03 The Fate Of The Muse - Marina's Tales (11 page)

I needed to get downtown and deliver my
paintings to the gallery, so I decided to pick up some cat food on
the way home. I scrutinized my pile of finished paintings,
selecting a nice assortment for the show, and loading them in the
Rover. I found myself reluctant to leave my studio, but I had to
get the paintings over to Susan’s gallery in time for her to hang
them.

Before I locked up, I paused to take a last
look around the loft. Shayla and I had worked hard to clean the
place up and it was completely transformed. It looked comfortable,
and I truly felt as though I could relax here. I shivered with a
long absent happiness, and had an overwhelming urge to see Ethan. I
couldn’t wait to surprise him with my new studio, and decided to
show him after the rally. I realized we could be completely alone
here, and the thought was both exciting and scary.

When I turned into Abby’s drive the first
thing I saw was Ethan’s truck. It was a happy surprise, for I
didn’t expect him until much later. I walked in with a smile,
lugging a large bag of cat food. Ethan and Abby were sitting at the
kitchen table. They looked at the bag and back up at me with
sympathetic eyes.

“I see you heard,” Abby said.

Ethan got up to give me a hug, “I just found
out… Are you okay?”

I drew back, “Found out what?”

“Didn’t you see the paper?”

“No,” I said, looking between the two of
them. They exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

“We have some bad news…” Abby bit her lip,
“You better sit down, hun.”

Ethan took my hand and showed me the
newspaper. There was an obituary with a picture of Stella and a
headline that read, “Longtime Aptos Resident.” I took it from him
and read an article that said Stella had been found dead at her
daughter’s house… five days ago.

“No,” I shook my head in disbelief, “It’s not
possible.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, squeezing my
shoulder.

I looked up at them, “But, seriously… I… I
just saw her.”

They exchanged a look. “Oh honey… I’m so
sorry.” Abby said.

“No! I mean, it’s
got
to be a
mistake,” I said dismissively, not wanting to bring up my surfing
last night. “I bet she’s down there as we speak… in fact, I’m going
for a walk to drop off some food to her right now.”

Now they looked alarmed. I got up, mildly
irritated, “It’s just some dumb mistake. Trust me, you can’t
believe everything you read!”

Abby rushed over to me with a sob and hugged
me close, patting my back like she was burping a baby. I rolled my
eyes at Ethan in amusement, patting her in return.

“I’ll just be a little while,” I told them,
getting up to go.

“I’ll go with you,” Ethan said, following me
out the door. He took the bag under one arm and my hand with the
other, casting sideways glances at me as we walked.

“You know,” he said tentatively, “She was
really old.”

“I’m aware of that,” I replied sarcastically,
“Stop looking at me that way!”

He went on, “It was bound to happen
sometime…”

We worked our way down the stairs to the spot
where the cats were fed, but there was no sign of her. I was
surprised to see them come out right away, for they usually never
showed themselves without Stella nearby. I looked around for her,
checking her favorite benches, finally opening the bag and pouring
out some food.

Ethan and I stood back and watched as a group
of mangy looking cats came slithering out of the underbrush. They
set upon the food frantically, barely looking over at us. I
recognized the little tabby cat Stella called Freddy, noticing it
was visibly pregnant, its bony frame barely able to support what
could only be a litter of kittens.

I chuckled, “I guess she should have named it
Fredericka,” I said.

And suddenly, I knew she was gone.

My eyes filled with tears, meeting Ethan’s as
he stepped closer to enclose me in his arms. I was going to miss
her, and I was stunned, barely able to process the idea. As
scattered as Stella had been, hearing her ramble on about the past
was a comfort to me. She was one of the few links I had to the
mother I never knew, and I now could feel those memories slipping
away from me. There was one less person on earth I could talk to
about it.

I started shaking, trembling uncontrollably
when I realized that it wasn’t Stella I’d spoken to last night, at
least not the flesh-and-blood Stella. Her spirit couldn’t rest
until she was sure her beloved cats would be taken care of. It was
both sad and shocking.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan whispered in my ear.

“I’m okay,” I replied, but my voice was
quavery. I wanted to tell him what happened last night, but I
didn’t want to worry him about my return to nocturnal surfing. My
mind was filled with awe as I thought about what it meant. I had
seen a dead woman, and spoken with her… was this just some phantom
I’d conjured up in my own mind, or could it be another
manifestation of my hybrid powers? Did this mean I might be able to
see my mother?

Being a scientist’s daughter, I’d always been
taught to be skeptical about the ghostly sightings and spiritual
gibberish that Evie wanted so desperately to believe. Her cadre of
mediums and fortune tellers had never proven beyond a shadow of a
doubt that they could communicate with spirits. I thought about all
the times I’d teased Evie about her beliefs, and now, without even
looking for it, I had just been provided with empirical evidence of
an afterlife. It was disconcerting, but strangely comforting.

Just then, a jogger I’d seen before came
trotting by, pausing for a beat to watch the strays scarfing down
the food. “Too bad about the cat lady,” he panted, checking his
time while running in place, “But I guess none of us can live
forever.” He plodded off, his feet crunching on the gravel.

Ethan looked at me with apprehension dawning
in his eyes.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SERENDIPITY

Ethan was quiet on the walk home, his face
distant and preoccupied. It was just as well, as I had a lot to
think about, and I tended to clam up when I felt sad. When we got
onto Abby’s drive, he stopped me, wrapping his arms around me and
burrowing his face in my neck.

“I guess it’s up to me to feed the cats now,”
I said, thinking about Stella’s request.

He held me tighter, rubbing my back. We were
just starting to relax into each other when a powerful engine
roared around the corner, startling us. Ethan pulled me behind him
as a sports car lurched into the driveway, coming to a screeching
halt. It was a familiar bright red, but longer and lower to the
ground than the Porsche. I looked around Ethan’s shoulder to see
Cruz step out of it.

He looked at us with a smirk, “Now, why am I
not surprised?”

“Welcome back Cruz.”

Ethan looked at the car, and then at Cruz
with raised eyebrows, “Whoa! She lets you drive the
Testarossa?”

“I have carte blanche in the garage,” Cruz
said haughtily, throwing his overnight bag over his shoulder, “So,
how are things here in tinytown? Are you two kids behaving?”

Ethan and I exchanged an amused glance, “Your
mom misses you,” I called after him as he jauntily strolled into
the house.

“I have to get back to work,” Ethan said,
explaining that he’d promised to help finish setting up. There was
a ton of heavy lifting to do before sunset and his dad was already
there waiting for him. Abby and I had offered to help but were
informed that we’d probably just be in the way.

He took both of my hands in his and looked me
in the eye, “Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

I nodded yes, “I have to go to a gallery
opening at five tonight… Will you be done by then? Do you want to
go?”

“A gallery opening?” he asked, looking
surprised, “Why?”

“I have some paintings in a place downtown.
It’s a friend of Bill’s.”

He looked stricken, “Why didn’t you tell me
before? I should have gotten started earlier…”

I smiled ruefully, for it wasn’t as if he
could work any harder than he already did. “It’s okay… I only found
out yesterday. Shayla’s gonna go with me. I know how busy you
are…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “It’s just that–”

I cut him off, “It’s okay! I’ll see you first
thing tomorrow.”

Then he kissed me, and I could feel the
urgency behind it. I was leaving the morning after the rally, and
the weight of our impending separation was weighing on both of us.
I thought about being alone with him at my studio and snuggled
closer with a shiver. Maybe it was finally time.

“Tomorrow is my last day before I leave for
Paris,” I whispered in his ear.

“I know,” he groaned, “I wish this whole
rally thing was over already. It’s taking up too much time. I never
have enough time…”

“I want to take you somewhere afterwards,
okay?”

“Where?” he asked.

“Just say yes.”

“Yes it is.”

We parted reluctantly and I watched him drive
away. When I walked into the house Cruz was waiting by the door
with the same sympathetic look as Abby on his face. It didn’t suit
him.

“I’m sorry for flipping you crap out there… I
didn’t know about the crazy cat lady.”

I shook my head at his choice of words,
stepping up to give him a hug. He could be caustic and snarky
sometimes, but I loved him for who he was, and I could never
imagine him being any other way.

“Cruz– you’re such a pain. Don’t ever
change.” I drew back, “Hey! Do you want to go to a gallery opening
tonight?”

Shayla arrived within the hour, walking in to
announce, “A Ferrari! Oh my God! Can someone take me for a
drive?”

I ushered her to my room and we had fun
getting ready, joking and laughing, playing around with our hair
and makeup. She put on a dress Cruz had made for her and I slipped
into an edgy looking black shift with an asymmetrical neckline. I
adjusted the aquamarine around my neck and smoothed back my
hair.

“Do I look like an artist?” I asked.

We emerged from my room, fully fluffed and
primped. Cruz was waiting on the couch with his mom.

“You two girls look like you just stepped out
of a magazine,” gushed Abby.

Cruz jumped up to adjust the draped neckline
on Shayla’s dress, standing back to inspect it critically, “Lose
the belt,” he said.

“Cruz!” Abby scolded.

“It’s alright,” Shayla told her seriously,
“He’s always right when it comes to fashion.”

Abby and I exchanged a look and I shrugged.
Cruz could be obnoxious sometimes– but he
was
right. It did
look a lot better without the belt.

Shayla folded her long legs into the Ferrari
and I followed them in my car. We agreed to meet up at the gallery,
and the three of us walked in together, joining a sophisticated
looking group of art aficionados. There was a table set up in the
back with fruit and cheese, where Susan stood pouring a glass of
wine for a businesswoman type in a navy blazer. Her light brown
hair was pinned up in a no-nonsense bun, and she was accompanied by
a good looking young man dressed in casual clothes.

“Marina,” Susan smiled when she looked up to
see me. “Come and meet some of your admirers.” They looked up in
anticipation, and I imagined I saw a flicker of recognition in the
woman’s eyes.

I was a little taken aback, but stepped
forward to shake hands with a friendly smile.

“This is Barbara Watson and her nephew
Bradley,” said Susan. “Bradley works at a design firm in the city
and just bought three of your pieces for a house he’s doing in
Sausalito.”

“Uhm, thank you,” I said nervously, “Which
ones?” He gestured to the wall, pointing out the pictures with
little red dots placed on the title cards.

“My clients are absolutely going to
luuve
them,” Bradley said enthusiastically, running his
fingers through his bleached blond hair, “They’re really into the
whole ocean-beachy thing.”

“I hope so,” I said.

“They’re just lovely, dear,” his aunt chimed
in, touching my arm. She seemed a little overly friendly, and the
hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

I took a step back and introduced Cruz and
Shayla to them. Cruz asked Bradley about his work and they drifted
off together, engrossed in an animated conversation about art,
design, and the best places to go for dim sum in San Francisco.

Shayla and I wandered around the gallery,
taking our time to go through the eclectic variety again. I was
impressed by her astute observations about both the art and the
people discussing it; she made me laugh out loud more than once.
What Shayla lacked in education, she made up for in intuition, and
she had moxie to spare. I realized she’d probably do very well in
Paris, and it made me smile.

“It looks like Cruz found a friend,” she said
knowingly, nodding towards him. “Maybe he’ll lighten up a little
now.”

Cruz and Bradley stood side by side, dark and
light heads contrasting as they discussed the art, gesturing
expansively. They seemed oblivious to everyone else in the
room.

“Marina!” Cruz finally rushed up excitedly,
his eyes brighter than usual. “You’re not gonna believe this!” He
went on to tell me that Bradley’s aunt was running in the special
election for Congressman Hill’s vacated seat.

“And check this out– She’s a total greenie!
She works with some kinda marine biology research center, she’s
completely opposed to the land development, and here’s the best
part– if she gets elected… she can make it
all
go
away!
”

“Really?” I said, looking across the room to
meet her eyes. Bradley was talking to her, and he looked up and
smiled at Cruz.

Wow, I thought, how’s that for serendipity?
Once again I was forced to admit that my muse powers had to be in
play here. That must have been what I’d felt when I met her. Good!
I’d do anything to save that land for Lue and Ethan. I smiled and
nodded to Barbara Watson.