A Balance of Harmonies: Breaking Barriers
Nov. 28th, 2013 02:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogs_of_warHappy Thanksgiving! I'm thankful for all of you.
Title: Breaking Barriers
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter one hundred forty-two of 145?
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: boredom, a go between commission, six, complaints, running hot, a scream, questions and statements, laughter, painting, commentary, portraits, compliments, breaking through, symphony, center of the universe, invitation, protection, food, confession
Length: about 3,300 words
Summary: Peregrine has a long, but fruitful evening.
Master list
Peregrine leaned over Kurt’s arm and kissed Emil. “Over half done.”
Kurt sighed. Peregrine gave him his kiss. “Bored?”
“Watching you is like watching a play.”
A good play, he hoped. “But…”
“But I’d rather have you home tonight.”
In bed with the men he loved. “Only a little longer. Then we can celebrate not doing this again for months.”
Peregrine liked showings, but then he stayed busy for the entire time. Emil and Kurt just stood around, being available to be shown off. Maybe they could be in charge of something. “See how many I have left to sell. We leave when the last one is sold.”
Kurt grinned.
Mike called Peregrine over. “This gentleman would like a word about doing a portrait.”
The guy wanted a family portrait to give to his daughter for her wedding, but he and his wife weren’t on speaking terms at the moment. Could Peregrine paint one of them at a time?
Peregrine could do a portrait from photos, but video would be better. Did the client want to speak to his wife about the arrangement or would he like Peregrine to approach her?
The man relaxed and set down a healthy deposit. Peregrine didn’t mind being the go-between. If she believed Peregrine had her best interests at heart, something she wasn’t liable to do if her husband stuck his foot in his mouth first, the whole affair would run smoother.
He got the woman’s name, number, and place of business. He better contact her tomorrow before her husband did.
“Six,” Kurt whispered in his ear.
Peregrine answered with a kiss. Mike groaned. Peregrine smacked his chest. “Don’t be like that. You’re getting some too.”
Mike left Hannah in charge two evenings a week to go to his club. “I’m missing a night out for this showing.”
He couldn’t be. Third Thursdays were always busy nights for galleries in the Pearl. That’s why Peregrine’s showing had been scheduled for today.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “You are not. Tuesdays and Fridays.”
Mike pouted. “But I’ve been invited to extracurricular activities.”
“He hasn’t.”
“I have.”
“You’re just chomping at the bit to tell us what happens at your club. If he tells, they’ll kick him out and he’ll have to find someone else who will blindfold him and tie him up.”
Mike grinned. “It’s a big…” He sighed. “We’re only allowed to talk about what happens at the club with other club members while we’re physically in the building and I’m always gagged.”
“Are you even allowed to say that?”
Peregrine turned at the sound of the bell over the door. Kurt’s mother. This was going to be fun. “Mike, get ready to sell my last six paintings.”
“You have to have more than six. Hannah, tell me he has more than six.” Mike ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t have the next shipment of art in until Monday. He can’t have sold everything already.”
“Not everything,” Peregrine grinned. “I still have six left.”
“Six is not enough!”
“What did I say? Running hot.” Hannah grinned.
Peregrine patted the counter. “Five, four, three, two, one.”
A woman screamed. The crowd turned her direction. Kurt’s mother marched up to Peregrine. “You ingrate. You infernal human being.”
She couldn’t even swear well. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t you ma’am me. I saw what you did to my son.”
“I’ve done a lot of thing with your son.” To him too to tell the truth. “Which do you mean?”
“You drew him naked!”
“Lead on.” He followed her to the area of Kurt and Emil pictures, stopping for a second by Kurt to ask him to let Peregrine handle her. She pointed at Inches from Paradise, where Kurt was a sleeping youth wearing only a sheet. Peregrine grinned. “I did, didn’t I?”
“How could you… put him on the wall… in the altogether?” She gesticulated so boldly that her handbag swung wildly on her arm.
“I rather like this one.”
“But he’s naked.”
“Yes, I rather like him that way.” Peregrine grinned up at Kurt. “Although he looks good in suits too.”
“But you’re showing them off to everyone!”
“That’s what I do.”
“Put naked men on the wall?”
“I sell paintings of naked men to other people to put on their walls.” He pointed at the sold card which had been slid over the title card. “This one belongs to someone already.”
“No.” Kurt’s mom glared at the title card. “Who would buy this?”
“I could find out. But I don’t think you really want to know.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to know? He’s my son.”
Hannah stepped up to Kurt’s mom. “Coffee or wine?”
Kurt’s mom shot Peregrine a glare. “Wine.”
Hannah handed her a glass. Kurt’s mother nodded. “Thank you, dear. Some people around here are polite.”
Peregrine put his hand over his heart. “That is one thing, ma’am, that I’ve never been accused of.”
“I can see why.” She took a sip and then a long drink of her wine. “What would your mother say if she could see you now?”
“Why don’t you ever come home for Christmas?”
“What?” Had she started in on the drinks before she’d arrived?
“That’s what she’d say.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You asked?”
“I did?”
“You did, didn’t she boys and girls?”
The crowd laughed. That made Peregrine feel almost as good as the look of befuddlement on her face. He savored the feeling. He really should be nice to her, but if she wanted to make a fool of herself in public, he wasn’t going to stop her. “My mother doesn’t care what I paint.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Never has.” Of course most of the stuff she saw was flowers and trees and the faces were family, dressed just as they were when he sketched them.
“Has she seen this?” She pointed what must have been randomly.
Peregrine smiled up at the painting. “That’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
This was the first of the door pictures and the transition to the next space. Kurt’s mom turned. “That’s not the one I meant.”
She walked around the corner. Her pace got slower as she went from painting to painting. She stopped in front of the door painting that illustrated Olivia’s dream: the viewer looking down on a field of flowers with tips of wings and the ruffly hem of a nightgown showing.
This was one of the paintings that wasn’t for sale. Kurt’s mother licked her lips.
“Do you like it?”
Kurt’s mother looked away. “No.”
She deliberately turned and walked out of the space. Peregrine lifted Kurt’s hand and kissed it. “Remind me to make one for her.”
“You’d do that?”
He’d do more than that to make Kurt happy. “She’s starting to grow on me.”
“What’s this?”
Peregrine hurried over. Kurt’s mom had found a Noah/Ezra painting.
“That isn’t even my son.” She pointed at the canvas. “Who are they?”
“Friends of ours.”
“And they let you paint them?”
“His mother,” Peregrine pointed to Noah, the merman, “paid to have this painted.”
“His mother?”
“Yeah.” She had wanted to make sure his abs showed. Ezra’s mother was just as bad. “She’s going to hang it in her living room and show it off to her friends.”
“She’s going to show it off?”
“Why not? She’s proud of her son. He’s not a Kurt or Emil, but he’s not bad looking.”
She studied the painting. “My son is more handsome.”
“So why don’t you have a portrait of your son.” He walked her over to Kurt’s portrait.
“He’s naked, isn’t he?”
A piece of red silk wasn’t really clothing, but it covered up enough that he could have been wearing something. “Is that what you think?”
She took a deep breath. “I think he’s just gotten out of a pool. He’s just dried off and that red thing is a robe.” She turned to him and clutched her handbag. “You aren’t going to sell that are you?”
Her gaze fastened on the title card. “It’s already sold.”
She looked like she was going to cry. Peregrine took her hand and led her to Hannah, who refilled her glass and shushed her. “Some of the paintings today were never for sell. I think Peregrine plans to keep that one. It’s one of a set.”
Kurt’s mother’s head popped up. “I have to see.”
She walked straight for the picture and looked over its mates. “Your nice friend is very pretty.”
Emil was.
“And you don’t look half bad. Do you always enhance the sitter?”
“Come on, look. Have I added anything?”
She glared at Peregrine then the painting and back. “I can’t put my finger on it, but you must have done something. You aren’t this,” she nodded at the painting, “good looking in real life.”
The crowd roared. Peregrine joined them. “I’ll take that as a compliment to my skill as an artist.”
“Could you make me look that good?” asked a woman about as old as Peregrine’s mother.
“But my lady,” Peregrine bent over her hand. “You are already that beautiful.”
The crowd laughed again. The woman smiled. “I want to look ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter. Can you do that?”
Where was a sketchbook? Emil set one in his hand. Peregrine really had the best boyfriends in the world. He opened the book. “Like this?”
He quickly sketched her. She stepped up to his side. “Can you give me more bust?”
He finished her basic outline and gave her bust a tad more definition. He looked back at her. She had a twinkle in her eye. He added that to the sketch. “How’s this?”
“I love it. Can I have it?”
Mike bit his lip. He got a percentage of anything sold though the gallery, but he wouldn’t make a cent on giveaways. Peregrine tore the sketch out of the book. “You can get a discount for any commission that hangs for a month in the gallery.”
“Yes!” The woman took the sketch up to the counter. “I want this matted and framed. And I have to have a painting about so big,” She mimed a rectangle, “so I can pass it by from time to time and pretend it’s a mirror. Cheaper than a face lift.”
People murmured in agreement. Several joined her at the counter and peppered Hannah with questions.
Kurt’s mother tapped Peregrine’s arm. “You aren’t finished with my tour yet.”
He took her arm. “Led the way.”
She made critical comments about almost every painting, but most were that Peregrine had picked the wrong shade of color for this or that. Mike’s older nephew refilled Kurt’s mother’s glass several times. When they got back to the painting of the three of them, she stopped and sighed. “You really do love him, don’t you?”
“I really do.”
“And he loves you.”
“I believe he does. I hope he does.”
“You show your affection in every stroke.”
He was glad it showed.
“I love him too, my little Kurt. My marriage has never been what I wanted. I blamed Dan, but it was equally my fault. I wanted…”
“What did you want? What would make you happy?”
She sighed. “I wanted to be an artist when I was young. Not like this. My mother would have let me draw or paint. I wanted to write symphonies.” She laughed. “That wasn’t something young ladies of my position did. Not what ladies of any position did. I might as well have said I wanted to play trombone.”
She had wanted to play trombone. Peregrine bit his lip to keep from smiling. “Portland as a symphony. We might be able to get tickets for this weekend.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You’d go with me.”
“Sure.” He patted her hand. “I’ll take you shopping too.”
She let out a long breath. “Kurt says I shouldn’t spend any more money.”
“How about you sell that necklace tomorrow and I’ll take you out on Saturday and you can not be the former Mrs. Daniel Styles for one weekend. No one knows you here. You could be anyone or anything.”
“I could be. Why not tomorrow, why wait? I’m not sure I want to wait.”
“I teach art to homeless youth on Fridays.”
“Why?”
Because his heart would break if he didn’t. “It helps me remember that I’m not the center of the universe.”
“You forget sometimes?”
“You don’t?”
She laughed, which was really a nice sound. “I don’t hate you anymore.”
“Thank you.”
“I think I’ll go back home.”
“I’ve heard home is where your heart is. Where is your heart?”
She dug through her handbag. Whatever she was looking for couldn’t be that hidden. The bag wasn’t very big. Oh. Her eyes were filled with tears. She daubed them with a tissue. “Sorry.”
“Stay here. At least for a while. I want to paint you.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “You don’t really.”
“I do. You have a compelling face. I can see a bit of Kurt in you.”
She smiled. “Are you sure you want me?”
“Yes. You can even stay in our guest room if you’re worried about the hotel bill.”
She groaned. “I have so many things to return when I get home. But it felt so good to spend money.”
“I’m sure it did.” It was her ex’s money after all.
Peregrine led her up to Kurt and Emil. “She’s agreed to stay in town for at least the weekend.”
“Peregrine insisted.”
Emil didn’t grimace, which showed his fortitude.
“Kurt, see if we can get symphony tickets. If not this weekend, next. You’ll just have to stay with us another week.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can. And she’s going to sit for me.”
“I am not.”
“Peregrine,” Hannah nodded toward the counter. “How many portraits can you promise? I’ve already got you booked at one a week though Memorial Day. That’s on top of requests for paintings similar to the ones already sold.”
“Get deposits from everyone. I can work on more than one painting at a time.” He could do several sketches per day and get ideas for color and size before he started in on the canvas. Portraits and requests were his bread and butter.
“If you sure.” Hannah smiled. “I don’t want you overworked.”
She went back to the counter.
“I should go home.” Pamela clutched her bag.
“You are having dinner with us.” Peregrine had lost track of how many times her wine glass had been refilled.
“No, I couldn’t.”
Peregrine leaned against Kurt’s side. “We can’t let her drive, at least not for a few hours.”
Kurt nodded and asked her how she liked Portland.
Peregrine gave one last tour and stopped at the counter. “How am I doing?”
“Perfect. Uncle made a bundle off you tonight.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. How many are left?”
“Unsold? Two or three.” Hannah scrolled down the computer page. “One.”
“Then I’m headed out. Are you closing up?”
“Already?” Mike frowned. “It’s only nine.”
“Well, my job is over.” Some young guy who should have been playing video games or texting his friends was chatting up Emil, while Kurt walked the room slowly with his mother. Emil was Peregrine’s. Grrr.
“Come back tomorrow and well go over everything.”
“Saturday.” No. He promised Saturday to Pamela. “Sunday afternoon.”
Mike shrugged and answered the phone.
Peregrine stepped behind Emil and slid a hand under his shirt. The kid’s eyes widened. Emil’s hand clamped onto Peregrine’s wrist. “Not in front of children.”
The kid caught his breath. Peregrine raised an eyebrow at him. “Is it your bedtime?”
“No!”
Emil twisted in Peregrine’s arms. “Is it mine?”
Peregrine growled. “Yes.”
The kid pouted and stomped away. Mike’s older nephew waylaid him with food. Never let a potential client walk away angry.
“Dinner?” Peregrine hadn’t eaten in hours.
“Are we really taking Kurt’s mother out to eat?”
But she didn’t want to go. She finally agreed to let Peregrine drive her car back to the hotel. He stopped and bought her a hamburger then cajoled her into eating it. He didn’t want to be responsible for her hangover.
Kurt and Emil were going to order take out. They might need to go home for the car, so Peregrine wasn’t in any hurry.
“I shouldn’t stay here.”
Here Portland or just the hotel?
“Why?”
“I…” Pamela stared out the restaurant window. “I don’t belong here.”
“Where do you belong?”
“Back at home with Dan and Kurt, Clara just a few minutes away.”
“Why?”
“What? They are my family.”
“Does a family have to live together? Would it make you happy? Is that the place you feel safest?”
“Safest? What does safety have to do with anything?”
Peregrine felt safer with Kurt and Emil then he did with his parents. “Comfortable? At ease? Is that big house really where you want to be?”
She shook her head, but not like she was saying no.
“But you want to go back?”
“It’s my home.”
“You’re expected to?”
“Of course.”
“By who?”
“By everyone!”
“By Kurt?”
“No.”
“Clara?”
“No.”
“Dan?”
She sighed.
“Those people that you care about most?”
“My sister wants me to live with her. Our husbands are living together.”
Their husbands were doing more than just living together.
“And you don’t want to?”
“Isn’t that just giving up?”
“Do you feel that way or do you think others will feel that way?”
“I want to live in the tropics.” She shot him a look. “Aren’t you going to tell me that’s stupid?”
“No. I think it’s great idea. You could come up during the hottest weather and visit Clara and her kids.”
“Do you think she’d want me? And don’t you think symphonies and the tropics are incompatible.”
“Why would they be? The US and Europe don’t have a monopoly on classical music. You could write symphonies anywhere, listen to them anywhere.”
“You are weird.”
Peregrine had heard that before.
“Why do you care what I do?”
“I love Kurt and he cares about you. He wants you to move on. You have many good years ahead of you. Why waste your future simply because you wasted your past?”
“I didn’t waste those years.” She stood up. Peregrine paid the bill and followed her out to the car. She didn’t talk to him until they pulled up outside the hotel. “Why are you so nice to me?”
He hadn’t been particularly nice to her. The valet took the car keys. Peregrine put his hand on Pamela’s back and steered her toward the front door. He wanted to make sure she made it to her room safely.
“Why?”
“How should I have treated you?” Better than he had.
“You invited me into your home, into your life if only for a few days. I wouldn’t have.”
He patted her shoulder. “You would have done what was required.”
She stopped in front of the elevator and hit the button. “I always do what is required.”
“Why don’t you do what you want?”
The door opened and they stepped in. Pamela hit the floor button. “I did that once. Did what I wanted. As a teenager, I had this giant crush on a friend of my father’s. His wife died when Clara was little. I used that as an excuse to go see him. He was soaked in grief and so very old. Or seemed so at the time. But his son was a college student, so young and handsome and in need of comfort after losing his mother. I never meant to… I wasn’t going to… Dan made me feel like a monster. He didn’t.”
The elevator doors opened. People stood outside. Peregrine walked Pamela to her door. She opened it and turned. “He can’t be Kurt’s father though. It was just an affair of the heart. It was never supposed to be more.”
But it was more.
“And Kurt doesn’t look anything like him.”
“His mother?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. But I did have a great grandfather who looked like Kurt.”
“Which doesn’t prove Kurt is Dan’s.”
“No.”
“But neither man cares.”
Pamela looked at the floor. “Ivo does. He wants Kurt to be his. He sent me roses the day I was served the divorce papers. He wants to see me again. I’m not ready.”
Was that why she’d dropped everything and flew across the country?
“When do you think you’ll be ready?”
“I should only be a memory for him. He wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love. I was so much older than him. He was so young.”
“A decade younger isn’t so young anymore.”
“Well, thank you.” She drew out the last two words.
Peregrine grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“You.” She patted his arm. “Now I just have to figure out how to face the man I ran from. Or even if I should.”
“Stay until you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
He waited until her door was closed then the texted Kurt to pick him up. He had a lot to think about.
Title: Breaking Barriers
Series: A Balance of Harmonies (Three)
Status: Chapter one hundred forty-two of 145?
Genre: m/m romance, drama, city life, businessmen
Rating: R
Content: boredom, a go between commission, six, complaints, running hot, a scream, questions and statements, laughter, painting, commentary, portraits, compliments, breaking through, symphony, center of the universe, invitation, protection, food, confession
Length: about 3,300 words
Summary: Peregrine has a long, but fruitful evening.
Master list
Peregrine leaned over Kurt’s arm and kissed Emil. “Over half done.”
Kurt sighed. Peregrine gave him his kiss. “Bored?”
“Watching you is like watching a play.”
A good play, he hoped. “But…”
“But I’d rather have you home tonight.”
In bed with the men he loved. “Only a little longer. Then we can celebrate not doing this again for months.”
Peregrine liked showings, but then he stayed busy for the entire time. Emil and Kurt just stood around, being available to be shown off. Maybe they could be in charge of something. “See how many I have left to sell. We leave when the last one is sold.”
Kurt grinned.
Mike called Peregrine over. “This gentleman would like a word about doing a portrait.”
The guy wanted a family portrait to give to his daughter for her wedding, but he and his wife weren’t on speaking terms at the moment. Could Peregrine paint one of them at a time?
Peregrine could do a portrait from photos, but video would be better. Did the client want to speak to his wife about the arrangement or would he like Peregrine to approach her?
The man relaxed and set down a healthy deposit. Peregrine didn’t mind being the go-between. If she believed Peregrine had her best interests at heart, something she wasn’t liable to do if her husband stuck his foot in his mouth first, the whole affair would run smoother.
He got the woman’s name, number, and place of business. He better contact her tomorrow before her husband did.
“Six,” Kurt whispered in his ear.
Peregrine answered with a kiss. Mike groaned. Peregrine smacked his chest. “Don’t be like that. You’re getting some too.”
Mike left Hannah in charge two evenings a week to go to his club. “I’m missing a night out for this showing.”
He couldn’t be. Third Thursdays were always busy nights for galleries in the Pearl. That’s why Peregrine’s showing had been scheduled for today.
Hannah rolled her eyes. “You are not. Tuesdays and Fridays.”
Mike pouted. “But I’ve been invited to extracurricular activities.”
“He hasn’t.”
“I have.”
“You’re just chomping at the bit to tell us what happens at your club. If he tells, they’ll kick him out and he’ll have to find someone else who will blindfold him and tie him up.”
Mike grinned. “It’s a big…” He sighed. “We’re only allowed to talk about what happens at the club with other club members while we’re physically in the building and I’m always gagged.”
“Are you even allowed to say that?”
Peregrine turned at the sound of the bell over the door. Kurt’s mother. This was going to be fun. “Mike, get ready to sell my last six paintings.”
“You have to have more than six. Hannah, tell me he has more than six.” Mike ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t have the next shipment of art in until Monday. He can’t have sold everything already.”
“Not everything,” Peregrine grinned. “I still have six left.”
“Six is not enough!”
“What did I say? Running hot.” Hannah grinned.
Peregrine patted the counter. “Five, four, three, two, one.”
A woman screamed. The crowd turned her direction. Kurt’s mother marched up to Peregrine. “You ingrate. You infernal human being.”
She couldn’t even swear well. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t you ma’am me. I saw what you did to my son.”
“I’ve done a lot of thing with your son.” To him too to tell the truth. “Which do you mean?”
“You drew him naked!”
“Lead on.” He followed her to the area of Kurt and Emil pictures, stopping for a second by Kurt to ask him to let Peregrine handle her. She pointed at Inches from Paradise, where Kurt was a sleeping youth wearing only a sheet. Peregrine grinned. “I did, didn’t I?”
“How could you… put him on the wall… in the altogether?” She gesticulated so boldly that her handbag swung wildly on her arm.
“I rather like this one.”
“But he’s naked.”
“Yes, I rather like him that way.” Peregrine grinned up at Kurt. “Although he looks good in suits too.”
“But you’re showing them off to everyone!”
“That’s what I do.”
“Put naked men on the wall?”
“I sell paintings of naked men to other people to put on their walls.” He pointed at the sold card which had been slid over the title card. “This one belongs to someone already.”
“No.” Kurt’s mom glared at the title card. “Who would buy this?”
“I could find out. But I don’t think you really want to know.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to know? He’s my son.”
Hannah stepped up to Kurt’s mom. “Coffee or wine?”
Kurt’s mom shot Peregrine a glare. “Wine.”
Hannah handed her a glass. Kurt’s mother nodded. “Thank you, dear. Some people around here are polite.”
Peregrine put his hand over his heart. “That is one thing, ma’am, that I’ve never been accused of.”
“I can see why.” She took a sip and then a long drink of her wine. “What would your mother say if she could see you now?”
“Why don’t you ever come home for Christmas?”
“What?” Had she started in on the drinks before she’d arrived?
“That’s what she’d say.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“You asked?”
“I did?”
“You did, didn’t she boys and girls?”
The crowd laughed. That made Peregrine feel almost as good as the look of befuddlement on her face. He savored the feeling. He really should be nice to her, but if she wanted to make a fool of herself in public, he wasn’t going to stop her. “My mother doesn’t care what I paint.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Never has.” Of course most of the stuff she saw was flowers and trees and the faces were family, dressed just as they were when he sketched them.
“Has she seen this?” She pointed what must have been randomly.
Peregrine smiled up at the painting. “That’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
This was the first of the door pictures and the transition to the next space. Kurt’s mom turned. “That’s not the one I meant.”
She walked around the corner. Her pace got slower as she went from painting to painting. She stopped in front of the door painting that illustrated Olivia’s dream: the viewer looking down on a field of flowers with tips of wings and the ruffly hem of a nightgown showing.
This was one of the paintings that wasn’t for sale. Kurt’s mother licked her lips.
“Do you like it?”
Kurt’s mother looked away. “No.”
She deliberately turned and walked out of the space. Peregrine lifted Kurt’s hand and kissed it. “Remind me to make one for her.”
“You’d do that?”
He’d do more than that to make Kurt happy. “She’s starting to grow on me.”
“What’s this?”
Peregrine hurried over. Kurt’s mom had found a Noah/Ezra painting.
“That isn’t even my son.” She pointed at the canvas. “Who are they?”
“Friends of ours.”
“And they let you paint them?”
“His mother,” Peregrine pointed to Noah, the merman, “paid to have this painted.”
“His mother?”
“Yeah.” She had wanted to make sure his abs showed. Ezra’s mother was just as bad. “She’s going to hang it in her living room and show it off to her friends.”
“She’s going to show it off?”
“Why not? She’s proud of her son. He’s not a Kurt or Emil, but he’s not bad looking.”
She studied the painting. “My son is more handsome.”
“So why don’t you have a portrait of your son.” He walked her over to Kurt’s portrait.
“He’s naked, isn’t he?”
A piece of red silk wasn’t really clothing, but it covered up enough that he could have been wearing something. “Is that what you think?”
She took a deep breath. “I think he’s just gotten out of a pool. He’s just dried off and that red thing is a robe.” She turned to him and clutched her handbag. “You aren’t going to sell that are you?”
Her gaze fastened on the title card. “It’s already sold.”
She looked like she was going to cry. Peregrine took her hand and led her to Hannah, who refilled her glass and shushed her. “Some of the paintings today were never for sell. I think Peregrine plans to keep that one. It’s one of a set.”
Kurt’s mother’s head popped up. “I have to see.”
She walked straight for the picture and looked over its mates. “Your nice friend is very pretty.”
Emil was.
“And you don’t look half bad. Do you always enhance the sitter?”
“Come on, look. Have I added anything?”
She glared at Peregrine then the painting and back. “I can’t put my finger on it, but you must have done something. You aren’t this,” she nodded at the painting, “good looking in real life.”
The crowd roared. Peregrine joined them. “I’ll take that as a compliment to my skill as an artist.”
“Could you make me look that good?” asked a woman about as old as Peregrine’s mother.
“But my lady,” Peregrine bent over her hand. “You are already that beautiful.”
The crowd laughed again. The woman smiled. “I want to look ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter. Can you do that?”
Where was a sketchbook? Emil set one in his hand. Peregrine really had the best boyfriends in the world. He opened the book. “Like this?”
He quickly sketched her. She stepped up to his side. “Can you give me more bust?”
He finished her basic outline and gave her bust a tad more definition. He looked back at her. She had a twinkle in her eye. He added that to the sketch. “How’s this?”
“I love it. Can I have it?”
Mike bit his lip. He got a percentage of anything sold though the gallery, but he wouldn’t make a cent on giveaways. Peregrine tore the sketch out of the book. “You can get a discount for any commission that hangs for a month in the gallery.”
“Yes!” The woman took the sketch up to the counter. “I want this matted and framed. And I have to have a painting about so big,” She mimed a rectangle, “so I can pass it by from time to time and pretend it’s a mirror. Cheaper than a face lift.”
People murmured in agreement. Several joined her at the counter and peppered Hannah with questions.
Kurt’s mother tapped Peregrine’s arm. “You aren’t finished with my tour yet.”
He took her arm. “Led the way.”
She made critical comments about almost every painting, but most were that Peregrine had picked the wrong shade of color for this or that. Mike’s older nephew refilled Kurt’s mother’s glass several times. When they got back to the painting of the three of them, she stopped and sighed. “You really do love him, don’t you?”
“I really do.”
“And he loves you.”
“I believe he does. I hope he does.”
“You show your affection in every stroke.”
He was glad it showed.
“I love him too, my little Kurt. My marriage has never been what I wanted. I blamed Dan, but it was equally my fault. I wanted…”
“What did you want? What would make you happy?”
She sighed. “I wanted to be an artist when I was young. Not like this. My mother would have let me draw or paint. I wanted to write symphonies.” She laughed. “That wasn’t something young ladies of my position did. Not what ladies of any position did. I might as well have said I wanted to play trombone.”
She had wanted to play trombone. Peregrine bit his lip to keep from smiling. “Portland as a symphony. We might be able to get tickets for this weekend.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You’d go with me.”
“Sure.” He patted her hand. “I’ll take you shopping too.”
She let out a long breath. “Kurt says I shouldn’t spend any more money.”
“How about you sell that necklace tomorrow and I’ll take you out on Saturday and you can not be the former Mrs. Daniel Styles for one weekend. No one knows you here. You could be anyone or anything.”
“I could be. Why not tomorrow, why wait? I’m not sure I want to wait.”
“I teach art to homeless youth on Fridays.”
“Why?”
Because his heart would break if he didn’t. “It helps me remember that I’m not the center of the universe.”
“You forget sometimes?”
“You don’t?”
She laughed, which was really a nice sound. “I don’t hate you anymore.”
“Thank you.”
“I think I’ll go back home.”
“I’ve heard home is where your heart is. Where is your heart?”
She dug through her handbag. Whatever she was looking for couldn’t be that hidden. The bag wasn’t very big. Oh. Her eyes were filled with tears. She daubed them with a tissue. “Sorry.”
“Stay here. At least for a while. I want to paint you.”
The corners of her mouth turned up. “You don’t really.”
“I do. You have a compelling face. I can see a bit of Kurt in you.”
She smiled. “Are you sure you want me?”
“Yes. You can even stay in our guest room if you’re worried about the hotel bill.”
She groaned. “I have so many things to return when I get home. But it felt so good to spend money.”
“I’m sure it did.” It was her ex’s money after all.
Peregrine led her up to Kurt and Emil. “She’s agreed to stay in town for at least the weekend.”
“Peregrine insisted.”
Emil didn’t grimace, which showed his fortitude.
“Kurt, see if we can get symphony tickets. If not this weekend, next. You’ll just have to stay with us another week.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can. And she’s going to sit for me.”
“I am not.”
“Peregrine,” Hannah nodded toward the counter. “How many portraits can you promise? I’ve already got you booked at one a week though Memorial Day. That’s on top of requests for paintings similar to the ones already sold.”
“Get deposits from everyone. I can work on more than one painting at a time.” He could do several sketches per day and get ideas for color and size before he started in on the canvas. Portraits and requests were his bread and butter.
“If you sure.” Hannah smiled. “I don’t want you overworked.”
She went back to the counter.
“I should go home.” Pamela clutched her bag.
“You are having dinner with us.” Peregrine had lost track of how many times her wine glass had been refilled.
“No, I couldn’t.”
Peregrine leaned against Kurt’s side. “We can’t let her drive, at least not for a few hours.”
Kurt nodded and asked her how she liked Portland.
Peregrine gave one last tour and stopped at the counter. “How am I doing?”
“Perfect. Uncle made a bundle off you tonight.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear. How many are left?”
“Unsold? Two or three.” Hannah scrolled down the computer page. “One.”
“Then I’m headed out. Are you closing up?”
“Already?” Mike frowned. “It’s only nine.”
“Well, my job is over.” Some young guy who should have been playing video games or texting his friends was chatting up Emil, while Kurt walked the room slowly with his mother. Emil was Peregrine’s. Grrr.
“Come back tomorrow and well go over everything.”
“Saturday.” No. He promised Saturday to Pamela. “Sunday afternoon.”
Mike shrugged and answered the phone.
Peregrine stepped behind Emil and slid a hand under his shirt. The kid’s eyes widened. Emil’s hand clamped onto Peregrine’s wrist. “Not in front of children.”
The kid caught his breath. Peregrine raised an eyebrow at him. “Is it your bedtime?”
“No!”
Emil twisted in Peregrine’s arms. “Is it mine?”
Peregrine growled. “Yes.”
The kid pouted and stomped away. Mike’s older nephew waylaid him with food. Never let a potential client walk away angry.
“Dinner?” Peregrine hadn’t eaten in hours.
“Are we really taking Kurt’s mother out to eat?”
But she didn’t want to go. She finally agreed to let Peregrine drive her car back to the hotel. He stopped and bought her a hamburger then cajoled her into eating it. He didn’t want to be responsible for her hangover.
Kurt and Emil were going to order take out. They might need to go home for the car, so Peregrine wasn’t in any hurry.
“I shouldn’t stay here.”
Here Portland or just the hotel?
“Why?”
“I…” Pamela stared out the restaurant window. “I don’t belong here.”
“Where do you belong?”
“Back at home with Dan and Kurt, Clara just a few minutes away.”
“Why?”
“What? They are my family.”
“Does a family have to live together? Would it make you happy? Is that the place you feel safest?”
“Safest? What does safety have to do with anything?”
Peregrine felt safer with Kurt and Emil then he did with his parents. “Comfortable? At ease? Is that big house really where you want to be?”
She shook her head, but not like she was saying no.
“But you want to go back?”
“It’s my home.”
“You’re expected to?”
“Of course.”
“By who?”
“By everyone!”
“By Kurt?”
“No.”
“Clara?”
“No.”
“Dan?”
She sighed.
“Those people that you care about most?”
“My sister wants me to live with her. Our husbands are living together.”
Their husbands were doing more than just living together.
“And you don’t want to?”
“Isn’t that just giving up?”
“Do you feel that way or do you think others will feel that way?”
“I want to live in the tropics.” She shot him a look. “Aren’t you going to tell me that’s stupid?”
“No. I think it’s great idea. You could come up during the hottest weather and visit Clara and her kids.”
“Do you think she’d want me? And don’t you think symphonies and the tropics are incompatible.”
“Why would they be? The US and Europe don’t have a monopoly on classical music. You could write symphonies anywhere, listen to them anywhere.”
“You are weird.”
Peregrine had heard that before.
“Why do you care what I do?”
“I love Kurt and he cares about you. He wants you to move on. You have many good years ahead of you. Why waste your future simply because you wasted your past?”
“I didn’t waste those years.” She stood up. Peregrine paid the bill and followed her out to the car. She didn’t talk to him until they pulled up outside the hotel. “Why are you so nice to me?”
He hadn’t been particularly nice to her. The valet took the car keys. Peregrine put his hand on Pamela’s back and steered her toward the front door. He wanted to make sure she made it to her room safely.
“Why?”
“How should I have treated you?” Better than he had.
“You invited me into your home, into your life if only for a few days. I wouldn’t have.”
He patted her shoulder. “You would have done what was required.”
She stopped in front of the elevator and hit the button. “I always do what is required.”
“Why don’t you do what you want?”
The door opened and they stepped in. Pamela hit the floor button. “I did that once. Did what I wanted. As a teenager, I had this giant crush on a friend of my father’s. His wife died when Clara was little. I used that as an excuse to go see him. He was soaked in grief and so very old. Or seemed so at the time. But his son was a college student, so young and handsome and in need of comfort after losing his mother. I never meant to… I wasn’t going to… Dan made me feel like a monster. He didn’t.”
The elevator doors opened. People stood outside. Peregrine walked Pamela to her door. She opened it and turned. “He can’t be Kurt’s father though. It was just an affair of the heart. It was never supposed to be more.”
But it was more.
“And Kurt doesn’t look anything like him.”
“His mother?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. But I did have a great grandfather who looked like Kurt.”
“Which doesn’t prove Kurt is Dan’s.”
“No.”
“But neither man cares.”
Pamela looked at the floor. “Ivo does. He wants Kurt to be his. He sent me roses the day I was served the divorce papers. He wants to see me again. I’m not ready.”
Was that why she’d dropped everything and flew across the country?
“When do you think you’ll be ready?”
“I should only be a memory for him. He wasn’t supposed to have fallen in love. I was so much older than him. He was so young.”
“A decade younger isn’t so young anymore.”
“Well, thank you.” She drew out the last two words.
Peregrine grinned. “You’re welcome.”
“You.” She patted his arm. “Now I just have to figure out how to face the man I ran from. Or even if I should.”
“Stay until you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
He waited until her door was closed then the texted Kurt to pick him up. He had a lot to think about.
