and the check was good. Ten minutes later he walked away, and Deanna and the gallery were each four hundred dollars richer. He still wasn’t sure why he’d bought them when he put them in his car. All he knew was that he had wanted to have her work. And the prices were insane. He didn’t understand it. He would sell the four pieces in his gallery and turn the far larger profit over to her. As if she cared… What was he trying to prove?
He was annoyed with himself as he parked in front of the Sea Urchin to meet Kim for their lunch. It had been a grandiose thing to do, buying all four of the paintings. When she found out, she’d probably be mad as hell. But something about the whole episode irked him. What did they mean, a “local” Sausalito artist?
Kim was waiting for him at a window table, enjoying the view of the city across the bay.
“Mind if I sit down?” She turned toward him, startled, then laughed.
“For a minute I thought you were a masher.” She grinned up at him, and he smiled. He looked as pleasant as ever, as nicely put together, as well dressed in blazer, slacks, and striped shirt, but she thought there was something troubled in his eyes.
“No such luck, Ms. Houghton, mashers are out of style. Or maybe they’re all women these days.”
“Now, now.”
“Would you like a drink?” he asked. She nodded, and they both ordered bloody marys. For a moment he looked out at the bay. “Kim?”
“Yes, I know. You’re going to tell me you hate the ads. I don’t love them either. But I’ve got some other ideas.”
He shook his head and dragged his eyes back to hers. “Never mind that, though as a matter of fact you’re right. We can talk about that later. I want to ask you something else.” He paused for a long moment, and Kim waited, suddenly wondering if this was what she had seen in his eyes.
“What is it?” He looked so troubled, she wanted to reach out a hand.
“Deanna.”
Kim’s heart almost stopped. “Have you seen her?”
But he only shook his head again. “No. Have you?” Kim nodded in answer. “Is something wrong? I just found four of her paintings in a local gallery, and I don’t understand. Why would she sell her work there? You know what they were selling them for? A hundred and sixty, one seventy-five. It’s crazy, it doesn’t make sense. And they said something about her being a local artist. Local to Sausalito. Now that really doesn’t make sense. What the hell is going on?”
Kim sat looking at him for a moment, saying nothing. She wasn’t sure what she could say. She had a date to visit Deanna that afternoon, right after lunch. She had been delighted with the excuse of having lunch in Sausalito. This way she could stop and see Deanna before heading back. But what could she say to Ben? How much could she tell him?
“Kim, please tell me. Do you know?” His eyes pleaded with her; they were filled with concern.
“Maybe someone else sold the paintings to the gallery after he bought them from her.” She had to ask Deanna before she said anything to him. She had to. She owed that to Deanna, but she wanted to tell him now.
“No, that’s not the case. The girl said they had them on consignment from her. But why? Why a gallery like that, and over here? Is she trying to sell them without her husband knowing? Is she in trouble? Does she need cash?” His eyes pleaded with Kim to speak, and she let out a long, troubled sigh.
“Oh, Ben. What can I say? A lot of things in Deanna’s life have changed.”
“But apparently not enough for her to call me.”
“Maybe she will. In time. She is still very shaken up about Pilar.” He nodded silently and they didn’t speak for a while. The last thing he wanted to discuss today was business. All he could think of was Deanna. He knew something was terribly wrong.
He looked up at Kim again, and she wanted to die from the look in his eyes. “Is she in some kind of trouble?” But Kim shook her head no.
“She’s all right, Ben. She is. I think in some ways she’s happy for the very first time.” She wanted to tear her tongue out for saying it. Deanna had been even happier during the previous summer, but Kim wasn’t sure how to alter what she had just said. “She’s painting a lot.”
“And she’s happy.” He looked at the bay and then at Kim. “With him…” But suddenly Kim couldn’t stand it anymore. She very slowly shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“He went back to France.” Deanna had told her that just last month. Marc had finally gone back to his home.
“Permanently?” Ben looked stunned. Kim merely nodded. “And she stayed?” Kim nodded again, and now there was despair in his eyes. She hadn’t called him. Marc was gone, and she hadn’t called. But as he looked down into his drink, he felt Kim’s hand gently touch his.
“Give her a chance, Ben. A lot of things have happened. I think it may take her a few more months to sort it all out.”
“And she’s living here? In Sausalito?” None of it made any sense. Why wasn’t she living in their house? Had he just run off and left her? “Do you mean to tell me they’re getting a divorce?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. I do.”
“Was it his doing, or hers? Kim, you have to tell me. I have a right to know.”
“I’m the first person to agree with you, Ben.”
“How is she? Is she adjusting? Is she all right?”
“She’s fine. She’s living in a funny little house, working on some new paintings, getting ready-” And then she stopped; she had gone too far.
“Getting ready for what?” He was confused again, and Kimberly was driving him crazy. “For chrissake, Kim, is that lousy gallery giving her a show?” He was incensed. How dare they? Suddenly Kim laughed. She looked at him with a bright light in her eye.
“You know something? This is crazy. We’re sitting here playing twenty questions about how Deanna is, when the one thing she needs is you.” She pulled a pen out of her handbag and grabbed a piece of paper from among her ads. She jotted down the address and handed it to him. “Go. That’s the address.”
“Now?” He looked stunned as he took the piece of paper from her hand. “But what if… if she doesn’t want to see me?”
“She will. But from now on it’s up to you.” She laughed. “And if she gives you any trouble, just punch her in the mouth.” He grinned and looked at her again in confusion.
“What about our lunch?” All he wanted to do was get the hell out of there and go to find Deanna. He really didn’t want to sit there a moment longer with Kim, but she knew it, and she smiled.
“Screw our lunch. We can talk about the ads some other time. Go.” He bent to kiss her and squeezed her shoulder very hard.
“One day, Kim Houghton, I’ll thank you. But right now”-he finally smiled back-“I’ve got to run. Tell me, do I break the door down or just climb down the chimney?”
“Throw a chair through the window. It works every time.”
He was still smiling when he got to his car, and he was at the cul-de-sac five minutes after he left Kim. He glanced at the piece of paper again and quickly saw that it was the house hidden by the large daisy bushes and surrounded by the little picket fence. He wondered if she was at home. Maybe she wasn’t in. He was frightened now. What would he say to her? What if she was angry that he’d come? He couldn’t bear to have her do that to him now, after all the long months of dreams.
He got out of the car and walked slowly to the door. He could hear someone moving around inside, and there was a radio softly playing jazz. He rang the bell and then knocked. More quickly than he expected, her voice rang out from the back of the house.
“Hi, Kim, it’s open. Come on in!” He opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t Kim, but he closed it as quickly. He didn’t want her to know the truth until he was inside, until he saw her, just once, even for a moment. Just once more. He pushed the door open with one hand. He was standing in the bright little front room, and there was no one there.
“Are you in?” she called out to him from the back. “I’m painting the other bedroom. I’ll be right out.”
He felt as though his guts were melting as he listened to her voice for the first time in five months. He simply stood in one spot and waited for her to come out. He wanted to say something to her, but he couldn’t. He almost
