Arm Candy (24 page)

“So, have you spoken with Cole?” Otto asked, piercing his thick regret.

“We e-mail every day but it’s not the same. I miss him.”

“Me, too. I miss us all,” Otto admitted. “You know, Eden, Mary is nothing to me.”

“Otto. It’s too late. I’m not coming back. To your bed or to your canvases. It’s over. Too much has gone down. I’m a different person now.”

“Really? In a mere few months you are a
different person
,” he sneered, his nostalgia switching on a dime back into anger. “Wait till Cole meets Chase. He’ll be just as disgusted as I am.”

“Please don’t say anything to Cole about Chase, okay?” Eden asked, feeling vulnerable. “I don’t want you to poison him by stoking the fire.”

“You don’t think he would understand. Hmmm. Now that’s interesting. If you are trying to hide this relationship from your own son, don’t you think perhaps you should examine it a bit more and whether it’s even worth it to see this boy?”

Otto touched a nerve, reminding her of Callie and Sara, and she shuddered.

“He’s not a boy. And I’m not hiding it. Cole knows all about Chase. And you’re in no position to talk. Hello, you’ve been banging barely legals and you don’t ever get shit for it,” she fumed at the double standard.

“Because, unlike you, my dear, I am discreet.”

“So, what, I’m supposed to dart in the shadows and hide whom I’m seeing?” she asked, starting to see the clear difference in Otto sleeping with a younger girl versus her sleeping with a younger guy.

“You are part of this studio. Whether you like it or not. This studio is a family, a business, a house,” he said, reddening.

“Otto, I don’t think you understand: I’m not part of the studio anymore.”

“You always will be. The oeuvre is out there! You are part of the body of work and synonymous with me. He’s beneath you, against everything we’ve stood for, with these lowlifes with their compounds in Maine and crests on their silverware. It pulls the studio down, too. I mean, this is everything we have always loathed!”

“Speak for yourself. I don’t have nearly as much class anxiety as you! And by the way, don’t pretend to not be elite with your town house and trips around the world. Why are you no different?”

“Because I create things. These robots move money around. They live high on the hog while people’s pensions swirl down the shitter!”

“You’re so high and mighty. Did you ever stop to think what one of your million-dollar canvases could do for a village in Africa? Huh? I mean, seriously, it’s a few damn dabs of paint, and you get a boatload of money!”

“I never heard you complaining.”

“I don’t complain. Unlike some people.”

“Let’s not have these quarrels. They’re so tedious. You used to be fun. Maybe those stiffs got to you. Your little schoolboy’s boring ways are rubbing off on you.”

“Actually, funny you should say that . . . ,” Eden trailed off, smiling out the window. “In this weird way I feel like I’m the young one in the relationship.”

“Oh?” probed Otto, calmer now and intrigued. He was like a tempestuous roller coaster, slow and steady or plunging with speedy screams.

“His family is so conservative and old-line but he’s almost roaring to break out of it and I guess I help him do that.”

“No doubt they are not pleased, my dear, about you.”

“I’m sure they aren’t. But I think we make each other better. He’s an old, old soul and I make him feel younger. I’ve always been a free spirit and he makes me feel grounded and more mature. I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You obviously have such disdain for him. For this relationship.” Eden shook her head and looked at her watch.

“No, I’m sorry. Eden, honey, I . . . can’t lie to you. Naturally I always suspected that perhaps you might leave me for a younger man. You were my model who revered me, but of course I knew one day I’d wake up from my reverie to find that the student had outshined the master.”

“Otto, don’t be so dramatic. You did the leaving, might I remind you. You’re the one porking every hot piece of ass that comes through there.”

“It is what it is.” He shrugged matter-of-factly. “You know I love you more than anything. Always.”

They were bound together, forever, and they would have to get over this hurdle, not just for her future with Chase but because of their lifelong tether through Cole.

“I apologize for my shallow jealousies. They are foolish,” he admitted. “Tell me more about him.”

“I don’t know, I just . . . his devotion is so full, so persistent. Actually, he kind of reminds me . . .”

Her voice trailed off as it broke a bit. She could never utter Wes’s name to Otto. In that moment, on the phone with Otto, of all people, Eden realized something. That familiarity she loved in Chase? It wasn’t him. It was
her
. Her old self. Chase didn’t so much remind her of Wes—they were incredibly different. It was that Chase reminded her of
her, back then
.

“Yes,” Otto probed. “Who does he remind you of?”

“Nobody. Just my old self, that’s all.”

“I remember that girl. She was effervescent and beguiling and tempting and sparkling, and she still is.”

Eden sat quietly, wondering if Chase saw those qualities or thought of her as old and wise,
experienced
-sexy versus
hot
-sexy.

Otto continued, “I want you to know I love you still and want you to come over to talk, to sketch. Will you consider forgiving me and posing tomorrow? Working through this together?”

“No. I’m sorry, but no.”

“No? That’s it?”

“I can’t, Otto. I have to move on. Of course we’ll still be friends for Cole but as for spending time working together, I just can’t do it. Why torture each other with this feeding-tube crap? It’s better for everyone this way.”

“So that’s it? You’re just going to burn this bridge?” he sneered, surprised. “All this work we create together?”

“Yes, I guess I am. I’m all for burning bridges,” Eden said matter-of-factly. “If a bridge is rickety and wobbly and can hurt people, burn that shit down! You’ll build another with someone else. But as for me, I’m thumbing it to the next one.”

—Anonymous

 

 

 

I
t was over lunch at Swifty’s that Eden realized she had gone from art world and gossip sensation to full-blown celeb. She had arrived five minutes early to meet Allison, who had just finished parent-teacher conferences at Carnegie. While she waited at the teeny bar area, she first heard the general whispers she had long grown accustomed to: “ . . . Otto Clyde’s girlfriend . . . split . . . muse,” and the like, but then she heard bits and pieces of words like “Brooke DuPree . . . suicidal . . . what is Chase thinking . . . trouble.” Self-conscious, Eden pulled her soft scarf closer to her neck as if to insulate her not only from the draft coming from the vent above but also the raised silver forks ready to stab her.

“Sorry I’m late.” Allison sighed, bursting in, shawl aflutter, heels clacking. She double-kissed Eden, oblivious to the scores of mascara’d eyes upon them. “Apparently Kate has H.R.”

“What’s that?” Eden asked, noticing a Hitchcock blonde with a crisp pale bob staring at her over a glass of Chardonnay.

“
Homework Resistance
. Like it’s a syndrome now. Uh, hell yeah, I resisted homework, who doesn’t?”

Eden looked to the maître’d. “Hi, we’re both here now,” she said, glancing back at the table of ladies whose eyes were Krazy Glued to them. “Is there anything in the back?”

As the two followed the man to their table, Allison walked up alongside Eden.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just these women are all staring at me.”

“Yeah, well, big shocker, Brooke Lydon is like the Kevin Bacon of the Upper East Side. Except everyone is only two degrees away from her, not six. Ignore these wrinkly hags! They’re jealous, trust me! You think they really want to bang their crusty old billionaire husbands? You think they would put up with their gnarled asses if they didn’t have a trill in the bank? Fuck no. They’re not in love like you and Chase are. It’s all acting! They
play
the
Penthouse
Pet to
get
the penthouse! Got it?”

“I guess,” said Eden, putting down her wine.

“Speaking of which, I just saw that collector who has, like, four of your paintings, the one who lost everything with that Ponzi schemer guy? Anyway, that fab duplex we partied in a few years ago? On the market. Naturally the fuckers at Brown Harris wouldn’t print for how much. So annoying! You know my three least favorite words in the English language? Price Upon Request.”

Eden smiled weakly, sipping her water. Allison knew all was not well.

“I’m curious, Eden. Since when the hell did you ever care what anyone thought, anyway?” asked Allison. “I feel like in your old age you’re starting to obsess. It’s like you’re going through now what most women dealt with during adolescence and their twenties.”

“I know. It’s not like me. I’m so . . . off.”

“Well, of course you are! You and Otto were together for—”

“It’s not that,” Eden said, shaking her head.

“What, then?” Allison probed.

“The big you-know-what,” Eden said, arching her brows as she looked at the tablecloth.

“No. What?”

“Four-oh.”

“Not this garbage again. Please. I’m forty! I told you, I was freaking and then it came and went and it was, like, who the fuck cares?” Allison laughed. “It’s because all your life you were praised for your looks and you feel all that slipping away. But that’s all bullshit! It’s sexier in a way, to be older. Experience is hot!”

“Oh, come on, Alli. That’s ridiculous. What man leaves his wife for an older woman?”

“I can’t think of one, but I’m sure it’s been done.”

“Yeah, once. Somewhere. Think about it, when a woman actually still looks good, they say she looks good ‘for her age.’ But implicit in that so-called compliment is that a younger, firmer, fresher woman is still hotter.”

“That’s not true. Sometimes older woman are gorgeous without qualification of her age. Rene Russo in
Thomas Crown
.
En fuego!
”

“I don’t know. I’m used to . . . being—”

“Young and perfect and the
muse
,” Allison finished. “So get over it! Welcome to planet Earth, looks don’t matter that much! And hey, if you’re still obsessing and being vain, well, at least you know you’re still foxy enough that
Gotham
’s most eligible bachelor wants you. Thirty-nine is the new twenty-nine.”

“I feel like I have parentheses around my mouth,” Eden lamented, ashamed of her sudden vanity. “My nasolabial folds are getting worse.”

“Are you talking about your vagina or your face?” Allison teased.

“Shut up.”

“Listen to me, Eden. I’m your best friend and I’m starting to get annoyed with you: Stop being crazy.”

“You know, I see those guys on the subway who wear their vintage Clash tees and suspenders and hipster pants and messenger bags. And they’re my age but they’re—”

“Rejuveniles.” Allison nodded. “I read about them in
New York
magazine.”

“Exactly,” said Eden. “And I read that article and thought, no, no, that’s not me because I have a kid. But I think I’m both. I’m this mature mom but I’m also the wild child, like the people in that article. I think a big step is leaving Otto, like for real,” Eden said.

“I think that’s healthy. It’s time. A clean break is much better for both of you.”

“We talked for a long time and I know it’s sad but for the best. I just feel like under Otto’s watchful and judgmental eye, I’ll always doubt myself. Especially my relationship with Chase.”

“You just need to take one day at a time, E. Don’t overanalyze this; just enjoy what you guys have in your bubble. Forget these matrons or Otto or ‘the future.’”

“Well, that’s hard! Especially given my age. I mean what am I doing? Do I want to marry this guy? What am I searching for?”

“Why do you need the answers now?” Allison asked. “Fuck all these losers; just live your life! Give yourself a break.”

“I’m so confused. I have zero clarity about my life.”

“Hey, I’ve got news for you: You’re in the deli line at Zabar’s—take a number.
Everyone
hates getting older, but guess what?”

“What?”

“It sure is better than the alternative.”

—John Glenn

 

 

 

“H
ey, man, it’s Wills.” Chase heard his (former) best friend’s voice, slow and cautious over the phone. He had run to grab it after entering his apartment, hoping it was Eden, and instantly regretted his fourth-ring dash when it wasn’t her.

“Hey,” replied Chase, surprised. “It’s been a while. How have you been?”

“Yeah, it has, man. It’s actually really good to hear your voice . . . ,” Wills trailed off.

Chase was happy to hear from him as well, realizing only in that second how much he had moved on from his past life since he’d been seeing Eden.

“Yeah, you, too.”

“Look, Chase, I feel really bad about how everything went down. I’m sorry, you know, for everything—”

“Don’t even worry. It’s all in the past. I’m happy. You’re happy and I’m happy, and I’m glad everything worked out this way,” Chase said in all sincerity.

“I’m, uh, also calling to tell you something,” Wills said sheepishly. “I, uh,
we
have some news.”

 

 

Eden came home to find Chase outside her door with a dozen peonies.

“Well, you are a terrific sight this chilly night,” she said, beaming, wrapping her arms around him and kissing him. “Let’s go up!”