The Artist's Inheritance

Chapter Two (part two)

By the end of the month, Trevor began having trouble sleeping once again. Caitlin tried to convince him to go back to his doctor, but he would have none of it. Besides, the drugs and exercise hadn't helped calm him, as far as Caitlin could tell. His nightmares had become more frequent, and it seemed more important to him to be able to awaken from them, escape them, when he needed, than to have a full night's rest. She couldn't argue with him. If sleep disturbed him, what other choice did he have?

The unfortunate downside to all this was the strain it put on their daily life. His work for Wilkins and Brandt suffered, and Caitlin found herself in more arguments with him than she liked over his growing collection of sculpted figurines. Within the last few weeks he'd sculpted over a dozen figurines, all different sizes, but repeatedly, they remained of one thing:

That ridiculous, strange chair. Odd that. He usually sculpted all manner of designs.

She didn't know what she was going to do about this obsession, but it was obvious something must be done.

One day in early August, he handed her a set of legal documents.

"What are these?" she asked, scrutinizing Trevor more than the papers. "Are you asking me for a divorce?"

Judging by his wide eyes, her question caught him by surprise. "No, honey. Never." He ran a hand down the length of her hair. "Something better than that: I'm thinking about going into business for myself."

Astonishment tightened her chest. With their less than illustrious employment, she couldn't fathom how he might have come to this decision. They had a modest savings, but to start his own business? Impossible! They still had insurance and mortgage to pay on the house, outrageous bills they could barely afford as it was. On the other hand, he'd never planned on working in someone else's gallery for the rest of his life. She wished he'd made this decision before they took Amelia's offer and bought the house. How could he consider opening his own gallery now?

Maybe they could swing it on a loan from the National Endowment for the Arts, or a local version thereof. The government gave loans for the arts, didn't they?

He laughed. "Not my own gallery, no. I've decided to go into antiques."

This was even worse. Caitlin blinked, taking a deep breath, she asked him for more details and listened in a good impression of interest while Trevor explained his idea.

"Are you crazy? How the hell can we afford it?"

Trevor merely shrugged. "I'm looking into it."

"Looking?" Caitlin clenched a fist around the edge of the desk, studying the computer screen. "What have you found?"

He sighed and sat back. "Not much. But I have thought of the perfect name for the shop."

"What?"

"Cait's Treasures, or Cait's Curiosities." He nuzzled her cheek. "No, I think Curiosities would be best."

She pinched him. "Don't you dare!"

"No, I like it." He kissed her. "I think I'll need new business cards."

"You'll need funding first." She waved a hand. "No sense in adding an extra expense we can't afford."

"We'll be able to." He wound an arm around her waist. "You worry too much. It'll work out, you'll see. I think maybe I could sell some of Gordon's photos."

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, then twenty. "Just don't jump in before you know what you're getting into."

"It'll be fine," he said and turned back to the computer. "I promise."