Chapter 74

The afternoon thankfully went much better than I could have ever imagined. Halfway through the discussion I became more comfortable, my stomach no longer in knots and palms damp.

Once we ended the discussion of my art at the front of the gallery, Theo thanked everyone for attending and handed his card out to nearly every person in attendance. With the same casual ease Val displayed, my young art broker shook hands with more people than a politician.

After everyone was gone, Theo turned and extended his hand to Val, beaming with sheer delight. "You have saved the day, Valgarde."

Val attempted to appear humble, but I knew he desired the recognition for salvaging what I had nearly turned into a disaster. "Monsieur, Valgarde is an old family name that doesn't fit me. I insist you call me Joshua. It is what everyone in Paris calls me."

"Joshua," Theo said, pumping Val's hand as if he expected water would spurt from my cousin's mouth. "Theo Van Gogh, your cousin's broker. I cannot tell you how thankful I am for your assistance today."

Val smiled warmly. "Of course, Monsieur, anything for my shy cousin."

Both men glanced in my direction and I felt as they both scrutinized me.

"I must say, I had no idea Phelan was uncomfortable speaking in public considering he has to talk in front of his class," Theo said. "I fear I have made a mistake in thrusting him into the unwanted spotlight."

Val shrugged. "Phelan has never been the type who has craved attention. He prefers to blend into the background."

"Yes, I see that now."

"When we were younger, sometimes it was days and my father and I would forget he lived in the house, that is how content he was with no one noticing him," Val said lightly. "No different than the coat rack at times."

"A coat rack?" I questioned, insulted by his words.

"You know I am not serious," Val said dismissively.

His tone grated on my nerves. I had never wanted to be ignored. I was quiet because Val and Alak chose to speak to one another and would not readily engage in conversation with me. When the silence turned from days to weeks, I didn't know what to do to be invited into their lives again, afraid that if I spoke, they would tell me I could eat with them when Erik was back at the table. It was far easier to remain unnoticed than to face the possibility of rejection.

"I have met many very quiet artists," Theo said. "Ones who prefer sitting in front of a canvas to standing in front of a crowd."

"That definitely describes my cousin. Phelan has always been reserved," Val said. "I've grown accustomed to it, I suppose. Once he is comfortable in a situation, however, he is a completely different person."

"Well, I do hope to see you at future shows until my best new artist is more at ease giving talks to discuss his work," Theo said. "I have a sneaking suspicion that for the time being, he would prefer sitting in the back and keeping to himself."

"Probably with his bird," Val added.

"I would have preferred knowing that I would be asked to speak," I said, annoyed with both of them for discussing me as if I were not standing in between them. "If I had been informed, I would have prepared something."

"I mean no offense, Monsieur," Theo replied. "Your art speaks for itself, of course, but sometimes it is nice to hear from the person behind the canvas and paper. I consider today a success and so should you."

"A wonderful experience," Val agreed. "Correct, Phelan?"

"Of course," I said, deciding to conserve my energy as I had no doubt Val would start a petty argument on the way back to his home.

Theo asked me to stop by his office sometime during the week and I agreed.

"Phelan," Stefan said before I walked out with Val, "congratulations on your first show with us. I shall have your check prepared for pick up by Wednesday unless you prefer the post."

"I can come by after class and retrieve my paintings as well."

Stefan merely smiled. "Just the check."

I wasn't sure how long it took to remove the installations, properly package each one for transport, and return to the artists, but I merely nodded and thanked him.

Val and I departed shortly after two with Stefan locking the doors behind us.

"You were exceptional," Val said once the gallery was in the distance.

"None of what transpired this afternoon was my doing," I replied.

"How can you possibly say that?" Val argued.

"You saved the day, didn't you?" I asked.

Val frowned at me. "You are upset with me," he observed.

"I am not upset with you, I was not prepared. That is what is upsetting. I felt ambushed by the entire situation."

"Would you have preferred if I left you stammering in front of twenty-six people? I could have joined them and left you to sort it out on your own."

He was correct, but it made me feel no less foolish for my hesitation.

"Not everyone enjoys being in front of a crowd," Val pointed out when I didn't reply. "It isn't a character flaw and I'm not criticizing you for being uncomfortable. It isn't who you are and that is fine."

"It is not fine and I don't want to discuss it a moment longer," I snapped.

Val huffed. "I thought I was helping you," he said. "I thought I was helping you through a moment that was difficult for you but second-nature to me."

"Val, I said–"

"Phelan, listen to me," Val said, pausing abruptly. He grabbed me roughly by the arm and I swatted his hand away.

"Don't," I warned.

With a sigh, Val lowered his gaze and shook his head. "I am proud of you. It was an unexpected honor to be able to ask about your art and share those answers with twenty-six individuals who were completely engrossed in your answers. Perhaps you didn't notice, but everyone in attendance was delighted to hear you speak and for good reason. You are a gifted artist and despite not being comfortable in front of that many people, you handled yourself well. I may not always show it, but I have always wanted you to succeed, Phelan," he said.

Breath held, I waited for him to continue speaking, to say that he no longer wished me success because I was far too petty and difficult. I was that reserved child to him, the one who preferred keeping to himself rather than being part of a family. Quite frankly he wasn't sure how we could be related and from the same shared household and still very much be strangers. Clearly I was at fault as it couldn't be his doing.

"That is all I wish to say," Val said under his breath.

Again I waited for a snide remark, for some way in which Val would erase the sincerity of his words with something harsh. He looked as though he wished to pat me on the shoulder, but I had been swift to remove his hand from my arm and felt certain he would not do it again.

"Thank you," I said. "That was…"

Unexpected, I wanted to tell him, completely unlike anything that I had grown accustomed to hearing him say to me.

"That was kind of you," I finished. "It isn't that I don't appreciate your skills in addressing a crowd. I just…I just feel as though I have made a fool of myself and you telling Theo I was as remarkable as a coat rack didn't help."

Immediately my hands balled into fists, muscles tense with anticipation of an argument.

Val lowered his gaze. "That was flippant in hindsight," he admitted. "I suppose I didn't consider that it was offensive of me to embarrass you in such a manner. My apologies."

I blinked at him, still awaiting a barbed remark.

It's just that you were so forgettable. You chose to be lonely, we didn't push it upon you. For an eight-year-old, you were moody and had such a temper. What did you expect from us?

I found myself unwilling to allow my guard to slip, certain he would strike hard and point out all the ways I was to blame or had brought misery upon myself.

"That drawing of yours brought back many good memories," Val said as we continued to walk back to his home. "I had forgotten about that cat everyone fed behind the bank. I wonder if it's still there."

"It is not," I said, cautiously unclenching my hands.

"No? That is a pity. It was a very nice cat."

"Monsieur Renarde took it home years ago," I replied.

"It's still alive?" Val asked, sounding quite surprised.

"At least she was six months ago when I ran into Renarde at the bank. He was quite proud to tell me about Gray Cat, who is officially known as Lady Gray Cat, apparently."

"Good, I'm glad she is well. My God, she must be ancient."

"Twenty, I would guess."

"I'll have to tell Elizabeth that Gray Cat is alive and well and apparently titled now."

I nodded, not knowing what else to say to him as the conversation continued without a single moment of Val pointing out something I had did wrong.

"As I was saying," Val said, tugging at his sleeves, "that drawing brought back many memories. Good memories, I should say, when Elizabeth was so young and Carmen in better health."

Before you left your wife at home to entertain other women.

Out of aggravation with the unnecessary thoughts in my head, I touched my left forearm, but not nearly hard enough to cause pain.

"Do you want the drawing?" I asked.

Val's eyes widened as he looked at me. "How much is it? I didn't look at the card."

"I have no idea."

Val furrowed his brow. "You don't know what your own art is selling for?"

"I didn't ask," I said. "Theo has handled that part."

"Well, he's done a fantastic job as it's the only piece of yours I saw without a 'sold' sign attached to it."

"Only two paintings have sold recently and they are both in the hands of the same buyer," I told him. "One is the flame-colored tanager and the other was a drawing at the Goupil & Cie gallery."

Val shook his head. "That isn't correct."

"It is correct."

He scoffed at me. "No, it is not and quite frankly I don't understand your need to argue over something so trivial."

"Stefan didn't mention any other sales."

"Why do you think he said you only had a check to pick up Wednesday?"

"I suppose it's possible Theo will take what is left and display it at his gallery if there is enough interest."

"There is nothing left to sell aside from the drawing," Val said firmly. "And I wouldn't be surprised if there is an offer made before Wednesday."

"Do you want it? I can ask Stefan to hold it for you."

"No, I don't need him to hold it. I will never forget that day," Val replied. "I remember so vividly how Elizabeth dragged that string behind her, so adamant that if she walked around the house, a cat would appear and she could keep it forever."

"While she meowed," I said.

Val grunted. "Yes, while she simultaneously meowed as if summoning a feline to our residence."

"Not even cake would persuade her to abandon her cat-catching attempts," I said.

"Oh, yes, that's right. I nearly forgot it was your birthday that we were celebrating."

"Eliza had herself so worked up over the cat that she kept trying to wipe her face on my shirt. Her hands were covered in mucus and tears and she insisted on sitting with me."

"Even though you attempted to convince her that she wanted to sit with me."

"Yes," I replied. "So that you would be covered in mucus and tears instead of me. It was the least you could have done for my birthday."

Val's lips parted as he stared at me. Unexpectedly, his stern expression cracked into a smile. "Thank God she outgrew those horrid emotional displays where her nose ran and ran."

"She was quite masterful at bursting into tears," I agreed.

"Yes, and somehow you always put forth the effort to settle her down," Val replied. He smiled to himself. "That toy cat has always been her favorite. I had forgotten its origin, but I will undoubtedly think of that drawing every time I see it on her pillow."

"Good, I am glad."

"I also have something to tell you."

I couldn't tell by his tone if it was good or bad, but automatically assumed it was not something I wanted to hear based solely on the typical trajectory of our conversation.

"I would like you to come to Sterois Wednesday evening,"he said, swiftly adding, "but you needn't stay long as I know you are in bed early."

I nodded. "I will try to be there."

"You should bring the seamstress. Abigail, correct?"

"I–"

"You do fancy her, don't you? At least it seemed like you did. I suppose that is difficult for me to tell considering…well, considering I've never seen you with someone, I suppose."

As much as I desired to take offense to his words, Val had never seen me with anyone. The only person I had been with for more than a night here or there was Florine and I'd never mentioned her to Val.

"I will ask," I said.

"Good," he said. "She seems like a very level-headed woman, someone who would be good for you."

My breath hitched. She was good for me. And she was no longer in the country. The thought of never seeing her again, of losing the friendship we had cultivated, left me feeling bewildered.

Val was quiet for a long moment. "Wednesday will be my last evening entertaining the crowd for the foreseeable future."

Immediately I turned my full attention to my cousin. "You've been playing there two times a week for years," I said.

"I have, yes," he said.

"Did something happen?" I asked.

Val took a long time to reply, preferring to take a breath and purse his lips. "Yes," he said at last. "I started an affair with a woman and left my wife and our daughter at home alone five nights a week."

I said nothing in return, unaware that Val spent five nights away from his family. His admission left me both angry and disappointed that he dedicated his time to another woman and spared very little for Carmen and Elizabeth.

"For years I have spent two nights a week performing with this beautiful woman, then two nights we spent perfecting our act. Originally we met at a cafe, but in recent years we moved to a hotel in secret and after we went over what we intended to perform, we were performing intimately."

"And the fifth night?" I asked.

"No music involved," he replied.

"Are you ending your time at Sterois to pursue this woman?" I asked. "Moving into her home? Or would you put Carmen into the wardrobe so you could sleep with your mistress in your own bed at last? Perhaps you can tell Carmen that was my idea so that she can stop speaking to me for the remainder of her life."

There it was, the moment in which the pleasantness of our time together inevitably ended in both of us angry at one another. I didn't care; his actions were unforgivable.

Val bowed his head. "I suppose I deserve that," he said. "I have not been a faithful husband to Carmen or the doting father Elizabeth deserves. I should not have told Carmen that you and I were out together when that was not the truth and I owe you an apology."

"You are damned right," I snapped. "Quite frankly, I will never understand what the hell you were thinking. I suppose I can conclude that you were not thinking at all."

Speaking to him with the sternness Val had always directed at me brought no satisfaction. I had fully expected to take pleasure in lashing out, in lecturing him the way he had always done to me.

The look on his face indicated that he had already berated himself enough, and I wondered how he had been able to ignore the way I avoided his gaze and stared blankly, hurting so deeply that I couldn't tolerate a moment of his disappointment.

"Val–"

"Phelan, I am leaving Sterois until further notice to dedicate my time to Carmen and Elizabeth," he said at last.

That was not the answer I had expected from him. I blatantly stared with my lips parted.

"I took six months off years ago, when Carmen was first ill. Everyone at Sterois thought it was quite commendable of me to temporarily give up my nights at the tavern to take care of my family. I felt like a hero," he said. "Her knight in shining armor, if you will."

"What happened?" I asked. "Why did you return to the tavern?"

I was surprised when Val actually looked me in the eye, "Because my wife was still sick and she was not going to get any better."

For the life of me I could not make sense of his words.

Val ran his hand over his hair. "Being the hero was wonderful at first. I felt immense satisfaction taking more responsibility for Elizabeth and tending to Carmen, but after a while, I was resentful of her condition and the constant attention Elizabeth needed."

I shot Val a look and he frowned at me.

"I realize how callous that sounds," he admitted. "However, I am being honest, Phelan. I resented Carmen and Elizabeth and even you with your freedom to come and go as you please. I felt trapped in a marriage that had turned me into a nanny and nurse."

I would have given anything for the stability of a relationship that meant I had a family to come home to each and every day. Many days I sat in Val and Carmen's home with Elizabeth on my lap and could not imagine a more satisfying life. There were evenings when it was difficult to leave as Elizabeth would clasp my hand and beg me to stay with her as if I could fold myself in half and crawl into her little bed to serve as a pillow.

"I truly don't understand how you could feel that way," I said.

"Because you have not lived it, Phelan. You have not witnessed someone you once loved disintegrate into a shell of what she had once been.

"We were supposed to have a larger family, sons to carry the family name, daughters to see married and give us grandchildren. We were to purchase a home outside of Paris and leave the little house down the street. Carmen and I dreamed of a summer home to spend a month away as a family."

He paused, his gaze distant as he shook his head. "None of that happened. None of that ever happened and it never will. It is a difficult and bitter reality, one that I wanted to believe was little more than a nightmare I could wake from eventually. Yet here I am, at the age of thirty-eight with my daughter now sixteen and my wife who will not see the age of forty. We should be in our prime. We should be happy. Our lives are instead wasted. Can you blame me for being bitter?"

"I don't blame you for being bitter. I blame you for using your bitterness as an excuse to have an affair."

"I know you do," Val said, "and after a bit of reflection, I blame myself as well."

'Good' didn't seem like the appropriate response.

"I hope you are able to be the man Carmen deserves," I said. "The groom who swept his bride off of her feet when you were much younger."

Val's frown deepened.

"And far more handsome," I added in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Far more handsome indeed. In all seriousness, I will be at her side as often as I can until…until the end, I suppose."

As far as I was concerned, Carmen was too young to succumb to her illness. I had always imagined Val and Carmen as my cousin described: the two of them as parents to at least three children, as they had discussed prior to marriage.

"I cannot stay long today, but I would like to see Carmen if she is up for a visit."

Val nodded. "I think she would like that." He paused and patted his trouser pocket. "If you would not mind returning without me, I think I shall first stop at the florist and bring my wife fresh flowers."

Author Notes:

Something that I read a couple weeks back said that statistically men whose wives/partners are battling any sort of long term illness, such as cancer, typically take on a "hero role" for approximately six months before they divorce or abandon their wife (or the whole family). The statics are extremely high that men have affairs or leave because they can't cope with the responsibility and stress of caring for a sick spouse/partner.

Found it interested and sad, and very fitting for this chapter.