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Authors: Pamela S Wetterman

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BOOK: The Artist's Paradise
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C
hapter 19

 

Jonathon’s chest tightened as he entered the hallway. Mister Tubbs barked loudly. Thank God, she’s still here. Would she give him a second chance? She’d been so unpredictable lately. He’d heard of women going through the change being unreasonable. But she was entirely too young to start that nonsense. He hardly recognized her these days. He thought back to his youth. Had his mother been so irrational? No, he was sure of it. He wanted to save his marriage. He had to follow Joe’s advice. Stay calm, listen, and keep an open mind.


Honey, it’s me. I’m home.”

Mister
Tubbs pranced toward Jonathan. His body took on the shape of the letter C as his stubby tail wagged.

Jonathan bent down and scooped
Mister Tubbs up into his arms. “Hello, Buddy. I’m glad you’re here. Where’s Mommy?”

“I’m right here,” Angie whispered.

He gasped. She stood a few feet in front of him. He handed Mister Tubbs to her. “I’m glad you’re still here. I was afraid I’d missed you.”

Her puffy eyes said she’d been crying. Red eyes, no makeup, her hair in tangles, his Angie was still a beautiful vision.

“May I come in?”

Angie nodded. She set
Mister Tubbs down onto the floor and leaned up against the fireplace. Jonathan followed her into the living room and took a seat in his blue leather recliner.

“I must say, I’m a little surprised to see you
,” she said—her voice cold and indifferent. “After you left home last night, I thought we might be a thing of the past.”

He shook his head. “I know I left like a madman. But that was stupid. I want to understand you and what you want to do in Knoxville. Tell me
again. This time, I’ll listen, promise.”

She
settled herself into the wing chair by the fireplace. Raising her head, she glared at Jonathan. “I’m not sure where to start. Susie introduced me to a brilliant artist. He’s a professor at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville.” She leaned closer. “Each year he accepts one gifted student for a nine-week intensive study.” She continued with increased tempo, “He asked me to paint a scene for him, and I did.” Angie sat back in her chair and paused.

“And?”

“And after he reviewed my watercolor, he
chose
me to mentor for the summer. Can’t you see it’s a chance in a life-time?”

What could he say? He didn’t want her to go. He certainly didn’t trust this professor, but she needed a response.

“I understand why you are so excited. But aren’t there gifted art teachers here in greater Chicago? Surely we could find someone as good as this professor, closer to home.”

Angie clasped her hands in her lap
, and glared at him in silence.

“Remember how we planned on remodeling the sitting room to create an artist studio next to our bedroom? The north light’s
perfect, and there’s plenty of room. We can even set up a special place for Mister Tubbs to watch you paint.”

Still no response.

“What are you thinking? I can’t read your mind.”

“I want Professor Turner. I’ve seen his work. No one could be as talented as he is.”

Jonathan shifted in his chair. “How can you think of being gone for over two months?”

“You aren’t home much anyway. You could visit me. We could talk every night on the phone. The time will pass quickly
. It’s what I really want.”

“What about
Mister Tubbs? Would he go too?”

“No. The professor
’s allergic to him. I can ask Vicki to watch him while I’m gone.”

If
Mister Tubbs wouldn’t be going, this was more serious than he’d realized. “If you go, I want to keep Mister Tubbs here. I’ll hire a sitter to walk him three times a day, and when I get home, I’ll take him out myself. I can feed him in the mornings and evenings.”

“When I go, will you really come home every night and take care of my baby?”

“Yes.”

Angie stood and stretched. “I am going
, with or without your consent. I don’t need it, but if you support my decision, it would mean a lot to me. How much do you really love me?”

A lump formed in his throat. How much did he love her? Enough to put her needs first? Joe told him nothing had happened—yet. But movie stars fell in and out of love with their co-stars. The arts carried emotion within the creative process. What if he lost her to this
man?

He sat up, leaned forward, and said,
“I love you more than you know. If I say no, I could lose you forever. If I say yes, I could lose you to another man. Either way, I could lose the most important person in my life.”

She
crossed the room, knelt down in front of his chair, and took his hands into hers. “I want to paint. I’ve loved watercolors for as long as I can remember. My first art show, I placed fifth. Maybe one day, I could be first. You love the courtroom drama. For me, it’s the passion of creating. That’s why I want this chance. No other reason. Trust me.”

“When would you leave?”

“Not for a few weeks. The summer study begins after the spring term ends.”

Jonathan’s eyes burned. “The most difficult part of loving someone is giving them the space to be their own person. I do trust you.
Mister Tubbs and I will be fine while you blossom into the best artist in centuries.”

Angie jumped up into his lap and hugged and kissed him frantically.
Mister Tubbs joined in the game.

Jonathan’s
pulse raced and pounded in is ears. No reason to bring up marriage counseling. Maybe he would mention it when she returned—if she returned.

#

Angie masked her happiness as Jonathan readied for work on Thursday morning. Finally, the front-door security-tone rang. He was gone. She released her breath and the tightness in her chest vanished. Was it a dream? She hadn’t dared share her happiness with Jonathan. He would attempt to stop her from going if he believed it possible. He felt threatened. When she returned home, ready to embrace her passion for painting, he would understand that this trip was the best gift he had ever given her. Much better than something his assistant purchased for their anniversary. He put her needs first—giving her freedom to rekindle her artistic skills.

She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Vicki. “I’m going to Knoxville. If the professor will have me, I’ll be his next summer intensive student. I’m excited and anxious at the same time.”

“And Jonathan has no objections?”

Angie described her encounter with Jonathan. “I won. He gave in after one night at the Carlton.”

“I’m not sure you should look at this like a win/lose situation. What if you win the tutoring and lose your husband?”

She
pulled the cell from her ear and shook her head.  Why was Vicki against her going back to Knoxville? “Look. I know you think there’s something wrong with the professor. But Susie knows him a lot better than you do, and she adores him. Can’t you be happy for me?”

Vicki was silent.

“Well?”

“I’ll be happy for you because it’s what you think you want. Be very careful. My
sixth sense tells me the professor isn’t all you think he is. If I’m right, pack up and come home immediately. If I’m wrong, I’ll apologize for being suspicious.”

Angie stiffened her back and said, “You don’t need to worry about me. This’s the chance of a lifetime. Professor Turner is gifted and willing to share his knowledge. I hope he hasn’t gotten someone else as his summer student.”

Vicki sighed, “Do you need any help? Who will care for Mister Tubbs?”

“I’m fine.
Jonathan arranged for a pet sitter for work days, and he promised he’d be home evenings and weekends.”

“Tell him if he gets into a pinch to call me. I can always fill in for him.”

“I’ll let him know. I need to run. If I can firm up my study with the professor today, I’ll be on my way to Knoxville in less than three weeks. Thanks for understanding.”

#

Angie searched for the professor’s business card. Pulling it out of her wallet, she plopped down on the edge of the bed. What if she was too late? She would never find anyone as gifted. He’d said he wanted her to be the student for the summer. Surely, he hadn’t filled that slot in just two days. Her hand shook as she punched in his number. He picked up immediately. “Professor, its Angie Rhodes.”

“I’d hoped you’d call. Tell me your answer is
yes
.”

She
giggled, “Yes, I can come if you’ll have me.”

“You’re my first and only choice. When can you come? We need to get started on your lessons. You have
raw talent that requires development.”

Angie smiled. He
planned to bring out the very best in her.

“I’ll be there as soon as the spring session of school is out, the third Monday in May.”

“Perfect. May I contact you next week to make sure you bring everything needed?”

Angie stretched out on the bed, cell phone held close to her ear. How she loved the
raspy sound of his deep voice. His attention felt wonderful. Jonathan could take a lesson or two from this man. “You can call me anytime. This number is the best one to reach me.”

“And your dog? Have you made arrangements for him?”

“Mister Tubbs will be here with my husband.”

“Good, I know how attached you are to the dog. For now you rest, read, and relax. Once you get here, there’s no time for anything but painting. I’ll take very good care of you.”

“I’m so excited. Thank you for accepting me.”

“I’ll be calling you soon. Remember Angie, if you work hard and follow
everything
I say, your painting will improve. Who knows what might happen. I’ll teach you all of T. W. Turner’s techniques.”

“What an honor that would be. Were you related to him?”

“No, but he’s always been my inspiration. I hope to be yours. Keep in touch.”

After Angie hung up, she squealed and pumped her fist into the air. “I can hardly wait.”

#

The professor whistled as he rushed into the
Artists Paradise
. He surveyed the cottage, as if directing the pivotal scene in a Hollywood film—everything was perfect. Positive she’d say “yes.” He’d executed his plan to create the perfect haven for her. She would arrive in less than a month. .

He’d increased the artistic supplies—paper imported from France, new watercolor shades, and natural bristle brushes of all sizes and shapes.

Noting that Angie wore fall colors to accent her alabaster skin and auburn hair, he’d redecorated the cottage with shades of greens, reds, and orange. Wandering the cottage interior end to end, he inspected his creation. The focal points in the room were gently staged with deep greens to accent her bright emerald-green eyes.

He turned his attention to the sofa and armchair facing the fireplace. New decorative pillows on the furniture picked up the fall colors in the room. He sprayed Abercrombie & Finch Fierce, his favorite cologne on the new bedding. Subtle, yet lustful, the cologne attracted women like moths to a nightlight. Everything was ready.

#

Jonathan busied himself with office correspondence, reviewing client files, and
the general clean up required after the close of a trial. He loved his role in the courtroom. His law firm sought after corporations facing expensive lawsuits. His legal team, more often than most, saved their clients millions. He had risen in the firm as a prize trial attorney. He could read a jury and tell the client’s story. His ability to hammer the opposition into settling a case before the verdict arrived with expensive punitive consequences, paved his path to becoming a partner. He thrived on the big win—bonuses were sweet recognition. But what would all that matter if he lost Angie?

What had changed
her? She wasn’t the person he’d married. Now, she spit out her words like a viper ready to strike. He saw rage in her. But why?  She had everything a woman could want.

Women—who could figure them out?

A gentle knock on his door drew him from his thoughts.

“Come in.”

“Boss, how are you doing? Need anything?”

Jonathan smiled. “Yes, I need my old wife back. Can you find her?”

“She’s trying her wings. She’ll leave as a moth and return a beautiful butterfly.”

Jonathan pushed back from his desk and rocked on the back two legs of his chair, “Now you’re telling me fairytales. You’re unique. I’m glad you’re here, not only as my admin, but as my coach.”

Gina cleared her throat. “I’m here if you need anything. I’ve located a good marriage counselor. Do you want her number?”

“Thanks. I’ll talk to Angie and see if she wants to see a counselor before she leaves town.” He swept the hair from his forehead and stood.

Gina touched his shoulder. “Marriage isn’t for the faint of heart. She loves you, but something’s missing in her life. Let her look for it without feeling guilty. We all have to grow up. It’s her time now. Remember, she’s eight years younger than you.”

BOOK: The Artist's Paradise
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