First Class Menu (2 page)

Three months later, the Lathems were gathered together for
their weekly Sunday dinner. As Maureen and Janie, David’s mother and his
sister-in-law, carried dessert to the dining room, the rest of the family was
being entertained by Isabelle, David’s one year old niece. She had recently
begun walking and she was having a grand old time trying to run around the
table.

As Janie set the massive cheesecake down, Maureen took the
large knife in her hand and began slicing the decadent dessert for all to
partake. Paul looked at Nic and nodded.

“We have an announcement,” he began.

All eyes whipped to Paul and his wife and Mark, David’s
older brother, chuckled.

“Okay,” said Mark. “What’s the announcement? Although most
of us have already guessed in the last three seconds.”

Nic grinned and looked at Paul. “We’re going to have a
baby,” she exclaimed.

The room erupted into cheers and clapping and all the
brothers hugged Nic and told Paul how manly he was. Janie and Katy squealed
with delight and Maureen had to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“Another grandbaby,” she cried. “Could I be any happier?”

David was thrilled for his little brother. Paul and Nic
really were adorable together. For a big tough Navy Seal, he had turned into
the most doting husband David had ever seen. Well, next to Matt of course.

Dessert was finally passed around the table and David sunk
his teeth into the creamy cheesecake, closing his eyes and enjoying every
morsel. He was going to have to ask his mom for the leftovers.

*****

As David took the elevator up to his apartment, he held the
Tupperware containers that held the leftovers from Sunday dinner. His brother
Tim had laughed at him for asking for them, although his mother would’ve given
the food to him without any prompting.

“You’ve lost weight,” she’d noticed earlier in the day.
“You’ve got to eat David,” she’d pleaded.

He unlocked his door and entered into his apartment,
Freckles immediately seeking his undivided attention. David put the Tupperware
in the fridge and picked up his cat. She purred loudly as she snuggled into his
chest.

The answering machine held one message. It was from Audrey,
the owner of the art gallery where he worked. She would meet him in the morning
to go over plans for expanding into the newly purchased space adjacent to the
gallery. David would now have twice the space to fill with local art, a project
he was anxious to begin. He already had some local artists in mind he’d like to
showcase and the additional square footage would give him an opportunity to
show work that may have been skipped otherwise.

David opened a can of Fancy Feast for Freckles and left her
to her gourmet dinner. He changed out of his suit and tie and settled in the
spare bedroom, his mini art studio. The image of Paul and Nic from dinner was
itching to be put on paper, so he pulled out a clean sheet and his charcoal and
began drawing their faces, hoping to capture the joy in their expressions as
they announced her pregnancy to the family.

This was the way it always was. There would be an image
seared into his brain until he could get it out using one of his favored
mediums. He had started with pencil and then moved to charcoal. Sometimes he
painted with oils, but charcoal was his favorite. He could draw for hours and
hours and the time passed like minutes.

It wasn’t until he could barely see what he was doing that
he realized it was after seven o’clock. The sun was setting and his light had
gone for the day. That was the reason he had selected this room as his studio.
It was actually the master bedroom, but the light was so perfect he crammed his
bed into the smaller room. He only slept in there, but in his studio he
created. He wiped his hands on a towel and looked at his creation. He believed
he had captured the feel of the moment. He was pleased with his work and
decided to take it to a frame shop he worked with extensively because of the
gallery. He would give it to Paul and Nic. They should have it. He wanted them
to have it.

*****

“I cannot wait to see what you fill it with,” exclaimed
Audrey Atherton as she all but danced around the newly cleared building.

The Atherton Gallery had been on West 24
^th
Street
forever. The Atherton family were well known and well respected in the art
world as having collected some of the finest pieces of art for their private
collection. The Gallery had been opened in the early twentieth century and had
been instrumental in launching the careers of many local artists. David had
been thrilled with the opportunity of continuing that tradition when he was
hired as curator over three years ago. He and Audrey had known each other since
their days at NYU. She had loved art but didn’t have the skill to become an
artist. She had sat and watched David draw for hours on weekends. They’d had a
small
thing
, but it was over as quickly as it had started. They were
better as friends and had remained so for the last seventeen years. When she
had married into the Atherton family four years ago, one of the first ideas
she’d had was to bring David in as curator for the gallery. It had taken her a
little while to convince her father-in-law, as David had no experience in that
capacity. But she had been persistent and had finally won the battle and her
father-in-law was quickly singing his praises after David had discovered two
artists that had made the gallery a lot of money in his first six months as
curator. His keen eye and intuition had continued to serve him well. Audrey was
only too willing to give him control of filling the additional ten thousand
square feet.

David wandered around the new space; a blank canvas ready to
be created. “I think we should keep the ceilings high and drop the lights,
giving it a more contemporary feel.”

“That’s very different than the existing gallery though,”
Audrey questioned.

“Exactly!” grinned David. “We can keep the more traditional
art in the existing gallery and use this side for the modern, more eclectic
pieces.”

“So two completely different galleries under one roof?”

“Yes! And we can feature more artists; known and unknown,
and really fill this place with life. Even the furniture should be art!”

Audrey couldn’t help but feel the excitement radiating from
David.

“Let me sketch it out for you,” he offered.

“That’d be great. Then we can meet with the interior
designer and get moving on this.”

“And I will start scouring the streets looking for our next
big discovery.”

*****

That evening David sat in his apartment, Freckles on his
lap, eating his leftovers from Sunday dinner. His mom had packed up two full
meals for him and he was very grateful.

After watching Jeopardy, a standard nightly ritual, David
walked to his desk in the corner of the room to retrieve his laptop. As he
lifted it from the desk, several papers fell to the floor. Bending down to pick
them up, he found the power bill he’d been looking for.

“Better pay that now,” he muttered.

As he collected the other papers, he picked up a business
card.
Lindsey Dardin, Executive Chef.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “I remember her.”

He sat back on the sofa, power bill and wallet in hand, and
pushed Freckles away as she tried to sit on the keyboard of his laptop. He
quickly paid his bill and then opened Google and typed in Lindsey’s name.

She was in fact an Executive Chef. David smiled to himself
wondering why he had googled her.
It’s not like she would have lied.
Then he searched for the community college she’d told him about and found the
list of continuing education classes. Sure enough there were several cooking
classes listed, ranging from ‘Introduction to Cooking’ to ‘Advanced’. The fees
were nominal and there were many schedules to choose from.

David read through all the class descriptions and decided
that perhaps he could start with a course for beginners.

“It couldn’t hurt,” he chuckled. “If I just learn how to make
toast I will be ahead of the game,” he told Freckles. She just meowed at him.

*****

Audrey Atherton was thrilled with the progress of the
gallery. The contractor had constructed moveable walls so that they could
reconfigure the layout with each new exhibit or show. It had a loft feel with
exposed brick, high ceilings, drop down lighting and a stained concrete floor.
It would have felt cold and uninviting, but David and the interior decorator
had chosen comfortable furniture and throw rugs throughout the space that
warmed it up, giving it a comfortable modern vibe.

After David had wandered through the Metropolitan Museum of
Art a couple of weeks ago, a visit he made whenever he could, he had met a
young woman outside selling her art to anyone she could. David had struck up a
conversation with her and was truly interested in her work. She painted with
oils, not at all unique, but her images were soulful, interesting and she
obviously had an amazing talent. He had given her his card and she had given
him her name and phone number. Now, as David stood looking at the bare brick
walls, he envisioned her art hanging before him.

Lou, as she called herself, was self-taught. Her nose and
lip held gold rings and both ears had many holes poked through them. Her hair
was short and blue and David had thought she looked like a jewelry-clad smurf.
But oh how she was talented. Most of her pieces were of people, faces mainly.
She captured such emotion; her paintings were a window to the soul. He would
bet she wasn’t any older than about twenty one or twenty-two, but she painted
with a deep maturity he had rarely seen. Her work would be perfect for the
unveiling of the new gallery.

“What are you staring at?” Audrey asked him.

“I am picturing what should be hanging on this wall.”

“And do you know what it is?”

David nodded and grinned. “I believe I do.”

*****

Later in the morning, David’s mother, Maureen, arrived at
the gallery with lunch for her son. She brought him food regularly, not because
he was too poor to buy his own lunch, or too inept, but to ease her guilt.

“I did you boys a great disservice,” she’d said on many an
occasion. “I took care of you and waited on you hand and foot, thinking I was
being the best mother I could be. And now look at some of you! You can’t sew on
a button or make yourself a sandwich! Matthew would throw out a shirt before he
would replace a button, and my David? He’s going to starve to death. I just
know it!”

“Hi Mom,” David smiled. He kissed his mother’s cheek and
took the brown bag she offered.

“I’m on my way to see Janie and the children,” she said. “So
I thought I’d bring you lunch.”

“You know you’re just enabling him,” Audrey chuckled as she
came to say hello.

“Good morning Audrey. You look lovely, dear. How are you?”

“Fine, thank you,” Audrey smiled.

“How’s the renovation coming along?” Maureen asked.

“Brilliantly!” Audrey beamed. “David’s ideas were spot on
and I’m anxiously awaiting the opening in a few weeks.”

“Which artist are you showcasing?” Maureen was curious.

“I’m in the middle of securing that,” David replied. “I hope
to have her locked in by the end of the week.”

“Anyone I know?” Maureen asked.

“Nope.”

“Oooh, I’m intrigued,” his mother said.

“Me too,” grinned Audrey. “But I completely trust you David.
You haven’t let us down yet.”

*****

David had left Lou several messages on her phone but she
hadn’t returned any of his calls, so after he’d closed up the gallery one
evening he headed uptown to see if she was in her usual spot in front of the
museum. As the days got longer, the artists stayed later, giving them more
opportunity to try and make a meager living. He only had an hour or so ‘til
sunset so he needed to find her quickly.

She wasn’t where he had found her before. David wandered
around and asked a few of the other vendors if they’d seen her. He finally
found a man who knew her.

“Lou’s dad got really sick and I haven’t seen her since he
went to the hospital a few days ago,” he told David.

“Which hospital?”

“Metropolitan.”

“Thanks,” David said and went to hail a cab.

As he walked into the hospital a few minutes later, David
wondered what he was doing. This girl’s dad was ill and he was tracking her all
over the city to talk to her about a gallery opening?

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked.

“Um…yes…I’m looking for a Mr. Borsten?”

The woman behind the desk typed something into the computer
and said he was in room 4352. David made his way to the elevator and again
questioned what he was doing, but he pushed the button and the doors closed and
he was quickly on the fourth floor looking for the room that hopefully held Lou
and her father.

He knocked on the closed door and a female voice responded,
telling him to come in. He hesitantly opened the door to see blue hair and
relief washed over him.

Lou turned around and her expression told him just how
surprised she was to see him.

“What are you doing here?”

David attempted a smile and took a couple of steps into the
room to see an old man lying in the bed, his eyes closed.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but I’ve been calling you and then I
went to find you and they said you were here.”

Lou turned back to her father. “I’ve been…busy,” she
whispered.

“Is there something I can do?” David asked.

Lou shook her head. “The diabetes has not been kind. He’s
just lost his right leg.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” David replied, not knowing what else to
say.

“Yeah, me too. Our apartment is on the third floor and our
building doesn’t have an elevator. Wait. That’s not true. It
does
have
an elevator. It just hasn’t worked for the last fifteen years.”