With the art students gone, the small portrait gallery I entered was silent and empty. I saw movement to my right. My feet froze midstride.
The room wasn’t empty, after all.
I approached him slowly. He stood in front of my favorite painting by the Nigerian artist of the young girl. He looked rugged and handsome, wearing jeans and a dark gray shirt that made his light eyes seem to glow by contrast. His stare never wavered off my face as I stopped a few feet away from him.
“I thought they’d never leave,” Evan said, nodding in the direction where the kids had just exited. “Or that you’d never come,” he added after a pause.
“You were waiting for me?”
“I thought maybe you’d come today and see her before you went back to Half Moon Bay. I took a chance,” he said, nodding in the direction of the painting of the girl.
Neither of us spoke for a moment. I had the sudden uncomfortable and yet poignant feeling that Evan knew why I’d come to see the painting before I left. I missed what the girl in the portrait represented.
I missed that innocent part of myself.
“I thought maybe you’d come to my showing,” I said, my voice sounding brittle. Seeing him standing there had been a kick to the gut. I knew that Tommy had been in contact with Evan. I had no doubt that he’d told Evan about my exhibition. I’d been jumpy at the showing the entire time, half-convinced that I’d turn and see Evan’s tall form, his steady, all-seeing stare on me. When it became clear he wasn’t coming, I’d resigned myself to a disappointed calm.
Now he stood just feet away, and my calm had disappeared.
“Tommy let me see the showing the night before,” Evan said. He saw my expression and put up a hand in a halting gesture. “Don’t be mad at him. I talked him into it. I wanted to see it. V
ery much. I wanted to see you, too. More so than the paintings. A lot more,” he added with a small smile. “But I figured a crowded showing wouldn’t be an ideal meeting. I thought you’d be nervous enough.
“Your paintings were incredible,” he said after a pause in which I was acutely aware of his searching gaze on my face. “The last ones, especially. They weren’t just made of paint. I felt you in them, Anna.”
“Thanks,” I said, glancing around the gallery and seeing nothing. His presence pulled at all my senses. I couldn’t resist looking at him, despite my disquietude. He glanced over at the painting of the girl.
“You may have lost something, Anna. But those last two paintings you did of Tahoe tell me you’ve gained something, too.”
“But at what cost?” I countered quickly. I immediately regretted my outburst. “So… how long will you be in San Francisco?”
“It depends. A couple days. A couple weeks.” He shrugged. “How is Half Moon Bay? Are you enjoying the new house?”
He referred to the small, comfortable ranch style home I’d recently purchased for Lorraine and me. Evan’s and my divorce had gone through a few months ago. It would have gone through sooner, but we’d argued over the settlement. Or our lawyers had.
I hadn’t spoken at any great length to Evan since that last morning at Les Jumeaux, when I’d left. I had finally prevailed on the settlement, agreeing only to an amount of money that would allow Lorraine and me to live comfortably, if not luxuriously, and sufficient funds for Lorraine’s health and daily care. Evan had wanted to provide more, of course. A lot more. But I couldn’t stand it, living off his guilt.
In the end, he’d conceded to my wishes. But I suspected part of his acquiescence was his knowledge that Lorraine had become a very wealthy woman following Noah’s death. Lorraine had named me as the executor and beneficiary of her estate. I would never take a penny of it, although I didn’t tell Lorraine that. It was Noah’s money, and therefore tainted in my mind. But because of the circumstances, Evan knew that Lorraine and I weren’t without resources. I thought that’s why he’d finally agreed to my terms for the divorce.
“We like the new house a lot. I think Lorraine misses Les Jumeaux though,” I admitted, self-conscious that he’d see the truth. I missed it, as much as my grandmother. “But she seems happy in the new house. The gardens and yard are large… big enough to give her a little wandering space, anyway.”
“How is she?” Evan asked.
I knew that he’d grown closer to Lorraine after I’d left the North Twin. Lorraine had stayed there with him, and her caregiver, for a month or so until I’d found a place to live and sent for her.
“You wouldn’t recognize her,” I said honestly. “It’s amazing what regular attention and care can do. Her doctor actually said she was blooming. Given her mental state, and how she was neglected at Les Jumeaux, it was hard to believe she was barely into her sixties. She looks her age now. Younger. She’s got a lot of good years ahead of her.”
I reached into my purse and extricated my phone. I showed him a photo of Lorraine and me standing on the sunny terrace of our new house. She’d put on a good ten pounds, and I’d started taking her regularly to a hairdresser. But it was her smile that told the story.
“Amazing,” Evan murmured, staring at the photo. His gaze flickered over me. “But I’m not surprised. I know what it’s like.” I raised my eyebrows, confused by his statement. “To be loved by you. It brought me back to life, too. Once.”
He handed me back the phone. I accepted it as a dull roar started up in my ears.
“I’ve missed you, Anna.”
“I’ve missed you too.”
“Have you?”