Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Toph's Empty Year - 19. Late May
Charles called, twice actually, to thank me for his portrait and to congratulate me on my show, on my paintings and my decision to apply to Abington. We had told him about Abington over dinner when he was here. He asked if I had been in contact with anyone else from the family.
“Only Clarence’s apology text, when I was in Texas.”
“Do you want me to suggest anything to anyone? Maybe explain your exhibit? Recommend they contact you?”
“No. Please don’t. I’m not ready yet, and I’m pretty sure they aren’t either.”
“Anytime you want me to, I’ll pass along a message. Will you be at the wedding?”
“I’m still working it out in my mind.”
And so Charles remained the only family member I felt close to. I didn’t expect to hear anymore about my family until the wedding. But I was wrong. Friday arrived and Gary and I drove to the airport. Soon his car was secured in long-term parking; we were thoroughly inspected and finally airborne. It was a pleasant journey, as pleasant as flying can be, but at least it was a direct flight. Pleasant, that is, until near the end.
“Today your mother submitted her retirement papers for the end of the month. I thought you’d like to know.”
Gary broke this news to me while we were in the air, nearing Florida.
“You saved this news for the only moment when I couldn’t run away?”
He considered me, trying to determine if I were serious. I was getting better at keeping a neutral face; even better than he was. Realizing he was becoming uncomfortable, I leaned over to give him a quick kiss, followed by a smile.
“You’re evil, Toph.”
“Oh, no – you haven’t seen evil yet. Wait until she’s loose. As soon as we get back home, I’d better ask my brother Charles for Teddy’s number. The poor guy needs to be warned.”
“You don’t think she would retire just to meddle with your sister’s wedding.”
“No, of course not. Her plans are always much more complex and devious. Clarissa will be only one layer. I’m sure I will be another page in her war plan.”
It was after dark as we landed. He seemed to know where we were going, so I followed along down the arrival corridor. With nothing but our carry-on bags, there was no luggage hassle. Soon we were outside in the warm Florida evening. No sooner than we reached the curb, a shiny black Cadillac glided to a stop in front of us. The trunk popped and Gary, then I, loaded our bags. He opened the rear door and gestured for me to slide in. When he followed I heard the driver greet us with a very slight Spanish accent.
“Welcome back, Mr. Gary. I hope your flight was smooth.”
“Thank you, Rico, it was. This is my friend Toph. He’ll be joining us aboard Galene for the weekend.”
“Welcome to Florida, Mr. Toph. The crew and I will do everything possible to make your visit pleasant.”
The crew?
That question was answered soon after we arrived at the dock. Rico carried our bags as Gary and I boarded a small motorboat. I was searching the waters for our sailboat, but all I could identify was a well-lit yacht moored out in the harbor. Sure enough, Rico set a course directly for the yacht. As we approached, I could see it was a large sailing vessel, not the small craft I had expected.
“Rico, what is her length overall?”
“One hundred ninety feet.”
“What crew does she require?”
“The full complement is twelve. But this weekend we’ll only need five, including me. I also cook.”
As we came alongside, I couldn’t help but be overcome by its sleek beauty. I turned to Gary.
“This looks pretty new.”
“It is. It’s only two years old. My uncle had it designed to incorporate many technological advances. This was created for serious voyaging, which he intends to do when he retires in a few years.”
That description became obvious as we boarded. Also obvious, from the furled boom, was the fact we were on a very large sailing yacht. Gary’s cryptic comment last week that it didn’t matter if I knew how to sail made more sense now. We weren’t really sailing; we were on a cruise. It was the crew who would be sailing. I was a little disappointed in that.
It was late and we were tired. Gary led me down the companionway to our cabin, which was swank and impressive. I really had to reset my mind from what I had been expecting. Determined to enjoy the weekend, it only needed to be recalibrated a bit.
Everything became all right again when I was safely snuggled into his arms and gently rocked to sleep by the soft undulation of Galene on the calm Florida waters.
My early rising habit got me on deck immediately before dawn. The sky was brightening as I sat in a comfortable chair, facing aft, which allowed me an unimpeded view of the promising sunrise. Rico surprised me by setting down a tray containing a coffee urn, cream, sugar and two mugs.
“Thank you, Rico. I didn’t realize anyone was up.”
“Someone is always up, Mr. Toph. Do you need anything else?”
“No, no. This is wonderful. I’ll sit here and enjoy daybreak.
It wasn’t as beautiful as the Texas coast, but sunrise always offers the promise of a new day and, perhaps, a new beginning. It was a good time for contemplation. My mind returned to Gary and me. He called me his ‘friend’ to Rico. That did not sit well with me at the time, and it didn’t feel any better today. I knew it was my fault. He didn’t want to push me too hard.
I had to chuckle. We lived together. We slept in the same bed every night. We regularly made love, which was decidedly intense and satisfying. We spent most of our spare time together. Why did I have so much trouble calling our relationship what it was?
I realized the nametag didn’t really mean anything. It couldn’t make me more in love with him than I already was. It was only some stupid defense mechanism at work. Steve had been my boyfriend and it went bad. I was afraid of jinxing what Gary and I had by calling it what it really was. How foolish and infantile was I? A comparison to the blond Texas boy did not elude me. I flushed red.
“Good morning!” He gave me a sweet kiss. “Coffee! Great! How long have you been sitting on deck?”
“Since before sunrise.”
“I told Rico to get us underway.”
No sooner had he spoken than some young guys appeared on deck and I watched them prepare to do exactly that. The engines sprung to life and Galene glided toward the mouth of the harbor. The boys had her sails unfurled and I heard the engines cut off as we slipped out. Now we were on the water, rather than in it. There is no feeling as great as sensing yourself and your craft a part of the ocean. Engines drive you through the water; it’s always a conflict. On the other hand, sailing makes you a part of the water, you become one with it.
Gary said we were heading for a small island. It was nearly noon when he decided we could safely have a beer. On the way, after enjoying the feeling of life beneath me and jealously watching the boys at work, I broached the subject which worried me earlier.
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Toph.”
“I mean, I am in love with you.”
Gary’s eyes met mine. He kept them locked as he said, “I am in love with you, Toph. I am truly, completely in love with you.”
“I want this to be forever.” There, I finally had the balls to say it!
“That’s all I wish for.” He leaned over and gently kissed me.
“We’re boyfriends.” I had gained confidence.
“Yes we are. We’ve been for a while, you know.”
“I know. I only had trouble saying it.”
“Will you have any trouble saying it from now on?”
“No, Boyfriend, I won’t.”
Those words kicked off a stunning weekend where we sailed, visited some remote islands, picnicked, swam, sunbathed and made love. Rico turned out to be a great cook. We lived on Galene and, despite my original misgivings, I came to love her.
Late Sunday afternoon, Rico had returned us to port. We were in the Cadillac, on our way to the airport, when Gary promised me a real sailing week later in the summer off Maine, on a little boat his father owned. I wasn’t fooled by his use of the adjective ‘little.’ Knowing his father, I expected a bit more, but it would be a boat I could sail. That much, Gary promised.
We had arrived home late Sunday night and took the opportunity to sleep in. I was, as usual, awake early but seeing the contentment of my partner and still in his embrace, I didn’t budge from my warm cocoon. I began to remember some of the sketches I made over the weekend and that got my creative juices flowing. I could envision the colors conjured up for each of the various highlights which passed through my memory. Yes, I was sure there were several paintings queued, awaiting my labor to release them.
“How long have you been awake?”
“Hours.”
“You didn’t sneak away this time.”
“No. I was too comfortable in your arms.”
“My arms belong to you. I hope you’re always contented here.”
That earned him a kiss. But it was long past time to get up.
“I’m going to Naomi’s to begin painting some of the drawings from our trip. Are you going to work?”
“Yes. I’d better put in some hours. I’ll meet you at the gallery later, if you want.”
“I want.”
I did bring my drawings with me to Naomi’s and told her to take a break for a few hours. Mondays are usually slow for the store, so I was able to get well into my first painting, which was of the sleek craft, Galene, moored in that isolated cove where we skinny-dipped. After swimming, we had returned to dry off and dress. It was then we launched a small boat with a picnic and my sketchpad. I could still feel the warmth of the sun and my love as we explored and then ate on the little beach. That was when I made my sketch. It was gratifying that the sense of place, which I remembered, was able to emerge in my new work, rather than simply being a painting of a yacht.
When Naomi returned, I left for the gallery. Unbelievably, there were still a few people there enjoying the show. Luke told me the traffic had pretty much been stable since it began. He then told me that Texas Boys, as I decided to name the work, was becoming a larger attraction. I didn’t know quite what to make of it.
I enjoyed conversing with the patrons, a few of whom told me they were from Euphoria. Luckily, they were not people I knew. But I did worry that they could possibly recognize my last name, Denny. After all, it was on the program. If they had, they never brought it up in our conversations.
Eventually Gary arrived. I only noticed when I glanced at the entry foyer and saw him in conversation with Luke. When I wandered over, Luke asked me about the paintings from our weekend. I gathered Gary must have told him, or possibly Naomi called. It didn’t matter; I would probably have shown him anyway. But he wished to visit Naomi’s to set a price for them as each was finished.
“You’re gaining a bit of a reputation, Toph. Naomi’s might find itself even more popular when it becomes known your paintings are shown there. You really need prices on them.”
“If you think so. I guess you’re my agent now, Luke.” I chuckled. It was then that Gary suggested we unwind from the trip at Belsorriso’s. I was never going to argue with that proposal! And so our ‘weekend’ concluded with the lovely strains of violin music, spaghetti aglio e olio, and intense lovemaking.
The next day was more challenging. Deciding to take a break from painting, I came home for a quick sandwich. I checked the mailbox to discover two envelopes had arrived for me. I opened the larger one first. It was the invitation to Clarissa’s wedding, which was to be on Saturday, the twenty-seventh of July. Of course it contained a little RSVP return card. Realizing Gary and I needed to discuss this, I placed it on the entry table and turned my attention to the second. It was a small note card with flowers on the front. When I opened it, a sound got caught in my throat.
Dearest Toph,
I hope you understand that I love you, and always have.
Mother
That little message made me choke on the breath I had been holding. I decided to file it in my back pocket for future review. The thought occurred to me that I had neglected to send her a card on Mother’s Day, which was the twelfth. Perhaps that was behind the note, or perhaps not. Before I left for the gallery, a text arrived from Charles.
“I received my invitation from Clarissa, and suppose you have too.”
“Yes, I opened it just now, actually.”
“Are you going to attend?”
“I might. Gary and I need to talk about it first.”
“You really should. Teddy wants to meet you.”
“Why?”
“He seems intrigued by you.”
“Really?”
“He knew you existed, and that you lived nearby, so he asked me about you.”
“And what did you tell him?”
“Ha! Don’t worry, I made you sound nice! But I did describe you as my most interesting brother. I only recounted your dramatic farewell scene.”
“And now he wants to meet me?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Why did he ask you, and not Clarissa?”
“That isn’t the way Teddy works.”
“???”
“He doesn’t like to spend too much time trying to decipher hidden meanings. He always goes to the best source first – so he told me.”
“I think that makes me want to meet him too. I’m pretty sure we’ll go, but I do need to talk with Gary first.”
“I understand.”
By now I had an enormous amount of anxiety and couldn’t do anything important until Gary came home and we spoke. I spent the rest of the afternoon preparing a canvass in my home studio, choosing the next sketch, arranging brushes, cleaning the kitchen, browning meat, peeling potatoes and carrots and bringing a beef stew together, then setting it to simmer for a few hours. It was all mindless stuff and it did actually calm me down.
Finally Gary arrived and we went to the gym. I figured after the physical workout I could be calm and collected when discussing my family. It began at the tail end of our ride home.
“We received Clarissa’s invitation today.”
“Oh, good. When is the wedding?”
“Saturday, July 27th.”
“Have you thought about it? I mean, earlier you seemed to agree to attend the wedding but not the reception.”
“Well, I think I want us to attend the church service.”
“OK, that’s good. Have you thought about the rest?”
“A lot, actually. Ever since Clarence sent me the apology, some of the sting of being near my family for the reception has been blunted. I was probably going to attend until the mail arrived today.”
At this point we had made it home and were entering the apartment.
“Was there something in the invitation that upset you?”
“No. That isn’t the part of the mail I was talking about.” That’s when I slipped my mother’s note from the back pocket and handed it to him as we sat down. Gary read it.
“I see. What do you make of this?”
“I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Perhaps it is what its face value suggests?”
“I doubt it. My gut instinct says she’s now on my page in her battle plan. The ‘pro’ side of the argument to attend is the fact I’ll have allies with Teddy and Charles present.”
“You’ve talked to Teddy?”
“Not yet. Charles texted, encouraging me to attend. He told me Teddy wanted to meet me. He’s ‘intrigued’ by me.”
Gary laughed. “Yes, from what you told me when we were in Texas, you two might get along quite well. Maybe too well; heaven help the rest of us.”
And so, with Gary looking over my shoulder, I filled out the RSVP, indicating *two* for the reception.
I kissed my boyfriend – it was so pleasant, thinking of him that way – and explained he was my first line of defense. I was still very wary of Mother’s war plan.
The remainder of the week found a creative spirit within me. Between Naomi’s and my home studio, I finished four paintings from the Florida weekend. They were now all displayed at Naomi’s. Luke was true to his word, and price tags were attached. My visits to the gallery also buoyed me as I met people who seemed to like me and my work. In the moments when I reflected on all this, it occurred to me that perhaps this new confidence I was experiencing might provide the missing pieces needed to defend me from whatever my mother had up her sleeve.
Saturday was the twenty-fifth and it had been weeks since I last saw Oscar. I was missing his wisdom.
“Toph! What a pleasant surprise.”
“I’m sorry to barge in like this, but I was in the neighborhood, and it’s been a while.”
“Think nothing at all of it! Come, let’s palaver on the patio. As I recall, you quite enjoy it there.”
Our little talk was nothing substantial. We floated through many topics. I mentioned what Luke had told me about the popularity of the Texas Boys and my misgivings about ever selling them. He quizzed me more on the story I had outlined.
“I’m ashamed to admit, I haven’t gone past the description I told you about. You thought it was too long and since then, with painting, the show and our trip last weekend, I really haven’t had any time to revise it or flesh it out. But the idea I had is still strong within me, and that idea will make it a very long saga.”
“Then that is what you shall write. Why don’t you try to begin filling in that outline, a little at a time. Read your notes of their conversation snippets, and I guarantee you’ll be properly motivated. Pretty soon it will be well on its way to completion. I hope you’ll share the chapters with me as you complete them. I’m really quite interested in what your concept is.”
That’s how we spent the afternoon, talking and sipping on mint juleps, if you can believe that! I only sipped on two, but it was enough to require a nap when I returned home. Joanne made our meal and we decided to stay in that Saturday night.
The final Sunday of May found us on a golf course up in the nearby hills. Gary took us out on their driving range to give me a quick lesson. I had never swung a golf club in my life.
“You’ll pick this up really fast, Toph. It’s just like tennis.”
It was decidedly not just like tennis. But after much frustration and many expletives, I could reliably launch the ball from the tee. However, I could not reliably predict where it would go after launch. The club had a small practice course of only nine holes which they called a par-three course. I’m sure it was designed to prevent players, such as me, from injuring bona fide golfers on the real course which, I must admit, was a beautiful vision, rambling over the hills. Hopefully, some day it’ll be safe for me to play there. Safe, that is, for everyone else. But if Gary’s intent was to take my mind off everything, he was successful. It was another happy day with my boyfriend. God, I love saying that word.
The final week in May would be the final week of my New Glory exhibit. Everything seemed to be progressing well. Betty and Big Joe even visited the gallery one day. That was a very pleasant surprise for me. I stole an hour here and there to write more detail into the Texas Boys’ story outline. I made a few paintings from old sketches I found in my room. There was no pressure at all, and they were rather more therapeutic than required for anything.
Charles texted one day, asking if Clarence had ever contacted me after the first conversation we had, which he hadn’t. He gave me Teddy’s number, explaining I should text him, which I did. The conversation was nothing scintillating, only establishing that he couldn’t wait to meet me and I passed along my request that Gary and I be placed nowhere near my mother’s table.
Again, everything seemed to be rolling along smoothly. This was especially true when I received Dr. Boynton’s email from Abington. He explained that I needn’t bring any of the paintings which were in Luke’s gallery. It appeared all the interviewers had visited the show! He also congratulated me again on the concept and also the quality of my work.
All seemed to be going along so well. I was a little proud that every single painting of the New Glory exhibit had sold. That was beyond any expectation I had at the beginning of the show. I was at the gallery on the final Friday. Luke had just informed me that there were several inquiries about Texas Boys. He was pretty sure it would be sold soon, although he asked to keep it in the gallery until it did. I still had misgivings about losing them.
It must have been about two in the afternoon when I turned around and froze. My body began to shiver. Entering through the front door was the Ice Queen, my mother. Thank God she hadn’t seen me. Toph immediately slipped around a corner and headed for the rear exit. He was out of the gallery, into Toph’s TeAra, and speeding blindly away, all while still trembling.
Without realizing it, or having any memory of the trip, I was at the river. I parked, and then took deep breaths. I tried to think rationally. This was far from her normal behavior. What could she be up to? I began walking on the path which parallels the river. After a long hike, my mind was still roiling. I knew this state was no use to me. I tried the opposite tactic of forgetting about the whole incident. I continued walking, thinking of Gary and me in Texas, then of us in Florida. Happy and pleasant thoughts slowly pushed the others out.
I turned and reversed course, strolling with more calmness now. I began taking note of boats on the water, other walkers and joggers, the beautiful late May afternoon and roses blooming along the shore. I knew it was wise to not return home yet. I really needed to spend the day down here to cure me of the apprehension I felt.
I walked by the Crab Shack and decided to enjoy the view with a bucket of crab. Now that I had something to busy my hands and mind, the time flew by and my attention was diverted to the task before me, when it wasn’t consumed by the view. Being in no hurry, I leisurely cracked shells and ate, thinking of the approaching Abington interview.
After I left the restaurant, I sat on a park bench. I supposed in another era, this would have been the moment to light a cigarette. I began to reflect on the fact that all my New Glory paintings had sold. The money was only one aspect of the satisfaction. The other was the realization that people enjoyed my art enough to buy it. It was such a new feeling for me to experience. It meant I had worth. I had a purpose in life. I wasn’t merely intended to exist day-to-day until my end. I had pride in myself. This might have been the first time I ever had that sensation.
Stubbing out my imaginary butt, I rose and walked to the little platform which overlooked the river. The air was calm, the sky deep blue with only small wisps of clouds about. All this was expressed in the river, reflecting a million twinkling sparkles from the sun now getting lower in the sky. The flickering pattern appeared to be opposing thoughts fighting with each other. The irony was that while clashing, they were each needed to compose the whole. It was a fascinating idea to me. All that rumination was interrupted when two familiar arms encircle me from behind. They were the very arms my boyfriend promised would always belong to me.
“I thought you might be down here. Luke was quite alarmed when you suddenly vanished. I’m afraid he’s gotten several others worried too, by calling around looking for you. When I got home there was quite a bit of concern. I tried to calm them, but left to check this place.”
“Hug me tighter Gary. I’m going to need all your help and strength.”
“Luke told me.”
“Yes, Mother is attacking.”
- 39
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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