Evening Stars (22 page)

“My fee sheet,” Ambrose said, passing over a paper. “Assuming you want my help as you wind your way through the process of selling the painting. You are selling?”

“I have to talk to my mother,” Nina told him. “With Bonnie, one can never know.”

“Won’t it be a family decision?”

“It’s her painting. Hers and Bertie’s.” She looked at the list of his services. Ambrose would handle everything from authenticating it to working with the auction house. There were costs for each item and most of them were in the five figure range. And that didn’t include pennies.

Ambrose touched the paper with his pen. “If you sign with me, I’ll be paid when the painting is sold. Obviously if I’m acting as your agent, the authentication and appraisal will be done independently.” He pulled out another sheet of paper and signed it with a flourish, then handed it to her.

“My confidentiality agreement. Everything is standard. I won’t tell anyone about your find.”

Confidentiality? “You mean we should keep this quiet.”

“Absolutely. You don’t want a bunch of thieves and opportunists sniffing around. Not only will they make your life miserable, but you’ll risk losing the painting. Best to keep everything quiet until all the decisions are made.” He handed her his card. “That is my cell-phone number. Call me at any time.”

His expression softened. “You’ve made a wonderful find, my dear. But owning something that special is never easy. Nor is the selling process. I will be happy to help you in any way I can. You’ll want your ducks in a row before you make any moves.”

She nodded and they stood.

“Thank you for everything,” she said as she walked him to the door.

“Give yourself a few days to absorb it all,” he suggested. “Then call me. You and your family are about to be a part of history.”

“Yay us,” she murmured.

When he was gone, she closed the door behind him and leaned against it.

His suggestion was a good one. She should get her ducks in a row. If only they were talking about ducks, she thought, this would be a whole lot easier.

Chapter Fifteen

“CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?” Averil asked, stretched out on her bed, her cell phone to her ear. “An Emilion Stoicasescu. Stuff like that doesn’t happen to our family. I wish you were here to see it. The camera picture I sent you doesn’t do it justice. The painting is so strange. How can something like that be famous? I guess I don’t understand art.”

She paused and waited for a response. There was only silence.

“Kevin? Are you still there?”

“I’m here.”

He didn’t sound excited or happy. Or even interested.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Don’t you think this is at least kind of cool?”

“I don’t care about the painting, Averil. Why can’t you see that? It doesn’t matter. There are more important things to talk about.”

She sat up and tightened her grip on the phone. “What do mean?”

“Us. Our relationship. How long are you staying up there? Why did you go in the first place? Are you spending any time thinking about us or our lives together? Are you so caught up in your family and the damn painting that you’ve forgotten you’re married and that you left me?”

Her breath caught. “I didn’t leave you,” she told him. “How could you say that? We agreed I needed time away to think.”

“No, we didn’t. You said you needed the time and were leaving. I didn’t stop you.”

“That’s not what happened,” she said, even as she knew he was telling the truth.

“Do you miss me at all?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Of course. All the time.”

“It’s hard to tell if that’s true or not. You never talk about coming home. I don’t even know what you’re waiting for. Is progress being made?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, feeling her eyes start to burn. Without wanting to, she heard her mother’s voice. The gentle, but insistent whine that she “didn’t want to have to decide. I can’t make up my mind.”

It was genetic, she thought sadly. Not that Kevin would think much of that excuse.

“Things are complicated,” she began, then stopped. What was complicated? The decision as to whether or not she wanted to be with her husband? “I love you, Kevin. I want us to be happy.”

“I believe that. What I don’t know is if you think that happiness is going to come from being together. I keep thinking I’m going to lose you, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it from happening. Am I supposed to show up and fight for you or give you space? What do you want from me? How can I make things better?”

Tears filled her eyes. “I don’t know. It’s not about you. I’m the one who messed up. I’m sorry. I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong. Can you give me a little more time?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Are you telling me to come back?”

“You know I’d never do that,” he told her. “That’s why you’re asking. You get to say that you wanted to make sure I was okay with what you were doing. Then no matter what, it’s not your fault. Neatly played.”

And with that, he hung up.

* * *

Nina had debated the best way to handle the painting situation. Who would ever expect her mother and Bertie would find a piece of art worth ten million dollars? If she didn’t know better, she would think there were secret cameras from a reality show, monitoring her soon-to-be-experienced breakdown.

She’d decided on a direct approach, after certain safety precautions were in place. With Averil’s help, they’d unearthed a key to the big safe in the store and put the painting in there. The key was now in her safety deposit box at the local bank.

“You’re up for this?” she asked her sister.

Averil nodded, then climbed off her bed. “Sure. We have to convince Bertie to act normal, which shouldn’t be too difficult. Then she can be the one to keep Mom in line.”

All things they’d discussed before, only Averil didn’t sound very enthused. “Are you upset?” Nina asked. “Did you want to talk about another plan?”

The last thing she needed was her sister going over to the dark side in the middle of the conversation. The best way to corral Bonnie was to present a united front.

“I’m fine with it,” Averil told her. “I swear. I’ve got some other things on my mind.”

Nina wasn’t sure she could handle another crisis, but she knew her role in the family. “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

“You can’t,” Averil told her. “I need to handle this one myself.”

Nina wished that were true. Eventually all problems led to her door. But for now, she would take the words at face value and be grateful.

“Okay, then let’s go.” She headed for the door, then paused. “You agree that we can’t say it’s a four-way decision, right? It’s not our painting.”

Averil shook her head. “This is Bertie and Mom’s windfall. Not ours. Not that I would say no to a large cash settlement.” Her mouth turned up in a smile, although her eyes were still sad.

Nina nodded. She agreed with her sister. This wasn’t like a family inheritance or grandmother’s legacy. They were interested parties, but not the principles.

The sisters made their way into the living room where Bertie and Bonnie were already waiting on the sofa. Nina smiled as she saw them. The women were different in every way. Bonnie was tall and curvy—Nina had inherited her body type, if not her personality. With long blond hair and blue eyes, Bonnie looked more like a California surfer than a Blackberry Island native. Minus the tan, of course.

Their personalities were different, too. Bonnie was impulsive and generous, but not a detail person. She loathed planning, thought responsibilities were like dirty toilets—best left for others to deal with. She loved the world and assumed that was enough to cause others to overlook her flaws.

She loved her children, yet thought nothing of burdening her oldest daughter with the responsibilities no child should ever have handled.

Both women looked up as she and Averil walked into the living room. Bonnie laughed.

“A family meeting. I’m so curious. Nina, are you running off with your young man?”

“Dylan and I are friends.”

Bonnie’s eyebrows rose. “I meant Kyle.”

“Oh. No, we’re not running off.”

“Keep using him for sex,” Bertie said with a smile. “You deserve it.”

Bonnie leaned into her partner. “I’m not sure you should be giving advice on men, my love.”

“Why not? All relationships have certain aspects in common. Although I’ll admit to a complete lack of knowledge when it comes to men.”

Averil took one of the chairs and Nina sat in the other. Nina laced her fingers together as she tried to figure out how to start.

“You look serious,” her mother said, her smile fading. “Is it bad? I don’t want to hear anything bad.”

“We’re all fine,” Nina told her quickly. “No one is sick or anything. It’s about the painting.”

“The ugly one?” Bonnie asked. “We can’t sell it. That would be wrong. No one should pay good money for something that ugly.” She shuddered. “It violates everything I believe about life being beautiful.”

Bertie’s gaze sharpened as she studied Nina. She took Bonnie’s hand in hers. “Let’s hear her out.”

Nina smiled gratefully, then drew in a breath. “Dylan came to see me last week. He said there was something familiar about the painting, but it took him a while to place it. He showed me some pictures on his phone and said he thought it might be by an artist who was a disciple of Picasso. Emilion Stoicasescu.”

Both women stared at her blankly.

“Of course I know about Picasso,” Bertie said. “But I’ve never heard of his friend. The last name sounds familiar, though....”

Bonnie nodded. “Catherine or something. Are they related?”

“Caterina is his granddaughter, but that’s not exactly the point.” Nina did her best to look casual. “I found an art expert to come up and look at it. His name is Ambrose and he agrees the painting is by Emilion, and is probably an original. Ambrose is knowledgeable and was really helpful. Based on his suggestion, I’ve locked the painting in the safe at the store for now. Until you two decide what you want to do.”

“Oh,” Bertie murmured. “You mean we could sell it?”

“Yes. You could. In the meantime, Ambrose suggested we insure it for ten million dollars.”

Bonnie collapsed back on the sofa. Her shoulders started shaking and soon she was laughing. The happy sound filled the room.

“Is she slipping over the edge?” Averil asked quietly.

Nina shrugged.

After a few more seconds, Bonnie straightened and wiped her eyes. “How wonderful. Nina, whenever I start to worry about you, you surprise me with something like this. So funny. Thank you, darling. That was exactly what I needed this morning. A wonderful joke for all of us.”

Bonnie started to stand. Bertie pulled her back to the sofa. “She’s not kidding.”

“Of course she is. Don’t be ridiculous. We couldn’t possibly have found a painting worth...” The humor faded, along with Bonnie’s color. “No. We didn’t. That doesn’t happen in real life. It was a storage unit auction. Who would put something that valuable in a storage locker?”

“Somebody did, Mom,” Nina told her. “Like I said, it’s safe for now. I wanted to let you know what I’d done and get your permission to—”

“Our permission?” Bonnie shook her head. “Mine and Bertie’s? No. This is a family thing.”

“You two are the ones who bought it. It’s yours.”

Bertie took Bonnie’s hand again. “What is the next step?” she asked.

“Ambrose gave me the name of a few banks in Seattle where we can safely store the painting while we’re working through the process. The painting needs to be authenticated. We’ll have to confirm it wasn’t stolen from a government or museum that will want it back. After that, you can pretty much do anything with it.”

“We could give it to orphans,” Bonnie said happily. “Although it’s ugly and would frighten them. Oh, I know. We can open a little museum here in town. Charge two dollars for people to go through and see it.”

“Or we could sell it,” Bertie said drily.

“That’s not very fun.”

“We can’t afford to keep it,” Bertie told her. “None of us can afford the insurance, let alone whatever special display would be required. A painting that valuable doesn’t fit into our lives.”

“Neither does ten million dollars.” Bonnie shuddered. “That’s too much money.”

“Not divided four ways and after taxes. The girls would be set for life, as would we.”

“I wouldn’t say no to the check,” Averil said. “But you two need to do what you think is right with the painting.”

“I agree,” Nina told them. “But whatever you decide, for now we need to keep this quiet.”

Bertie nodded, but Bonnie’s expression turned stubborn.

“Why?”

“We have the painting secured. We don’t want to risk it being stolen or hurt in any way.”

“She’s right,” Bertie said, facing Bonnie. “You know how much I love you.”

Bonnie sighed. “You always say that right before you tell me something I don’t want to hear.”

“Yes, I do, because you don’t like to hear the truth. We need to be responsible about this. Nina has gone to a lot of trouble for us, and we have to honor her hard work. She’s right about the painting. We must keep the secret for now. I’m worried if you tell someone, you’ll be taken advantage of.”

Bonnie’s mouth blossomed into a pout. “You’re treating me like a child.”

“Yes,” Bertie said. “I wonder why that is.”

“Fine,” Bonnie said with a huff. “I won’t tell anyone.”

With that, she stood and stalked out of the room. Bertie watched her go, then turned back to Nina.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this. Thank you. You’re right about moving the painting to Seattle. I don’t think there’s a big rush, but I think it should happen in the next couple of weeks.”

“I was going to take a day off next week, but I can talk to Andi if you think it should be sooner.”

Bertie smiled. “I think your mom can hold off for that long. I’ll talk to her.” She rose and crossed to Nina. She touched her shoulder. “It always falls to you, doesn’t it?”

“I’m used to it.”

“I’m sure you are.” Bertie left.

Nina turned to her sister. “You okay with all this?”