Chapter 14
Fourteen
Whitney put on the bracelet that Matthew had returned. It had a timeless look to it; it went with anything from jeans to dressier outfits. That’s what she loved about it. Tonight, it was time to shine without taking away from the dress itself. Besides, in a way, that bracelet was how they met.
It had a complex clasp, and it wasn’t all that easy to get on and off. It was funny that it had slipped from her arm that night. That had never happened before.
Carina had pulled Whitney’s hair up, adding in some loose curls that hung down her back. She felt elegant, and a little nervous, even though she wasn’t sure where things were heading with Matthew.
“You look so beautiful,” Carina said.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a date-date.” She pressed her hands to her stomach. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“Take a breath.”
Whitney and Carina inhaled together, then Carina counted down the exhale. “Good.”
Whitney shook out her hands. “My palms are sweating.”
“Relax. You’re going to have a great time. You’re just out of practice, and if this doesn’t turn out to be something more, then what’s the harm? Maybe it’ll get your groove back. Drop the lawyer’s edge and just be you. Wonderful, fun, you.”
“Why is it so hard to balance real life with work?”
“I don’t know. I’m not so sure it’s really any harder than being a full-time mom was for our moms. It’s different. We’re wearing more hats. Kind of shifting gears between nurturing and negotiating with bottom-lines and depositions. I guess the negotiating is helpful no matter which hat we’re wearing.”
“True.” She looked in the full-length mirror again. “Are you sure this dress isn’t too bright for black-tie? I could wear the black one.”
“You look beautiful. It’s the perfect dress. I promise.”
“Okay.” She smoothed her hands along the lines of the dress. “He’s really interesting.”
“Good, because so are you. And you are just as good at your job as he is at his. It’s a pretty even match. That’s hard to find. Relax and let tonight be what it’s meant to be.”
“I don’t really have time for a relationship. I?—”
“Uh-uh.” Carina wagged her finger. “No ma’am. You take that comment right off the table. We have to make time for the priorities in our lives. Jobs are not the priority. It’s what we do, not who we are. You’ve wanted to be married and have a baby, two actually, since the day I met you. Being a lawyer was not your only dream. A family is your dream too. That’s personal, and you deserve that happiness.”
Whitney wondered when she lost sight of the ability to chase more than one dream. It all used to seem so easy. “How do you do it all?”
“Oh, Whitney, having Chloe when we did was horrible timing, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Honestly, if we’d waited for the right time, when would it be? Not now either.”
“That’s true. I hear you.” She glanced over at the fishbowl on her dresser. James, her bright red beta fish swam to the top and blew some bubbles. “I barely have time for James.”
“Life balance is this year’s goal. We will find the balance.” Carina sat on the bed and placed her hands with index finger-to-thumb on her thighs in a yoga pose. “We will be the balance.”
Whitney mimicked the mantra and closed her eyes. “Be the balance. Meditation versus Mediation. Maybe we’ll start a yoga class for overworked attorneys.”
“No. We can’t add another thing to our plate, except for the perfect partner for you. We need to work smarter and find balance. And the right partner is less work, not more.”
“This isn’t going to be easy.”
Carina pointed to the clock. “We’ve done harder things, but right now, it’s about time for you to leave. Have a wonderful time, Whitney. Don’t think of anything. Be in the moment. Totally in the moment.”
The intercom buzzed, announcing someone from the lobby.
“He’s here,” Whitney said in a panic. “Am I ready?”
“You are perfect.” Carina shoved the small handbag that held only a lipstick, a credit card, and Whitney’s phone into her hands. “Answer the door buzzer!”
Whitney walked over and pressed the button. “Hello?”
“It’s Matthew. Can I come up?”
Whitney shrunk and turned to Carina, who was nodding fervently.
“Yes, yes. That’ll be great. It’s 1412.”
The girls grabbed hands, and Whitney let out a squeal.
“Be cool. Maintain,” Carina said. “Breathe. You can’t go passing out. That would be bad.”
That made Whitney laugh, and thankfully it shook free some of the nerves. She took a breath and stood there in the middle of the room.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Do you want me to get it?” Carina asked.
Whitney shook her head and went to open the door.
Matthew had slicked his hair back, and he wore a tuxedo like one of those Calvin Klein models. A bouquet of summer flowers filled his arms. “These are for you.”
“Thank you. Matthew, you look… come in. Do you always dress this nice for these things?”
“It’s black-tie. There’s pretty much a formula.” He laughed. “But you… you look stunning. I was right. The purple brings out your eyes. I knew it was a good color for you.”
Carina’s eyes widened, and Whitney tried to ignore her reaction.
“You remember Carina?” she asked. “My sister-in-law.”
“Yes, nice to see you again,” he said.
“You too.” Carina grabbed her things. “I hope you two have a wonderful night. Drive safely.” She started for the door and then stopped. “What am I thinking?” She pressed her palm to her forehead. “You both look so nice. Right now. In front of the pretty wall over there.”
Whitney was so embarrassed. “What are you doing, Carina?”
“I’m going to take a picture of the two of you. You both look great. Come on.”
Whitney wanted to kill her. “This is not prom, Carina.”
“It could’ve been. Matthew, did you go to your prom?”
“No, but?—”
“See. It’s like his prom. Come on, it’s not every day people get dressed so beautifully to go somewhere. Indulge me. I’m a ragged, married woman with a two-year-old. I don’t get these moments often.”
“You are far from raggedy,” Whitney said. “And we’ve got somewhere to be.”
Carina stomped her foot and spoke. “Right! So if you’d pose already, we can take this one picture and be done. Quit making a big deal out of it.” She urged them over with a brush of her hand. “Go.”
Like baby ducks getting pushed into the pond for the first time, they tentatively walked over to where she was pointing and stood side-by-side.
“Ah. Could you put your arm around her, and y’all act like you like each other and are excited about tonight? Jeesh.”
They both started laughing, and from that point, the mood lightened.
Carina had her way with the pictures, and Matthew’s sweet tug around Whitney’s waist let her know he really didn’t mind one bit.
“We’re done here.” Carina turned and walked out the door with a final wave. “Have a great time!”
The door clicked closed behind her. Carina could be like a hurricane sometimes. The quiet hung in the room for a little longer than was comfortable. They stood there staring at one another. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, and a moment later they were both laughing.
“Should we get this party started?” he said.
“Oh yeah. Absolutely. Let me put those flowers in some water. I won’t take a sec.” She took the flowers to the kitchen. “This was unexpected. And they match my dress. Thank you so much.” She wrestled the tissue paper from them and dropped them in a vase of water. “They smell like walking in a meadow after a rainstorm.”
“I like that,” he said, with a slight smile and hesitation. “I’m sorry. You just look so elegant. I can’t take my eyes off you. It’s… it’s rather inspiring.”
The comment caught her off guard. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
“Me too. Shall we?” He hooked his arm, and they walked out of her condo, down the elevator, and to the front door. She got a nod of appreciation from the doorman. For a moment, she felt like she just relived that Pretty Woman moment when they were leaving for the opera.
He held the door for her and then crossed in front of her. She followed along, realizing she really didn’t even know what he drove, but he had mentioned something about a truck at one point. There was a silver GMC parked up the block, but he stopped short of that. Instead, he grabbed the door handle of a vintage red and white corvette.
She’d only ever seen them in the magazines William used to save his allowance for growing up. “Is this a ’54?” she asked.
He looked impressed that she even had a guess. “It’s a 1958. Good guess, though.”
“My brother is crazy about cars,” she shared.
He held the door, taking care to drape her dress inside before closing it.
“My dress clashes against all this red.”
“No way. It’s perfect. This car never looked so good.” He twisted the key in the ignition, and the car rumbled to life.
“It even sounds fast.”
“We’re in no hurry.” He pulled away from the curb, and they were on the interstate, heading east toward Williamsburg.
He was a skillful driver, content in his lane. It was kind of fun to see people looking twice at the sporty car. He looked so at ease behind the wheel, like this car was built for him.
“Is this your car?” she asked over the noise of the engine. “I thought you mentioned a truck.”
He nodded as he shifted into high gear. “I have to have a truck for the murals. It requires a lot of equipment and special scaffolding, but yes, this is my car.”
“It’s nice.”
“Should’ve seen her when I got her. Dad and I rescued her from despair when I was in my teens. Took us years to get it right and road-worthy, but she’s never let me down. Not the smoothest ride around, but it’s fun to drive.”
“You must’ve been really close. You and your dad.”
“We were. He was the best person I’ve ever known. If I can live up to him, I’ll be doing something.”
It was hard to talk over the road noise, so she simply nodded. The sincerity in his voice struck her, so that she had to hold back the threat of a tear. His comment about painting his dad into every mural replayed in her mind. What a beautiful way to keep that memory alive.
She thought she’d ask about him possibly doing a mural for Chloe on the ride, but the car was high on motor and short on quiet. She’d save that for later. Leaning back against the soft leather seats, she took in the scenery. She’d all but forgotten what a pretty drive it was outside the city. Summer was almost here, and the trees were flaunting shades greener than a St. Patty’s Day parade—in every variation you could imagine.
In the median, wildflowers in red and yellow peeked from the grasses like tiny, smiling faces that pumped her heart full of joy.
Matthew took an exit way before they reached the Colonial Williamsburg area.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah, the gallery is on this side of Williamsburg. Closer to the York River. Williamsburg covers a lot of ground. It’s beautiful on this side and not nearly as built up.”
They drove down a long, quiet, two-lane road with open fields on each side of them. When they turned, the trees were so full of leaves, heavy from the humidity, that the limbs hung across the street like a tunnel.
A sign with “York Shore” in gold letters directed them to the next turn.
Down a winding road, the terrain opened up and a white fence lined the road for what seemed like miles.
They passed a sign that showed the gallery was only a quarter mile ahead.
Matthew slowed to pull through the opulent gates. “Here we are.”
Ahead, a huge brick and glass building in an old-world style rose from the clearing. With ample parking and a sprawling, single story restaurant facing the river, it seemed odd for this kind of establishment to be so off the beaten path. The parking lot was filling up, though, and people dressed for the affair were making their way inside.
“I guess they don’t get much foot traffic here,” Whitney said.
“None, but then how many people just happen in to art galleries?” He pulled up to the gallery doors, and a valet helped Whitney out of the vehicle and then took the keys from Matthew in exchange for a shiny gold token.
Matthew escorted her inside, where the room was bright and filled with color, between the well-dressed couples and the art on the walls.
“This is amazing.” She walked with her chin in the air, gazing at the beautiful artwork that surrounded her.
He grabbed them both a glass of champagne. “To your first time at a gallery opening. Thank you for being my plus-one.”
“And to a wonderful show for you.” The crisp tone of their glasses coming together filled her with anticipation for the night ahead. “Now, show me your paintings. I want to see them.”
“They’re back here. The light is amazing, reflecting off the water.” As they worked their way through the people, someone called his name. He stopped and turned, recognition crossing his face as he shook hands with a very tall, silver-haired man.
“Welcome. Thank you for coming tonight,” the man said.
“I wouldn’t have missed it. Barney, this is Whitney Winters.”
“Charmed,” he said. “Please enjoy yourselves. We are so excited to open this amazing display of talent to everyone.” Barney sauntered off to the next familiar face.
Matthew leaned in and told her, “His late wife had a love of the arts. When she passed away, he opened the gallery in her memory, and as a legacy for their grandchildren.” Matthew led her to the room that Barney had put together for his work.
Whitney noticed him take a breath as they walked into the room, and she felt his eyes on her. Was he nervous? But her thoughts cleared away as she stepped into the room full of landscapes and cityscapes. “You painted all of these?”
His head slowly lifted. “I did. Sometimes I forget all the pictures I’ve painted over the years. His wife bought some of my very first paintings when I was getting started. No one knew my name back then. You can see how my style has changed over the past twenty years.”
She left his side, wanting to take her time and get lost in the colors and textures. Some were so realistic she felt as if she could take her shoes off and walk right into the scene.
As she moved through the space, she was captured by the bold, bright oil paintings and the soft touch of watercolors too.
A series of three collages, at least a yard tall and half as wide, hung side-by-side. Fancy art gallery plates held the artist’s name, title, description and year the paintings were completed. The three in this collection were titled: Peace, Love, and Joy. The series was done in hues so subtle that you had to let your imagination fill in the distinct color variations that teased the eye. It almost left her in a daze.
Scenes on each panel had been painted to look like an old tin photograph on the top two-thirds. The lower sections were different, with collages of timeless collectibles, including daintily scripted letters, stamps, flowers, and a wedding photo. In another, there was a delicate silver watch laid across calendar pages, and tickets that were all time and date stamped from the 1920s.
“I love these.” She turned to see someone had pulled Matthew aside. She’d been so drawn into the images that she hadn’t noticed he’d stepped away. Not that she minded. She watched him talking to the people. He seemed genuinely humble, although he had so much to be easily prideful about.
She waited until the people left and walked over to Matthew. “I’m blown away,” she said. “I knew you were talented. I’ve seen the mural and the art Mom purchased for the office, and she doesn’t buy junk, but this is…” She looked around and then back at him. “I feel like it’s a piece of you. Like I know you better for having seen these—sounds silly, right?”
“No. It doesn’t. Thank you, that’s so kind, and yes, in every single piece of my work there is a part of me. I happened into art as a coping mechanism when everything else in my life was out of control. Sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m going to paint until I’m finished. I get that lost in the process. The colors, the shapes, somehow it all comes together.”
“It’s a special gift.” It sounded so freeing.
“Has to be a gift, because there are many more talented artists than me that can’t make a living with their art. I am forever grateful for the path I’m on.”
“I can see that.” The gallery was becoming more crowded. She found it interesting to observe which pieces of art caught the eye of the guests. “I’m enjoying this so much. I’d love to look around. Do you need to stay put to talk to people about your work?”
“No, this is a fun night to celebrate the new gallery. I’ll let you lead the way.”
“Fun. Okay. Let’s go this way.” She moved down a corridor with sleek marble flooring and painted in deep jewel tones. Alcoves and niches held exquisite paintings in gilded frames and lighting that showed off the vivid hues.
He followed along quietly for a while, then leaned in and whispered, “I’m really glad you came with me.”
“Me too. This is really interesting. I’m having fun, even if you kind of strong-armed me into it.” She propped her hand on her hip playfully.
“Wait a minute.” He looked worried. “I may have exploited the situation with the video to get you to go to dinner, but I politely invited you to accompany me here. At least I meant to.”
She giggled. “You did. I’m just playing. And I’m really glad you invited me.”
“Me too. ”
They walked out into the main hall and started working their way through the smaller rooms.
“They have a wonderful spread out in the restaurant for everyone.” He glanced at his watch. “I thought you might enjoy the sunset. We can grab a plate and sit outside overlooking the river.”
“That sounds lovely. Let’s do that.”
“We’ve got a little bit of time.” Matthew shared what he knew about the other artists on the way over to the restaurant. Many people recognized him, and he was always gracious and likable. She’d never really dated anyone that impressed her like this.
As they looked at a series of seascapes, she overheard a couple talking about Matthew’s work. She found herself excited to hear how much they valued his talent.
Matthew pulled out his phone to check the time again. “Sorry I keep checking. I don’t want you to miss that sunset. We still have about thirty minutes.”
“Can we go back to where your paintings were? After seeing so many, I want to look at them again.”
“Sure.”
He led her back through the rooms to where they started.
She followed him, feeling oddly comfortable despite not knowing him for long, and suddenly understanding why her mother loved shopping for art so much.