"Calder," I said, still staring at his face. "His name is Calder." He was even more beautiful than I remembered him; his dark, silky hair longer, his bone structure more defined, a slight scruff on his jaw and his deep, dark eyes pools of joy as he stared back at me.
The woman named Madison let out a loud sigh. "Well that sounds like a good idea. This is a huge shock. Both of you can get yourselves together and we can all have a nice little reunion after Calder wows the crowd and makes a huge name for himself."
We? I looked back at Madison and held my hand out. "I'm Eden," I said softly.
Madison glanced down at my still-shaking hand and then took it in hers. She stared at me for several long seconds. She had said this must be a shock—she must know who I am. Does she know I'm the girl in all of Calder's paintings? Finally she said, "I'm Madison, Calder's girlfriend and the owner of this gallery."
My blood ran cold and I swallowed heavily, my eyes flying to Calder. He closed his briefly and opened his mouth as if to speak, the color draining from his cheeks again, his eyes agonized and full of regret. "Eden . . ." was all he managed.
I took a deep breath, looking over at Xander who had a look on his face that was equally incredulous and now also pained. Xander looked at Calder. "Whatever you need," he said simply.
"I want to cancel it," Calder said, looking at me. "Madison, I need to talk to Eden. Now."
I shook my head, taking a big gulp of air. "No. It's three hours. We'll talk afterwards, all right?" I managed a smile, drawing in another big, shaky breath. "Us, you and me, we can wait three hours. This show won't wait." I smiled at him. It seemed utterly ludicrous that we would do anything other than hold on to each other for dear life right now, but even in my shocked, confused, joyful mind, I recognized he had a life that I wasn't a part of anymore. A terrible sense of grief gripped me at the knowledge that he had a girlfriend, but I took a deep breath and focused on him right in front of me. He was alive.
"Will you stay in here and wait for me?" he asked.
I glanced at Madison who had a worried look on her face, her lips pursed. I couldn't bear being in a room, or even a building, with Calder's girlfriend for three hours. It would kill me. "No. I'm going to let Molly take me home and I'm going to get cleaned up and I'll come back in a few hours, okay?" I brought my hand back up to Calder's cheek and he leaned into it. Madison cleared her throat and I brought it away, but didn't glance at her.
"No, Eden, no. I just . . . I need . . . I can't let you walk out of here. No."
"Calder," Madison interrupted. "I have to insist you stay here for at least a couple hours. We've hired all these people. They're all depending on you. And you have a contract with the gallery. Just a couple hours, that's all," she finished, her voice holding a note of anxiety.
"I'll take her," Xander said, glancing between us. "I’ve got her. I'll keep her safe, brother. Okay, Calder, yeah?" He looked at Calder worriedly.
Calder breathed out and then nodded his head, looking half stunned and half miserable.
Xander nodded. "All right. I've got her. Trust me? I'll text you her number and her address and I'll send yours to her phone, too. I've got her."
Calder brought his hand to his head and gripped his hair, bringing his lips together in a thin line.
I took a deep, calming breath. I was still shaking slightly and my brain seemed to be filled with white noise. "A few hours," I whispered.
Calder simply stood there—his expression one of anguish—his hand shaking as he reached out to touch me one last time, and then let his hand fall.
"Okay. Thankfully only a few people from the gallery saw that so not much damage control to do. Lori, will you open the doors again and just explain that—" The door closed behind me, shutting out Madison's voice. I walked out of the gallery on wobbly legs. People were flowing through the doors now and I only noticed a few curious glances my way. Xander held me on one side, Molly on the other.
Outside, it had started to pour down rain and the people in line were pressed up against the wall and window of the gallery, taking cover under the small overhang.
"Well this came out of nowhere," Molly said, stepping back under the cover of the doorway.
There was a brief discussion about whose car I'd ride in, but none of it registered and when Xander took hold of my arm and pulled me along, I let him. We both ran through the rain.
He helped me up into some kind of dull red, beat-up truck and I leaned back in the seat as he got in the other side and started the engine. I ran my hands quickly over my partially wet hair and then ran my palms over my jean-clad thighs. My mind and my body were weak with the toll of emotions slamming into me so fast and furious that I could hardly make sense of them all. Calder was alive. Calder was here, in Cincinnati. Calder was selling his art. Calder had a girlfriend. I closed my eyes.
"I didn't mention to your friend that I don't have a license," Xander said, running his own hand through his wet hair and then down his shirt. "I didn't know if she'd let you ride with me. The whole no ID thing tends to really get in the way." He trailed off, glancing over at me, a look of incredulity still on his face. He turned on his windshield wipers. My heart took up the same rhythm as the squeak of the blade clearing the water off the glass.
I gave him a small smile. "I know. And Molly, she's my cousin."