Chapter 32

David was waiting for her at the Key West Airport. They hugged, happy to see one another, and loaded Julie’s bag into the trunk of David’s lime-green Volkswagen convertible. Julie refrained, once again, from asking about the big, yellow sunflower attached to the dashboard in a bud vase. Did it come with the car? Or was his personal bit of élan?

“Oh, God! I’m so glad you’re here at last, Julie. No one wants to come to the house because of all the reporters. You know we always had company. I’m not used to being alone like this! I miss Marc so-o terribly. And people stared at me in the Fresh Market this morning,” he said, tears brimming.

Poor David. At some point in your life, you stepped out of the closet and directly onto the stage.

David’s over-the-top despair was actually reassuring. Julie knew it was part of his persona. He was distraught and sad…and that was hard to fake.

“It won’t last forever, David,” she said, squeezing his hand. “Why were you shopping? Are you cooking tonight, I hope?”

“Veal chops and polenta with leeks”, he sniffled. ”With strawberry shortcake for dessert.” More sniffles.

“I love strawberry shortcake!” she said.

Julie continued to steer the conversation to more soothing subjects, the warm weather, new and interesting restaurants that had opened. She asked David about some recent decorating he and Marc had done. Before long, his mood had lifted, the short ride was over, and they were pulling into the driveway behind Marc’s old Volkswagen van. David was relieved to see that there were no reporters in sight.

“Thank you, God!” he said.

A few royal palms and a couple of short, bushy sego palms graced the front yard and swished in the warm breeze as they retrieved Julie’s bag from the trunk of the car.

Twelve Gulf Wind Drive was a sturdy looking, white brick ranch with a circular drive and a neat lawn. Nobody expected what they saw when they stepped into the unassuming house. The view across the open floor plan was a stunning surprise. Floor to ceiling windows and two sets of clear French doors opened out onto a beautifully landscaped pool and patio. Beyond that, there was a wide canal…and usually one or two spectacular mega-yachts.

Marc and David had pooled their money and bought the house roughly ten years ago for a half million, if Julie’s memory served. Joe said it’s worth over two million now, she recalled.

The house sat one lot away from the Gulf of Mexico, and that lot was the side yard of an estate worth fourteen million. Essentially, nothing stood between Marc and David’s house and the Gulf but an expanse of green lawn, dotted with palm trees and their neighbor’s sprawling free-form pool.

It was originally an ordinary three bedroom with the master at the left rear of the house opening onto the pool, and the other two bedrooms on the right end of the house, the living areas in between.

Julie remembered what it had looked like back then and how hard the boys had worked on it.

They had extended and updated the kitchen, as well as adding a pool bathroom with a shower on the gulf-side of the property. A second-floor loft over the extension was built to serve as Marc’s studio. It had its own small deck and stairs leading down to the pool

Julie usually felt queasy looking out on large expanses of water, but the view from Marc’s studio didn’t bother her…perhaps because of the lot in between. With its magnificent light and panorama, the loft had enabled and inspired Marc to paint a whole series of glorious sunsets.

All the decorating of the house had been left to David’s artistic touch.

The kitchen, of course, was a chef’s delight with the latest stainless steel appliances and gadgets. A low granite bar, surrounded by comfortable chairs, separated the cooking and dining areas. Rich teak leant its warmth to both the kitchen cabinets and the dining room table. Clean, white woodwork framed the windows and doors. In the living room, an exquisite oriental rug covered the stone-tiled floor, where tan suede couches beckoned, red pillows scattered here and there.

The neutral colors provided a perfect background for Marc’s riotously colorful paintings, artfully placed around the house with gallery lighting.

Julie’s gaze automatically went to the artwork, entranced by Marc’s genius.

David spoke, snapping her out of it.

“Why don’t you get yourself settled in, Julie, while I get us some refreshments. What would you like to drink? A nice, cold Chardonnay?”

“I’d love some, David. Thank you.”

Julie pulled the carry-on bag behind her into the first bedroom on her left, where she usually stayed. She noticed that the big bed in the room at the end of the hallway was stripped of linens and personal things. Since Marc’s diagnosis, David had been sleeping there. He must have moved into Marc’s room, she thought.

The master bedroom and the studio loft were on the other end of the house. Julie recalled the times when Marc, in the grip of his muse, would climb the stairs and paint all through the night.

She closed her eyes tight, his presence palpable. It was hard to be in this room, in this house!

Sorely in need of comfort, Julie suddenly missed Joe Garrett.

The thought took her by surprise.

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