Precious Gifts (25 page)

There were tears rolling down her cheeks as a doctor walked into the room, wearing a surgical cap and mask and dark blue surgical pajamas. She assumed he must have just gotten out of surgery, when he came over to the bed to examine her, and Véronique waited to see what he'd say. So far the only thing anyone ever asked her was if she'd been to the bathroom and how she was doing on her crutches. She was feeling sorry for herself when the doctor announced that he was sorry, but they had decided to amputate the arm and leg. Her eyes flew open wide then, and she stared at the doctor and started to laugh in amazement.

“Oh, you shit! I almost believed you.” He had pulled the mask down by then, and was kissing her. It was Aidan. “What are you doing here? I love you, thank you for coming!” She had never been as happy to see anyone in her life.

“It was the thing you mentioned about not being able to pull your own underpants up that actually caught my attention. I thought it was only fair that I come over to help you, although I'm much better at pulling them down than up,” he said as he took off the surgical cap and stepped out of the pajamas. She was laughing and was thrilled that he was there. “And since your wretched children don't take care of you properly, I thought I would. I would have worn a nurse's costume, but I look like bloody hell in drag.” He sat down in the chair next to her, and the loving look that passed between them was worth everything she had just been through. “When can you go home?”

“Tomorrow. But I have to practice on the crutches.”

He shared her breakfast with her when it came, and she told him to go to the apartment and settle in. Carmina would be there, and she gave him her keys so he'd have them. She told him to stay in her bedroom. And he left a little while later to clean up after the plane. She called Carmina and told her he was coming, and offered no further explanation.

He called her when he got to the apartment. “All right, I'm not freaking out this time. But I just thought I'd ask. The Renoir and Degas, and all these lovely little pictures you have around the place, I assume they're real and were your grandfather's. Correct?”

“Yes,” she said in a small voice, hoping he wouldn't panic again. “Is that okay?”

“No, it's dreadful, and I think you should sell them. Woman, this place is a museum. I still have no idea what you're doing with me. And by the way,” he said sternly, “what the hell is that portrait doing in your kitchen?” She realized that the painting she had started of Nikolai had been sitting there when she went to the art store.

“It's a commission. He offered to pay me a hundred thousand dollars.”

“Take it,” Aidan said, but didn't sound pleased about it. He was still jealous of him.

“I bargained him down to five or ten,” she said, laughing, and slightly embarrassed that she hadn't told Aidan sooner.

“You're a real businesswoman. I should be angry at you for not telling me, but since you're an invalid, I'll give you a pass this time. Just don't do it again.”

“I won't. But he's harmless. It's just a commission.”

“I certainly hope so. If it was more than that, I'd have to kill him.” He was joking, but she could hear that he was upset, more about the portrait than her art collection. The house he'd seen in Paris had prepared him. “I like your Paris apartment better, by the way,” he added, “it's more human scale and cheerier. This is a bit serious for me. The art is fabulous though.” He had taken a tour of her paintings while Carmina watched him with suspicion, afraid he would turn out to be an art thief. She had no idea who he was, but Véronique had given him carte blanche, and he had put his bag down in her bedroom, which said a lot. “I'll be back in a while. Can I bring you anything?” he offered.

“Just you. I'll need clothes to go home in tomorrow. They cut my jeans off when I came in. But we can figure that out tonight.”

“I'll be back shortly,” he promised, and half an hour later he was in her hospital room again with a big bouquet of flowers and a huge teddy bear balloon to cheer her up. He had bought the balloon at the hospital gift shop, and it was holding a blue banner that said “It's a Boy!”, which made her laugh when she saw it.

“Thank you so much for coming,” she said again, and they kissed for a long moment, and a nurse walked in and smiled.

“Well, you're looking a lot happier today,” she commented as Véronique beamed. “How are you doing on those crutches?” She hadn't tried them again, and Aidan and the nurse tried to help her get the hang of it, but with the cast on her wrist, and her wrist hurting, it wasn't easy. The nurse suggested she take a wheelchair home, too, which would be safer if she went out.

“I feel a hundred years old,” Véronique said, frustrated and annoyed, but she was better than he had feared. She had sounded awful on the phone.

He spent the day with her, and eventually jet lag caught up with him. He lay down next to her on the bed when she made room for him, and he went to sleep while she read a magazine the nurse had brought her. He was sleeping peacefully with his head on her shoulder at six o'clock, when Timmie walked into the room and stared at them. Timmie appeared almost as tired and worn out as her mother. They both had dark circles under their eyes.

“
Who
is that?” Timmie asked, with an outraged expression.

“A friend from London. He flew over to see me,” Véronique said, trying to sound calmer than she felt. She felt like a kid who had been caught by her mother, kissing her boyfriend.

“What's he doing in your bed?” Timmie was shocked. She had no idea who he was or why he was sound asleep on her mother's bed.

“He's sleeping. He just got in.”

“What the hell is this?” Timmie asked as Aidan woke up and stared at her. He figured out immediately who she was, from the fierce look on her face, and he sat up next to her mother.

“I'm Aidan Smith,” he said calmly, “and I came over to take care of your mother, since no one else showed up to do it.” He got off Véronique's bed then, stood to his full height, and extended a hand to her as he crossed the room. “I assume you must be Timmie. Rotten luck, this accident,” he said coolly. Timmie shook his hand but withdrew hers quickly. She wasn't prepared for Aidan's calm demeanor. Trapped in the bed, Véronique was mildly embarrassed.

“What is going on here?” Timmie asked, sounding like a police sergeant. “Is there something I should know?” She glared at her mother with accusing eyes.

“I don't think so,” Aidan answered coolly. “Unless you'd like to explain why you were too busy to see your mother. Your mother was actually fine with it. I, however, found it somewhat distressing. I daresay, she'd have come to the hospital for you.” Timmie was so shocked by what he said that she didn't answer for a minute, and the three of them just stared at each other. “I don't have children,” he went on, “but if I did, and I were in the hospital with broken bones, I would want them to visit me.”

“I had a client crisis. She died in fact, and I had to deal with the hospital, the police, and her children in foster care.” Timmie sounded hostile as she said it, and furious at what Aidan said. “And I had an important meeting last night,” she added sternly, but he had taken the wind out of her sails. And whoever he was, he was clearly not frightened of her. And it was easy to see that he obviously had a close relationship with her mother. She wondered what she had been up to recently. “You seem to have a life we know nothing about, Mother,” Timmie said angrily, and as she said it, she remembered their recent conversation about their mother questioning them about how they would feel if she had a man in her life. Clearly, it had been a loaded question and not as innocent as it appeared. “What have you been doing?” Timmie asked her pointedly.

“Aidan and I have been spending time together since this summer,” she said simply. “We met in Rome.” She didn't list all the other cities where they'd been, or Timmie would have fainted on the spot, and she looked like she was going to split a gut as it was.

“Is this serious?” Timmie asked her. It wasn't the time or place Véronique would have chosen to answer the question, but she had no choice now. And she didn't want to betray Aidan by denying it. He had come through for her, and she felt she owed it to him to be honest with her daughter.

“It seems to be,” Véronique said quietly.

“Nice of you to tell us,” Timmie said with fire in her eyes, and she turned around and walked out of the room.

Véronique and Aidan looked at each other, as he stood next to the bed. He could see that Véronique was upset.

“Are you okay?”

“I think I am,” she said quietly, as he sat down next to her. “She wouldn't have liked it whenever I told her. I think they like it better when I'm alone. It's easier for them.” And they didn't have an audience when they treated her badly or ignored her. Timmie clearly hadn't liked Aidan calling her on not coming to visit sooner. It hadn't been loving or attentive of her, but Véronique knew that was Timmie, and she'd obviously had a crisis to deal with, for her client, which hadn't gone well.

Véronique sent her a text a little while later. “Sorry that was awkward. Thank you for coming to visit. I love you.” It was all she wanted to say at the moment.

Timmie called both her sisters the moment she got home. As soon as they each answered the phone, she said, “Mom had an accident, and she has a boyfriend.” The difference between Joy and Juliette was evidenced by their reactions. Juliette immediately asked what kind of accident, in a worried tone. And Joy said just as quickly, “Who's the boyfriend?” She told both of them what had happened, and about meeting Aidan at the hospital. Juliette was upset that their mother hadn't called her.

“She probably didn't want to worry you,” Timmie said practically. And she told them that Aidan looked younger than their mother, and they seemed to be serious about each other. “He was asleep on her bed when I walked in,” she told Joy, “and he gave me shit for not coming sooner.”

“You didn't go to see her right away?” Joy asked her, sounding shocked.

“I couldn't. I was too busy yesterday and today. One of my clients got beaten to death by her boyfriend and I had to deal with her kids. And I had to run a staff meeting last night.” Timmie sounded faintly embarrassed as she justified it, but at least she hadn't been getting her hair done. She had been dealing with a tragic situation, which her mother was not.

“So how did he get into it?” Joy asked with interest. She would never have suspected it of their mother.

“He flew over from London, to take care of her, he said. I don't know where she's been hiding him, but he's here now, and he doesn't look like he's going anywhere soon.”

“He must think we're awful”—Juliette sounded mortified—“with none of us with her. Is she okay?”

“I don't know. I guess so. She has two casts on. I never got to talk to her. I was so pissed off, I walked out.”

They had both asked where she was, and Timmie told them Lenox Hill. And both girls called her after talking to Timmie. Neither of them mentioned Aidan, and Véronique smiled at him after she hung up. Both girls had been very sympathetic.

“The jungle drums are beating,” she said with amusement.

“Did they say anything about me?” he asked her.

“Not a word.”

“I'm sorry I locked horns with Timmie in the first five minutes, but I didn't like her attitude.”

“Maybe it's good for her. It wasn't right of her not to come sooner,” Véronique conceded. “I'm so glad you're here, though.” And then she looked apologetic. “I'm not going to be much fun with these stupid casts on.” She could still barely hobble across the room after practicing that day.

“We'll manage,” he said with a wicked look.

“That's not what I meant,” she laughed at him, and then she lay back against her pillows and grinned. “Well, welcome to the family, Aidan. You've met Timmie. Now you have to meet the other two.”

“I can hardly wait,” he said, as he lay on the bed with her again. “It should be interesting, but I'm much more intrigued by their mother.”

All three girls had a lot to think about after what Timmie had told them. It was something they never thought they'd have to deal with, a man in their mother's life. And a younger man.

Timmie told Brian about it when they had dinner in her neighborhood that night. It was their second date.

“Does it really surprise you?” He seemed startled that it would. “She's a beautiful woman.” And she hardly looked older than her daughters.

“Yes, it does,” Timmie admitted. “She's been alone forever. My father always had lots of women. But my mother never had anyone. A few dates here and there, but nothing serious since my father. And she was very devoted to him.”

“It sounds like she's due for someone in her life,” he said sensibly. “I hope he's a nice guy. She deserves one,” he said kindly, and Timmie didn't say a word.

T
immie went to visit her mother on Sunday afternoon, after calling first. And Aidan opened the door to the apartment. She was chilly with him when she walked in and ignored him after that. They had gotten off on the wrong foot. And she didn't stay long. Véronique was hobbling around on her crutches, and she was still in pain. And Joy and Juliette had called her. But all of them were busy. Joy was learning her lines for the soap she was still on, and they were still waiting to hear about the cosmetics campaign. And Juliette was working on the château with Jean-Pierre. They had had a near disaster on Friday when a plumber doing some welding work had caused a small fire, but fortunately they had put it out before it did too much damage. Still it had unnerved them both, and he was helping her clean up the mess over the weekend. And Elisabeth Marnier had come to help them.

Timmie had made her offer on the house for her shelter, and was waiting for an answer. She told her mother about it when she came to visit, and she looked excited. Aidan left them alone while they talked. And then he came back to walk Timmie out when she left. She gave him an icy look, didn't answer him when he said goodbye, and closed the door sharply behind her.

“She loves me,” he said to Véronique with a wry smile. “She's just afraid to show it.” She hoped that the two would make peace soon, but Timmie had made no comments about him. She didn't dare. But she was being more careful with her mother, and more respectful. Both Brian's and Aidan's comments had gotten to Timmie. Véronique's accident had shaken them all. It could have been a lot worse.

Véronique and Aidan had played cards and watched movies all weekend, so when Timmie left, he went out for a while with his camera, and was happy when he came back. He said he had gotten some great shots in the park, and he made them a delicious pasta dinner, and afterward he did some work on his computer. He had brought some of his work with him, so he could stay with her in New York as long as she needed him, and after she got her casts off, he wanted her to come to London, and she said she would. It would be December by then. It seemed like a lifetime away as she hobbled around on her crutches.

And on Monday, she got back to work on Nikolai's portrait. Aidan growled every time he walked past it, but he admitted, as she added to it, that it was very good. She was doing a great job, and studying the photographs and videos to help her bring life to it, and learn his expressions. She was meticulous in her work.

She was working on it a week after the accident when Arnold called her, and asked if she'd read the morning paper. She hadn't.

“Bertie was arrested yesterday,” he informed her in a somber voice, “for securities fraud. He's going to have much bigger problems now than the estate. If he's convicted, he's going to go to prison. I'm glad Paul didn't live to see it. It would have broken his heart.” But they both knew it wouldn't have surprised him. He had always predicted it could happen, and feared it would.

Véronique called Timmie immediately to tell her, and surprisingly Timmie picked up the phone. Brian had already called her. Véronique had assumed he would drop the lawsuit, but Timmie said that Brian thought he might still press for a settlement to pay for his criminal attorney, who would be costly and would not work on contingency.

“Are you on better terms with Brian now?” her mother asked her. Timmie had sounded quite mild about him.

“Actually I am,” Timmie said, seeming almost giddy. “He took me out to dinner twice. The first time he told me he'd quit if I still hated him at the end of dinner. We went to Twenty-one, and had a good time, so he didn't quit.” Véronique was amazed, and thought it had been a clever tactic. But she knew that Timmie was still on the warpath with Aidan, and Véronique hoped she'd get over it soon. It was hard to fault him, whatever they thought. He was being wonderful to her.

She called Joy and Juliette after that to tell them about Bertie, and neither of them was surprised. He had been rotten and dishonest for too long. It was bound to happen. Véronique commented afterward to Aidan that both girls sounded happy.

“I have a feeling that Juliette is involved with her architect in St. Paul de Vence,” she told him. And Joy was happy with Ron. “Timmie just told me she's going out with the litigator.” Everybody's life was on track at the moment. Except Bertie, who was headed for prison.

And over the next five weeks, while Aidan kept Véronique company, Timmie remained chilly but civil with him when she visited her mother. Her offer on the house had been accepted, and her shelter project could get under way. And eventually, Véronique got more skillful with her crutches.

Véronique had been worried about Thanksgiving, and the ongoing tension between Aidan and Timmie, but the holiday turned into a nonevent, which kept things simple. Juliette and Joy didn't come home. Timmie volunteered at a crisis center. And Aidan and Véronique were alone. Aidan cooked a chicken, and Véronique made traditional stuffing and everything that went with it, and they shared a quiet, cozy Thanksgiving with each other.

She finished Nikolai's portrait the week before they took off her casts. Even Aidan admitted that it was terrific. She e-mailed Nikolai jpegs of it, and he was thrilled and said it was splendid, and asked her to ship it to London. She sent it to him as a gift, and refused payment for it. She told him it had been a pleasure to do it and had gotten her painting again.

And her casts were finally taken off at last, the day after she shipped the portrait. Aidan took her out to dinner to celebrate, and he asked her that night when they could leave for London. He had been in New York with her for exactly five weeks. He felt completely at home with her there, and even Carmina had come to love him. But he needed to get back to London and work on his show. He had done as much as he could in New York, and had been incredibly patient about it.

“We can go as soon as you want after Christmas, or you can go now and I'll join you right after the holiday,” Véronique said gratefully. He'd been wonderful to her. “I need to be here for Christmas but nobody needs me here after that. The girls are all over the place. Timmie's busy. I'm all yours at the end of December,” she said with a peaceful look. “Or we can go now, and I'll fly back for Christmas, and come back to Europe right after.”

“Music to my ears,” he said. And they agreed to go three days later so he could catch up on work. And Véronique planned to return to New York for Christmas with her daughters, which seemed right to her and fair to Aidan.

She had dinner with Timmie before she left, who told her all about the house she'd bought. She was on budget so far. She had just given the foundation where she worked three months' notice, and she admitted that she was seeing a lot of Brian.

“What about you and Aidan?” she asked, looking worried. She still didn't like him, after their unpleasant beginning. But Véronique thought that all three girls were subtly nicer to her now that they knew he existed. Joy and Juliette called her a little more often, and Timmie was less aggressive, and a little more attentive to her mother.

“It seems to work. Very well, in fact,” Véronique said quietly. “I think you'd like him if you got to know him, and give him a chance.”

“It's weird that he's practically the same age as the man I'm going out with,” Timmie said in a plaintive tone. Aidan was two years older than Brian.

“It's not weird. It just is. Our age doesn't seem to matter to either of us,” Véronique said simply, with no apology to her daughter. “It works. We're different. We have our own ideas, he lets me be who I am. And he likes me. I'm happy with him.” She didn't know how else to describe it. Her relationship with Aidan was easy. And even Timmie had admitted to her sisters that he didn't seem to be after their mother's money. They had all looked at his work online, and he was respected in his field. And Véronique had never been happier. Even her daughters couldn't deny it.

“When are you coming back?” Timmie asked her.

“I'll be home for Christmas,” and as she said it Timmie looked sheepish.

“I won't be here, Mom,” Timmie said, looking apologetic. “Brian just invited me to Boston. And I'd like to go.” Véronique was startled and called Joy and Juliette that night to ask the same question. Joy was going to Saint Barts with Ron over the holidays, but hadn't told her mother yet. And Juliette hated to disappoint her mother, but she wanted to stay in France. So all of her daughters would be away for Christmas, and Véronique could spend it in London or Paris with Aidan. She told him the next morning at breakfast the day before they left.

“If you're expecting me to complain, don't,” he said, beaming at her. “How long can you stay in Europe?”

“Maybe a couple of months.” She smiled at him. Her girls were all busy and it made her more grateful than ever that he was in her life. She had a real opportunity to build a life with him now, and take time for herself. It was time.

Aidan and Véronique flew to London, and it felt great to be in his loft again. They were planning to stay there for ten days, so he could catch up, and then go to Paris for Christmas and New Year's and stay at her apartment for a while. And he had set up a corner for her in his apartment to paint if she wanted to. She planned to go to St. Paul de Vence with Aidan for a weekend so she could see Juliette's progress on the château, and meet Jean-Pierre. Apparently romance was blossoming at a rapid rate there, too.

They'd been back in London for a week, settling in, when Véronique got a call on her cell phone from Brother Tommaso in Venice right before Christmas. He said that he had an interesting provenance to discuss with her, but first he wanted her to send the painting. He promised to call her again as soon as he had seen it. She called Arnold immediately, and asked him to send it to Venice.

“What was that about?” Aidan asked her when she hung up.

“I don't know. Brother Tommaso said he has an interesting provenance to tell me about. He wants to see the painting now, so I had Arnold ship it to him. I can hardly wait for him to tell us.”

They spent Christmas at Véronique's apartment in Paris, just the two of them, and went to Christmas mass at Notre Dame. And New Year's Eve with Juliette in St. Paul de Vence, with Jean-Pierre. Véronique and Aidan both loved him, and the château was coming along faster than Véronique expected. And they spent January at her apartment in Paris. Brother Tommaso called them again in mid-January, and he asked Véronique to come to Venice. The painting had arrived safely, and he had examined it carefully. Aidan said it was like waiting to find out if they'd won the lottery, but he'd caught up on his work, and was willing to accompany her to Venice. They flew down on a Friday afternoon, and arrived at the monastery at four o'clock, as the brothers were going into the chapel for their evening service. It was a sunny winter day, and Venice looked more beautiful than ever.

Brother Tommaso was waiting for them in the library where he had first met them, and the Bellini was standing on an easel. He got up from his desk immediately to greet them, and say how happy he was to see them.

“I have had a wonderful time researching your painting,” he told Véronique, and then picked up a pointer and moved it, showing them important details that he had used to ascertain its veracity once he saw it.

Aidan couldn't stand the suspense any longer and asked him, “Is it a real Bellini?”

Brother Tommaso looked at them both seriously, and gave them an answer they didn't expect. “Is it a Jacopo Bellini? No, it's not.” Véronique's heart sank a little as he said it, but she wasn't surprised. She had always doubted its veracity, and she'd been right. “I researched it carefully since I last saw you, determined to attribute it to Bellini the father, Jacopo, and I simply could not do it. But my research led me to a very interesting painting that belonged to the first Earl of Dudley at the end of the nineteenth century.

“The painting was last exhibited publicly in 1955, and then surfaced again fifty-five years later to be sold at auction in 2010. The painting is called
The Madonna and Child in a Landscape,
and it was painted by Giovanni Bellini, Jacopo's son. Once I traced that painting, I was absolutely certain that your painting is the work of Giovanni, and not his father as I first thought. So you have a Giovanni Bellini, my dear, not a Jacopo. I have no question of it.”

Both Aidan and Véronique looked impressed by how thorough he had been and the end result. And then he added, almost as an afterthought, “Perhaps that it is a painting by Giovanni Bellini and not his father will be good news for you as well. Jacopo's work sells for somewhere between twenty and a hundred thousand dollars in today's art market. The painting by Giovanni Bellini that I mentioned sold for over five million dollars at Sotheby's in 2010. And your painting is a rare treasure and might sell for even more.” They both looked stunned by what he said.

“And the provenance is almost as remarkable as the artist,” he continued. “I found a record of it in some very old art books that we had in the library. First only a description of it, and then later it surfaced in two different editions. It was purchased by a French family here in Venice, at the turn of the century, and they took it to France with them. The one thing I do not know is how it found its way back here, when you bought it. But it had a long journey in between, and not always a happy one. The family that bought it were French bankers, by the name of Berger-Cohen, and it hung in their Paris home for many years. It passed to one of their children, their oldest son, I believe, in 1918. And it was in his possession until 1940.

“In 1940, we lost track of the piece completely. It simply disappeared. But we were able to trace the family to their sad fate. All of the Berger-Cohens were sent to labor camps in Germany during the Occupation of Paris, and to the best of our knowledge, none survived. They had a very extensive art collection, and pieces of it have surfaced in various places over the years. In Germany, in England, one in France, several in South America. All but a few have been placed in museums, because of their importance.