Fifteen

CARMINE’S CUCINA is a nice Italian place with a noisy, family-style atmosphere. Jack Wade had taken care of reservations and managed to get us a booth in one of the quieter areas of the bustling restaurant. This was a big deal. Not only were we managing the new and somewhat fragile relationship with Melody’s mother, we were adding Lissa’s ex into the mix.

Of course, I was late and they were all seated. Melody jumped up from her chair at the end of the booth and planted a hot kiss on me as soon as I approached the table. Lissa slid out of the booth and as soon as my lips were released from Mel, they were captured by Lissa. Then she turned to the table and introduced me.

“Jack, this is our boyfriend, Tony. Tony, this is Damon and Drew’s dad, Jack Wade.” I noted with pleasure that she didn’t introduce him as her ex, but as the boys’ dad. Jack and I shook hands. He was about the same age as Melody’s mom—maybe just a little older. He was a nice-looking guy, reasonably fit, but definitely showing his age. There was nothing either antagonistic or overly friendly about his handshake. It was the completely neutral grasp that you might expect of two business men being introduced. I didn’t know if I’d ever be friends with him, but something in me definitely wanted to earn his respect.

“I feel like I already know you,” Jack said. “Last week the boys went on and on about how I should read Dr. Seuss like Tony does. I may have to take lessons. How long does this Dr. Seuss phase last, anyway?”

“I’m not sure,” I answered with a grin. “I think I’d outgrown mine by the time I was in high school, though.” Jack groaned.

Apparently, I’d arrived at the restaurant too late to order. Food just started arriving along with a bottle of wine. The waitress looked skeptically at me as she was placing the wine glasses on the table. I waved her off. “I’m in training.”

“I’m the designated driver,” Lissa jumped in. “None for me, thanks.”

“Oh come on,” Melody said looking at the waitress. “Do I look like I’m old enough to drink? Just serve the old folks.”

Our waitress laughed and thanked us for making her job easier. She was cute. Her dark brown hair was curly, chin length, and was streaked with blonde so she almost looked like a tiger. I couldn’t make out the exact shade of brown but with the pink restaurant lighting and dancing candlelight on our table, I knew exactly how I’d paint the highlights in her dark tresses. She wore a scoop neck top that hung open dangerously when she leaned over the table to explain the gnocchi, cuttlefish and bean salad, and beet salad with pistachios. I felt a little pinch on my thigh and looked over at Lissa who was grinning at me mischievously. Busted. A guy can’t get away with anything. But the food was great!

“What are you studying, Melody?” Jack asked as we helped ourselves to the food.

“My first year has been taken up with general studio classes and 2D design,” Melody responded. “If all goes well, when I have my portfolio review, I’ll be admitted to the textile design program.”

“Another member of the fashion industry,” Jack laughed looking at Lissa.

“Sort of,” Melody agreed. “I love dressing Lissa up like a doll. But it’s really the fabric side that I’m interested in and it goes way beyond wearable fashion. I wanted to bring my loom out, but you can’t carry it on the plane. A little big.”

“Well, maybe you can shop for one around here. I could keep an eye out if you’d like,” Jack offered.

“That would be wonderful!”

“How about you, Jack,” Lexi asked. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m happy to say that I’m officially retired. I do a little consulting on the side, primarily working with the parents of young talent when they come into the agency. These kids come in—sometimes just eight years old—and it’s amazing what their parents expect. We get everything from people who only want their kids to work during spring break to those who expect their kids to be the primary wage-earner for the family. The agency calls me in about once a month to meet with difficult parents and explain to them what the life is really like.”

“What about the boys,” I asked. “Do you have plans for them to start modeling?”

“Not if I can help it,” Lissa broke in.

“I think Lissa and I agree that we won’t intentionally introduce the boys to modeling. I won’t object if they come to me and ask if they can try it, but offhand I’d say they have too many other interests. You are more likely to influence Damon into becoming an artist.”

“Me?” Jack just nodded. I felt a hand on each leg stroking me gently and looked at each of my lovers. I smiled to let them know I was okay. Actually, I was okay. The thought that I could influence Damon and Drew’s lives was a new concept to me and I found that it wasn’t at all unpleasant.

“Speaking of talent, have you seen the mural painting that Tony did of our girls?” Lexi asked. I was a little worried about where this could lead. She’d been trying hard not to be critical of us, even though I knew she was fighting her nature at times. But since the meltdown on Tuesday, we hadn’t actually spoken of the painting. It was the subtlety in her question, though, that impressed me. With just a few words, Lexi had positioned herself and Jack as parents with Lissa and Melody as “their girls.” I wasn’t sure how this was going to play out. But Jack really surprised me.

“Lissa gave me a tour of it this morning. She said I needed to know what I was getting into tonight.” I had no idea that Jack had seen the painting. “I don’t know much about art, but...”

“ ... you know what you like?” Melody and I concluded for him. We’d heard the old adage so frequently that we automatically supplied the end. Fortunately, everyone at the table laughed.

“Well, yes; there is that. But I also know enough to listen to what people who do know art have to say about it. I went back to look at it again this afternoon after Lissa went to the gym.”

“You did?” Lissa asked. “Why?”

“I took Ben Bowers with me.” My heart started beating in my throat. Ben Bowers is the art critic for the Times. That might not seem like much in a town like ours, but he was highly respected in art circles and had written critiques of work all over the world. He could be a scathing critic or a word from him could make the career of a new artist. Damn! Why had he brought an art critic to see a piece of student art? I grabbed both Lissa’s and Melody’s hands under the table and squeezed so tightly that they used their other hands to pry my fingers loose a little.

“Okay.” I finally managed to breathe out and gasped another lungful of air in. “I guess I’m ready. What did he say?” Jack smiled at me.

“I asked him to write it down for me so I could get the words right,” Jack said. He reached in his pocket and unfolded a typewritten page to read from. “They should take a saw and cut this piece out of the wall on which it was painted.“ Jack looked up at me and smiled. I was stunned. The best work I’d ever done and the first critic who sees it hates it. But Jack smiled and it wasn’t the vindictive smile that I expected. “I’m playing with you, Tony. Relax.”

“He didn’t say that?”

“Oh yes, he did. But I read it out of context. Let me give you the full notice. The mural as a whole is a lovely collage of scenes. The flow from focal point to focal point is the obvious work of a master. But one vignette stands out from the rest. This segment is the only thing people who visit will see as the rest of the forty-foot-long mural fades away by comparison. They should take a saw and cut this piece out of the wall on which it was painted. It deserves a place of prominence in a museum without the clutter that surrounds it. Obviously painted by a different artist than the rest of the mural, we can look forward to seeing future works from a student whose art will far surpass that of his master. I think that puts it into better perspective, don’t you?”

I was speechless. Melody’s mouth was hanging open and as Lissa reached to pull me into a hug she shot a chiding look at Jack. It was Lexi who broke the silence.

“Does this Ben Bowers know what he’s talking about?”

“Ben and I go way back,” Jack said. “He’s one of the foremost art critics in the country. He writes a column for the Times on the local art scene, but his critiques of major exhibitions around the world are syndicated in over 100 different newspapers and magazines in a dozen languages. Praise from Ben is something you can take to the bank.”

Lexi smiled at me. “My! I’m so proud of you, Tony.” My relief at what Jack and Ben had said outweighed my surprise at Lexi’s outburst. It didn’t go unnoticed by Melody, though, who beamed at her mother and hugged me again.

The rest of the meal went by pleasantly in typical slow Italian fashion. An hour and a half later we were sipping cappuccinos as a small band started gathering on the restaurant’s little stage. Tables nearby were moved back into more crowded spaces as the dinner service ended and people started coming in for drinks and music. They started off with some big band numbers, reset for the piano, drum, and bass trio. I could tell this was going to be a great end to the evening as the dance floor started to fill. Jack asked Lexi if she would dance with him and she blushed as she accepted his offered hand and he led her away from our table.

“You could dance, I don’t mind,” Lissa said to Melody and me. Melody looked at me expectantly.

“I’d love to,” I said.

“I hear a but... ?”

“You have a very nice one.”

“Come on.”

“No. The truth is practice was kind of hard on my ankle and I’d rather not dance on it,” I confessed. “I took a cab to get over here instead of walking. But why don’t you two dance?”

“I don’t see any other girl-girl couples on the dance floor,” Lissa said.