The Perfect Marriage(9)
So he told her that she was being selfish. That she should think of Owen.
“I am thinking about Owen,” Jessica had fired back. “Maybe you should too. He’s going to high school in Manhattan already, so it’s actually easier for him to spend most of his time with me.”
In the end, Wayne had acquiesced. He liked to think that it was because he had elevated his son’s well-being above his own, but deep down, a part of him knew that he’d done it for Jessica—to make her believe that he was the kind of man who’d elevate his son’s interests above his own. And that revelation made him hate himself.
“So, you in or what?”
James had lost the thread of the conversation about thirty seconds before. He knew Reid was presenting him with a business opportunity. It had something to do with a friend of Reid’s who had access to some Jackson Pollock sketches.
“How’d this guy get the Pollocks again?” James asked, if only to show that he was paying attention.
“The guy is Tommy Murcer,” Reid said, emphasizing his name to convey that he wanted James’s undivided attention this time through. “Like I said, he was fucking Lee Krasner back in the day. She gifted them to him.”
Lee Krasner was a first-rate artist in her own right but even more well known for being Jackson Pollock’s widow. She’d died in 1984, almost thirty years after her husband.
“How old is this Murcer guy?”
“I’m not sure exactly, but my guess is he’s closing in on eighty. That’s why he wants to sell now. He knows that after he kicks, provenance is gonna be much harder to come by.”
Provenance. The bugaboo of the art market and the bane of every dealer’s existence. Proof that what you were selling was the work of one of the greats and not a well-executed forgery.
There were experts who opined on the authenticity of works, and certain artists’ estates set up commissions to be the final arbiters when forgery questions arose. A signature was all but worthless in this regard because anyone talented enough to replicate the brushstrokes of a Rothko or a Picasso, or the splatter of a Pollock, could easily copy the scrawl of their signature on the back of a canvas. For that reason, one of the best ways to establish provenance was to link the work’s chain of custody back to the artist. While Murcer was still alive, he could attest that Lee Krasner had gifted him the pieces.
“My take is twenty-five percent,” Reid said. “I’ll cut you in for half of my end. That’s twelve and a half percent for you. A lot better than a typical finder’s fee.”
“You know this really isn’t my sweet spot.”
“Maybe I can get Tommy to do a little more.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“Then what?”
Although Reid was acting like he didn’t understand the basis for James’s hesitation, James knew it was only for show. Whatever weaknesses Reid possessed, being na?ve was not one of them.
“I’m sorry, Reid, I’m just not your guy.”
“Do me this favor, will you? Come out to East Hampton with me on Monday and let me show them to you. You’ll see that they’re authentic. Maybe that’ll change your mind.”
“I’ve got some things on my schedule . . .”
“Cancel them. C’mon, James, do me a solid on this, will you? Just take a look at them. No obligation.”
“If I can have everyone’s attention, just for a moment,” Jessica yelled above the din of the party. Some of the guests began to strike their silver against their glasses, and the crowd quieted. “Yes, this is the time for toasts,” she said. “So, if you’re a little low, fill up. I’ll wait. And James, that means you need to join me.”
One or two people took Jessica up on her offer and made their way toward the bar. James stepped away from Reid Warwick. When he reached Jessica in the middle of the room, he took his wife’s hand.
“James and I want to thank all of you, our dearest friends and family, for sharing this moment with us,” she began. “There is absolutely nothing I would redo about my first year of marriage to James, and that includes our decision to elope. But I must confess that, at times, I’m a little sad that I missed out on the joy of sharing my wedding day with the people I love most in this world. Now that you have all allowed me that by being here today, I can truly say that everything about marriage to James is one hundred percent perfection. If you’ll indulge me for a moment more, I would like now to say a few words directly to my husband.”
She turned to look at James. He was beaming at her.
“James, the last year has been the happiest of my life. It’s the kind of happiness that I thought existed only in fairy tales. But with you, I feel like the person that I was always destined to be, and I cannot imagine wanting more out of life than that.” She paused a beat, and then upon turning back to the guests said, “Please raise a glass and drink a toast to my wonderful husband, James.”
As soon as Jessica finished her sip of champagne, James took up the toast duty.
“I promise I’ll be short, and not as charming as Jessica,” he said, which elicited a few chuckles. “I would also like to thank our friends and family for being here tonight. It means so much to Jessica and me that we have such incredible people with whom to share our lives. And I want to especially say directly to my bride how much I love her. All of you who know Jessica are well aware of what a wonderful person she is. Smart, kind, thoughtful, and of course, absolutely beautiful. But I can say that she’s so much more of all of those things than you can even imagine. This past year has already been the best of my life, and at the same time, I have no doubt that next year will be even better. In fact, I’m quite certain that every year will be better than the last, for as long as we both shall live.”