had intended to make some excuse to drop by Molly's house again, but three weeks had gone by in a flash. Although the painting he had put in the gallery had sold almost at once, it didn't mean that he could rest on the laurels. He had taken stock of the three sketches that he had started and decided to work on one that showed a bit of the scenery below the cabin up in the hills. He could do the rough sketching at the house in town, but for the actual painting, he needed to go to the cabin. There were less interruptions there and he had built especially for the light.
The cabin was spacious and comfortable, and the side facing down the mountain was almost completely glass. He had found a bench of land part way up with a view of a meadow below through the trees. In the summer, you couldn't actually see the meadow for the leaves, but in the other seasons there was a good view of the deer that came out to graze there. A small brook ran across the corner of the space in front of the cabin, and he had widened it in a couple of places so he could take advantage of a bit of fishing . It wasn't really a mountain in the strict sense, but higher than a hill and he had been lucky to find the property, by chance, in a hunting magazine when he had been looking for photos of wildlife. It had been advertised as a possible site for a hunting camp and as soon as Dave had seen it, he knew that it would be perfect for a future home. It had taken him several years to re-build the original cabin, and he had added to it since, always being careful not to make the new construction look out of place. There were almost a thousand acres of land and that was more than enough for a good ramble, even with a horse, and had given him material for many of his paintings. One day he planned to move there permanently, but for now he would have to keep the house in town as well.
He wondered what Molly would think of the place he loved so much. Margret had hated it there, and had rarely come up. She was purely a city girl and begrudged him the time he spent there with his painting. She could never understand why he couldn't do the painting at their townhouse and they had constantly argued over the money he had spent on the property . It wasn't as though they were poor by any means. His paintings sold for way more than he had ever dreamed possible and Margret had a good job as manager in an office downtown. When Dave started spending more and more time at the cabin, they both realized that the marriage was over and after a rather untidy divorce, wherein he had signed over the townhouse in exchange for keeping the cabin, she had left her job, sold the townhouse, and moved. It was only some time later that Dave had learned that she had taken her boss with her, and he wondered, briefly, how long that had been going on, and then decided he didn't really care.
It had taken him three weeks to finish this one and he called Joey to let him know that he would be bringing it in. "Hey man......glad to hear it." Joey said. "Don't suppose you have more than one, do you? I've got a waiting list a mile long. You gotta get a phone up there at that cabin."
Dave didn't think so. He liked the peace and quiet. The drive back to town was about an hour. Not long enough to be a nuisance, but long enough to keep most people from just dropping in at the cabin. He was pretty careful who he gave directions to in any case, and his friends knew that when he was there he generally didn't like to be disturbed. Joey gave him all the privacy he needed, for he knew that Dave would be painting and that the picture would be coming to the gallery sooner if he wasn't disturbed. While he might have three or four sketches on the go at once, he only liked to develop one painting at a time. Sketching was the rough work and a way to capture whatever popped into his mind, but the actual painting took time and patience and he preferred to be able to concentrate on one palet of colors at a time.
At the gallery, Dave made sure the painting was hung in just the right place , and stayed for a bit of a visit with Joey. As he was retuning to the car , he passed a flower shop and happened to see a display of plants that caught his eye. An array of miniature cyclamen was arranged in a rainbow arch, and as he entered the shop, the smell of Lily-of-the-Valley caught his attention. The little flowers, in so many colors reminded him of Molly and he hovered over the table trying to decide which one she would like best. He soon discovered that only the white ones with the dark red centers had a scent, and that tipped the scales. He did like the solid dark red ones though, and bought a pot of each.
had been so busy in the last three weeks that she had hardly had time to think about Dave's visit. Spring was the busy time at the Horticultural club, with so many people calling for information on gardening and plants. She went in several times a week to help field the calls, and with her own garden needing care, as well as getting the seedlings in the greenhouse started, she hardly had time to think. Then, there was her part time job to take care of. Thank goodness she could bend her hours there around the Hort club demands and home. The lady who owned little craft shop she worked at didn't mind when she came in as long as she put in her allotted hours. Poor Toby was feeling a little slighted and let her know by giving her ankle a swat as she came in with the groceries.
Molly hadn't even had time to do much on her latest stitching project, and that annoyed her. After putting some food down for Toby, and grabbing a bite for herself, she got out her stand and had a look to see where she had left off. This was a little different than the ones she usually did. She had seen the pattern in a book and thought it looked interesting. The whole thing was done in French knots instead of cross stitch and that gave the picture more dimension. It took longer too, but it was worth the trouble. The picture was of a garden seen through a window, and after the flower part was done, the window was stitched on a piece of very fine tule and placed over the background with the window panes cut out.
She glanced up at the ones on the walls and thought it would make a nice contrast. She had done a few from pictures of her garden and she was particularly fond of those. Instead of doing the usual two over two, she had done one over one, and had found that she needed a magnifying glass for the whole thing. When complete, they looked more like a painting than a cross stitch and the effort had been well worth the time it had taken. The ones with the beads as accents were pretty too and they glittered in the sun coming through the windows. Cross stitch was her first passion, and she had been glad to find a computer program that allowed her to design her own charts using photos or her own drawings.
She thought, as she carefully placed each tiny knot, how lovely it was to be able to sit in her own home and do something that gave her pleasure without having to worry about being told that it was a waste of time. Ted had never been able to understand that something could be done for the pleasure of doing and creating. If it didn't have a monetary value attached to it, he felt that it was useless, and the fact that she gave away many of her works drove him crazy. Especially after they had been to a craft day and he had seen the prices marked on some of the pictures there. Molly knew that the work and time involved in each piece warranted the price, but you could only sell something if there was a buyer and the people she knew just didn't have that kind of money.
She suddenly realized that there was someone knocking on the door and wondered how long they had been there. Maybe she should just pretend she wasn't home and they would go away. The knocking came again and she sighed and took time to stick the needle into the side of the cloth so she wouldn't loose it. Toby was sitting in front of the door, and as she opened it, he scooted out. A man was walking down the path toward the front gate and she was about to close the door when she realized that it was Dave, and called out to him. He turned, and came back and she saw that his arms were full of potted plants. Toby was doing the cat thing around his feet and Molly had to laugh as Dave did some fancy footwork to keep from treading on him. She ran out and scooped the big cat up before an accident could happen.
"Toby, you big goof. You're going to get trod on in a moment and then you'll be all in a huff. Hi Dave. Those are lovely things. I didn't realize you had a garden too."
was disappointed when no one answered his knock. He thought he could hear Toby meowing on the other side of the door and wondered where Molly was. It had been silly to come by without calling and then realized that he didn't have her phone number anyway. Should he just leave the pots on the doorstep, and hope that she would see them, or take them away and have an excuse to come by again. Deciding on the second option, he was half way down the walk when he heard the door open behind him and Molly call his name.
He turned and came back to the door and narrowly missed stepping on Toby who came running to meet him. Molly ran out and picked the cat up.Dave laughed as he managed to get his armfull of pots under control again.
"No.....I don't have a garden of my own. I saw these and thought you might like them. They were all in a group in the shop and looked so pretty. Did you know that only the white ones have a scent?"
"Yes.......it's a lot like Lily-of-the-Valley isn't it. You really shouldn't have you know, but I do love flowers and thanks very much. I was just about to put on the kettle. Would you like to join me for a cup?"
Dave followed her into the house and deposited the pots on the kitchen counter. He was always interested in how other people decorated their homes. It told him a lot about them. Some people liked to be surrounded by all sorts of things, while others liked space without clutter. The things that were important to some were junk to others. Molly's kitchen looked comfortable with a small table and padded chairs in a cozy corner, leaving the rest of the room open. There was a large arch that opened into another room, and while Molly was fixing the cups of tea, he took a quick peek in. With astonishment he saw that the walls of the next room were covered with what he at first thought were paintings of gardens and flowers and ladies in jeweled dresses, and without thinking that he might be intruding he went through for a closer look.
The pictures turned out to be very fine needle work that certainly looked like paintings from a distance. Two smaller pictures caught his eye and he was startled to find himself looking at two of his own early paintings. One was a small grouping of birch trees that he had painted his first season at the cabin, and the other was a single leaf floating on a shallow part of the brook, that he had photographed and then used as the base for an oil painting. A piece of needlework beside the picture of the birches looked as though it had been modeled after his painting, but as he looked again, thinking it looked familiar, he realized that it was the tree in Molly's garden.
A small noise behind him brought his attention back and he turned to find Molly holding out a mug of tea. "I'm terribly sorry." he said, embarrassed that he had intruded."I didn't mean to just come right in. How rude of me. But these are really lovely. It must have taken you years to do all these." He wondered if she knew that he had painted the two small oils and decided not to say anything unless she mentioned it first.
was a little surprised to find Dave taking such a close look at her stitchings, and wondered if she should be annoyed. When he complimented her, however, she had to smile. Not many of her friends understood the time that went into a picture, so she was amazed that a man would know about something like that.
"They did, but I love to do this, so it's no problem, and besides, it keeps me out of trouble." She handed Dave his mug and indicated a chair near a small table where she had set a plate of cookies. "Do you recognize the birches from the garden? I had a photo of them and after I found that small oil in a gift shop, thought I might try one of my own in cross stitch. I have a program on the computer that takes a picture and makes a chart for the stitching. It's kind of nice to be able to do something original rather than a picture that everyone else that stitches might do as well. The beaded ones are mostly from bought patterns, though."
For a little while they talked about the way colors went together and the fact that in nature colors that should have clashed didn't. Molly wondered what it was that he did that made him so understanding.
"I'm sorry Dave.......we seem to be talking a lot about the things that interest me. What is it that you do? "
"Oh .... I do a bit of painting."he replied. "Nothing too spectacular. Do you ever think about selling your work?"
"No." And Molly thought"I hope he doesn't start in about how much money I could make". Instead she said...." I give some of them away to friends and family. If I sold them it would become a job instead of a pleasure."
She noticed Dave look over at her with an inquiring look and wondered if she had sounded as defensive as she felt. "I'm sorry.......it's just that my "ex" was always on my case about putting them up for sale. I know the sort of money I could ask for them, but as I tried to explain to him, they are only worth the price someone is willing to pay. The people I know couldn't afford to buy them and I would much rather give them as gifts."
She was glad that Dave seemed to take the hint that it was a subject better left alone and they went on to other topics that were a little safer. She told him about the Hort Club and some of the people she met there, and found that he agreed that people could be strange sometimes. After a little while, she asked if he would like another cup of tea, and was rather glad when he said no and that he really should be going. She thanked him again for the pots of cyclamen and showed him where she would put them, and went with him to the door.
After he had gone down the walk, accompanied by Toby, who then ran back to her, she wondered if she had been too off putting about selling her pictures. Well......she was not about to let someone else get on her case about that again. Ted had gone on about it more than enough, and she wasn't about to change her mind. Besides......selling her pictures meant that she would have to deal with the public and she was no good at that at all. Angela mentioned it from time to time, but wasn't pushy about the subject and that was a good thing. She tidied away the tea things and decided to do a little more on the current picture before starting her dinner.
thought about the conversation about selling the pictures for a time. Molly had seemed quite defensive about it and he wondered what sort of pressure her ex-husband had put on her. He understood perfectly what she was trying to say and hoped he had not put her off. He was beginning to realize that he wanted to see more of her and didn't want any sort of misunderstanding to come between them. After all......if she wanted to sell her things, or not, it was her decision and had nothing at all to do with him.
On Tuesday, he happened to overhear two conversations that made up his mind to ask Molly out for a proper date. The first occurred when he dropped into the gallery to check on his last painting. He had paused close to the office to admire a picture by a new artist, when he heard his name being spoken.
"So you think Dave has a new lady friend? I wonder why he's never mentioned her to us." That was Joey. Someone replied and he recognized Jessica's voice. She was Joey's receptionist and a very nice person. He liked her a lot, though she was another city girl, like Margret had been. Dave suspected that she was a little more than a mere receptionist, but since neither of them had said anything to him, he didn't like to ask. He wondered if she and Joey would ever make it more permanent for they had worlds of things in common and would make a great couple. And now here they were discussing his personal life.
"What makes you think there's someone new in his life?"
"I don't know exactly. He just seems a little more cheerful or something lately. Not as serious maybe."
"Perhaps he's just glad spring is here and he can get back up to the cabin again. He always paints better in the summer and he loves that place. That's a good thing. I have an awful lot of people asking about his stuff all winter and they are usually disappointed when I have to tell them to wait for the summer."
"Well..... maybe it's just women's intuition or something, but I think he's met someone." Jessica's voice sounded very near the door suddenly and he had no time to move away before she came out. "Oh.....we were just discussing you." she laughed....not in the least embarrassed.
"So I heard. Well I can set your minds at ease in any case. Yes, I have met someone but I'm not about to tell you anything just yet. You'll just have to be patient for awhile. I haven't even asked her out on a date yet, nor do I know if she'll even accept."
On hearing Dave's voice, Joey had come out to join them. "So you were right Jess." He laughed. "I might have known you'd pick up on something like that. Where did you meet her Dave? You've never mentioned a word."
Dave laughed in turn. "When there's anything to tell you you'll be the first to know. Until then don't bother even asking." They both knew him well enough to let the subject drop and went on to discuss the delivery date for the newest project. Joey assured him that he had a buyer already, regardless of the subject. He had never seen this sort of thing before. It didn't seem to matter what Dave painted......the picture was gone almost as soon as it was hung. There was a waiting list of prospective buyers and Joey wanted to talk to him about doing some prints of his work. It had a certain appeal if one was only in it for the money, but Dave knew that he would not go that route. As long as there was a list of people waiting for his paintings, he was happy to leave things the way they were.
The next conversation came about as he was walking slowly down Molly's back lane. The day was lovely and warm and he was sure that he would find her out in her gardens. As he approached the little gate, he heard voices coming from the other side of the fence.
"So where did you meet this guy anyway?" someone asked. He didn't recognize the voice, but then he hadn't met any of Molly's friends.
"He helped me out at the club that night you guys insisted that I join you. I got scared when that man grabbed my arm and insisted I dance with him and when I left, we shared a cab home."
"Do you mean you just got into a cab with a total stranger? Gees......Molly......what were you thinking?"
"Well, to be honest I wasn't thinking too much at the time. He's very nice, you know, and he's been by a couple of times since. " Molly sounded a little defensive and Dave knew he should go away, but couldn't help wanting to stay a little longer.
"So what's his name and what does he do for a living then?"
"His name is Dave and I think he paints a bit."
".....and his last name? "
"....... do you know I don't think he has ever mentioned that. I'm not sure he even knows my last name if you must know."
"He's probably married then. You know Molly.......you really are dense sometimes. What on earth do you talk about?"
"Oh Angela......I don't know.......just stuff. He's interested in the things I do and he likes my pictures. We just talk about different things ....... you know ...... gardening and stuff."
"So what's he look like? "
He heard Molly give a little laugh. "Actually you'd approve, Angela. He's drop dead gorgeous and easy to talk to and I'm sure he isn't the least bit interested in someone like me. I'm sure he is just being kind to someone he helped out once."
"What you're saying is that he knows where you live and all kinds of things about you and you don't even know his last name or anything at all about him."
Dave heard Molly give a little huff and knew it was time to beat a retreat. He hurried quietly to the end of the lane and turning about, came back, but this time he whistled as he walked along. When he got to the gate again, he knocked and looked over into the garden. He found Molly on hands and knees digging about in the earth and another girl, whom he recognized as one of the friends from the club, standing beside her. He pushed the gate open and went in as Molly scrambled to her feet.
He gave Molly a smile in greeting and without waiting for her to say anything, held out his hand to Angela. "Hi.....I'm Dave Addison. You're the first of Molly's friends that I've met. Hasn't she done a lovely job with the spring flowers? It looks great, Molly. I see you've got the cyclamen outside."
was getting fed up with Angela's questions and the feeling of having to defend herself. She knew that everything Angela was saying was true and felt silly. She always forgot to ask Dave's last name until after he had gone, but it was such a novelty to find someone interested in the same things as she was, that she had not thought of all the information that she was giving to a complete stranger. The trouble was, he didn't feel like a stranger. He felt like a friend.......like someone she wanted to have around. Someone she felt comfortable with and that didn't happen very often......especially with men.
She heard someone whistling, coming down the lane, and the next thing she knew, there he was, introducing himself to Angela and giving her time to get herself sorted. So his last name was Addison. It sounded faintly familiar and she wondered where she had heard it before. Angela was staring at him and fumbling for words. Not like her at all.
"Are you D Addison the artist? The one who has paintings hanging in the Gallery on Wilson Street?"
"As a matter of fact.......yes." he looked over at Molly and winked. So that's where she had heard the name. And he hadn't even said a word about the two little ones on her own wall. She didn't know whether to be embarrassed or not.
"Gees Molly......" Angela was at a loss for words and Molly burst into laughter. She had never seen her friend this way before. Angela was the most self assured person Molly knew and was always in control of any situation. Molly had always been a little in awe of Angela's ease with people, and had felt like a country bumpkin a few times in her presence. Oh......she was kind enough and had always sort of looked out for Molly, but got a little impatient sometimes with Molly's idea of "a night on the town" being a walk in the park and tea in a thermos beside the lake. She realized that Dave was saying something to her and that she hadn't heard a word.
"Sorry Dave......Angela, I don't mean to laugh, but I've never seen you at a loss for words."
"Actually.....I came by to see if you'd like to join me for dinner on Friday evening, Molly. If you're busy, it's OK though and we can make it another night."
"Thankyou Dave. That sounds really nice. I don't have anything planned." Even if she had, she knew that it would have been cancelled at the first opportunity. She couldn't believe he was asking her on a real date and right in front of the one person she knew who would be impressed. She felt wonderful. Imagine.....someone important was asking for a date. Ok......so she hadn't known that he was "somebody". It was probably a good thing too, since she would have felt totally out of her depth had she known from the start who he was.
"That's great, then. I'll be by at seven to pick you up. It's not fancy or anything......just a nice little place I like to eat. I hope you like Mexican food?"
"Oh.....yes.....that would be lovely."
"Ok then........I'll be off and leave you ladies to your gardening." and with that he was out the gate and down the lane before she quite knew what to do. The next little bit was a blur. She knew that Angela was asking her all sorts of questions, but she couldn't quite concentrate, and after a bit she was left alone in the garden. Angela went off shaking her head and wondering out loud how come it was Molly who had the date and not herself.
Molly puttered about for a bit longer but couldn't keep her mind on the garden. What was she going to wear on Friday? That was only three days away. Should she buy something new? No.......don't be silly.....she had all sorts of nice things to wear. It was only a dinner at a Mexican restaurant ..... not a banquet. She had three days to decide and three days to worry. That was silly too.......just knowing someone's last name didn't mean that they were any different than they had been the day before. Just cause she now knew that he was a well known artist didn't make him a different person than the one she had felt comfortable with last week. If anything it gave her something else to talk about. She would ask him why he hadn't mentioned the two little paintings of his that she had on the wall. He must have seen them, surely. It explained why he knew so much about the way colors went together and the time involved in doing a cross stitch pattern. She would find out all about him, this time, instead of letting him ask all sorts of questions about the things she liked. Instead of worrying about the dinner, she would think about all the things she wanted to know about him and the things he liked. Then they would be even.
