  “I think so…the color or the texture, for example, would be the whole reason for the painting; not a particular subject that the eye can put another name on. It would be blue, for instance, but not a blue building.”

  “Oui! That is it exactly! I am hoping to paint the sound of color, the texture of music someday. I just haven’t figured out how to do it yet. After that, I want to push it even further; show only the energy of an object, color, or texture.”

  “Amazing! I want to see your work sometime!”

  “You will. Sometime. When you do, keep in mind that I am not to the sound of color or the energy yet. I will get there, though; or die trying to.”

  “Your work obviously means a lot to you.”

  He looked at her seriously. “It is everything to me, Sophie. It is, and always will be, my greatest love. Always. I will never, ever, do something that will take me away from it. That is something that you need to always remember.”

  “You love it that much?”

  “It is not just a question of love. It is a question of survival for me. I AM art, Sophie. I live it, and I breathe it. I can’t step back and live a normal life, because that would kill me. I have no choice. It is why I am here.”

  She reached out and put her hand on his. “Then paint it, Gastien. Paint it.”

  He smiled at her, leaving his hand on the table with hers on top.

  After a few minutes, he asked, “Would you like something to drink?”

  They ordered vin. Once it came, he looked at her quietly.

  “I will paint it, you know. And, because of my dedication to art, there are certain things that you have to understand about me. That way, if you decide to get to know me better, you will know what you are getting into.”

  He hesitated. Sophie just looked at him, waiting.

  “I do not ever want a wife and family, Sophie. I am not an artist because it is fun. I am obsessed with it. Many times I have painted forty-eight or more hour’s straight, using candlelight or lanterns when darkness comes. When I get into that special place, I stay as long as I need to. There is no tolerance for interruption while there. I don’t eat. I don’t sleep, unless I fall asleep on the floor for an hour by mistake. Other people making noise or talking to me during that time cause me great distress emotionally. During the times that I am in that special world I must be completely alone.”

  Gastien stopped to gather his thoughts. He noticed that Sophie was quietly waiting for him to continue.

  “Additionally, I would never move out of my studio. It has cost me everything. Nor would I want a wife and family living there with me. It is one, big open room. One can’t paint portraits for people with children running around and bawling. There are wet paintings and strong solvents all over the place. Not only would a child be a danger to my paintings, the solvents would be a danger to them. I repeat this again, just in case you are thinking you would like a romance with me: I will not ever have a wife and family in my studio, and I will never leave it.”

  He watched her face. She still appeared to just be listening. What he had to say next would likely put an end to their having any relationship.

  “I also do not believe in monogamy. I love sex almost as much as I love painting; it is a very big part of me. The drive seems to be much stronger in me than for most. Even if I were to fall in love, which I doubt I am capable of, it would be very easy for me to separate sex from love. Sex is sex. I suppose sex with someone you are in love with is wonderful. But sex – just raw sex – is wonderful, too.”

  Sophie was blushing, but did not look like she was ready to bolt. Wait until she hears this next part, Gastien thought.

  “Sometimes I have sex with more than one woman at a time. Oui, it is unconventional. I don’t care. I enjoy the pleasure it gives me. I don’t ever plan on giving up women for anyone. Being an artist, I very often think with my emotions. Being a man, I very often think with my bite. Both ways of thinking work for me.”

  He turned her hand over in his, and held it. “I am finally happy with my lifestyle, and have no plans on threatening that happiness. Again, my reasons for telling you these things are not to shock or hurt you. If you want to know me, you need to know how I live my life.”

  “Others have probably told you some of this. I could care less what other people say about me, but want you to know that whatever you have heard about me in that department is most likely true.”

  Gastien shrugged. “So, in short, I value my freedom very highly. Painting, sex, and freedom are essentials for me. There were also some very awful things that happened in my past. I will not discuss those things with anyone. Ever. What I will say is that I did not hurt anyone, nor did I break the law. End of subject.”

  He paused and took a drink of his vin.

  “I am definitely not a good catch. If what I have told you sounds cold, I am sorry. I don’t mean to be selfish, but after spending the first twenty years of life living through one hell after another, I have no desire to threaten the happiness I have finally earned. It is safe inside of me, so I live there most of the time. I can’t change who I am at the core.”

  He took a deep breath. Now comes the hardest part, he thought.

  “If you are looking for a traditional romance, you deserve much better than me; I hope you find that. If you want fidelity or convention I can’t give those to you, nor will I pretend that I would. I don’t even know if I can give you love. I have seen so little of it, and so much ugliness, that I very much doubt that I have the capacity to let go and feel any deep love. If you are smart, you will simply be my amie. Find someone else to fall in love with. You will end up hurt if you choose me, and I don’t want that.”

  There. He had warned her. If she was smart, she would get up and walk away.

  Sophie just looked at him for a few minutes, sipping her vin. This man had truly been damaged in the past. She wondered what kind of horrors he had experienced.

  His eyes told a different story than his voice. They spoke of a hunger; of a need to be loved. They spoke of a hurt, wondering why people had chosen to show him the opposite. They spoke of a desperate need to feel that someone, somewhere, found him valuable; worth loving. They also spoke of a strong doubt that it would ever happen; because, most of all, his eyes told her that he did not believe he was worth it.

  It was Sophie’s turn to speak.

  “Gastien, merci. I am beginning to understand what makes you tick. Would you like to know about my traits?”

  Gastien tipped his head in acknowledgement. Here it comes, he thought, here comes the confession about how she wants that old cliché: a knight in shining armor to sweep her off her feet; make her happy ever after in a little home with lots of children.

  Sophie sat down her vin. Sitting up straight, she spoke earnestly.

  “I may be little, but I am strong. Most people make the mistake of thinking I am otherwise. I can go through, and accept, quite a lot. I believe that people should be true to themselves. If that means they are unconventional, then so be it. I could – and would –accept that in a man, as long as he did not lie to me.”

  Sophie calmly looked at Gastien, who wore a look of surprise. She continued on.

  “Because, you see, another thing about me is that I can’t stand a liar. I would rather know someone was going to do something that I may not like than have it done behind my back. Two traits that describe me are open-minded and fun. I am curious about all that life has to offer. That includes sex. It seems women get little say in regard to that. In my opinion, something that intimate should be fun. I am not interested in how other women feel about it, nor do I care if men
think I should not need to enjoy it. If a man feels that way, then he is simply not my type. The only person that kind of man is interested in is himself.”

  Now Gastien looked even more surprised.

  Sophie confessed, “Growing up, I always assumed that I would have a husband and children; live a conventional life. That is what I was always told. Then I grew up. I now realize that if love comes you grab it, regardless of what package it comes in, or what others think. When I fall in love, I will fall completely. I would be able to accept anything about a man that I loved, except lies or deliberate cruelty. If a man hurt me physically, I would do my best to find a way to kill him.”

  Gastien nodded in agreement. He could certainly relate.

  “So, Gastien, your requirements do not frighten me at all. First of all, I don’t know if I will end up in love with you. It appears that is happening, but I am willing to take it slow. Anything real will last while we decide if we also like each other. More importantly, we both need to know that we can trust each other. Secondly, I think you place too much value on what has happened to you in the past. That is over. All you have is today.”

  It was her turn to sit back and take a sip of vin.

  He looked at her with respect. “Is that all of your secrets?”

  Sophie raised her brows. “We were not talking about secrets. We were talking about personality traits and what we need to be happy.”

  “So, what is your biggest secret?” Gastien challenged.

  She laughed softly. “I don’t think I should tell you.”

  “Oh, come on. We are baring souls here,” he challenged again.

  She stared at him a moment, then decided to just say it.

  “Fine. You want frankness? How about this? I really want to know what you look like naked.”

  She blushed brightly. Had she really said that?

  Gastien blinked, looking at her in surprise.

  “That is your biggest secret? Wanting to know how I look naked?”

  Sophie nodded. “Oui, right now I think it is. And I can’t believe I told you that!”

  Gastien looked away, occupying himself with taking a drink. He could not stop grinning.

  “Don’t look so pleased, Gastien. After all, I have never seen a man naked. It could be just a natural curiosity,” she chided.

  “Well, you must admit, that is a pretty heady comment. It gives me much pleasure.”

  She laughed. “Mon Dieu, you are vain!”

  She reached out and touched his face. She then realized how forward that was. She quickly pulled her hand away.

  “Gastien, be fair. What is yours?” she asked.

  “My what?” he asked innocently.

  She reached across the table and socked him in the chest.

  “You’re biggest secret, of course – other than your dark past.”

  He stared at her, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the heat. Looking once again into her eyes, he smiled lazily.

  “I do believe my biggest secret is that I would like to show you.”

  They couldn’t break eye contact. The two of them sat silent, each realizing that it was going to be very difficult to go slow.

  Finally Sophie said, “Oh! The poor cabriolet driver – “

  “I told him to leave if he saw you sit down, Sophie. He is gone.”

  Gastien was still holding her hand. He let go and brought his hand back to his side. Things needed to cool down. The last thing he wanted to do was seduce her. But, she pulled at him so…it could not hurt to really get to know each other and, at the very least, become close amis. He raised his eyes, questioning, waiting for her to speak.

  Sophie continued the question game. “Next question. What are your biggest weaknesses?”

  Gastien did not hesitate.

  “Easy. Hashish and women.”

  They both laughed.

  “You use a lot of hashish?”

  “Oui. I have some pain, so most days I use at least a little. Some days are worse. And, some days I use a lot because I like getting extremely high. It makes me see things in even better ways for my art.”

  “I have never tried it,” she confessed.

  “Would you ever like to?” he asked.

  “Perhaps. I don’t know.”

  “Also, I am not very logical. Sometimes I can force myself to think things through, but mostly I live in a world of emotion and sensation. I think most artists are that way. Oh, and I don’t feel comfortable with men that are not artists. It is not that I feel that I am better than them or that they are better than me. I just always feel like I am from a different world than they are. So, I am not strong in being able to socialize in most situations that others would call common.” He stopped. “Your turn. Greatest weaknesses?”

  Sophie laughed. “Chocolate. Artists that wear funny pants and are afraid to fall in love.”

  He grinned at her. “Lucky me.”

  “Oui, lucky you. I also love books.”

  “Me too! My mother was a teacher. Even though we lived on a farm, she stressed the importance of reading.”

  “Oui. Books take you anywhere you care to go. One can get lost for hours at a time.” She grew sober. “One more category, if you don’t mind.”

  “Go on.”

  “Greatest fears. I will go first. I am afraid I won’t be taken seriously, or that I will be overlooked when decisions are made because I am so small. People tend to think I have the intellect of a child, just because I am little. I may only be 4’ 10”, but that has not affected my brain! Dying without experiencing a great, passionate love is another fear of mine, along with never having a child.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe, again, it is because I am so small! I don’t know where a baby would fit in me!”

  Gastien smiled at her gently. “There are many small women that have children. I hope that you get your wish. But, if so, then I doubt I am going to be your great love, hmm?”

  “Who knows, Gastien? I know you don’t want children or a wife. So, maybe you won’t be …or maybe I can’t have them, and that is why I am attracted to you!” She leaned forward. “Your turn.”

  Gastien drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

  “Mon Dieu. This is hard for me!” He paused; then admitted, “I am afraid something will happen to my hands, so that I can no longer paint.”

  Sophie reached over and stroked his fingers. “That makes sense for a painter.”

  “Oui. That would kill me. There is a deep fear in me that my freedom to live as I wish will be taken away. The worst fear is that people will find out things from my past and judge me, without understanding the reasons behind the decisions I made. Because of that, falling in love would be unfair to the other person.” He sighed. “Honestly, I don’t think I can open my heart up like that anyway. I just don’t think I am capable. Too much has happened to me.”

  “Gastien, what has closed your heart so badly?”

  “I spent the first eighteen years of my life being beaten and kicked by my father. Some of those beatings were horrendous. All because I wanted to paint and draw, instead of farming. He also mentally abused me most of the time. After a while, you just shut off for protection. I have opened up tonight more than I ever have, and it has been frightening. I know it shouldn’t be. But it is.”

  He held up his hands. “Look, my hands are shaking.” He looked away in embarrassment.

  “Well, then, that is progress. Someday you will love someone as much as you can. The person you love will have to understand and accept that.”

  He made a derisive noise. “Somehow I can’t see any woman doing either.”

  “Are you like all men, Gastien?”

  He looked at her in surprise.

  “Hell, no! Do I seem like most men to you?”

  “Then what gives you the right to lump all women together?” she challenged.

  That gave him pause.

  “Good point.”

  He picked up her hand and brought it to his face, kissing it
tenderly. “I wish I could offer you better, Sophie. I really do.”

  They sat simply staring at each other, neither wanting to look away.

  All of a sudden, Sophie noticed that dawn was starting to arrive.

  “It is dawn! Oh my! I am going to be so tired! I will probably fall asleep in church.”

  Gastien smiled sadly. “There is another difference, Sophie. I don’t believe.”

  “I can understand why. I don’t always, either. But I go, because I hope. That may not be a good reason, but it is mine.”

  Gastien stood. “Let’s see if we can find a driver around with his cabriolet. You need to get home.”

  Soon Gastien stood watching as Sophie was taken down the road.

  Shivering, he thought, I must be very careful or I could end up caring. That just could not happen. He did not want to see her hurt.

  XVII

  The summer was spent with Sophie and Gastien getting to know each other. They sat talking many nights after she was done with work, which forced Gastien to move his hours back a little in order to get some sleep. They also took long walks on her days off, when Gastien did not have patrons. They would eat at small cafes and spend time looking for various treasures in shops.

  He had her over to his studio in June to see his paintings, making sure Mic, Cassie, and Vic were there, too. It would not do to be alone with her there. The bed was too easy to get to. Sophie was thrilled to finally get to see Gastien’s paintings and was very impressed with his work.

  The many paintings he had done of her were moved out to the back storage area. It would be embarrassing to have her know how much he painted her. There was just one left out for her to see. The whole canvas was a riot of curls in various hues of brown and gold, without a face or head. The gold hues shimmered like the sun was hitting them. When she came to it, she stopped. As she looked at it, tears filled her eyes. She knew!

  Smiling at her, he asked, “What do you think, Petite Oiseau?”

  “I think,” she said, “that you made me look more beautiful than I ever have.”

  They spent about three hours looking at paintings. Sophie had lots of comments and questions. She wanted to know about how he did that, or what he was thinking of when he did this. Never did she ask, “What is it?” She was simply curious as to what moved him to show what he painted. Gastien was thrilled. She understood him!