Wisdom

“If you use an angled brush, like this,” Fae was saying as she showed Ella how to create a specific textured look in the sand on the painting they were creating together, “you’ll get those darker clumps of sand to really pop off of the canvas.”
Ella watched carefully as Fae demonstrated the technique. When the mentor handed the brush over, the student did her best to mimic the same style. “Like this?” she asked.
“Yes, that’s good,” Fae said. The painting was of a house Fae used to live in when she was a little girl, transplanted onto the beach where Ella lived now. Since Fae was known for her beachscapes but couldn’t leave the retirement home where she was currently a resident, they’d relied on a photograph of the house and images of the beach both of them had locked in their minds to create the work of art in front of them. “Just a bit more pressure, and I think you’ll have it down perfectly.”
Ella continued to try the technique, Fae encouraging her effort. While it didn’t look exactly the same as the way Fae painted her sand, it did look nice, and she was happy with it. They continued to work on the painting together for the next hour or so. With Montage’s second show coming up, Ella wasn’t sure if it would be a painting she’d try to sell, or if it was just for practice, but it was starting to come together, and she thought she could sell anything attached to Fae’s name, even if she hadn’t done the entire painting herself.
“How is it going with… Henry?” Fae asked, the disapproving tone in her voice giving Ella pause.
She took a deep breath before she began to attempt to formulate a response. “Uh… it’s going okay, I guess. Considering.”
“Mmm hmmm.” Even Fae’s murmur rang of disdain for what Ella and Rome were doing. “Have you… kissed him yet?”
Raising an eyebrow, Ella contemplated whether or not Fae was actually asking about just kissing or if she was trying to imply something else. She decided to take the question at face value. “Yes. We’ve kissed.” In the last few weeks, Henry had taken her out several times. Even when she made up an excuse for why he couldn’t take her home afterward, such as another appointment, he’d still kissed her goodnight every time. A few mid-meal kisses had also been requested, which she’d managed to comply with. The last time he’d actually taken her to Zita’s apartment, though, he’d made it clear he wanted more, that he wasn’t about to take no for an answer. He’d gotten quite handsy, and she’d had to push him off, letting him know she didn’t think they were at that point in their relationship. It had only been a few weeks after all. He’d been hurt at the time, but when she was aloof for a few days after that, his need to be with her drove him back in her direction, and he’d given her the physical space she needed. It wouldn’t last, though. She knew Henry’s type. He’d try again as soon as he thought he could get away with it. And if she was going to carry out her plan, it would require her to find a way to let him think they were headed toward coupleship. It would require more of her than she was currently able to conceive of giving.
“I still think it’s a bad idea,” Fae said, shaking her head. “I think either you or Rome is going to be hurt in a way you can’t understand at the moment, and I’m not even convinced it will work. Is there no other way to get Rome out from under the contract?”
“Not that I can think of.” Ella’s voice rang of defiance. Of course, they’d been through all of this before. If she could come up with a different way to get the results she wanted, she would’ve tried it. She had been hopeful that he would attempt to get Rome’s parents to take the company back, but that had fallen apart within days of their initial discussion. Now, it seemed evident Henry didn’t want to spend so much money making atrocious movies for Rome to star in, but he was committed, and he had no idea how to get out from under it.
“Put a bit more of that creamy beige right there, next to the seagull’s shadow,” Fae instructed, studying the painting again. “You know, if you could convince him to sell you just a part of the company, to split it up into separate entities and allow you to purchase the portion that is required to make the movies with Rome, then you could get what you want without having to go to quite so much trouble to get it. If he’s under the impression that you are as disgusted with Rome as he is, and he is willing to sell the contract to you, under the guise that you’re purchasing part of his company, then he can spare himself the expense and the dragging of his good name through the mud. Then, you can make the movies or not, but either way, they won’t have to be horrible movies.”
Ella nodded along as she was speaking. “I have thought about that, but I think he needs to trust me a little more before he’s willing to make the sale. And I think it will help if the second Montage show is as big of a success as the first one. If he thinks he can gain some positive press because of a deal with me, he’ll be more likely to take the bait. I think you’re right, though. He probably won’t want to sell me the entire company since his superhero movies are bound to be successful. At any rate, I have no choice but to get a little closer to him.” She knew the words “a little” were a gross underestimate of what she would have to do.
Fae was quiet again for several minutes as they continued to work on the painting. Ella could feel that there was more to what she wanted to tell her than she was saying, so she tried to focus on her work, waiting for the other shoe to fall.
It took almost ten minutes before Fae couldn’t contain herself anymore. As she was observing Ella’s work on the roof of the house, she breathed, “I’m just worried about your relationship with Rome.”
Ella’s brush hovered above the roofline for a moment before she asked, “Why is that?”
“Well, marriage is a difficult proposition even under the best circumstances,” Fae replied with a shrug. She was sitting in a chair while Ella stood in front of the easel, but she scooted close to the edge, readjusting as she thought. “The two of you haven’t been married that long. Now, you’re introducing a huge complication into the mix. Rome can’t be too fond of Henry, I imagine. Likely, he disliked him before he even purchased the company. Now, he likely… hates him. But, you’re asking him to stand by and trust you while you purposely get closer to Henry, potentially even becoming physical with him. Will Rome be able to trust you enough to let you do what you feel you need to do? Will he be able to sit silently by and tolerate all of this?”
She was shaking her head before Fae was even done speaking, trying to keep her frustration in check. “Fae, it’s really not like that. Rome is an actor. He’s had to pretend to care about lots of women over the years that he really didn’t like at all. He understands what I’m doing. He coached me through it. I guarantee, he’s not jealous, and he certainly won’t get mad at me.”
Fae’s hunched shoulders went up and down. “I guess we’ll see. This isn’t the same as acting, Ella. You and I both know that. You might be pretending to be someone else, but at the end of the day, as far as Rome is concerned, you are his wife, and he’s not going to want to share you.”
Ella turned her attention back to the painting, not wanting to argue with Fae. The woman was dear to her. She had done so much to help Ella establish her business, become a better artist, and break out of her shell. She knew that Fae’s almost nine decades had given her plenty of wisdom to impart, but at the moment, she had to think she was just wrong. Otherwise, everything she was doing with Henry would be for naught, and she couldn’t allow herself to think about that, especially when she knew she’d have to ramp things up soon enough if she were ever going to get control of Rome’s contract.
With her eyes on the canvas in front of her, Ella tried to push Fae’s words to the back of her mind, but like the warning of the oracle, the message lingered in her mind. At this point, Ella was committed, though. She couldn’t easily untangle herself from Henry Caron even if she wanted to. All she could do was try her best to keep moving in the direction she hoped for and pray that Henry Caron was a patient--foolish--man.