Chapter 580: The Knight Gallery

Thursday, March 2nd, Evening

She dressed in the most formal thing she brought. It wasn't the most formal thing she owned, but it had to do. She looked in the mirror and adjusted her blonde hair. Once satisfied with how she looked, she walked out into the central part of the suite. Looking at her husband, she smiled.

Kat knew Arne tried; he wasn't a suit guy, but the gallery show was important to her, so he tried. By looking at him, Kat knew Arne was uncomfortable, but he would say anything. Kat walked over to Arne and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thanks for this," Kat said.

"You're welcome; our Uber should be here soon," Arne said.

"So, let's meet him," Kat said.

The ride into Manhattan was quiet. Arne looked at his phone, still dealing with band business. Kat took in the city's lights in childish wonder; she felt it was magic.

Once they got to the Knight Gallery of American Art, they were met by a tall man at the door.

"Hello, Ms. Hartmann, Mister Jared, please come in; I'm Grant Coyle; I'm the director of the Grasland exhibit," he said.

"Thank you," Arne said and shook Grant's hand.

"Thanks for the showing," Kat said.

Kat and Arne followed Grant into the gallery. Kat noticed Fallon was there dressed in probably the tiniest little black dress Kat had ever seen. It wasn't obscene at all; that's how small Fallon was in height and build. Of all the people Kat knew, Fallon was physically the smallest and was underestimated for it.

"Hello, Kat, Arne," Fallon said.

"Fallon, thanks so much for arranging this," Kat said, walked over, hugged Fallon, and did the kiss the cheek thing. Arne noticed Fallon was making eyes at Grant.

Kat and Fallon separated. Kat looked at Grant. "These are all Alex Grasland's paintings?" Kat asked.

"Yes, everyone she chose to display with us," Grant said.

"Thank you," kat said and picked a painting and started to take them in.

"You're not taking the art in?" Grant asked Arne.

"This is more Kat's thing," Arne said.

"Are you sure?" Grant asked.

"Yeah, I am," Arne said.

Fallon grabbed another flute of champagne, went over to Kat, and offered it to her. "Here you go; it adds to the experience," Fallon said.

"Thanks," Kat said and took the flute, "I've never seen you in this environment; you're in your element."

Fallon snorted and sipped her champagne. "Believe me, I'd rather be home, doing the simple things," she said.

"Like what?" Kat asked.

"I miss bad demo day at RBR," Fallon said.

"I heard those rumors; were they true?" Kat asked.

"Yeah, it was Peyton's way of getting a second or third opinion," Fallon said.

Kat sipped her drink and looked at a painting. It was a winter scene with a train on a viaduct over a lake that reflected the full moonlight. Kat took it all in and tilted her head, and thoughts of her Opa filled her head.

A railroad across waters, the scent of grandfatherly love

Blue bayous, Decembers, moon through a dragonfly's wings

The images echoed in her head as she studied the painting. It mingled with her thoughts and created verbal pictures in her mind.

"Kat, are you okay?" Fallon asked.

Kat nodded, "Yeah, just taken by the beauty of this painting," she said.

"Alex does great work," Fallon said.

Kat nodded, "Yes, she does," she said, sipped her champagne, and moved to the next painting. This one was again a winter scene, this time of the Alice in Wonderland Sculpture in Central Park. The painting showed Alice, Dianah, the Hatter, and March Hare. The funny thing is it's March now. Kat nodded and thought of the Lewis Carroll novel. Alice in Wonderland wasn't her favorite, but this painting resounded in her. How life lost its luster; when she was fourteen, the world was full of wonder, awe, and potential. Did she lose it all and become jaded? Maybe as she got older, it was pushed away for the practical matter. Maybe Brian stole her innocence.

Where is the wonder? Where's the awe

Where's dear Alice knocking on the door

Where's the trapdoor that takes me there

Where the real is shattered by a Mad March Hare

"I heard you like my work," a female voice said; Kat was shaken from her thoughts and turned to the voice accented slightly. Kat studied this tall woman, close to the size of some of the Scott women, she also wore a little black cocktail dress that showed plenty of cleavage, and to draw attention to it, she wore a long gold chain that rested between her breasts. The woman had long blonde hair in a ponytail that rested on her shoulder. Kat nodded.

"Yes, I do," Kat said.

"Alex Grasland," the woman said, and how she pronounced Grasland set the alarm off in her head.

"Kat Hartmann," Kat said.

"I see you like Alice in Winter," Alex said.

"It was making me think," Kat said.

Alex started discussing the painting. Kat smiled and nodded. All of Kat's responses were measured.

"Was hat Sie dazu bewogen, diese Skulptur zu malen?" Kat asked.

"Es hat eine Qualität der Unschuld, die mich ansprach," Alex said.

"I see," Kat said.

"Did you ask me something, Kat?" Alex asked.

Kat shook her head, "No," she said, "I was taking in what you were telling me."

"Okay," Alex said.

"Arne, dear," Kat said.

"Yes?" Arne asked.

"Come and share this painting with me," Kat said.

"Okay," Arne said and joined Kat in front of the painting. The married couple wrapped their arms around each other. Fallon took place next to Grant and watched them.

Kat took in the painting and Arne's presence. She sighed; he was there with her as they looked at the painting. The feelings and images melded in Kat's head.

Come and share this painting with me

Unveiling of me, the magician that never failed

This deep sigh coiled around my chest

Intoxicated by a major chord