ARROW - 225. Chapter 225

I had a hard time when I turned 50 and I was having a hard time when I realized in five more years we will be 65. Colin seemed to accept this much better than I did. He turned the business over to Richie, who promptly hired a graduate of Yale’s business school. I laughed at Colin, every time Richie would stop at the house Colin would ask about the business. He would invite Richie into his office for a conference. I’m not sure what they discussed but Richie always left with a smile.

He was more involved with the club business than his other business.

With the children growing up and starting college, the house seemed empty. I spent a lot of time at the Home. Just when I thought everything was going well, Roger returned home from Paris. He didn’t look well, I was looking at 65, and Roger was looking at 95.

Pat had moved into the Home, and I convinced Roger to let his apartment go and move in with Colin and me. We had the bedroom on the first floor that Pat occupied. It took some talking but he soon agreed and the boys moved him. He had a lot of paintings from students over the years and agreed to hang them in the gallery but not for sale. I thought it was a great idea, and we advertised the showing of Professor Roger Steiner, Director of Painting, Yale University School of Arts, private collection. The day the gallery opened with the collection, Roger, Carl, and I were present. There were art critics present but the greatest joy for Roger was the students who painted these canvases attended the opening, it was like homecoming.

Jean made the trip for the opening and I knew it would be his last trip. For the next several days, we would sit in our living room, remembering and reliving our pasts together. When Jean let us return to Paris, I knew and so did Roger, that would be the last time we would see Jean.

Six months after Jean had visited us, Christian called to say Jean was in the hospital and it didn’t look good. There was no way Roger could fly, he wasn’t doing well and the news of Jean being hospitalized took a lot out of him. Colin rented a plane and the three of us flew over. I had flashbacks of Grandmere, seeing Jean lying there in the hospital bed hooked up to a drip and on ventilation.

Standing by his bed, he reached and took Roger’s hand, “See you upstairs.”

The doctor and nurses rushed in, I had to leave. This was a re-enactment of Grandmere’s death. Now Jean is gone. The only one left is Roger. Taking one look at Roger I knew it wouldn’t be long until he would join Arnaud and Jean.

Christian had Jean interred in Arnaud’s mausoleum. He said his dad wanted it that way and left instructions.

We flew home the same day of Jean’s interment.

Arriving home, sitting in the living room, we remembered Arnaud and Jean over a glass of wine. I watched Roger, he looked tired. Colin helped him to bed, I needed to talk to GG.

The next morning, Roger appeared in a good mood. He complimented Charles on breakfast, calling him Chef Boy. That led to reliving those days when Chef Boy prepared our meals at Grandmere’s house.

That evening after Roger turned in for the night, Colin and I discussed what we would do if Roger passed away. “I don’t know if he has any plans for his interment.”

“You can’t ask him.”

“I won’t but I know who will tell me,”

That night when I heard the rocking chair I asked GG. “He has no plans, no arrangements have been made. You and Colin have no plans either. You need to think about this while you can and have time to plan.”

In the morning before Roger joined us, I told Colin he didn’t have any plans.

Colin left as Roger arrived at the breakfast table. Charles set a crepe with scrambled egg before him and a cup of coffee. Sitting with us, he asked about Jean. I could see the tears in Roger’s eyes, “Jean is with Arnaud now.” I handed Roger a paper napkin as I pulled him onto my shoulder.

Looking at Charles I mouthed he would be okay. I knew Charles felt bad, we didn’t tell him last night.

The boys started to wake up and the noise level rose. Charles started making crepes for the boys, David came in and started with the orange juice and coffee. I helped Roger to the living room. Pierre brought me a cup of coffee, and Gerry brought Roger a cup.

I sat next to Roger on the sofa, with my arm around him, and let him talk.

“He was a good friend. Many nights we sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. He was married once. When his wife died, art became his new mistress. We laughed at some of the crazy art he found. Did you know there is an attic in the Louvre? He took me there, it was very dirty and contained several broken art pieces. He said most of it came from Africa, Egypt especially. I miss him. Arnaud is gone, Jean is gone and soon I’ll be gone as well. I’m old, you know. You were a good student. I especially liked our discussions. I knew I could count on you to stir things up.”

He became quiet. “Dad, here is a fresh cup of coffee. Is he sleeping?”

“Yes, I’ll hold him until he wakes.”

The boys left for school, Colin left for work, so he said. He turned the business over to Richie but he would go in every morning and then head for the club. I would see him for lunch either at home or the club.

Roger slept for about an hour. When he awoke, he was in a better frame of mind. That could only happen if he met GG. That was when I heard the creaking rocking chair.

We had lunch at the Home. I watched Roger, the children called him grandfather. He would look at me and smile.

Pepe told them that Grandfather taught art at Yale. They all knew about Yale. The lifeguards were from Yale.

I’m not sure who mentioned it to the children, they came with crayon drawings to show Grandfather. I watched as Roger praised each of them. He would remark on the colors and their style and then he would sign their drawing, approved by Professor Steinor, Yale University. I knew what was next. They wanted to frame it. Pepe looked at me, I nodded yes. I knew in a few days I would need to visit some rooms to see hanging pictures of crayon art.

For the rest of the week, we had lunch at the Home and dinner at the club. On occasion, Pat would go with us to the club.