The Artist's Paradise (20 page)

“Have you ever asked her what she wants to do?”

He
slapped the top of his desk with an open hand and jumped up. “Have I asked her anything? She won’t even speak to me. How the hell can I know what she’s thinking?”

“Well, she’s called you now, hasn’t she?”
Gina rose and stood face to face with him. “Maybe it’s time to make a life-impacting decision. I hope you share your news with her. Otherwise, you make that decision in a vacuum.” She turned, stomped out of his office, and slammed his door behind her.

He spent his
entire career working for this day. Could Gina be right? Was his life on autopilot? Unable to concentrate, he attempted to reach Angie. Of course, she never picked up. The silence in his office was deafening. Why did he keep trying?

#

Later that day, still unable to reach Angie, Jonathan left work early, picked up some Chinese takeout, and jumped on the train for home around 4:30. Starved, he gobbled up his meal, sat back in the seat, and closed his eyes. God, why was he so exhausted?

As his shoulders relaxed in the seat, a loud voice penetrated his space. Great! Someone wanted to engage him in idle conversation. Jonathan ignored the voice until the man’s words hit a sore point.
Then he shot up in a sitting position and rebutted the comment. He entered into a hearty debate over economic policy with a loud-mouthed commuter. Why did he end up next to an uneducated bore? Weren’t there any intellectuals who rode the Redline?

Jonathan arrived at his stop and jumped off the train.  He stretched his arms over his head and rotated his shoulders forward. Would this day ever end?

Once home, he took care of Mister Tubbs’ needs and then the two strolled into his home office. He walked over to his swivel chair, sat down, and turned on his computer. No messages from Angie. He grabbed his cell phone and tried her number. No answer. His heart pounded like a base drum in his chest. He didn’t even know if he had a marriage to save. But if he took this case, he knew he would be alone. Was an equity partnership worth that risk? Gina gave him good counsel. He had some big decisions to make, and time was short. He sighed.

How would he know what to do? He had wanted this chance at a
n equity partnership all of his adult life. But if it cost him his bride, how could it be worth it?

In college, he’d studied leadership. He learned there were several types of decisions made by leaders every day. Many decisions were made by consensus. Gather the input of others and the group makes the decision together.

A second method, one-with-some, the leader gathered information from a critical few and made the final decision alone.

The third method, one-on-
none, required the leader to make the decision based on his best knowledge with no input from anyone else. He knew Angie should be included in his life plans, but he might have to act without her if he couldn’t reach her. He had to give his answer to the board in the morning.

He lifted the remote to his satellite system and turned on Neil Diamond, selecting “Forever in Blue Jeans.”
Neil was right. Money can’t make you happy. If you’re always chasing that brass ring, you will lose your way. Money might make you famous, but life with your love-one makes you happy. Had he been chasing a dream that would cost him his Angie?

Why had he
put her last? He thought she was happy. He should have known her well enough to recognize the warning signs.

Jonathan rechecked his voice mail and text messages. Nothing. He scanned his missed calls—none today. He slumped in his chair, laid his arms on the desk, and cradled his head. His breath came shallow and rapid. His pulse beat in his ears. What had happened to Angie? Why couldn’t he reach her?

He recalled several TV programs where a wife had disappeared, never to be found again. The law usually convicted the husband of murder. He imagined sitting helplessly in the interrogation room, as they asked, ‘Why did you wait for three weeks to report her missing?” The questions would come fast and furious. “Did the two of you argued before she left?” And the final accusation that always tripped up the murder, “Why hasn’t there been any activity on her credit card since her flight to Knoxville?”

Oh, my God
. She could be hurt, kidnapped, or murdered. While all he had done was to sit in Chicago and gripe, because she had gone to take painting lessons? Geez, he was a sick monster.

He leaped up from his chair, called Delta Airlines, and then contacted Vicki. Although not concerned for Angie’s safety, Vicki agreed that with no word from her, it was time for action.  She would pick up
Mister Tubbs in the morning and tend to him until Jonathan returned.

“I’ll keep trying to reach her tomorrow. If she answers or calls back, I’ll insist she contact you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Let me know if you talk to her. I’m sick with worry.”

With his flight scheduled for 6 in the morning, Jonathan packed a few necessities and attempted to get some sleep. Neil Diamond was right. The love of his life was more important than fame and money.  To hell with the partnership, he
would bring Angie home and spend the rest of his life trying to make up for the first eight years of their marriage.

Chapter 34

A soft rapping on her door awakened Angie from her dreams of a private hell. She slipped on her robe and stepped to the door. As she opened it, her eyes grew wide, as she took in the unexpected vision before her. There stood the professor, holding a lavish bouquet of yellow and pink daisies and a box of Godiva Gold Ballotin chocolates. A smile covered his face from ear to ear. His eyes sparkled.
Was she going crazy?

“Good morning, my dear. How are you this beautiful day?”

Angie’s hands shook and her knees buckled beneath her. Beautiful day? He evicted her last night. Her dreams smashed. How dare he bring her flowers and candy?

The professor sauntered into the cottage and set his gifts on the coffee table
. “You look gorgeous. Are you ready for your next lesson?”

Angie stepped back and st
ared in silence. Next lesson? “I’m in my bathrobe, and I’m leaving today, if I can get a flight out. Delta has me on standby. I spent most of last night packing.” She waived her arm in the direction of her luggage. "You fired me as your student, remember?”

He
collapsed onto the sofa and sank into the soft cushions. “Fired you? Nonsense,” he exclaimed. “Yes, I was a tad upset, but never would I fire you—ever. You are gifted.  No, I won’t let you leave.”

Angie remained near the open door, not sure
it was safe to close it. Was he insane? ‘Look, you made your wishes perfectly clear. I’m not the talent you wanted. I’m leaving. This merry-go-round is making me crazy.”

Was he crying? God, what was going on?

“Please don’t go. I need you here. My life starts and ends every day with you.”

He sl
umped further into the sofa and held his head in his hands. His body shook as he sobbed.

Angie closed the front door and
then marched toward him, “What are you talking about? I’m your student, nothing more.”

He stared up at her, face wet with tears. “You
are my path to greatness. Without you, I have nothing. Don’t take that away from me like Paula did.”

Paula?
His path to
greatness?

“Don’t you see?” he continued
, as he stood back up. “You were at the competition when my peers ignored my talent.” He paced around the cottage. “Paula left me as soon as she learned everything I could teach her. She mocked me in the media. She turned me into a failure.”

Angie’s knees weakened. How had he gotten so despondent? Had his differences with Paula created this emotional void?
“You are not a failure. Your students love you, and the college respects you.”

“My students don’t
count!” He flopped back down on the sofa.

Angie lowered h
erself next to him on the couch and rubbed his back.

He turned to her.
“My competitors all hate me, you know. They’re jealous, but that hatred prevents me from getting the honors I deserve. I can’t continue to live like this.” He trembled.

Angie reached out to him and
held his hand. “You’re a great artist. I’ve seen your talent. Others have seen it too.”

“Promise me you’ll stay.
” He pulled her close as he had that night in the moonlight. “You must allow me to continue to inspire your talent.”

Angie
struggled and jerked away. How could she stay with a man so unstable?

“You don’t think I
’m serious, do you?”

“
Serious about what?”
He made no sense at all.

“You see. I knew you’d come to hate me
, just as Paula did. You’re laughing at my pain.” He pulled a prescription bottle from his pants’ pocket and jumped up. “You’re like all the others, selfish, cunning, and here to steal my talent. Then you’ll leave and won’t share the honors with me. And I thought
you
would be different.” The professor ran across the room, grabbed a class of water, and opened the prescription bottle.

Angie took a step toward him. “No, wait. Please. No
.”

He dumped the entire contents
from the pill bottle into the palm of his hand. “You don’t care about me.”

She rushed to stop him, but he threw the pills into his mouth and gulped down the glass of water. He pointed a long finger at her. “My death is on your hands.”

“What have you done?” She grabbed the phone and hit 911.

#

Five hours later, Angie stood and stretched out her stiff back. Gazing around the waiting room area of The University of Tennessee Medical Center, she gulped down another cup of bitter coffee. The driver had kindly invited her to jump into the passenger’s seat and ride to the trauma center in the ambulance. As he hit the sirens and popped into drive, he assured her that they were racing to the finest Level1 emergency and trauma center in all of Eastern Tennessee.

After
rechecking the time, she settled back into her rickety chair. She rocked herself as she waited for the doctor to come. Why was it taking so long? Was he dead? If so, was that her fault? She wanted to call Jonathan, but he’d be upset. He hadn’t wanted her to come to Knoxville at all. Now look at the mess she was in.

All her
life, she’d been naive. But this adventure was worse than naive. She’d been stupid—
the queen of stupidity
. She ran through life with a belief that all people were good. Everything turned out for the best. Life was fair to all. How ingenuous she was. Time after time, choice after choice, she failed to see the truth. What a difficult weakness to live with. Could it be that she had once again failed to understand what others saw—reality?

The front
-desk volunteer paged the family of James Turner. Shaking from too much caffeine, and dizzy with exhaustion, she stood and walked over to the reception desk.

He asked, “Turner family?”

She nodded.

“You have a call holding.”

She picked up the receiver and said, “Hello?”

A deep male voice greeted her. “
I’m Doctor Black. Are you a family member of James Turner?”

“No, I’m a friend. He has no family in Knoxville. I rode in the ambulance with him. Is he going to be all right?”

“Mister Turner will need to stay the night. We’ve stabilized him, pumped his stomach, and given him an I.V. of fluids. You can take him home tomorrow. I recommend that he follow up with his psychiatrist as soon as he gets home. If he doesn’t have one, I‘ll have a list of three names for him to consider with his discharge papers. He will be discharged at noon tomorrow.”

“Will he be all right?”

No response. The doctor was gone.

Angie slouched in the waiting-room armchair. Guilt gnawed at her. What should she do now? If she called
Jonathan, he’d come to get her immediately. The professor might actually succeed in killing himself. If she stayed, well, staying with a depressed suicidal man she hardly knew, did that make sense? She’d seen he was high-strung, but try to kill himself, never.

Vicki
had tried to convince her that the professor was an emotional abuser. But would an abuser attempt suicide? If he was an abuser, his attempt might be a way to control her. Her mind, her life, and even her thoughts, all now seemed to be centered on the professor. That sounded like mind control. If his end-game was to control her, she might never see Jonathan again.

The professor was eccentric, yes. But a premeditated abuser, she wasn’t sure. Vicki hardly knew him. If he wasn’t an abuser, leaving might put him at risk. She should stay for his sake. At the e
nd of their sessions, she would leave gracefully, promising to remain in touch. His mental health and his life depended on her staying. If she made the wrong decision, it could cost her everything she valued. Best of all, if she stayed, Jonathan would never have to know.

Mind made up, Angie inquired about an available cab.

Thirty minutes later the driver dropped Angie off in front of the professor’s house. She dragged herself out of the backseat, handed the cabbie a twenty, and slunk toward the cottage. As she unlocked the front door, she noticed a note taped on the door. Once inside, she opened the envelope.

Angie,

I saw the ambulance this morning and was afraid you had been hurt.

Please call me when you get this note.

Hanna – 865-218-5555

Angie checked the time. Ten minutes to
11. She had spent the entire day and evening at that hospital, and she still had no idea how the professor was doing. She couldn’t deal with questions now.  She’d make contact in the morning. Her body and mind demanded total quiet.

She shuffled across the main room
, and sank onto the edge of the bed. She despised this isolation. This horrible experience had been all her fault. She had selfishly searched for her passion, her own path in life. She had lost everyone important to her.  She fell onto the bed and sobbed. Why had Jonathan failed to return her call? She never meant to end their marriage. She’d needed to be Jonathan’s equal, not his tagalong. Her tears came faster. Angie threw her arms around the pillow and buried her face into the soft fabric. Finally, sometime after three a.m. she settled into a restless sleep.