The Exhibition Part I
The following day turned out to be much better weatherwise, so Beats was able to take the twins to the park. That started with a slow amble through the streets of the neighbourhood, and ended in a small green space that was busy with other men and women of Beats' age, accompanied by their kids. As he watched over the twins, he realised that he was being regarded with a look bordering on suspicion by one woman. Her children seemed to know the twins and vice versa, so he made his way over and introduced himself, which seemed to mollify her attitude a little.
"I did actually meet your husband here at the start of the week. I do think that it is so brave of their fathers to leave the twins alone with virtual strangers at such a young age, a time so crucial for their development. The anxiety and distress that this might cause them in later life is a risk that they rather seem to have accepted on their poor children's behalf…" she said immediately after he had greeted her.
Beats just smiled, wishing that he had an inner demon, like Santana's legendary Snix, that he could bring out when he needed to deal with such people that said such utter tosh, and really needed to learn to keep their ill-judged opinions to themselves. "It was a tough decision, but only a temporary one; the twins will be leaving Williamsburg next week. My husband and I were only taking care of our niece and nephew whilst all the documents could be arranged. I feel that their lives will be greatly enriched by learning of a different way of life, a different culture and of course, a different language at such an impressionable stage in their development."
Beats found himself smiling at the look on the woman's face, and he realised that maybe he did have an inner demon after all. Strictly, he had not actually told a lie. The twins would be leaving Williamsburg next weekend, their had been papers for Scott's parents to sign as temporary guardians, and well, New Jersey was a completely different world when compared to the hip suburbs of Brooklyn. The more 'normal' life that they would enjoy on the other side of the Hudson would do them no harm at all. If she chose to think that he meant the two youngsters were flying off to Japan to join their parents, then that was her own fault…
Beats would relate the whole tale to his husband when he arrived back at the apartment that evening, and Elliott had burst out laughing.
"Let me hazard a description of the lady in question; bob cut hair, dyed orange, large gold earrings with an Aztec design, and dressed very much in the style of a flapper from the 1920s, like a character in The Great Gatsby? If so, then she gave me the third degree the first day that I took the twins to the park as well. She took photos, because I think she was on the point of calling the NYPD to say that I had kidnapped the twins. I mean, if I was a mad kidnapper, would I stop off at the local park after doing so? I mentioned the encounter to Josh, and he sighed, as he knows her only too well. She is one of those women that still think they are the head cheerleader, all because she married the quarterback, who now has a bank job on Wall Street. The poor man; I bet his Sunday was ruined as she badgered him as to why he doesn't have a job that can get him a secondment to some exotic or trendy foreign location…"
"I feel sorry for him," admitted Beats. "She probably nags him all the time, and I have just heightened that for him." They ate, then with a deep sigh, Beats made his move to leave, with Ty at his side.
"It is going to be a long week," groaned Elliott as they stood at the door. "I shall be monitoring the flight arrivals at JFK next Sunday, and if their flight is more than five minutes late, I shall be lodging a severe complaint with the airline…"
"You and me both," interjected Beats.
Elliott chuckled, then said, "However, on average, the flight in question is usually early in arriving, and better yet, as they are coming from Dublin, they will have been through passport control there, so they will not be held up by queues at the immigration desks. It will be straight to baggage reclaim and into a cab." Then he took his husband and foster son into his arms and hugged them both. It would have to suffice until their little family was properly reunited in a week's time…
Beats felt lonelier by the minute as the train rattled him and Ty back west, into Manhattan. By the time that he was walking along that familiar street in the West Village, he felt like crying. His mood was lightened however when he entered his home, and was greeted by the scent of cinnamon, a sure sign that Dante was at home and was busy in the kitchen. He had learnt how to bake at school; it was an optional course he had chosen to take as it earned him what he needed to reach graduation, and was a better life option than the other short courses on offer.
He had barely passed, but he had excelled in cinnamon buns, and he was known to prepare a batch from time to time when he felt they all needed a treat. He had obviously realised that Beats would be feeling down, and a sweet treat might assist with that in some tiny way. Dante had just finished drizzling the icing on them when he heard the front door open, and he began to assemble all that would be needed to make hot chocolate as he waited for the other two members of his family to arrive in the kitchen. The moment they did, he greeted them with hugs, instantly reciprocated.
Ty decided to head to his room and unpack whilst his adopted brother made the drinks. "How was he?" Dante asked quietly once he had left.
"Missing us all, but very impressed with Lachlan. I did wonder if you would have popped into the Spotlight to see him whilst he was working this weekend…" said Beats.
"I did think about it, but I knew that he would be busy, and well, it would have seemed funny to me. I can wait until he is back home with us again, and then we can all catch up as a family," he replied. Then he turned his attention back to his task, as Beats silently echoed what his adopted son was feeling…
The next week would pass quickly in the West Village. Of course, Jeff was verging on the hyperactive at times as he got everything ready for his exhibition, dealing with all of the last minute dramas that came with every such undertaking. His former tutor was not much better, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect for her gallery's big moment, when it would be thrust into the spotlight. The news media had by now been told that royalty and the party from Washington were to be attending, and the New York Times had written an extensive feature for their arts section, and Jeff had been happy to sit through the interview for that, as the newspaper had decided not to send their usual reporter to do it; they had contacted Roderick and asked him to carry it out, hoping for some insight that the artist might give a friend…
Nick had been only too well aware of that when Jeff mentioned it, and had stopped Roderick on his way out of the house afterwards. He insisted that before the young man submitted his piece, he sent it to him first for a proof read. If Roderick was upset by the lack of trust that such a statement showed, he did not say anything, understanding exactly where Nick was coming from. The piece was of course full of only relevant issues, and nothing personal, and Nick felt a little guilty that he had not trusted Roderick from the off. As for the other journalists, Jeff was drained by their questioning, and regretted agreeing to be interviewed by them at all…
In midweek, the confirmation that the Duke of Cambridge would be accompanying his wife came, and that did raise the stakes a little. As Jeff started to panic a little more, his husband did his utmost to keep him calm, whilst also co-ordinating the travel arrangements of their closest friends. Most of them would only be coming to the city for the day, and he found himself dealing with the task of checking their arrival times at the various airports so that he could arrange shared transport to save them all money. Afterwards was a lot easier, as he only needed numbers travelling to each of the airports to see what size of vehicle was required.
By the time the weekend came, Nick found that despite his best endeavours, his husband was on the verge of a breakdown. Meanwhile, two doors down, there was an air of joyous anticipation. The moment that he had woken up that morning, Beats had checked the website of a certain airline, and smiled as he saw that the flight that was bringing Scott's parents back from Dublin had left slightly ahead of schedule, and that it was expected to arrive back at JFK a good thirty minutes prior to its expected time, and that was something he would not complain about at all.
He made breakfast that morning with a song in his heart, and the fact that he was singing to himself amused Dante greatly as he ate his own breakfast, before he headed into work at the book shop. Ty found it funny too, his bag all packed for his night away as Lachlan and Dante's first guest in their own place. The two adoptive brothers secretly wondered if the atmosphere was the same over in Williamsburg, as Elliott also prepared himself to come back home….
Naturally it was, although more muted as the sounds of Peppa Pig dominated the house again. Elliott had not just packed his own bag up, but over the course of the previous two days he had been packing for the twins as well. They would be leaving to go to New Jersey for the rest of the time their fathers were absent the following day, and he did not want Scott's mom to be dealing with it when she would be jetlagged from the flight home.
He also had a new story to tell Beats. He had been lucky enough to encounter the lady with the orange hair twice in the park during the week. He had hoped he would, and on the second encounter he had actually sat and talked to the twins in Japanese. He had learnt some simple questions from an online language course, and he had taught the twins the correct reply, which they had happily parroted back to him when he said those questions, albeit with the promise of ice cream if they got it right. Knowing that it would be months before she saw the twins again, he had made a point of waving to her as they left the park that second day to get the ice creams. Then he discovered that the twins did not like the lady in question either; she apparently said bad things about their fathers behind their backs. Elliott nodded, and was glad he had executed his plan…
He would spend the entire morning surreptitiously checking his phone, and eventually he saw what he was looking fro. If he grinned at the words 'arrived 36 minutes early' then it was only for the briefest of moments. The text from Scott's mom to say that they were in a taxi and en route to the apartment was also welcome. She went on to say that she would be coming up alone, as her husband would be continuing on in the cab to their home in New Jersey with the bulk of their luggage. She would bring up an overnight bag, and would be joined by her husband later, after he drove back from New Jersey in their car.
That began the countdown for Elliott. He told the twins that she would be arriving very soon, and that he would be leaving, and that way the bulk of the tears were over by the time that the entry buzzer sounded to signal that she was downstairs. He opened the door so that she could come straight in, and went back to keep the twins at bay, realising that is was better they greeted grandma in the lounge than in the hallway. He let the children greet her, and went to make coffee, something that she welcomed, and they sat down for a brief conversation about the twins, and of course, the holiday that she and her husband had just enjoyed.
Then without warning, she said, "Right, I am sure that you have somewhere else that you would much rather be than sat her chatting to me. The twins will be needing their nap, so let's get you away, back to your husband."
"If you are certain that there is nothing else that I can do, then I will not say no," answered Elliott, which made the lady in question laugh.
There were final goodbyes to the twins then, and more tears, although those quickly ended when they remembered that his going meant that they would be going off for a holiday at grandma's house the next day. Then he was in the elevator, and yes, his footsteps back to the subway might have been a little swifter than his normal pace. The train was then much too slow, despite the fact that it was moving at speed and not delayed. His steps in the West Village streets back towards home were almost a sprint, the rain that was now falling not bothering him in the least. He did not quite run up the stairs once he was through the front door - he was getting too old for such things now - but the warm embrace he was pulled into at the top of the stairs was the best prize of all, all of the reward he ever needed…
Dante and Ty were both present at the time, and watched with smiles as their fathers embraced at the top of the stairs, the joy the older men felt obvious to them both. In the end it fell to the former to be the one to clear his throat loudly and say, "Can we get a turn to welcome Elliott home, or should we just sneak out now and leave you two to get a room?"
Beats immediately felt his cheeks burning red at those words, but his husband just laughed. "I will admit that we got a little carried away there, but just wait until there comes a day when you and Lachlan have to spend time apart, and I am sure your reunion will be much the same. Now, come here and give me a hug, the pair of you!"
There would be time for a drink together before Dante announced that he and Ty should head out, unable to resist a cheeky quip about being careful as he walked out, but he was unsure that his fathers even heard him, as they were already back in each others arms. As they headed out the street door, they bumped into Drew, who was just heading in, and he smiled at them both.
"I take it that Elliott is back then?" he asked.
"Yeah, so it will be a case of do not disturb tonight for the two of them; they have already begun to start on making up for lost time up there!" replied Dante.
Drew laughed at that, but he doubted that it would be quite the love in that the young man was picturing. He was right of course, and the couple upstairs were content to spend the evening snuggled up together on the sofa, watching a box set together. Just being close again was more than enough for them. Yes, they would have an earlier night than usual, but that was just so they could lie there in each other's arms, finding that sleep came much easier when they were sharing a bed as a married couple was supposed to…
With Elliott back, all of the street was now waiting with bated breath for Monday afternoon, when they would assemble at the gallery in Chelsea that was playing house to their resident artist's second major show. There had been many difficult decisions made as to what they would wear to the event, as the normal sort of smart casual clothes they might have chosen for a gathering of the friends did not quite seem to cut it for one at which royalty was to be present.
The first of the out of town guests that would arrive on the Sunday was Elspeth, who had decided to come early as she did not want to risk being delayed by the train from Vermont on the day itself. She had been invited to stay with Nick and Jeff, and it would be the former that greeted her on her arrival, as her son was out at the gallery, making another round of last minute checks. She would be their only guest that night, as the Sterlings would not arrive until Monday morning; they would then be staying on the Monday night, all of which meant that Mrs Duval would be staying with Grace and Cooper instead.
Nick and Wes would welcome Elspeth warmly, with hugs and afternoon tea. As they sat down to enjoy all that Nick had baked for the English style repast, Elspeth said, "It is such a great honour for me to have been invited here for this moment. To see my son not only making his second foray into the art world, but to be feted by royalty as well…"
"And we must not forget that the First Lady and the Vice President will be in attendance too," added Nick, to which statement his mother-in-law nodded.
"I am so proud of all that he has achieved in what is really a very short period of time. I guess that we must thank his loyalty to Mr Montgomery for providing the inspiration for that first work that thrust him onto the international stage. My only regret is that I never had the opportunity to properly meet the young man in question before his passing, to thank him for all that he did for you both."
"I think that Wes would have loved to have met you. He always had a desire to see Jeff reunited with his natural parents…" replied Nick, although he doubted how true that statement was in the case of his husband's birth father…
Jeff would arrive home before tea was quite finished, and he greeted Elspeth with affection and warmth. The bond between the two of them seemed to have strengthened as of late, and the blond could tell that his son loved her as a grandmother every bit as much as he loved his other grandparents.
Nick insisted that they all have an early night, given the busy day that they would have tomorrow, but in the end, Jeff found himself unable to sleep, his mind too awhirl to pause. He carefully climbed out of bed, anxious not to wake Nick, and crept back down to the kitchen to get himself a cookie or twelve. He took a seat in the old armchair by the radiator in the kitchen, the cookie tin set on the arm of the seat.
He was munching away when he heard a small sound, and looking down, he saw Caleb looking up at him. He was able to interpret that the look was not one for food, but for assistance up onto Jeff's lap. The blond smiled, and picked up his cat gently, and set him down on his lap, where Caleb was soon curled up and purring in contentment. Jeff stroked him gently, feeling calm and relaxed for the first time that day…
That was how Jeff came to nod off in the chair, and that was where Nick found him the following morning. The brunet smiled at his husband, and retrieved the cookie tin, before starting to make breakfast for them all as quietly as possible, but not before he took a picture of his sleeping husband, and then a few more, just to have a record of something so cute and sweet looking. Looking at them, Nick wondered if they would actually make a good choice for his husband to draw an unusual self-portrait; not many of the world's artist had ever produced an image of themselves sound asleep. He knew, however, that such things were a topic for another day…
In the end, Jeff would stir only when Caleb did, the cat doing so as he had heard and indeed smelt Nick in the room, and then had heard the sound of the fridge door being opened, and that to him meant food. Nick saw that his husband was waking, and let the process happen gently. Jeff blinked slowly, then realised where he was, what had happened, and the time.
Nick smiled at him, and spoke. "You couldn't sleep the night before your first solo exhibition either. Your nerves were jangling as you wondered how the public would react to your art; the stuff that wasn't as famous as The Judging Angel. Funnily enough, it was having Caleb curled up in your lap that finally let you fall asleep that night too, although on that occasion he came into our bedroom, and he curled up on you as you sat up in the bed. I should have remembered that, and brought him up when he went to bed last night…"
Jeff nodded, recalling the same thing now, giving the cat a few gentle strokes before he picked him up and set him down on the floor. "I don't think that he would have liked being up there though, Nicky. He's getting older, and our bed would not have compared to the familiar place he knows down here. That he actually stayed on my lap for as long as he did is a miracle really…" He paused, then with a worried expression, continued, "My nerves are all jangling again. What if people don't like all of my new stuff? What if the whole thing is one unmitigated disaster? I would hate for the Duke and Duchesses to think they had wasted their time in coming here…"
Nick smiled, and went over to place an arm around his husband's shoulder. "I think that you are worrying over nothing. If it was all bad and unshowable, then wouldn't Ms Dorward, as a trained art tutor, have seen that and not allowed you to continue with the show?"
"I guess so, but what if someone that we have invited ends up causing a scene at the party, and upsets the dignitaries?"
"Jeffie, none of our friends would do that to you - well, not intentionally. I mean, you did tell the Duchess about the kind of strange stuff that Brittany can come out with for a start, didn't you?"
"More than once, and I have asked Sebastian to keep a watch on Santana, given that she has a tendency to speak before thinking at times…"
"There you are; it is all going to be fine. Now, breakfast, and you will be eating all of it, no matter how unlike eating you feel. I mean, you fainting from hunger would certainly put a kybosh on the party…"
Nick took charge of the entire household then, and continued to do so for the rest of the morning. For a start, he refused to allow his husband to leave the house and go and check if everything was alright at the gallery. "When you came home last night, you told me and Elspeth that it was perfect. If it was perfect, then there is no point in going because you will decide that you want to move it all again, and upset everyone in the place in the process. You will sit there, where I can see you, and you will not move."
Elspeth would assist Nick in his task without having to be asked, and at her suggestion, they kept him in his night clothes and robe, so he could not be tempted to distract them and make a run for it. Drew took Wes to school, and a grumbling Jeff was left to sit in the kitchen, being scrutinised, grumbling to Caleb about being a prisoner….
The Sterlings arrived at the house at 11.30am, but if Jeff thought he could appeal to them for help, and use their arrival to leave, he was sadly mistaken. They kept to the plan, until it was time for an early lunch. He was ushered to the table and a bowl of homemade soup with fresh bread was placed in front of him. He ate it, because it was his favourite soup, and it smelt delicious, and well, he was hungry. His repast finished, he was sent upstairs by Nick to shower and change into his new clothes. He stared at his husband for a moment, then with a sigh he thrust his chair back from the table and stomped off upstairs, muttering about the absence of dessert…
Judy Sterling sighed, but she still smiled, and said, "That reminds me of the teenage boy that I raised… He might be older, and famous, but the attitude is still exactly the same…"
Across from her, Elspeth could only nod, whilst recalling that Hunter had been exactly the same in his early teens. It seemed that the petulance that she had just witnessed was an inheritance that came from the Clarington side of the family, but that was something she would never tell her eldest boy…
When Jeff returned, still sulking, he was mollified by two things; the compliments on his outfit, and the plate of his favourite cookies that Nick had baked the day before and now handed to him. Fortified by the sugar rush, it was now time for them all to make their way over to Chelsea. They would not travel together though. Nick and the Sterlings would head to the gallery via little Wes' school, to collect him early; they would no doubt bump into Drew there, as he had permission to collect Evie at the same time. It fell to Elspeth to be the one to accompany her son straight to the exhibition, and they made the trip in a yellow cab at her insistence. No words were spoken as they made the short trip, but instinctively she reached out to take his hand, and he smiled at that, welcoming the human contact as his nerves jangled…
As Jeff entered the gallery, he was greeted by Ms Dorward, who complimented his outfit, and he in turn complimented her on both her attire and her hair, which did look wonderful after a full salon treatment. He introduced her to Elspeth, and then, with his mother distracted, he made a quick walk round of the display. He quickly concluded that it was all still perfect, but when he had woken up this morning, he had been quite convinced that it was all wrong. Happier, he took a breath, because now he did have one task to carry out; he had to make a confession to his mother…
He returned to the two ladies, and then making an excuse, he lead Elspeth away to a quiet corner of the gallery, where a doorway lead into a small ante room. He took her hand, and said, "Mother, I have to tell you something now, and you might not like it. When I was setting up the exhibition at first, I was struggling to find something that was appropriate for this space. I thought long and hard, and about the themes of my show, and well, eventually I recalled something that made what I have decided to do appropriate. I made a few calls, and well, I plotted with Aunt Moira…"
Elspeth looked confused, as she wondered what he could possibly have been conspiring over that involved her sister.
"I will just come right out with it. This room is not showing my work; this room contains the first solo exhibit of an artist called Elspeth Robertson…"
There was silence then in their corner, the only sound the conversation taking place in the back room, where Ms Dorward was running through all of the protocols again with the rest of the staff. Jeff began to wonder if he had made a mistake with his plan as Elspeth took a step forward into the small room without glancing at him or saying one single word. The fact he could not see her face did not even allow him to guess how she was feeling from her facial expression. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, until he heard the voice of the man known as The Judging Angel to the rest of the world whisper in his ear…
"You need to follow her in, blondie. It isn't as bad as you fear…"
Jeff swallowed, then took a hesitant step into the room that his mother had entered. He found her staring at the artwork he had had framed and put on display, pieces she had done in her days at college, and the few things that she had done since then, watercolours and sketches, all now labelled and shown for the first time. However, her attention was now focused on the sign that had been placed on the wall as you entered the room. Her son had thought long and hard about what it should say, but he had not been able to get the words right from his viewpoint. He had been on the point of contacting that masterful wordsmith Trent, when Wes had stepped in, and provided him with something that was just as fine.
'Elspeth Robertson is a name that you will not know, but she is special to me. She is my birth mother, the woman from whom my artistic talents flow. Unable to pursue her own career in the arts as she should have done, her light has been hidden from the world until now. In her work I recognise touches of the style for which I am now famed, and thus I want to share her talent with the world, as it deserves to be.'
Below those words was an image, a photo that Nick had taken without knowing what purpose it would be used for, on his mother-in-law's last visit to New York, showing mother and son side by side, smiling at each other…
"I don't know what to say," Elspeth said quietly. "My work is nowhere near your level and I feel that it should not be here, taking attention away from yours."
"Oh, but it isn't, trust me," replied Jeff in a hushed tone. "We actually allowed a couple of art critics in here on Saturday, but the signage talking about you wasn't in place. They looked at everything, and when asked for their opinion on what was in here, they both agreed that it was just another sign that I was one of the greatest artists of my generation, each and every item a worthy addition to my catalogue. Then we told them the truth… If you feel up to it, the art critic from The New York Times would like to interview you as he did me, as he wants to tell everyone about the talented mother and son sharing space in a gallery…"
Elspeth stared at Jeff for a moment, then said, "They want to… they really like my work that much?"
"When I told them that I didn't think any of it would be up for sale, the same critic said that was indeed a pity, because there was one of your watercolours that he would love to possess; the one of the lake near your place in Vermont in the Fall. Then he laughed, and said that even if it was for sale, he would most likely be outbid in the subsequent auction anyways…"
"If there was to be a good offer for the majority of these pieces, then I think I could be persuaded to sell, especially that picture of the lake," chuckled Elspeth.
"Of course, there is another thing about this; other than Ms Dorward, the gallery staff and the two critics, no-one knows about all of this, not even Nicky. In fact, when I asked Aunt Moira for all of this stuff, she thought I was having it all framed for you as a gift, not to be displayed in a show in Chelsea…"
Elspeth laughed at that, and then she stopped. "Wait, I have just realised… my work is going to be shown to royalty. I have literally gone from never being seen to on view to royalty overnight!"
"Not to mention the presidential party, a fair few celebrity faces, and of course, Isabelle Wright…"
"You mean it might end up being featured in Vogue?" Elspeth gasped. Jeff decided it was best just to nod…