CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 13
Kari returned to her car and took a meandering drive down Miramar’s main street, almost allowing the car to guide itself. She pulled into the seaside lot and parked facing the Pacific. Rollers crashed so far out, the sound was softly muted through her open windows. A sliver of moon cast its feeble light, turning the long streamers of foam into silver-white blankets. She welcomed the chilly, salt-laden breeze. It helped anchor her to this new place, helped her make sense of these incredibly confusing new events.
Despite her racing mind, Kari remained filled with an eerie calmness. She felt as though she was being realigned at the atomic level. Her life had entered into a series of subtle changes. But all she could see were the external elements. A new home. A new town. An invitation to Miami. And now . . .
Her purse was an old-fashioned Fendi she had found at the back of her mother’s closet, forgotten and forlorn. Her own years of hard use had rendered the shoulder bag shapeless and baggy. She rummaged through an assortment of pads, pens, colored pencils, cleaning cloths, and PowerBars, which she bought and seldom ate, and retrieved her phone.
Kari sat there a long moment, cradling the device in both hands. The moon rose another notch; the waves beckoned and whispered. Finally, she made the impossible call.
Graham answered with, “Kari, is everything all right?”
She opened her mouth, breathed again, then asked, “When do you need to tell them?”
It was Graham’s turn to go quiet. Then, “Just a moment, dear.” Rafi spoke in the background, and Graham replied, “It’s nothing, really.” A door closed, and he said, “There’s no need to shorten Rafi’s life span. Which we very well might, if we’re talking about what I think we are.”
“I’m just asking.”
“The fair starts in five days.”
“The same as the music festival?”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Well, to answer your question, the two cities’ annual calendars are still jumbled by COVID. Before, the music thing was strictly Miami, and the art fair was Miami Beach. Those places were often at each other’s throats.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I was born in the next city north. A dreary place called Fort Lauderdale. Where the very old and feeble go to visit their parents.”
“I feel terrible not knowing that.”
“It’s not something I advertise. You’re not the only one who was eager to leave the past behind. It’s why Rafi travels there on his own.”
“So things are different between the two cities now?”
“At least for this year. Next year they might be taking aim across the Intracoastal Waterway. For now it’s all huggy-kissy. The art exhibition has locations in downtown Miami, and the music festival is at both their main venues.”
“But you’re willing to go back?”
“With you? Showcased by the biggest art fair on the East Coast?” Graham gave that a beat, then said, “Is that your idea of a joke?”
* * *
This same bone-deep calm continued to override her frantic nerves during the drive home. She remained oddly fixed in the storm’s silent eye as she fed the kitten and made herself a salad. Kari felt able to observe herself from a distance, while remaining intensely involved in the moment. When her meal was over, she settled Sienna in her lap and placed the night’s second call.
Indrid answered with, “Kari, is everything all right?”
“I’m sorry to call so late.”
“Nonsense. I’m delighted to hear from you. How are things?”
“Things,” Kari replied, “are very confusing.”
“Tell me everything.”
As she began, Kari could see the older woman now, settled on the ivory love seat, placing her reading glasses on the coffee table, tucking her feet up under her, draping a cashmere throw over her legs. Ready to listen forever. Her dearest friend.
Kari started with dinner at Castaways, the remarkable foursome, wanting to photograph them for future work. Meeting Ian, their conversation. Painting all today. She acknowledged to herself as well as to Indrid that the creative surge was at least partly due to agreeing to a drink with one of her favorite music stars. Which led naturally to Graham’s phone call. Entering the restaurant, finding Ian wrapped in his sad solitude. As she recounted Ian’s explanation, she was silenced by the resurging terror. Losing her creative way, watching helplessly as her life’s passion went away. Forever.
Indrid brought her back with “What happened next?”
Kari recounted Ian’s agreement to play in Miami. At the festival. Timed to the event where they wanted to showcase Kari’s work.
When she was done, Indrid did not respond. Kari stroked the purring kitten and welcomed the silence. The sensation of balanced calm versus electric rush was stronger now. As if she had taken a further step toward the nexus of this strange force.
Finally, Indrid said, “I think it’s time I came up for a visit.”
“Really?”
“Tomorrow,” Indrid said. “I want to meet this gentleman for myself. Can you arrange that?”
Kari started to say it was impossible, since she had no idea what his number was or even where he lived. In the end, though, all she said was, “I’ll try.”