Chapter 40

Dan walked up to the front door of the art gallery with an arm around Sally and another arm around Ann. The gallery was packed with people, and he paused before releasing the two women to open the door for them. He couldn’t believe how many people were there for Sue’s opening.

He whistled and said, “It’s packed.”

Sally said, “Wow. There’s are a lot of people here.”

“That guy over there is Steve Bushman. He’s an art critic for Art World Magazine,” Ann said staring at the man. She couldn’t believe that he came there for Sue’s opening.

Dan smiled and said, “Maybe we ought to invite him over to the pizzeria.”

“He wouldn’t be interested in pizza,” Ann said looking at him. Steve Bushman was a famous art critic. There was no way that he’d go visit a pizzeria just to have something to eat.

“Maybe. Maybe not. I do think he would be interested in your mural,” Dan said with a grin.

“No, he wouldn’t. He’s interested in real art, not pizzeria murals,” Ann said. The idea that Steve Bushman would actually review her mural sent a little shiver through her body. She felt that would be a dream come true.

The trio entered the gallery. Almost immediately, they found they were facing the painting of Kim. Dan stared at it and shook his head. He couldn’t believe what Sue had managed to capture in that one painting. It was powerful.

Staring at it open mouthed, Ann said, “Shit!”

“I’d hate to get her mad at me,” Sally said staring at the picture.

Diana came over and said, “Amazing, isn’t it.”

“Yes, it is,” Dan said. The details of the face were close enough to Kim Parker’s face to be recognizable, but it could have been of any woman of that basic body and facial type. He looked down at the title of the painting, but the light reflecting off the silver plate made it difficult to read. He could barely make out the letters.

Ann noticed that he was trying to read the little plate and said, “It’s called The Great Reveal.”

“That’s a good name for it,” Sally said.

After having examined the other paintings by Sue that were hanging in the gallery, Steve Bushman stepped over to stand in front of the painting. This was the most emotionally powerful painting he had seen in years. It was refreshing to see a real masterpiece, after covering abstract messes that barely qualified as art. He said, “What a hideous looking woman. You can feel the vileness emanating from her. The façade she is setting aside is stunning in its beauty. The image is as emotion provoking as The Scream.”

Another man came over and looked at the picture. He said, “That is the stuff of nightmares. I can just image going to bed at night with the beauty and then waking up next to that horrid creature.”

Steve Bushman looked over at the other man and said, “She kind of reminds me of your first wife, Donald.”

“It’s nice to see you again, Steve,” Donald said with a laugh. His first wife wasn’t nearly as bad as the woman in that picture. It was close, but the woman in that picture was worse. There was such a raw hunger to hurt people expressed in that painting that it sent a shiver down his spine.

“It’s rather strange to see you outside of the city,” Steve said. Donald worked for a rather large New York newspaper with national distribution. He seldom had to travel to see a major opening.

“How are things over at that mass of advertising that you call a magazine?”

“Better than that place that produces birdcage liners you call a newspaper,” Steve said with a wry grin.

Donald laughed and said, “At least the birds read my reviews.”

“Yeah,” Steve said shaking his head. There was a little truth to that comment.

Donald said, “Don’t look so glum. Ten years from now patients waiting to see their doctor will be reading your reviews.”

Steve laughed and shook his head. Looking up at the painting, Steve couldn’t get over how powerful it was. He said, “Her work is as good as I’ve heard. Did you see some of her other pieces?”

He could see that a museum or two would be interested in hanging that picture on their walls. Nodding his head in agreement, Donald said, “Yes, I did. They are all very powerful, especially this one and that self portrait that she did.”

“That’s a chilling piece. I wonder what caused that pain,” Steve said. The sense of anguish and loss in that one painting had been overpowering. No one should ever have to feel that kind of pain.

“I don’t know, but she’s good. She’s captured a lot of different emotions in the pieces being shown here. That painting of the tall woman had me wanting to ask for her number. Can you imagine a woman looking at you that way?”

“Not in this lifetime,” Steve said.

“A woman at work insisted that I come here. I’m glad she insisted,” Donald said.

Dan led Diana, Ann, and Sally away from the pair of art critics. He heard enough to know that Sue would be receiving very good reviews from them. As they walked away, Diana said, “Sue is going to be very famous after this show.”

“Yes,” Dan said. He hoped that the fame didn’t go to her head. He spotted Sue, and waved to her.

She was surrounded by a large number of people, but she broke away from them and rushed over to Dan. She had been afraid that Dan wouldn’t leave the pizzeria to see the show. Hugging him, she said, “I’m so glad that you made it.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Dan said returning the hug.

“Pat and Betty are here, but they’ll be leaving soon to take care of the bar,” Sue said. She was pleased that her friends had gone to the trouble to make it to her first real public showing in a nationally recognized gallery.

“Ah. Pat might want to swing by the pizzeria and say hello to my father. He’s watching the store for me,” Dan said.

Sue laughed remembering when Pat had offered to be the third in his threesome fantasy. The look on his face deserved to be immortalized in a painting. She said, “I’m sure that he would enjoy a visit from her.”

Dan’s mother came over and said, “Hello, Sally and Ann. How are you doing?”

“We’re doing fine, Mrs. Parker,” Ann said slipping an arm around Sally.

“I hope Dan is behaving himself,” she said.

“He’s such a pain to live with. At least he’s paper trained. Now if we can just get him to stop chewing on the furniture...” Sally said with a grin.

Diana said, “You just have to hit him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper.”

Dan rolled his eyes as the women in his life laughed. He looked around for a moment and then said, “If you’ll excuse me for a minute.”

“Sure,” his mother said. She turned to Sue and said, “I love all of the paintings that you are showing here.”

Donald stepped into the pizzeria and looked around. The first thing that he noticed was that a couple of kids were sitting on the picnic table. He smiled thinking about the number of times he had done that. Another couple of kids were over at the air hockey table playing a game. They looked like they were having fun.

The guy who had invited him to visit the pizzeria was standing over at the counter making a pizza. The invitation for a free lunch was a little out of place at the opening, but the young man’s assurance that he wouldn’t get a better pizza anywhere else in the world, had won him over. Being from New York, he felt that it was a boast that deserved to be challenged.

Rather than go talk to him, he went over to the wall and looked at the mural. He laughed at the picture of the old woman in a bathrobe chasing the young man out of the dark bedroom. His laughter only continued as he made his way along the wall. For the moment he forgot about technique and enjoyed the story telling that was captured on the wall.

Walking over to the art critic, Dan said, “Here’s a mug of root beer.”

Accepting the mug, Donald looked at it in surprise. It had been years since he had a frosty mug of root beer. After taking a sip of it, he said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Dan said. He returned to the counter to let the man make his way around the room. He said, “When you’re done looking at the wall come and order your pizza.”

“Thanks,” Donald said.

He turned his attention back to the mural. This was the kind of art that had been lost in modern times. He remembered the bank where his mother used to keep her accounts. The walls had been covered with Depression Era murals painted by artists getting by under federal funding. While his mother would stand in line to take care of her banking, he would stand in front of those walls and stare at the paintings. Those faded paintings had sparked his early interest in art.

Dan watched Donald study the paintings for a few seconds and then returned to the business of producing pizzas. He was pretty sure that the man would appreciate the effort that had gone into the mural and recognize Ann’s talent.

Noticing that Dan had served the guy a drink without being asked, Sandra asked, “Who is that?”

“He’s an art critic from New York,” Dan answered.

“Oh,” Sandra said wondering where Dan had met an art critic from New York.

An hour later, Dan and Donald were seated at one of the patio tables. Donald said, “I won’t say that it’s the best pizza in the world, but it would definitely give any New York pizza a run for its money.”

“I’ll just have to respectfully disagree with that assessment,” Dan said with a smile. He didn’t really care if Donald liked his pizza or not. That had just been an excuse to get him over to see the mural.

“I will say that this mural is one of the best I’ve seen in years,” Donald said looking over at the walls. He said, “I’d like to see something of a more contemporary topic, but this one was definitely lighthearted and entertaining. I forgot about skill and technique while I was examining it. I just got caught up in the story.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Dan said.

It dawned on Donald why he had been invited over to the pizzeria. He said, “You didn’t invite me over for pizza. You wanted me to see this.”

“Guilty as charged,” Dan said with a smile.

Shaking his head, Donald asked, “Who is the artist?”

Dan answered, “Ann Boudreaux.”

“Where is she?” Don asked looking around. He hoped that it wasn’t the girl behind the counter.

“She’s at home,” Dan said. She was working on the layout for an advertising brochure. She didn’t really like the work, but it paid well.

“She didn’t know that you invited me here, did she?”

“Nope,” Dan answered. He handed Donald one of her cards and said, “Here’s her contact information.”

Donald studied Dan for a moment. He was pretty sure that he understood the relationship between Dan and the artist. She was his girlfriend and he was trying to help her launch her career. It wasn’t the first time he had been approached by a supportive boyfriend or girlfriend. He was amazed at how subtle Dan had been in his approach.

He looked over at the mural and said, “I’ve always liked murals.”

“To tell the truth, I’ve never really thought about them until Ann did the one in our bedroom,” Dan said.