Caffrey Flashback

Chapter 37 Beautiful Lie

Chapter 27: Beautiful Lie

Burke family cabin, Catskills. Thursday evening. March 4, 2004.

For the second evening in a row, Neal looked up from his plate to notice Elizabeth picking up the dishes. It occurred to him that he was going to have an uphill battle convincing Peter he was ready to go back to work next week, and constantly being lost in his own head wasn't going to help. He needed to start getting more engaged in the world around him. He slid off his chair with more energy than he'd shown since the snowball fight and said, "Here, let me help."

"Maybe you should take it easy," Peter said, standing up.

It took an effort not to sigh. "Peter, I want to be useful. Besides, everyone knows chicks like guys who know their way around the kitchen." Neal couldn't help smiling as Henry snorted in an attempt to suppress a laugh. He was quoting something Henry had said years ago, and that he had probably not expected to hear repeated in front of his mother.

Peter sat back down. "I'm married. I don't need advice on how to come on to women."

Neal picked up plates with the grace and speed he'd learned as a cat burglar. "I beg to differ. Men with hot wives need to stay in practice if they want to stay married."

Peter shook his head. "Listen, kid. My marriage is based on love. We don't have to do anything to prove it, or to make it last. Right, El?"

"Well..." El stepped over to kiss her husband. "My love isn't going to run out if you don't meet some quota of housework, but I do think Neal has a point. A little wooing goes a long way."

Peter stood up again and took a plate away from Neal. "Back off," he said, with a scowl on his face but a twinkle in his eyes. "She's mine."

El fanned herself. "My, it's getting hot in here."

Neal patted Peter on the arm. "Told you." He walked out into the spacious family room to study the painting he'd been working on earlier. At the center were warm, glowing colors, inspired by the happy morning he'd spent outdoors. Surrounding and over that center was a transparent layer of pale blue, inspired by the sleet and ice of the afternoon. There were cracks and sharp edges in that layer, signifying the fragility of this morning's experience. Such perfect happiness couldn't last long.

"I don't like it," said Henry. He didn't know much about art, but he had a knack for picking up on the emotion being conveyed in a piece. Especially when Neal was the artist.

"I didn't think you would," Neal responded. "It wasn't meant to make you happy. It's expressing loss."

"You're an artist?" Joe asked, walking over from the kitchen. "I thought you worked for Peter."

Neal shrugged. "This..." He gestured toward the painting. "This is a hobby."

"That's pretty advanced stuff for a hobby," Joe said.

Noelle joined them. "Are you an artist, Joe?"

"No, I'm an architect. I can draw well enough to provide renderings to help clients envision what I propose to build. You learn a few things about perspective and colors in my job, and I've worked on a few art galleries over the years, picked up some things about how to display art. There's a niche in design for art museums, galleries and artists' lofts and studios. It wasn't something I could focus on full time, since I was a single parent and most of those jobs required extensive travel. Now that my youngest is in college, I'm free to travel more and that gives me the opportunity to specialize. I've wrapped up a project in D.C., and I'm looking at some opportunities in Boston and Baltimore, next."

"We live in Baltimore," Henry said. "It's a great place."

Noelle nodded. "Since learning about Neal's talents a few weeks ago, I've wanted to get more involved in the arts community. I'd love to hear about your projects."