Toph's Empty Year - 14. Early March

Fall begins, as it often does, with the first hint of a chill. Thinking back, one can neither remember the exact day nor experience which suggested the warmth would not return. Gradually, inexorably, winter moves in. Cold fronts replace the gentle indications afforded by the liberality of autumn. One’s outlook on nature subtly shifts to a defensive posture.

Thoughts of understanding or forgiveness harden much as water freezes into ice. One’s winter is not the season for resemblant considerations of charity. Endure we must. We wait for that first moment when the warmth of the Sun overtakes the cold of the air. It is the moment we realize the season has changed.

Astronomically, the vernal equinox would occur on March 20 this year. The ending of my winter took place at the end of February, with that kiss. I could not remember the particular moment when my attraction to Gary became blunted by suspicion, only to slide into mistrust. The cold front which had shut him out gave me frostbite too. The kiss felt as healing to me as I believe it did to him.

No, it did not lead to mad, passionate sex. One does not pick strawberries on that first warm day. What had occurred was an acceptance of our mutual attraction, without minimizing nor ignoring the issues which still remained to be resolved. Somehow, we tacitly understood there was no great hurry. They would all be determined in a time frame not to be compacted.

I believe Gary was surprised. Even I was somewhat taken aback by my impulsive kiss. But in my mind, the stars had aligned. The aura surrounding him had become warmer. It was time to take a step. We did nothing more that night. I cuddled comfortably into his side. We talked of many things. We remained on the sofa, in the exact spot until Anders came home. He said no words, greeting us with a huge smile. I’m sure there was a phone call to Joanne once he shut the door to his room.

March began my slow climb from the depths into which I had fallen. I honestly believe resolving Austin and Nico threw a silent switch in my outlook. Matters on all fronts seemed to be promising and moving forward. I had an interesting job in the field I love, working for Naomi, whom I also love and respect. The goal of preparing my portfolio for applying to Abington had intersected with my desire to paint. Gary had made sure my body and mind were both exercising. He had rewarded my trust with sound advice. My TALON compatriots had become wonderful allies. Early March had truly stepped me toward my twentieth birthday at a brisk pace. Today you will discover, there was much to relate.

Naomi has allowed my hours to match Gary’s. One result was Gary and I continued to alternated between the gym and tennis on weekdays after work. He asked if I would be interested in attending a symphony concert in the city. Of course, I agreed. My musical taste has always been rather eclectic and the local ‘band’ is pretty good. He obtained tickets for the first Saturday of the month.

The concert featured two large works. The first half was a relatively recent and beautiful composition, the Missa Pro Pace of Wojciech Kilar, a great contemporary Polish composer. The second half was the anguishing, intense fifth symphony of Shostakovich, which always brings me to tears if performed correctly. It was. Gary was surprised I had such an emotional reaction to the Shostakovich. Although, knowing the story of that work, how could one not? [1]

We came back to Earth by visiting a small local restaurant, where the most delicious hot-dogs are grilled over charcoal right before you. It seems all our tastes are eclectic. My next project was to get Gary into some normal-people clothes. The very next day I dragged him to a large mall on the outskirts of the city, near the airport. Armani may be fine for his position, but the designer clothes he usually relaxes in are not relaxing, at least not to my eye.

In spite of the fact that Gary was a very finicky dresser, we got him outfitted so he would look at home even eating at Happy’s. He helped me buy some clothes for my taller, slimmer frame. Each time I look in the mirror, it seems a new Toph stares back at me.

The next day I began working at Naomi’s. It was surprising to learn how many customers she has, although there were long stretches of time with no business. I soon fell into the rhythm of the place. By week’s end, I knew when I had time to paint and when I would be helping clients. Practically all Naomi’s customers are regulars. I can already tell we will be a happy family of friends before long. Most of my day was spent in conversation with some wonderful people.

During my painting stretches, I was able to finish the balloon man with children I had sketched at Niles’ park. I began another painting from park sketches. I also brought Austin home to finish his portrait there. Naomi insisted I hang my few finished paintings – including Nico, Ian and his boyfriend, and the balloon man – on the wall behind the counter, intermixed with her own works. When Austin was finished, he’d go there too. All this happened in the very first week! I took an hour Friday to visit my credit union. I’ll explain the results a little later.

Saturday morning found me sketching scenes around the old post office. It was while making these sketches that an idea blossomed. I should create a theme for part of my portfolio. The theme will be New Glory. I’d create a painted slice of life of this little town. There are so many interesting and, I am certain, historic places. However, there needed to be a more personal connection. I knew only Abigail could give that to me.

After my busy morning of sketching, I could not resist the siren song of lunchtime at Happy’s. I was halfway through a cup of tea when I sensed Betty looking past my shoulder. Sure enough, I was joined at the counter, but not by Big Joe. It was Gary. He looked so handsome in his new clothes.

“What a pleasant surprise! Oh, Betty, this is my apartment mate Gary. Gary, Betty.”

“The Pleasure is mine. I finally get to meet the famous Betty. Toph talks about you often.”

Betty smiled and gave me a certain look. I could easily see Betty thought Gary was more than what my introduction implied. Either Betty was wrong for once, or a little prescient. He ordered coffee and one of Happy’s Saturday specials, a Reuben.

“So, what brings you to Happy’s today.”

“I figured you’d be here. I wanted to experience a Saturday lunch with you.”

“Oh my! I see there’s hope for you yet.” I smiled, but was prevented from further banter by the arrival of Big Joe. He was on his way to a stool a few farther down the counter. I waved him over and introduced Gary. We three had an enjoyable lunch. Gary and Big Joe appeared to hit it off well. Gary even promised to visit Cucire’s tailor shop soon.

After lunch, we left to have a leisurely stroll home in the warming climate. It was on our walk it occurred to me that two of my yards had just merged, without any effort on my part.

Once Joanne determined no one had reservations anywhere, that Saturday became a bonding night. She didn’t really need to push us together. Gary and I were in unspoken agreement on the deliberate pace of getting to know one another. Joanne was too cute and irresistible though. Her alleged mission was to help teach Gary to cook. Of course, that meant I was to teach Gary to cook. Anders became the laugh track in the kitchen.

“Toph, are you sure you’ve progressed beyond heating canned soup?”

I gave Gary a mock cold stare. “I actually knew my way around the kitchen before I arrived here. Our evil maid, Elizabeth, didn’t like me for some reason. I had to prepare all my meals when my parents weren’t eating in, which was often. Helping Joanne gave me the opportunity to improve. She’s a wonderful teacher.”

“So you were only toying with us?”

“No. The soup was expedient and I didn’t want to mess up your kitchen.”

Anders chuckled. “You mean Joanne’s kitchen.”

“Certainly, but I didn’t even know Joanne existed when I arrived. You hid her away somewhere.” I turned to Joanne. “I hope he gave you some bread and water, wherever you were being held.”

Everyone was now loosened up and we began working. As Joanne and I went through our normal routines, I had Gary mimic everything I did. I had to teach him how to chop vegetables and not his fingertips, how to sauté but not flambé, and how not to poison us all by cross contamination. The end result was a respectable chicken cordon bleu and a resplendent smile on Gary’s face. Thinking about it more, I’ll bet this was Joanne’s goal after all.

We began the dinner preparation late. By the time we finished eating, there was only about an hour for the four of us to relax in the living room. It was a pleasant time with friendly discussion. Before Anders drove her home, I kissed Joanne and thanked her. I think Gary did too. We were alone for about an hour before Anders returned. We sat on the sofa to talk about inconsequential things. I had news from the credit union but didn’t want business to interfere with the lovely mood Joanne had helped create. Instead, Gary and I shared our second kiss. I’ve discovered that resting my head in that little spot on his chest, just below his shoulder blade, is becoming my favorite place to exist.

The next morning found us alone. Anders and Joanne were off to church and then to Sunday brunch. It was the perfect opportunity to go over some unfinished business with Gary. I also had the credit union news to discuss. Having brewed a fresh pot of coffee, I poured us each a cup and began.

“The money deposited into my account was from my mother.”

“I was certain it was.”

I felt a momentary flush of irritation, but immediately calmed myself. I could not believe Gary had intentionally tried to do me harm. I needed to listen to him. I also knew, if only given the time and opportunity, he would fill in so many gaps which had perplexed me.

“Because you told her where I banked?”

“Because she asked where you banked. I only knew it was a credit union. She did the rest.”

“You knew she was going to wire me money?”

“I was 99 percent sure.”

“This didn’t bother you?”

“She explained you had been cheated. Your siblings were each given money to attend school. By your impetuous running away – her words – you missed out on what was your rightful share.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I did then. I don’t now.”

“That money in my account was her way to exert control over me. I’m sure she expected I would begin spending it. Once I was in her debt, she no doubt anticipated she could force me to do whatever she wished.”

Taking a gulp of coffee to calm myself, I made sure our eyes were connected.

“Gary, in her world she must control everything!”

“I came to that conclusion when you explained what Niles told you about your sister’s wedding. Your mother is a manipulative, controlling woman who has the money and power to actually be dangerous. I owe you an apology.”

“I should have let you go to work in the axe suit that day last fall. Maybe you would have fired her.” We both laughed at that.

“You don’t think she needs to work, do you?”

“Of course not. It’s a little power play against my father. It’s probably good she is employed though.”

“Why?”

“It keeps her off the streets for forty hours a week. Everyone is a little safer.”

“So Toph, what are you going to do about the money?”

I went into my room and returned, handing Gary a cashier’s check for $50,125 made out to my mother.

“Very clever Toph, the money is already out of your account. Tearing up the check would do her no good.”

“Well, it was the credit union manager who was clever. I explained what I wanted. She told me how to do it.”

“The extra $125 is... ?”

“The interest it earned while in my account.”

“Why didn’t you simply wire it back? Her account number would have been on the original wire.”

“I wanted to write a note of explanation. It will accompany the check by certified mail.”

“Have you written the note?”

“Not yet. After I do write it, I want you to read it.”

“Why me?”

“I know you’ll tone it down so it appears to come from a civilized person. I’ll need to get all the venom out of me by writing my first draft. I think it will be very therapeutic.” We chuckled again.

“Are we good now, Toph?”

“We were good before. I just needed to understand how things happened. I didn’t really think you were in league with her. At least not lately.” I gave Gary a sly smile, but then got serious. “From something Niles told me, I think she offered Steve money. It’s why he did what he did and moved on with that other boy.”

“Do you think she bribed him so he would leave you?”

“No. That doesn’t make sense. She wanted the two of us at Christmas dinner for some reason. I think money was involved, but I’m not quite sure how. I firmly believe he drifted away from me because of it. Again, I can’t quite see the plan she had, but her fingerprints are all over it.”

“Would he tell if you asked him?”

“Maybe it’s too soon. In a couple of months I’ll ask him.”

I spent the rest of the day painting. Around five o’clock, Gary walked in.

“Is that Austin?”

“Yes. I think he’s finally finished.”

“He is very handsome. Was he your boyfriend?”

“Yes, he is beautiful. He was my only lover in high school, but he wasn’t exclusive. We weren’t boyfriends.”

“The day you arrived, you said you were coming from a divorce. Did you mean Austin?”

“Oh, God no. It was the divorce from my family.”

“Do you have any plans for supper?”

“Tomato soup?”

“Let’s go out for Thai.”

“It’s a date. Ooops!” That produced more chuckles from the two of us since we haven’t decided to date yet.

Wednesday was the March TALON meeting. Of course, Naomi’s shop and everything else in New Glory was closed. I was shocked as I entered the room. Apparently Naomi had brought the paintings, which I had so far finished, and displayed them on a side table. Once the meeting began, everyone complimented my work. I explained my concept of creating a set devoted to life in New Glory. I asked their opinion. Would this be a good idea for part of my Abington portfolio? Everyone was receptive, but Luke made a further proposition.

“Toph, when you’re finished, I’d like to feature them in an exhibit at the gallery. I’ll give you a room and we’ll come up with a suitable name. I’ll advertise it. Perhaps we can get some important people from the city to drop in. It certainly won’t hurt your career.”

“That’s very kind of you, Luke.”

Next I turned to Abigail. “I’ll need to meet with you about the significance of some of my locations. Maybe you can suggest some additional ones.”

Luke was not finished. “Before we get the exhibit organized, do you think you could loan the gallery that portrait of the two men in love? I envision it featured right in the foyer. Every visitor would need to pass by it. You have created a very striking work.”

When the meeting concluded, I accompanied Abigail to her home. She pointed out the meaning of some details in the few sketches I had finished. More importantly, she provided a wealth of information and suggestions about other places to visit. I had quite a list of locations to sketch and ultimately paint. My project was rapidly taking shape.

As the middle of the month approached, Gary was central to my thoughts. First, he was up to something. Not even when I was being cold to him did he ever sneak around the way he had over the last few days. It was nothing sinister though. It was my approaching birthday. The fact it was on a Sunday this year made it even worse. My birthday also happens to be on St. Patrick’s Day. In any other family, a red-haired son would no doubt have been named Patrick. But, of course, that name didn’t begin with a C. I guessed my job over this week was to pretend I didn’t notice what was happening.

Another thing which involved Gary was that note to Mother. It would accompany the check returning her money. Instead of two, there were three notes. No one saw the first but me. That was my therapeutic note. The one where I accused her of everything bad ever befalling our family. She was described as manipulative, bossy and basically evil. I implied she had somehow made Steve break up with me. I accused her of hiding the fact I was adopted, since no way could I share any genetic material with her. That was the pleasant part. Naturally, I destroyed it. But it was ever so much fun to write!

In the second note, I expressed indignation at having her place money into my account without my knowledge. I explained she had no right to interfere with my life in this monetary way. It went along those lines for about a full page, but that was the gist. When I showed it to Gary, he suggested I try a different tack.

“If you go after someone’s motives so overtly, they will become defensive and find reasons to justify their action. Why not employ a more subtle approach? One where you appear to be innocently accepting her higher motivation, but reject the money on more personal grounds. In that way, she won’t be able to work around your argument, but will understand you know – you know she knows – and you know she knows you know.”

“Are you sure you’re not in the diplomatic corps?”

“Well, let’s just say I have some experience dealing with rich, manipulative people.”

With Gary’s help, we composed the following concise note:

Dear Mother,

Thank you for the loan of the money. While I didn’t need to spend any, its mere presence in my account allowed me to purchase a car, replacing my unreliable one. I am firmly on my feet now. The enclosed cashier’s check repays your advance, including the interest your funds earned in my account. This will avoid any unpleasant income tax complications for either of us.

Very truly yours,

Christopher Denny

I thought it mirrored the warmth of her invitation to Christmas dinner. Saturday, I placed it in an envelope with the check and went to the post office, sending the money on its way back home by certified mail. I spent most of the rest of the afternoon following Abigail’s recommendations for sketches around town. I usually found interesting people to include with the sketches. Her list was long. It would take me several weeks to complete it. Meanwhile, I intended to begin the paintings during work, when I had down time at Naomi’s. Not abandoning Oscar’s advice, I also jotted a few notes for stories, as I thought about the human subjects in those drawings.

In one of the sketches, two young pre-teen girls were sitting on a bench in front of an old bank building, which was now a bridal shop. Abigail had explained the interesting history of the original bank, its demise and subsequent rebirth as a shop. It was ornate and made a great backdrop for the drama of the girls. The contrast between formal columns of the building, formal bridal gowns in the window and the girls, casually dressed in tees and shorts was stark. Their brothers could have dressed in identical clothes. Each had a skateboard leaning against their bench as they hotly discussed – a boy? The combination of their dress, mode of travel and subject of discussion was a rich breeding ground for a potential little story. Thanks Oscar! I believed the finished painting would be so much more fascinating by including this human interest story, revealing itself before the unfeeling architecture.

As the first half of March drew to a close, I can’t emphasize enough how different I felt. It reflected the parallel closing of my twentieth year of life. For the first time, I had hope for my future on all fronts. I was succeeding in breaking down fences both within me and between the world and me. I didn’t think I’d yet given anyone complete access to my innermost me, but also for the first time, I could foresee that day.

Optimism.