CHAPTER36
In the hour before dawn, Kari dreamed of her father.
Long before the image became clear, she felt his presence. When he finally appeared, she faced a beast of shadows and fire. A raging behemoth, a power that had always terrified her. He shouted her name. The force was enough to shrink her down, strip away her adulthood, leave her quivering and frightened and a child.
Then the music began. A faint melody, one without true form. Played by some stringed instrument, but not really. The music would one day become a song played by a man holding a guitar. In her dream, though, it was not yet fixed in its true and final form. Just a thought, really. Just a hope.
The unformed melody remained both soft and gentle, almost lost to the noise made by the raging beast. Even so, she heard it, and she knew she was safe. The melody and the man sheltered her in this hard moment.
She found herself able to take a giant step away from her father’s wrath. Breathe herself back into full adult form. Still frightened, but safe. The word became part of the melody.Safe.
She woke up and instantly rose from her bed, padded across the overlarge bedroom, and entered the parlor. She knew Ian had left before she saw his note beside the coffee maker. The sunlit suite had a hollow, empty feel. She held the page with his words, and she caught a trace of his fragrance in the air. There in the silence she also caught the faintest hint of the half-formed melody.
She put on the coffee, used the bathroom, dressed, fed the kitten, and took her sketchbook from the suitcase. Then she went around opening all the sliding doors, reveling in the light and the humid heat, the sound of waves and laughter from down below. And the faint hint of Ian’s melody still echoing through her world.
* * *
Kari became so caught up in her work, she did not hear the door to the suite open. She was unaware of Ian’s presence until a pair of feet stepped into her field of vision. She jerked so hard she almost fell off her stool. Ian reached out a hand without taking his eyes off her sketches. Pages and pages scattered all over the parlor floor.
Ian made a slow circle. Another. Then, “Someone’s been busy.”
“How was your session?”
“Fine.” He waved it aside. “Kari, this is incredible.”
She followed his gaze. Standing up for the first time in hours required her to unkink her back. Sienna lay sprawled on the sunlit carpet between two sketches, cleaning her paws. From this higher perspective, it looked as though the kitten was stationed in the center of a paper whirlwind.
“When I get home, I’ll tape them to the walls, try to sort through what I’m doing,” Kari told him. “I think it’s parts of maybe four paintings . . .”
He was already moving. “Back in a second.”
The front door clicked shut. She was suddenly tempted to gather up everything. Sweep up the pages, hide them inside her suitcase. Do what she had always done whenever someone invaded her space.
Only Ian was not invading. And shewantedhim to see. Shelovedthe way he became so absorbed in her work. She shivered another time.
Then he was back. “I knew butlers were good for something.” He held out a tape dispenser.
The lady butler stood in the doorway, smiling. Ian kicked off his shoes and walked around the parlor, careful not to step on Kari’s sketches, taking down the suite’s paintings, setting them on the floor, backs out.
That done, he asked the butler, “We’re okay?”
“Oh, absolutely.” She was studying the sketches, which came close to filling the center carpet. “I’ve already told security you’re not making off with our goodies.”
“Thanks so much.”
She looked at Kari. “I’ve loved your work for years, Ms. Langham. It’s nice to know you’ve been inspired here.”
When the door shut, Ian said, “Tell me what goes where.”
Kari stood where she was, marveling, “I’ve never let anyone see my sketches before. Not even Graham and Rafi. I was always afraid that if they didn’t like what I’d done, I would never paint the canvas. At least that’s what I told myself.” She waved at Ian, the sketches, the closed front door. “Now . . .”
He waited with her through a long moment, the only sound Sienna’s constant purr. Then, “How can I help?”
They used both side walls.
Kari stood in the center of the room while Ian did most of the actual work. He lifted the sketches one at a time, waited while she studied the work and decided where the particular concept was going to fit. Sienna padded around the pages still littering the floor, purring and generally getting in the way.
Five paintings gradually took shape, all of them tied in one way or another to her dream. Or her family. Or who she was now becoming. Perhaps. It was all too fresh and uncertain to actually name. Declarations needed to wait until after, when the canvases were complete, and she was able to look back and view this incredible time in hindsight.
