CHAPTER22
When Kari entered the backyard, Ian was surrounded by ladies of all ages. Sienna had made herself small and had squirmed into the crook of his elbow. The kitten silently tolerated the attention. There was certainly no purring. But at least she didn’t hiss as one hand after another stroked her head. Ian stayed where he was, midway between the long trestle tables and the backyard grill, and watched as Kari was welcomed into the gathering. She then knelt beside a boy seated at the porch table, a sketch pad open in his lap. Kari spoke softly, then accepted the pad and leafed through the pages. The boy made himself as small as the kitten, watching Kari without turning her way. Ian found himself deeply moved by the care she showed, slowly examining his work, offering soft comments, which caused the silent boy to respond with a nod and a small smile.
As soon as she rose to her feet and looked his way, Ian realized something was genuinely wrong. While she spoke to the boy’s parents, Ian excused himself and walked over. The closer he came, the clearer he saw she exuded the same tension as she had upon his arrival at her house. He greeted the adults and the boy named Liam, gave them a few polite moments, then excused himself and drew Kari away. Not insisting. But close.
Kari followed him to the rear hedge. He asked, “What’s the matter?”
She gripped her arms across her middle. Just like before. Kari stared, unseeing, at the families. Silent.
“Kari, I don’t know how to say it better. I’m here for you.”
She breathed around the enormity of one word. “Justin.”
“Who?”
“My brother. He’s been talking to Rafi. And Graham. Both of them.”
“And they are . . . ?”
“My managers. They want to show a painting I gave Justin in Miami. But . . .”
“It’s complicated,” he offered gently. “Anything to do with family is a bundle of knots.”
She blinked. Drew the evening into focus. Looked at him. “How do you do that?”
He said, “Tell me how I can help.”
“Justin is coming to Miami. He wants an invitation to a gala.” Her voice grew tighter still. “That’s the first time I have heard of it. This gala . . . Rafi says the art fair is doing this gala forme. And now Justininsistson being there. It’s all socomplicated.”
The people standing by the grill glanced over, then away.
Ian said, “You thought they would show your work. You’d shake some hands, do some interviews, have your picture taken, come home.”
“I don’t even know what that means.Gala.”
“Yes you do. You just don’t know what it means for you.”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
The kitten started squirming, as if sensing Kari’s need for comfort. Ian handed her over, watched the two of them bond. “Better?”
“No. A little.” She stroked the kitten. “They’re displaying a collection of my paintings at the gala. Which is inside some ballroom. Not the exhibition hall.”
“That makes sense,” Ian said. “The hall is rented by vendors actually trying to sell new works.”
“That’s what Rafi said. After I freaked out.”
“I’m sure you looked lovely doing so.” He waited for a smile. When none came, he went on, “When is the gala?”
A few strokes of the kitten, then, “The exhibition’s opening night. Three days.”
“Which is the same night as my main concert. I assume you might still want to hear me do my classical gig?”
“Ha. A joke.” She nudged the purring head. “Double ha.”
“Listen to what I’m saying. So you and one of your managers come to the concert. The other one goes to the gala and explains why you’re showing up fashionably late. Because you’re the honored guest of the night’s star performer. Who will then accompany you to the gala.” He paused. “I assume that will be okay, me coming?”
“Look at the funny man.”
