The Mistress(9)
He was able to be absent from Paris, since his daughter, Marie-Claude, was working at the gallery by then, and he was hoping to ease her into running it. She was doing an excellent job, although she complained about his being away so much and leaving all the responsibility to her, but she was enjoying it too, and had introduced some new contemporary artists, who were selling well. Just as her father had, she enjoyed discovering new artists and presenting their work. And she had a good eye for what would sell in the current art market. Gabriel was justifiably proud of her.
On a quiet night, after the closing of the restaurant, sitting at a table in the garden, Gabriel opened his heart to Maylis. He had been in love with her almost since they met, and only his deep respect for his old friend, and his appreciation of the love they shared, had kept him from speaking to her sooner. But with her new lease on life and the success of the restaurant she had created, he finally felt the time was right. It was now or never, although he was terrified of destroying the friendship they had had for nearly thirty years.
Gabriel’s confession came as a shock to Maylis, and she discussed it with her son the next day. Theo knew how much his father and mother had loved each other, and what a brilliant artist he was, but he had by no means been the saint Maylis had portrayed him as since his death. And he had often been hard on her as he got older. She had devoted her whole life to him, and forgave him all his flaws. Theo had a far more realistic view of who his father had been, irascible, cantankerous, difficult, egotistical, even tyrannical at times, and possessive of his mother, with a temper that didn’t improve with age. Gabriel was a far gentler, more giving man, who had demonstrated deep concern for her and always put her first, unlike his father, and Theo had suspected since his father’s death that Gabriel was in love with her, and hoped he was. He had always thought Gabriel was a wonderful person and good for her, and he encouraged her to give Gabriel’s feelings for her some very serious thought. He couldn’t imagine a better companion for her and didn’t want her to end her years alone.
“But what would your father think of my going off with him? Wouldn’t that be a betrayal? They were good friends, after all. Even if your father was rough on him at times.”
“Rough on him?” Theo had said, laughing at her. “He called him a crook for all the years I can remember. ‘My crooked art dealer in Paris.’ I don’t know another human being who would have put up with him, except you. And Gabriel always stuck by us, and he’s still here with you now, Maman. And if he’s always been in love with you, it’s to his credit that he never let it show while Papa was alive. He was a true friend to both of you. And if you accept him now, it won’t be a betrayal, it will be a blessing for you both. You’re too young to be alone. And Gabriel is a good man. I’m happy for you. You deserve it, and so does he.” And Theo knew that Gabriel would be so much easier than his father had been, and so much kinder to her. He was the ultimate gentleman, and Theo was glad that he had finally declared himself and he hoped she would consider it seriously, and she did.
She gave Gabriel her answer a few days later, and told him she could never love any man as she had Lorenzo. She had deep affection for Gabriel, and admitted that she loved him as a friend, and it might grow into something more with time, now that he had expressed his feelings for her. But she warned him that even if they became involved romantically, which she acknowledged as a possibility, Lorenzo would always remain her first love, and the love of her life. Gabriel would have to be willing to be second best, and have a lesser role in her life, which she didn’t think was fair to him.
But loving her as he did, he was willing to accept that, and quietly hoped that she would open her heart to him fully one day. He felt sure it was possible, and was willing to take the risk. He proceeded slowly thereafter, courting her gently and wooing her in small romantic ways. He finally invited her for a weekend in Venice with him, where things took their natural course, and they had been lovers ever since. They were quiet about it at first, and never made a big issue of it. He kept his room over the restaurant and left his things there, but for the past several years, he slept at the studio with her. They went on trips together and enjoyed each other’s company, and she told him that she loved him, and meant it, but she still rhapsodized about Lorenzo, and extolled his genius and his mainly imagined virtues, and Gabriel allowed her to keep her illusions without argument.
They had been lovers for almost four years, and Gabriel was satisfied with the relationship, even with its limitations, out of love for her. He never suggested marriage to her, nor asked for more than she was willing to give him of herself, and now and then Theo scolded her that she shouldn’t talk about Lorenzo all the time around Gabriel—it always pained Theo for him.
“Why not?” she asked, looking surprised when he said it. “Gabriel loved your father too. He knows he was a great man, and how much he meant to me. He doesn’t expect me to forget him, or to stop telling clients about him when they come to the restaurant to see his work. That’s why they come here.”
“But Gabriel comes here because he loves you,” Theo said gently. He always marveled at Gabriel’s tolerance of being number two in his mother’s life, playing second fiddle to a man who had been dead for twelve years, and had been anything but the saint she described him as. As much as he had loved and admired his father, he thought Gabriel was the better man, and far kinder to his mother than his father in his final years. He had been a great artist, but a very difficult man. He had never been easy to live with, even in his youth, according to people who had known him then. And his talent, burning within him like a white-hot flame, sometimes seared those closest to him and who loved him most.