“Mm-hmm.” Sasha nodded, before she scowled. “Well, there was this period of a few years where Tom went... Well, he was travelling and then his father died and then... Well, it doesn’t even matter. We took a little break though.”
“A little break?” Luis asked, but Marnie could see his eyes resting on Ari.
“Yes,” Sasha said, and there was an edge to her voice. “Just a little break. We both needed to decide on what we really wanted out of life. I had options other than Tom, you know. Other men wanted to marry me.”
“Well, of course they did, darling,” Sebastian replied. “You were runner-up Miss Teen Rhode Island.”
“I know, right?” Sasha said emphatically. “But I still went back to Tom, in the end.”
“You went back to him?” Luis pressed her, his eyes still on Ari.
“Yes,” Sasha nodded. “He came back to me... oh, a few years after his father died? Not that it matters. We ran into each other at a polo match upstate. Such a dull sport.” Sasha rolled her eyes. “Who likes horses, anyway?”
“Clearly your fiancé does,” Sebastian said blankly, “if he was at a polo match.”
“No.” Sasha picked at a cuticle. “No, he wasn’t there for the horses. He was there to buy this painting from some guy. I remember, because he told me all about it afterwards at dinner.”
“A painting?” Ari suddenly broke in, and both Marnie and Luis glanced up at her in surprise. She was staring at Sasha with interest, though her voice was still soft and broken. “He was there to buy a painting?”
“Yeah.” Sasha nodded boredly. “Tom got really into some undiscovered artist while he was in Europe. He’s been buying up their pieces for years. And this guy — the one at the polo match — well, he’d picked up one of their paintings for pennies at some market in London. A painting Tom had been searching forforever. Tom bought it from him for five figures. It makes no sense to me, but I figure, at least he’s spending money on art and not on other women. All men have to have their hobbies, I guess, and art is decidedly less dangerous than flying planes. It was a really ugly painting though, when it was delivered. I didn’t care for it at all. It was of... I guess it was a little girl? A little girl with—”
“Broken earth beneath her feet?” Sebastian interrupted her, and Sasha gave him a surprised glance.
“Yes, that’s exactly it! How did you know?”
“Let’s just say I’ve seen it before,” Sebastian replied, and Marnie watched as a look passed between him and Luis. A look they finished by glancing at Ari.
“Tom has it hanging in his study in our New York apartment,” Sasha said, and there was pride in her voice now, Marnie noted. “There’re quite a few paintings by the same artist there. He hasn’t bought a new one for a while though. I guess the artist stopped painting or something like that.”
“Something like that,” Ari mused quietly.
“Well,” Marnie cut in, “perhaps we should talk about the wedding gown now? Luis, you must have some ideas—”
But Luis, annoyingly, was still staring curiously at Sasha. “You said you met again at this polo match?”
“Yes.” Sasha nodded. “Once he’d bought the painting, he came to talk with me. Not that the talking lasted long though. He...” Sasha inexplicably giggled “. . . well, we went back to his place and... I think you can imagine what happened next.”
Abruptly, Ari stood, her chair scratching the floor as she came to a stand. “Please excuse me,” she said coldly. “I’m just going to check on Reine.”
“Ari—” Marnie called after her, but she’d already gone, her arms wrapped around her stomach, her back stooped.
* * *
“What do you think then?” Tom asks, and Marnie scrunches up her nose.
“It’s an interesting choice, I suppose.”
Tom gives a half-smile. “You mean you hate it.”
“No, I don’t hate it... I just...” Marnie looks around once more at Tom’s new apartment. Everything is shiny and new. The carpets are cream, the wood fresh, and there is the lingering smell of fresh paint in the air. “I just don’t know if it’s you.”
Tom looks around too, taking it in, as if for the first time, the home he has chosen for himself.
“I don’t know if it’s me either,” he agrees, running a hand through his hair. “But I have to try something new. I need a change, Mom.”
“Yes,” Marnie agrees softly. “Yes. We all do.”
“Dad’s gone, and I can’t stay with you in that big pile upstate anymore,” Tom explains. “Just as I can’t live in that rented house over in Brooklyn anymore. I’m trying to be a grown-up now, Mom. I have a job—”
