Chapter Thirty-one
Emerson kept her promise and didn’t reach out to Darcy in the days leading up to her show. She had plenty to keep her busy—finishing another small painting, transporting everything, deciding the layout of her work in the space—but that didn’t stop her from thinking about Darcy. Liam, too. She fell asleep thinking about them and woke up thinking about them. And just when her mind seemed to be consumed by something else entirely, they’d pop up, unbidden. It didn’t help that the painting of Darcy, nearly life-size, was a constant presence.
The morning of the show, the gallery was closed and she was able to do a final walk-through. Although she’d signed the contract six months prior, before she’d met Darcy or even considered doing a large-scale piece as a focal point, the space was perfectly suited to it. The large square room had a single dividing wall in the center. She’d initially considered four smaller paintings on a single theme, but now she couldn’t imagine anything but the painting of Darcy anchoring the space and commanding attention from every angle.
She wondered if Darcy would come. They hadn’t discussed it, nor had they discussed that Darcy would be featured in it. Had things not taken a turn, she would have invited Darcy to her studio, given her a private viewing before anyone else saw it. But those plans, and so many others, had changed.
She did her best to stay focused. Will took the day off to help and, by some unspoken agreement, kept her attention where it needed to be. They chatted with Peter, the gallery manager, walking around and making sure everything was set. Emerson had decided to arrange things by theme, so she had a wall of landscapes, another with paintings of women, and one with men. She used the back of the focal wall to display three animal paintings she’d done—the turtle from her time with Liam, the tail of a whale from a photo she took on the whale watch, and a bird she found nesting near the beach. She liked that the works inspired by her time with Liam were the flip side of Darcy.
Satisfied she was ready, she went home to change. Will followed. She’d even brought her change of clothes so Emerson wouldn’t have the chance to mope or fret or do any of the other things a moody artist with relationship problems might be prone to do.
She put on the charcoal pants and vest she’d bought herself when she booked the show, gray shirt, and a purple tie. She indulged in a little extra time on her hair, using just enough wax to give it the intentionally disheveled look. By the time she laced up her boots, Will was ready and waiting. “You look great.”
Emerson took a deep breath, blew it out in a huff. “Thanks.”
“Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
They walked the short distance back to the gallery and found Alex and Lia already there, arranging snacks and setting out the case of wine Emerson had bought. “This isn’t your first Gallery Night, is it?” Lia asked.
Emerson shook her head. “No, but it’s my first time having a Gallery Night opening with a whole show to myself.”
Lia beamed. “So exciting. I know it might be cheesy to say, but we’re so proud of you.”
Alex nodded and Will slung her arm around Emerson’s shoulders. “We all are.”
Despite telling herself a hundred times she was cool, Emerson found herself choked up. Partly because she’d never get to have her parents at a show and, even now, the desire to make them proud stuck with her. But if she was being honest with herself, part of it was Darcy. She’d really hoped to share this night with Darcy. She’d taken for granted that Darcy would be there and now that she wasn’t, something about the celebration felt hollow. Emerson shook her head. Now was not the time to wallow. She cleared her throat. “Your support means the world to me.”
Not long after, people began to arrive. Emerson recognized a few former clients, some friends. Most were strangers—a few collectors, maybe, and tourists wandering the East End for Gallery Night. Emerson worked the room, chatting and trying to be a good host. Even with that effort, she remained distracted. Every movement near the door got her attention; each time it wasn’t Darcy, her heart sank.
She lasted almost two hours. Long enough to see the people who’d come specifically for her, to thank them for their support. She did okay finding the right balance of soaking in and deflecting their praise. By all accounts, her opening was a success. But all she could think about was Darcy. That fact, and all its implications, hit her as she shook hands with a couple who’d just purchased the man in the yellow Speedo.
She loved her. Like, make babies and live happily ever after loved her. She needed to tell her. Now.
She went in search of Will, who was chatting with Lia and Alex. “I need to get out of here.”
Lia put a hand on her arm and Alex asked, “Are you okay?”
“I need to talk to Darcy.”
Will frowned. “Is she not coming?”
“I don’t know. She hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Do you want me to call her?” Alex asked.
“No, I don’t want to make it weird. I just need to see her.”
Will nodded. “Okay. What do you need from us? What can we do?”
Emerson shook her head. “Nothing. I just wanted to let you know.”
“We can stick around in case Darcy shows up,” Lia offered.
“You don’t have to do that.”
Alex waved a hand. “No big deal. Things are starting to wind down. We’re going to pick up the food in little bit anyway.”
“And I’ll help,” Will said.
“You guys are the best. You know that, right?”
Lia smiled. “We do. Now, go. Good luck.”
Emerson jogged from the gallery to where her car was parked. She didn’t want to be cheesy-movie desperate, but she felt it. Deciding you want to spend the rest of your life with someone created a sense of urgency. And she did. She wanted it more than anything. She got on the road, reminding herself repeatedly not to speed.
*****
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
Darcy stopped pacing and stared at Liam. “Nothing, honey.”
He raised an eyebrow and gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. “Clearly, that’s not true.”
Darcy laughed. She couldn’t scold him for talking back when he was completely right. “You know how sometimes there’s something you want to do and don’t want to do at the same time?”
He considered a moment. “Like a karate tournament.”
“Yes, exactly. You want to go, but you’re kind of nervous and part of you just wants to stay home.”
Liam nodded. “So, there’s something you want to do and not do? What is it?”
She shouldn’t be telling Liam all this, especially given how tenuous things were with Emerson. Anything that got him more invested had the potential to come back and bite her in the ass, tenfold. “Emerson has a show of her paintings tonight. I want to go, but since we haven’t seen her much lately, I’m nervous.” Darcy took a deep breath. It was a truthful, if simplified, answer.
Liam looked at her like she’d grown a second head. “Mom. Emerson’s paintings are a big deal. We have to go.”
“I’m not sure she wants to see me.”
He angled his head. “Did you have a fight?”
“Sort of.”
“Well, then you should apologize.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
Liam shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “What do you say when I don’t want to go to karate?”
“That you’ll have fun once you’re there.”
“And that I’ll be proud of myself. Don’t you want to be proud of yourself?”
Darcy looked at him. So much innocence and wisdom rolled into one package, it made her heart hurt. “You’re right.”
Liam folded his arms and smiled smugly. “I know.”
Okay, so they’d still have to work on humble. Still, he was right. “All right. I’m going to go.”
“Yes!” Liam jumped up from the sofa. He’d stopped wearing the sling the day before and his wrist seemed to be completely healed.
“I’m going to see if Sara can come stay with you for a little while.”
Liam stopped jumping up and down and planted his fists on his sides defiantly. “Why can’t I go with you?”
“Because I need to have a grownup talk with Emerson.”
“But she’s my friend, too.”
“I know, but you don’t need to make up with her. I do.”
“You should have moral support.”
“Liam.”
Whether he didn’t want to get in trouble or sensed what a big deal it was, he didn’t argue further. “Okay, Mom.”
“Thank you.”
“You better make up with her.”
Darcy laughed again as she picked up her phone to call Sara. Even with no idea what the situation was, he managed to hit the nail right on the head. “I’m going to try.”
An hour later, Darcy walked into the gallery and stopped dead in her tracks. The painting hung in the center of the largest wall, more than twice as big as any of the others. The size alone would have caught her attention, as would the vibrant colors of Emerson’s signature palette. But neither of those things held a candle to the painting’s subject matter. In the middle of a public gallery—complete with track lighting artfully creating a spotlight—Darcy was faced with a life-size portrait of herself.
The painting wasn’t a photographic likeness. It had the stylized vintage feel that seemed to be the hallmark of Emerson’s work. Yet, anyone who knew her would see the resemblance. Emerson had a way of capturing her essence even without the specificity of precise detail. And Darcy remembered posing for it. Or, rather, posing for the photo that inspired it.
Darcy shook her head. It was stunning. More than beautiful, it was intimate. It captured something Darcy didn’t know she possessed—a heady mix of playfulness and joy, tinged with something that felt at once sexual and innocent. She felt both enthralled and exposed. Someone called her name and Darcy turned, trying to rein in the jumble of thoughts and emotions crowding her mind. She was relieved to find Lia and Alex standing only a few feet away.
“I didn’t think you would be here,” Lia said.
Darcy hadn’t said anything to either of them about the show, but given how things with Emerson were, the assertion shouldn’t surprise her. Still, the show was a big deal. It’s not like she and Emerson had such a dramatic falling out that she wouldn’t want to show her support. Of course, it had been enough of a falling out that she had no idea she’d be the centerpiece of it. “I…”
“Are you looking for Emerson?”
Was she? Clearly, she was. She wouldn’t have come otherwise. “Yes. I didn’t…she isn’t…”
Alex placed a hand on her arm. “Are you okay?”
Darcy nodded. “She’s not expecting me. We haven’t spoken. She’s been working. I didn’t realize—” She turned to face the painting again.
“Ah, okay.” Alex’s hand moved from her arm to under her elbow. “Do you want to sit down for a minute? Or get some fresh air?”
Darcy tore her eyes away from the painting to look at Alex. “Sorry. I was caught off guard is all. I’m fine.”
“Yes, but you look like you might pass out,” Lia said.
“And you’re shaking.” Alex looked worried.
The last thing Darcy wanted was to seem fragile. She mustered a smile. “Just surprised. I’m fine, I swear.”
“It’s beautiful.” Alex glanced at the painting. “Did you not know Emerson was working on it?”
That was a loaded question. “Not exactly. She took some photos. I told her she could use them, I just…” Darcy trailed off again. Apparently, she’d lost the ability to form coherent sentences.
“Didn’t expect such a prominent display?” Lia’s tone was sympathetic.
Darcy laughed then, glad that she could have this reaction with her friends instead of with Emerson. “Something like that.”
“There’s just one thing,” Alex said.
What could be more noteworthy than her own face looking down at her? “What’s that?”
“Emerson isn’t here.”
That didn’t make sense. Darcy yanked her gaze from the painting and turned to her. “Wait. What?”
Lia put a hand on her arm. “She left to go find you.”
That couldn’t be right. This show was the biggest thing to happen to Emerson—her career—all year. There’s no way she’d leave. “She wouldn’t do that. Besides, I’m here.”
Alex shook her head. “I’m guessing you passed one another on the road. She was heading to your place.”
Suddenly, Darcy did feel the need to sit down. Instead of indulging it, she tried to absorb this new information. And what it meant. And what the hell she was supposed to do about it. “I should go back there. Unless she gets there and realizes I’m here and comes back. I should—”
Lia interrupted her jumbled attempt at a plan. “You go. We’ll call her and let her know you’re on your way.”
“Okay.” Darcy didn’t like the idea of leaving. She hadn’t even seen all the paintings. But if Emerson left her show to see her, the least she could do was go to where Emerson was.
She looked down at herself, then around, like she might be forgetting something. Alex put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re fine. Go.”
She nodded. “Yes. Going.”
Lia grinned. “Good luck.”
She had no idea what she wanted to say to Emerson, much less what Emerson had to say to her. “Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.”