“If Mom was already married to Randolph, she probably wouldn’t be feeling so worried about her own situation. She thinks he’ll call off the wedding if he finds out.”
“Why the hell would he do that?”
“I don’t know…I guess maybe to put some distance between our families.”
“Those boys aren’t going to listen to their dad. They’re grown men, and this isn’t a strict country where adult children let their parents dictate their lives. If they want you, they’re going to fight for you. The way they were with you at the exhibition…well, I can just tell that the feelings are strong.”
“You can tell?” I say, wanting to hear her reassurance to squash my own niggling doubts.
“Of course,” Maggie says. “Maybe you didn’t notice, but I caught some seriously adoring looks heading in your direction.”
“Are you sure those looks weren’t just hot gazes where they were thinking about sex?”
“I can tell the difference,” she says. “And what about those kisses? They were seriously tender.”
Flashes of perfect kisses invade my mind. Not just passionate kisses, but sweet and soft ones. “Yeah, they are really great.”
“So maybe you should be thinking about telling your mom to butt out. She doesn’t need to tell Randolph. He doesn’t have to find out until after their wedding. By then, you’ll all know if the relationship is something that you want to pursue in the long term, and you can fight through any objections you face.”
“You make everything sound so simple,” I say, shaking my head.
“Nah, everything is complicated as fuck. I’m just used to working through really tough issues and trying to keep my head on straight even though the world is burning around me.”
“Very poetic,” I say, smiling sadly. Real-life isn’t like the movies where everything ends up tied into a neat and happy ending. It’s gritty and harsh, and it hurts like a MF.
“You try managing a relationship with eleven men and then tell me how easy you find life. I mean, I love them all to death, and they are awesome partners, but we have our disagreements – the same as any couple –, and then they have disagreements with each other. I seem to spend half my life trying to mediate in sibling dramas.”
“Yeah, I can see how that will happen. So what you’re saying is that I should just ignore Mom and tell the boys we need to keep this a secret from their father, and just get on with my life.”
“Give yourself time to work out if this is a forever relationship,” she says. “And if it is, then you fight for it with absolutely everything you have.”
I’m just about to steer the conversation away from myself and ask Maggie how she is when another call lights up my phone. It’s Naomi.
“Maggie, can I call you back?” I ask, worried that there might be an issue with the studio.
“Sure, honey. Whenever.”
I hang up and immediately take the call from Naomi. “Hey, Nai. Is everything okay?”
“Have you seen the art and culture section?”
“What art and culture section?”
“There’s a feature online about the exhibition. They picked up the story because Mason’s profile is on the up. There’s some stuff in there about your ceramics.”
“Really? That’s awesome.”
Naomi clears her throat, and it strikes me that she’d never call me about something like this when we’re going to be at work together in less than thirty minutes. “It is awesome, isn’t it?”
“Awesome if you don’t mind your private life becoming public.”
“What do you mean?” For the second time in as many days, my chest feels hollow with anticipated concern.
“The article is less about the actual art. The title is ‘Why does art result in multiple-partner relationships?’”
“What?” I spin the steering wheel to the right and pull over at the side of the road.
“The article includes information about Mason and his family and also about you and the Carltons. I thought you’d want to know.”
“What? Oh my God.”
“Look. It’s just an art and culture piece. It’s not front-page news. Only people in our limited circles are going to read it.”
“That isn’t making this sound less awful, Naomi.”
“I know, sweetie. I’m trying to find a silver lining to your privacy being violated, but there really isn’t one.”
“I need to call Alden,” I say. “Can you send me a link to the article? I want to read it for myself before I speak to him.”
“Sure. I’ll do that now. And don’t worry, sweetie. It’ll blow over. New news today is old news tomorrow.”
“Maybe,” I say, closing my eyes and rubbing my face with my hands. “But in my experience, gossip sticks and changes minds. Can you imagine if I start losing orders because of this? Not everyone who appreciates art is liberal-minded.”
“Just read the article, and if you need anything, just let me know. You are still coming into the studio today?”