Creative License (13 page)

In two strides, Caleb had Lily in his arms. “Lily, I… I…” he murmured into her hair. He wanted to say everything, but had the words for nothing.

She pulled away and placed a finger against his lips. “Just make love to me, Caleb.”

He nodded and led her into the bedroom.

Even three hours later, the sound of the door shutting still echoed in the small apartment. Caleb stared at his home without seeing it. He sat on the couch, absently staring at the blank walls.

He hadn’t slept, waking in the middle of the night to watch Lily sleep, his eyes feasting on the sight of her, breathing in the scent of her body and listening to the gentle sigh of her breath. And then she’d woken up and time had sped. She left. He’d cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. Every surface gleamed. With an aching heart, he’d even torn the sheets off the bed, burying his face in the material to catch her scent before he carried them downstairs to the laundry room. They now lay in a spring-fresh pile ready to be put back on his bed.

He slowly turned, weighing the shabby furniture, the mismatched dishes drying in the rack. How could he have been so stupid? Lily, who came from the Wedgewood and Waterford crowd, could never have lived with bargain basement central. Disgust and anger burned in him, blurring his vision. She was going back to where she belonged. He should be happy for her, but he wasn’t. She wouldn’t even let him take her to the damn airport, give him those extra thirty minutes with her.

Maybe for her, the weekend had been just a tryst. But like an idiot, he’d fallen for her, again. Now all he could do was wait for the divorce papers. He stood and grabbed his keys off the counter. Damn if he’d stay here one moment longer. Even scrubbed clean, Lily haunted every inch of the apartment.

Lily stepped into Logan International and without glancing at the signs, headed toward baggage claim. The scent of greasy, sugary foods mixed with coffee and body odor. Her stomach heaved. She hadn’t eaten anything since her dinner with Caleb the night before. She wove between people, in a hurry to pick up her suitcase and then her vision blurred. What was she hurrying for? What was there to go home to? She slowed as she passed the security checkpoint.

“Lily?” Her sister emerged from the crowd.

“Sharon.” She threw her arms around her sister, fighting tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t a big sister pick her baby sister up from the airport without the third degree?” Sharon teased, but the lines around her eyes were more pronounced and her make-up wasn’t as flawless as usual.

“Of course.” Lily examined Sharon’s eyes.

“How did it go with the hubby?”

Without warning, Lily burst into tears.

Sharon’s arms closed around her. “What did he do?”

Lily shook her head, but the tears kept falling.

“Lily, answer me. What happened?”

“He was wonderful.” Lily accepted a tissue from her sister, wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

Sharon’s dark eyes softened. “I’m sorry, sweetie.” She grasped Lily’s hand and patted it. “Come on. Let’s get your things and go.” Lily took comfort in Sharon’s touch as they waited for her luggage and then headed toward the parking garage.

Once they were inside her sister’s Mercedes, Sharon placed her hands on the wheel but didn't turn the ignition. “Patrick is having an affair.”

Lily gasped. “Oh, Sharon, are you sure?” Sharon nodded and then let out a sound between a laugh and a cough. “He used the wrong credit card to buy her flowers a few weeks ago. I did a little snooping.” She rubbed her eyes.

“What are you going to do?”

Sharon turned tired eyes in Lily’s direction. “What can I do?”

“You could leave his ass.”

“Is this goody-two-shoes Lily speaking?” Sharon attempted a smile but only one corner of her mouth turned. “No, it just isn’t done. I’m not ready for that kind of gossip. I don’t want to start over.” She breathed in. “Momma says the first one is always the hardest.”

“What?” Lily’s voice rose. She knew her parents’ marriage wasn’t full of affection but an affair? She grabbed her sister’s hand.

“Did you really think Daddy was faithful? I found out when I was in junior high. I walked in on him and his secretary.”

Lily blinked. That was right around the time Sharon cleaned up her act. “But Mother…”

“Sometimes you can be so naïve. Mother knows, she’s always known.”

“Divorce is not the anathema it once was.” Lily tried.

“Lily, please. It is for us. You know as well as I do that appearances must be maintained. Patrick is running for state assembly and Daddy, well Daddy… These things happen. Patrick won’t leave me. It’s just a dalliance on the side, entertainment.”

Lily leaned against the car’s plush leather seat and stared through the windshield at the grey concrete walls. “What will you do?” Her voice sounded dead to her ears.

Sharon started the car. “I just hired a new gardener—a beautiful, strong, new gardener.” Her voice gained in strength but her eyes still sparkled with tears.

Chapter Eleven

Her living room felt somehow foreign. Too big, sterile, empty of life. Of Caleb. She stared at the soaring ceilings. The heaviness of the empty space settled on her shoulders and slowed her step. Her gaze brushed the custom drapery that hid a magnificent view of the city. The click of her heels against the wooden floor echoed down the hall, punctuated by the slight squeak of the suitcase’s wheels.

Pausing at the doorway to her room, she took in the large bed, dark wooden posts contrasting with the snow white duvet and pillows, but seeing another bed filled with warmth and passion. She blinked to break the spell and lifted the suitcase, setting it heavily on the chest at the foot of her bed. Unzipping it, she flung it open and stared blankly at the clothes inside. She pulled out a blouse and held it to her chest. Was it her imagination, or did it still smell slightly of Caleb?
Stop it, this melancholy nonsense is not like me at all. Get on with it.

Methodically, she sorted through the clothes, separating them into piles on her pristine bed. Some to take to the cleaners, others to hang back in her closet, until only the bags holding her shoes were left. Taking a deep breath, she removed the black sling backs only to feel an additional weight in the calf-colored bag. She reached in and retrieved a small box. Even before she opened it, she knew what she’d find inside.

Sliding down the bed to settle on the Aubusson rug, she stared at the thin golden band and the note:
This belongs to you.

The candle flickered, blurring the colors of the flower arrangement and reminding her of a watercolor she’d seen in Caleb’s studio. What would he do if he were here? Would he watch it, memorizing how the colors blended so he could reproduce it back in the studio?

“Earth to Lily?” Lily blinked and turned to Stewart. As he smiled, his pale blue eyes crinkled at the corners in his tanned face.

“Sorry.” She picked up her wine glass and put it back down without drinking.

“You seem a little distracted lately.” He laid down his fork with a perfectly manicured hand.

Lily glanced at the other members around the table. Her parents sat speaking in animated tones to Stewart’s parents. An ideal scene. Then why did she feel like she was only a spectator?

“I’m just tired.” This time she took a sip of her wine.

“You’ve been working too hard since you returned from your vacation. Dad says you’re burning the midnight oil.”

Oil on canvas.
Would everything remind her of Caleb? It had been three weeks. Three weeks of working until she was too exhausted to think. Three weeks of reminding herself she’d done what was the best for both of them. Of trying not to remember. She'd gone shopping with her mother and sister and attended a few parties like an automaton, but she couldn’t remember who she spoke to or what she did there. She should have been glad to be back in her apartment, among her things, but she wasn’t. Every detail, perfectly selected to match and blend with everything else, lacked personality. She considered selling it or at least painting the bland beige walls, but couldn’t find the energy to do either.

Glancing around the table, she took in the restaurant. One of Stewart’s favorites. Besides the occasional gleam of crystal or flash of a bejeweled hand refracting the candlelight, the room was dim, sedate. Completely what she’d grown up with and expected, but her frustration mounted. What would happen if she simply stood up, threw her napkin down and said enough was enough. She was going home.

But where was home? She briefly closed her eyes to picture a small apartment and dark green eyes.

Caleb’s opening was this weekend. She’d received an invitation in the mail a few days after she returned to Boston. She squared her shoulders. That had been a fantasy. Caleb was a dream. A dream ended by the divorce documents sitting in her briefcase for the last week. Documents she’d yet to sign and mail to San Francisco.

She glanced at her mother. The newest plastic surgery scars were healed. She looked stunning, not old enough to be anyone’s mother. She now knew, thanks to her sister, the newest surgery was a direct result of her father’s new mistress. This was reality. This was her life.

An image of the wrinkled woman in a photograph in Caleb’s studio flashed before her eyes.
Can’t you see the beauty in her face, the experience, the life?

Her mother’s perfectly groomed fingers curled around her martini. Lily had lost count but she’d guess it was her mother’s fourth. Is that what she’d be like in thirty years? Perfectly groomed, well-mannered and lonely, attempting to stay young and pretty enough to compete with her husband’s mistresses? She’d never seen her parents exchange more than a friendly peck on the cheek, but she always assumed they were in love. Had they ever been? Had they ever played footsie under the table? Whispered naughty things in each other’s ear while standing in a crowd?

Lily took another sip and glanced at Sharon and her husband. They had exchanged polite conversation throughout the meal. She could see the tired resignation in her sister’s eyes.

Stewart squeezed her hand. “Soon you won’t have to work at all.”

She opened her mouth to question him but he cleared his throat and pinged the fork on the side of his wine glass. “I suppose you’re wondering why I invited you all here today.” He beamed.

“I thought it was for the divine food and conservation, my dear.” Her mother laughed.

Stewart smiled. “That is a given whenever you’re in attendance, Martha.”

Lily stared at her mother’s face, trying to read the sparkle in her eyes. Sadness or happiness? Her gaze found Sharon’s eyes. For a moment she was sucked into their depths. Was her sister happy with her life?

The sound of a chair sliding across carpet caught her attention. She glanced over to find Stewart kneeling before her, a pale blue box in his hand. The wine hit her stomach hard and all the blood left her head.

“Lily, in front of our family,” he smiled toward the table and then turned back to her, “I’m asking you to be my wife.” He flipped open the box to reveal a large round solitaire nestled in Tiffany blue.

The diamond sparkled, taking up her entire line of vision. In it she saw a stately house, a maid, two children, committees, PTA, everything she expected out of life. She glanced at her now beaming mother and father, at Stewart’s parents, who stared at her with expectation, and then her gaze finally rested on her sister. Sharon’s mouth turned up slightly at the corners.

Lily turned back to Stewart, stared at the box and then brought her gaze to his. For better or for worse. She knew her answer.

Chapter Twelve

Light spilled onto the sidewalk from windows displaying well-dressed men and women holding champagne and smiling. Lily stepped out of the cab, paid the man and stood on the corner before the entrance to the Weinstein gallery in San Francisco. She took a deep breath. The evening crowd moved around her. She glanced over her shoulder at Union Square and then across the street at the Regis St. Francis and nervously smoothed down her skirt, failing to remove any of the travel wrinkles. “Just do it,” she muttered and stepped inside.

White tile and walls contrasted sharply with the colorful paintings on display. Lily stepped further inside to notice an impressive spiral staircase leading to more displayed art below and a second level above. Women draped in diamonds and men in suits stood in small groups, all with champagne in hand.

Lily waved off a waiter offering flutes of the golden bubbles and stepped toward one wall. Pride welled in her breast while tears burned her eyes as she viewed Caleb’s art pinned to the walls by spotlights. The crowd murmured approvals around her.

She froze and her heart beat staccato against her ribs when she saw Caleb. He stood next to an older gentleman, his hair slicked back into a queue. A dark suit flattered his wide shoulders and tapered waist. He took her breath away. Next to him was a large painting, one she’d never seen before. Shades of dark wine and vivid blue slashed across the canvass, striated with touches of orange. Offset near the left hand side, sat a large white lily gilded with a hint of gold. She turned toward Caleb again.

As though he could sense her appraisal, Caleb looked up and his gaze locked on her. He said something to the gentleman next to him and slowly made his way toward her. The crowd noise faded to a low background drone. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from Caleb’s green eyes. He stopped in front of her, close enough that she drew his scent deep into her lungs.

“You came.”

She opened her mouth but he laid one finger against her lips. “Before you say a word.” His voice was hoarse. He blinked and she was shocked to see tears glisten in his eyes. “Lily, all of this means nothing without you in my life. I was an idiot. I should have said… done something… Please, don’t go back to Boston. Stay here with me.” He dipped down on one knee and opened a dark blue box with a small diamond solitaire nestled in the soft velvet. “Marry me. I mean again, for real. I can’t give you the life you’re accustomed to but I can love you; I do love you. I’ll love you forever.”

She looked down on the green eyes now blurred by tears and emotion, and sank down on the floor next to him. “Caleb, you are my life. Without you…” She waved her hand. “Everything else is empty. I’ve missed you so much. It was like I was half-alive and I’m only now taking a breath. I don’t care about anything else.”