Chapter 18
It’s Saturday and time to finally find those two paintings from Vinnie’s closet—and see if they are the Kimimoto and Playing Around 1:30. It’s one of those muggy days when simply standing outside makes me sweat. It’s going to be a hot summer if this is only April.
We are in a narrow alleyway behind the buildings. Other than a few garbage cans, it’s empty. A fence runs alongside the passage, against which the gardens of the opposing buildings abut. The fire escape is rustier than it used to be. And the ladder is higher up than I remember. I was clearly in better shape when I was younger. I jump to reach it.
“Here, I’ll give you a lift.” William puts his hands around my waist and lifts me up.
“Thanks.” I get my foot on a rung and climb. I hold on with one hand and look down at him. “It’s still being used for socializing. See, they’ve even added a chair.”
“That should make it look less suspicious,” William says. “See you soon.”
He disappears around the corner, off to join our uncles in the gallery. If anyone can talk up a storm and keep a gallery attendant occupied, it’s those two.
I climb up the fire escape to the balcony outside the art studio window and pull a book out of my backpack to pretend I’m reading. That’s got to be nonsuspicious behavior if anyone looks out. My phone beeps.
Earpiece in, I turn on my app to listen in on their conversation. One painting is apparently all white, which the uncles are doing their best to discuss in depth. They have finished asking about the artist’s technique, and now they’ve moved on to meaning.
“What do you think he was trying to convey?” Takashi asks. Their voices come through clearly.
“Is it absolute hopelessness?” Uncle Tony replies.
“Or is it hope?” Takashi asks.
The art gallery attendant reads them a snippet from the catalog.
“Yes, but we should dig deeper than that. What does that mean?” Takashi asks. William, in the background, asks for the bathroom key. I call Uncle Tony’s phone.
“Do you see here, how the white becomes almost translucent? Do you think that was intentional? What do you think that was meant to convey?”
Uncle Tony’s phone rings with the song “Burning Down the House.”
We planned that song playing to cover the sound of the desk drawer opening and closing.
I hope it works. The window is covered by a UV-light-protection curtain.
Scritch-screech. William opens the window. It sounds like that window hasn’t been opened since I left. I crawl inside, swinging my leg over to land on the wooden floor of the storage room.
Via the app, I hear Uncle Tony say, “Maybe the meaning is that all white seems like it’s a blank canvas, open and revealing, but it’s just as effective a screen as any other color. It’s only when it becomes translucent that the viewer can see the canvas. Do you think the artist wants us to see the canvas? Is that to reveal reality?”
The attendant says, “That’s interesting.”
“It is called An Absence of Illusions,” Takashi says.
Good title. Are any illusions holding me back from discovering the thief?
The storage room looks the same. The paintings slide into deep, wooden cupboards organized by the artist’s last name. Larger paintings are stored in the second row by the closet.
“Okay, I’ll check out the closet in the back,” I say. “You look through the paintings for the Kimimoto and Playing Around. Or the two wrapped packages.” The tracking app still shows the location as the gallery. But maybe Vinnie unwrapped the packages and found the tracking device.
The walk-in storage closet is also still the same. A mess of packaging and office supplies. I look through the shelves and boxes, but there are no paintings hidden.
Tony says, “Well, white is an absence of color, so that ties in to the title.”
“Do you know the guy who went to the bathroom? He’s been gone a long time,” the gallery attendant says.
“Can you explain to us more about this all-orange painting?” Takashi asks.
I join William in the main storage room. “No Kimimoto or Playing in the closet.” I flip through the section of paintings William hasn’t yet gone through.
“Look! His two wrapped-up paintings,” William says.
I remove the tracking device, storing it back in my little knapsack, and pull out my pocketknife. I carefully slice between the tape and the paper.
“Vinnie! How great to see you,” Uncle Tony exclaims loudly.
We look at each other in horror.
“C’mon,” I say. My hands are shaking. “Hold it carefully.” I slide the painting out of the paper wrapping. It’s Vinnie’s 888.
“We should go,” William says.
“Let’s just check this one,” I say.
“I should check the bathroom,” the gallery attendant says. “That guy has been in the bathroom a long time.”
“Let’s go,” William says.
“William went to the bathroom,” Takashi says.
As William tapes up the other painting, I cut open the next one and look inside. It’s not one of our paintings.
“Does he have bathroom issues?” Vinnie asks. “He looks healthy enough, but he really should see a doctor about this. He spent a long time in the bathroom at my country house too.”
“Just an upset stomach.” Takashi tsks. “But please give him a moment. He’s embarrassed about it.”
“It’s just I have to go to the bathroom too,” Vinnie says. “Are you looking for something in particular to buy?”
Buzzer time. I run to the window, William after me. I quickly crawl back out, scraping my knees on the brick windowsill. I hunker down. William hurriedly closes the window.
I climb down the fire escape ladder, listening intently.
William returns to the gallery, apologizing for taking so long.
I’ve reached the last fire escape balcony, but the ladder is still about four feet off the ground, so my plan is to wait for William so he can help me get down.
“We thought seeing some art might cheer us up,” Uncle Tony says. “But it doesn’t seem to be working.”
“Particularly these pieces,” Takashi says. “Are they supposed to induce joy or sadness?”
The Kimimoto, with its bright pink and yellow and green colors, was like an explosion of euphoria.
“I think it depends on the person,” Vinnie says.
“This orange-and-white one makes me want to eat a Creamsicle,” Uncle Tony says.
The gallery phone rings. The assistant takes the call. “Sure, so they’re wrapped up and ready for pickup? And they’re in the closet next to the door? Great. I’ll be there around three.”
“Hey, what are you doing out here?” someone yells near me.
I turn around. A woman sticks her head out of the window right next to me.
“No loitering!” she yells. “Get out of here. This is not public property. You’re trespassing.”
“Sorry.” I scramble down the fire escape ladder and stop at the bottom rung. The ground looks really far away.
“Get off the fire escape or I’ll call the cops,” she yells.
“I’m just waiting for a friend,” I say. “I used to work here, and we used to meet on the fire escape.”
“I’m calling the cops!” She waves her phone.
I jump.
Pain races up my foot as it hits the ground.
“Oh!” I collapse and rock. Waves of hurt skyrocket through my body. Oww. I close my eyes and bite my lips to suppress the guttural moans I am making. Ohhh.
Someone shouts my name. William runs toward me.
“What happened?” he asks.
“I had to jump. She was going to call the cops.” My voice is wavery.
“You should have just waited or called me. What if you’ve broken your foot?”
I moan. “Ohh.”
He puts his arms around me. “It’ll be okay.”
The pain is piercing. I grit my teeth to get a grip. “I need a moment,” I bite out.
He rubs my back.
“At least it’s not my hands.” I show them. “Shit, I did.” They’re all scraped up from the rusty ladder.
“Have you had a tetanus shot?”
“I think?” I untie my sneaker to look at my foot. It’s swelling.
“C’mon, I’m going to pick you up.”
“You can’t carry me.”
William snorts. “I can carry you.” He picks me up so gently. “We need to get your foot looked at.”
I rest my head against his very solid shoulder. The throbbing is subsiding.
“Your face is still all white.” He tightens his grip.
“I need to go in network,” I say. “I can’t afford some out-of-network bill.”
“I’ll call my college roommate. He’s a pediatrician.”
“At least he’s not a vet.”
William laughs. “The pain must be better. You’re getting some color back in your cheeks.”
That might be because William is holding me so tightly.And I can’t believe that he can actually lift me. He carries me down the block. Uncle Tony and Takashi appear. I tell them what happened.
Uncle Tony fusses over me. “Do you think you broke it?”
“I hope not,” I say. “The pain is lessening. It feels more like a twist than a break. You guys did a great job.”
Takashi shakes his head. “That was excruciating. I’ve never had to think of so many emotions conveyed by orange and white.”
“I really want a Creamsicle pop. And I haven’t had one in years,” Uncle Tony says. “No paintings?”
Both William and I shake our head.
William’s car is another block away. William carries me quickly there and puts me down to retrieve his key. I rest my weight against the car, off my foot.
Takashi unlocks the car, and William carefully places me in the front seat. My foot hits the floor slightly. Another bolt of pain shoots up. I wince.
William glances at me. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” I say.
He calls his friend and arranges for us to go see him. Uncle Tony and Takashi pile into the back of the car. William pulls out of the parking spot.
“It’s still good that we confirmed that the paintings are not there,” Takashi says.
“They could be at his apartment,” Uncle Tony says.
“We did get one clue,” William says. “On that Friday, you called Vinnie at the gallery and told him the paintings were wrapped up and stored in the closet for the party. If Edmund was there at that time, Edmund could have overheard that conversation. Just like we did today when the gallery assistant repeated where the paintings were ready for pickup as she wrote it down. Edmund could have known on Friday that your painting was in the back room.”
“That’s true,” Takashi says.
William drives uptown. He turns left to drive down Eighteenth Street to Irving Plaza where his friend lives. We search for parking.
“I’ll pay the meter,” I say as William pulls into a parking space. “I can probably hobble there, leaning on you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” William says. “You’re no problem to carry.”
I’m five foot eight and muscular. But William was all hard muscle when I was pressed up against him.
He lifts me again and does grunt a bit this time. Ha, I’m not quite as light as he’s making out. But it’s sweet he’s trying. He smells like clean laundry. I slide my hands around his back to hold him. He’s wearing a long-sleeved, waffle cotton shirt that is soft against my arms.
The uncles follow behind.
“In K-dramas, it’s always a piggyback ride,” I say.
“Do you want me to give you a piggyback ride?” He looks down at me.
I lean my head against his chest. “No, this works for me.”
I sneak a look. He’s blushing.
All four of us take the elevator up to William’s friend’s apartment. William puts me down, and I stand on my one foot, keeping the weight off my swollen ankle. As we reach the eleventh floor, William picks me up again as I protest—but not too much.
A folded-up stroller, rainboots, and a tricycle stand sentry outside the door.
The door opens, and William introduces me to his friend Advik and his wife, Saanvi. Advik is tall with warm, brown eyes. Saanvi is wearing a red dress; her face crumples in concern.
“Oh, that looks really swollen.” Saanvi clucks over me as a little girl around three years old peeks from behind her legs. She takes the little girl by the hand and walks ahead of us through the hallway.
“Watch the entrance,” I say to William. The doorframe looks a little narrow for us to proceed straight in.
“I am.” He shifts me slightly. I think he’s beginning to tire out.
“Go sideways so you don’t hit my foot,” I say.
“You seem to be in less pain.” William grunts.
“It’s my foot that’s hurt. Not my mouth.”
“Pity.”
I punch him lightly.
His glance meets mine. “Is that wise? I could drop you.”
I tighten my arms around him. “In front of your friends? I doubt it.”
He lowers his arms slightly and I drop.
“Oh.” I grab on even tighter. “Okay, okay, I’ll trust your navigation.”
“Don’t worry about taking off your shoes,” Saanvi says. “Just carry her through to the couch.”
William turns to sidestep through the front door. The hallway is narrow and, like many small, New York family apartments, has a coatrack with backpacks and a shoe rack for shoes, so there’s even less space to maneuver. It’s like he’s doing a side lunge down the hallway. He grunts accordingly. I feel as attractive as a gigantic bag of potatoes.
Finally, we reach the entrance to the living room, where he drops my butt onto the couch like a sack of flour, but my foot is protected as it still sticks out.
“Oomph,” I say. He sinks down next to me. Uncle Tony and Takashi trail in behind after removing their shoes.
The two kids check me out.
“Here, let me get your sock off. I’ve got a better angle.” William takes my foot carefully and rolls down my sock gently. I still squeak as it hurts. He shakes his head. My swollen foot has already turned a purplish blue.
“Would you like some water?” Saanvi asks.
“Yes, that would be great,” I say. Having seven people staring at me and my bum ankle is only making me feel worse.
Advik probes my ankle. I wince. He bends it back and forth.
He says, “It looks like it’s just a sprain, but there could be a stress fracture, so you should still get it X-rayed. And keep off it for at least five days.”
“That’s a relief,” Uncle Tony says.
Five days. That’s no income and no investigating.
Uncle Tony sits on the floor, chatting with Advik and Saanvi’s two little girls. Uncle Tony loves kids. The older girl takes Uncle Tony by the hand and wants to show him her room.
“Maybe we just need to do more investigatory thinking.” William takes my hands and asks Saanvi for antiseptic. Saanvi returns with an ice pack, glasses of water, and antiseptic.
“I’m so sorry to put you to work,” I say to Saanvi.
“Not at all. This is a welcome surprise.” She winks at me. “We miss talking to adults.”
“Hold still,” William says. His grip is light but firm around my wrist. He cleans off the cuts on my hands with the antiseptic. I close my eyes as it stings.
Advik looks at my hand and frowns.
“I’ll check with my doctor about the tetanus shot,” I say.
“Thanks so much, Advik and Saanvi,” William says. “I’m sorry to put you to work on your day off.”
“Yes, thank you so much,” I say. They have a very comfortable living room with an open kitchen. A plastic Barbie dollhouse sits in one corner, with the Barbie dolls lying facedown on the floor in various prone positions. Those dolls are me.
“We’re happy to see you,” Advik says. “Especially since we missed your party. We couldn’t get a babysitter on such short notice.”
“Sorry about that,” William says.
“Your uncles are crawling into our children’s cardboard-box house,” Advik says. “You should come see.”
William leaves with Advik. It’s just me and Saanvi. The ice pack feels amazing against my ankle. I press it firmly.
“How long have you guys been dating?” Saanvi asks.
I look up at her. “We’re not dating.”
She gives me a surprised look. “Oh, it seemed like you were.”
“Our uncles are married. And so that’s why he’s … attentive.” I guess.
She gives me a “really?” look. “I’ve never seen him arguing with anyone like that,” she says dryly.
I blush. “How long have you known him?”
“We were in college together.”
I am surprised. “But surely with his girlfriends?”
She says, “In college, he did have a serious relationship with Itsuki, and he definitely adored her. They didn’t seem to ever argue—at least not in front of us. They set the standard for the perfect couple.”
This is not what I want to hear.
“She probably didn’t jump off a fire escape to piss him off,” I say.
Saanvi laughs.
“Why did they break up?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Itsuki broke up with him. He was devastated. And it took him a while to get over her. And his feeling like he wasn’t enough. He sometimes argued with Juri, his girlfriend in business school. He broke up with her.”
“Why did he break up with her?” I ask. Is there more to the story than that she wanted to live permanently in Japan? Was Itsuki the one he still loved after they broke up?
“You’re quite interested for someone who’s not his girlfriend,” Saanvi says with a smile.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I say. “But that’s not to say I’m uninterested in William.”
Saanvi chuckles. “He’s a good catch.”
William and Advik return from the children’s bedroom. I hope he didn’t overhear my confession.
“Thanks so much for looking at my foot,” I say to Advik.
“It’s no problem. It’s great to meet you. And it’s been a while since I’ve seen William. And I finally got to meet Takashi. I’ve heard so much about him,” Advik says. “But you never mentioned his babysitting capabilities.”
“I didn’t know,” William says.
Saanvi shoots me a sly glance. “You should get on that while you can take advantage of it.”
William puts his hands in his pockets. “I’m working on it.”
Is he? With me, or is there someone else?
Saanvi raises an eyebrow at me suggestively. I blush.
“I’m supposed to meet Miju tonight at a club,” I say to William.
“You’ll have to cancel,” he says.
“But …”
“You can’t dance on your foot,” he says.
“I could still talk.”
“Reschedule,” he says firmly. “You have to keep your foot up.”
“I called my clinic around the corner, and they can X-ray it now.” Advik wraps up my ankle firmly, showing me how to do it. “They accept your insurance.”
We thank Advik and Saanvi. Uncle Tony calls for the elevator, and William carries me back into it. This is a disaster.
“How am I going to get up the stairs?”
“At least once you’re there, you’ll be stuck in your apartment and you won’t be able to do any more investigating on your own,” William says.
“Don’t try to contain your joy,” I say.
He smirks. “If I recall correctly, Sherlock Holmes did a lot of thinking at home.”
“He also did field research,” I say. “Anyway, you should be more sympathetic. I’ll have to cancel all my gigs.”
“You’ll still be able to paint.”
“There is that.”
The elevator stops at a floor, but the person waiting shakes his head. He wants to go up.
“We probably need to do more thinking about this than actual investigating,” Takashi says.
“It would be the week that Tessa is traveling. She returns on Wednesday,” I say. “I guess I can order in.”
“You can stay at my place tonight,” William says. “It will be easier with the elevator. And then tomorrow we can face the stairs.”
“We have an elevator too,” Takashi says. “You could also stay with us.”
Uncle Tony glances at Takashi, and some look passes between them.
“I don’t want to intrude. I’ll be fine at home.” If I can get up the stairs.
“My couch converts to a bed. It’s easy,” William says.
“Okay,” I say.
The elevator door opens.
“Here we go.” William picks me up again, firmly sliding his arms under my legs and around my back. I keep my face down against his chest. The pain has subsided now, and I’m way too aware of how close I am to him. I breathe in his comforting scent. He carries me out of Advik’s apartment building and down the block to the clinic for my X-ray.
No stress fracture, thankfully. I just have to keep my foot up. William drives uptown to drop off Uncle Tony and Takashi at their apartment first. We’re double-parked outside their building.
“Should I pick up your toothbrush and stuff from your apartment?” Uncle Tony asks me.
“That would be great.”
“Text me a list of what you need and where it is,” Uncle Tony says.
I text him my list. There’s nothing like having your uncle dig through your underwear drawer. But otherwise, it would be William, and that would be worse. The car parked in front of us pulls out, and William slides into the spot. That was a lucky break.
“William, why don’t you come up with me and I’ll give you the cane and crutches?” Takashi says.
Takashi and William leave while Uncle Tony goes over my list with me.
As soon as William disappears into their building, Uncle Tony asks, “What’s happening between you and William?”
“What do you mean?”
Tony raises his eyebrows. “He just carried you for blocks.”
“I couldn’t exactly walk.” I shift my foot so it is up in the air with my calf resting on my other knee.
Tony snorts. “The way he was carrying you—like you were something precious to him. Did anything happen on your drive up to Vinnie’s?”
“No. We talked a bit. And I was annoyed he didn’t want to let me break into the house to check out the paintings.”
Tony laughs. “Yes, I can’t see him doing that.”
“I guess we’re getting to know each other,” I say. “We’ve never really talked before.”
“Anyway, William can come across as reserved, but he looked pretty emotional when he was carrying you.”
“I’m an idiot. I panicked when she threatened to call the police. Imagine the press getting ahold of that,” I say. “Weeping Willow Locked Up For Trespassing. And my mug shot plastered in all the papers.”
“But I’m worried for him. He seems a bit bruised by the Kiyoko thing,” Uncle Tony says. “He was also really in love with Itsuki and devastated when they broke up. He’s not the type you usually go for.”
It was Itsuki.
“No, he’s not my usual type. I try to stick to other artists,” I say. “I’m a little hurt that you’re not worried for me.”
“We’re worried for both of you. You’re going to see each other at family functions for years.”
“I understand. I don’t want my heart broken either.”
“Still, your relationship with Rex was very volatile, and William is very even-keeled,” Uncle Tony says.
“It was too volatile.” It had been exhausting. There’d be these highs when we couldn’t get enough of each other and then these lows where I couldn’t stand him.
“Rex and William are very different,” Uncle Tony says. “Be careful with William. Are you sure you and Rex are over?”
“Yes. We have so much history together—both good and bad,” I say. “Sometimes when I see him, I feel engulfed in the good feelings and wish we’d worked out. But we definitely tried. I don’t have any regrets that we didn’t try enough to make it work.”
“That’s important,” Uncle Tony says.
“I didn’t expect you to be warning me off William.” I thought it might be messy, but I didn’t expect them to vocalize that. I expected them to think we were adults. “Who is Kiyoko? Is she the woman his grandmother wants him to marry?”
“Yes, she is.” Tony shakes his head. “She’s lovely, but when we met her, she definitely didn’t seem interested in William.”
I can’t help but feel a tinge of relief. Even though I’ve just been told to stay away from William. Like I’m the female equivalent of some nineteenth-century rake. I snort.
“He did pursue her though,” Uncle Tony says.
“How did he pursue her?” I ask.
Uncle Tony gives me a “you’re not listening to me” look. He pats my shoulder. “I’m not warning you off. I’m just saying that a relationship with William won’t be simple, and unless it’s the real thing, it’s best staying friends.”
“We are just friends. We’re too opposite anyway.”
“Opposites can work in complementary ways. Like jigsaw puzzle pieces. Like me and Takashi. I usually think opposites are the best matches, despite your parents.” Tony’s phone beeps.
“You and Takashi seem similar to me, except maybe in your design taste,” I say, “but you both seem comfortable in either decor.”
“We’ve smoothed out over the years.” He looks at his phone. “But be careful with William.”
“Did Takashi just text you that?”
“Yes,” Uncle Tony says. “But it’s not because he doesn’t love you.”
“You can allay his fears. I promise nothing will happen tonight.” My foot throbs. “You can reassure him that seduction is the last thing on my mind with a swollen foot.”