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  They arrived at the hotel that was holding the reception. There hadn’t been enough room at the hospital with all the invitations. The steps up to and into the ballroom were carpeted in red for the guests. There were round tables everywhere. A dancefloor. In back of it all was a long table where all the directors of the hospital sat with their spouses. In one corner was a covered 20’ picture displayed so that everyone in the room would be able to see it when it was time. They’d hung it within 5’ of the ceiling and had lights trained on it. Below it and also covered was a table containing brochures and pamphlets, also covered. Simon escorted her to his uncle and they were seated at the long table.

  It wasn’t long before the room was full of laughing and talking people. It got quite loud until one of the directors stood up and made a speech. That many people though couldn’t remain absolutely quiet and you could hear discrete conversation and people moving about. Four different directors made speeches of varying lengths. Since none of it was of interest to Joan she was quite bored and spent her time looking about the ballroom. It had beautiful pressed wallpaper lining the 30’ foot high walls with wooden panels separating each section of the wall creating a very definite French look. It was really quite beautiful with the chandeliers glistening.

  Finally the fourth director sat down and they were served. Joan had roast chicken with asparagus and new potatoes seasoned with garlic. They served champagne in long flutes. Joan made sure she ate before having any of the champagne, she didn’t want to get sick this evening.

  Harold gave everyone a good 45 minutes to eat and when he saw enough people had finished and were milling about he got up to give his speech. He kept it fairly short, thanking all the correct people and noting how their contributions had affected LA Medical Center and allowed them to build the new children’s wing with it’s beautiful new entrance. He told everyone that they were fortunate to acquire the talents of a world renowned portrait artist who had painted them a lovely portrait for the entrance. He introduced Joan Woods.

  Fortunately she had finished her meal and done repairs to her make up. Harold had mentioned that he wanted her to say a few words before the unveiling. She stood up and headed to the podium in the center of the long table. It seemed to take forever to walk the length. Every eye in the room was on her, hundreds of them. She was well fortified with an excellent meal and two flutes of champagne. She hadn’t written a speech but she felt well prepared. Finally she reached the podium.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, I would like to thank the kind directors of this hospital and in particular Mr Waterman for the opportunity to create this portrait for your hospital. It wasn’t difficult and you might say I was inspired. As you will see it’s beauty and realize how special it is, you will understand how perfect it is for this new wing. In fact I’d like to donate the money I was paid to make this beautiful portrait to the children’s wing.” She hesitated a moment to let the applause die down before continuing, “Without a long speech to further keep you from enjoying this gala, I give you Grace, Hope, Charity, Wisdom, and Compassion.” So saying she flung her arm out and the waiters pulled the ropes holding the drapery from the portrait.

  There was a collective gasp and then applause began. It rose in volume as people began to stand and gave Joan an ovation. She had changed the final painting and it wasn’t just Grace in the picture, she had painted children around the bottom of it and it looked like the silhouette ghost angel was looking down on them with the title words across the painting in script on three levels. She stepped down from the podium and began to return to her seat but was stopped by the directors and their wives. She shook dozens of hands, was told over and over how beautiful it was, how generous her donation. Mr Waterman made his way to her and gave her a hearty kiss on the cheek, telling her how happy she had made him and the board. The donation he told her wasn’t necessary but she insisted. She finally explained that she would make it back in prints as per their contract she had the copyright.

  People took this as an opportunity to socialize. Many people made their way to the portrait to view it closer and to pick up the matching brochure that was on the table below it. It had a copy of the portrait on the front and information about the gala inside. In small print on the back Joan’s Malibu studio was listed for people to obtain prints of the work. The orchestra began tuning up.

  Harold began introducing Joan to people from the hospital. Department by department he introduced people she couldn’t hope to remember. It was amazing how many people he knew. She must have been with him an hour when he took her to another table and began introducing them. They were part of the psychiatric department. He’d introduced four of the doctors and two of the interns when he introduced one more, “And this is our newest acquisition, she hasn’t been with us but six months or so, but she seems to be fitting in well, Doctor Monroe!”

  Joan felt her heart beating a mile a minute. She became very warm. She hadn’t in any way been prepared to run into Grace face to face. She hadn’t seen Grace standing there with the rest of the doctor’s as Grace had seen her and deliberately stood behind one of the others. She hadn’t even considered that Grace would be at this gala. Her face gave away nothing, it was frozen with the smile and greeting she had been giving the other doctor’s. She reached out and shook Graces hand as though she was any other of the people she had met that night, impersonal. She was saved from having to say anything by Simon.

  “There you are my beauty, Uncle you can’t keep MY date all evening. I MUST have this dance” so saying he pulled Joan away from the group and onto the dance floor.

  Laughing at his nephews playfulness Harold shrugged his shoulders at the others and turned to look for his own wife. The doctor’s and their dates returned to their seats, Grace included.

  “What say you he tries something on her on the floor” one of the younger doctor’s asked the table at large, his head indicating Simon dancing with Joan. They were all watching Simon and Joan dancing.

  “I’ll bet he goes home with her.” Another one contributed.

  “She’s too old for him” one of the wives interjected.

  “She’s female, she’s breathing, she’s beautiful, that’s all Simon needs” the first doctor answered.

  Grace listened to this and more as they compared notes about Simon’s prowess. The general consent was that he was too conceited to land Joan. Simon was so sure of himself and his good looks that he’d been difficult to work with. Since his uncle was on the board he tried to take advantage of the association at every turn. He was so smarmy that many of the doctor’s avoided working with him. He made improper remarks about patients and it was rumored he had dated one or two. Generally no one took him seriously. Grace had never seen Joan dance. She was really good. She and Simon looked a match. Joan didn’t look the ten plus years that she was older than her date, five maybe but with her new look it was hard to tell. Grace could feel herself drawn to Joan again, even after all this time. Her face was warm and her hands had become clammy. She had to pull herself together.

  Grace had come with one of the other doctor’s from psych on a purely platonic basis. He understood that she couldn’t bring a woman along as a date for one of these functions. He had the same problem with bringing a man. They had been to one other party like this. Some of their colleagues thought they were dating, instead they were really good friends who understood each others situation clearly.

  Grace had seen the woman sitting up at the long table with Simon. The woman seemed very familiar. Grace couldn’t place her though. She didn’t know anyone with cornrows and her contacts were giving her such trouble that she couldn’t see clearly from where she sat at the psych table. The features were familiar though. It bothered her for awhile and then when Harold Waterman had introduced Joan her heart nearly stopped. She hadn’t seen Joan in over a year. Reaching into her purse she pulled out her glasses and studied Joan as she gave her short, impressive speech. She couldn’t believe the change. It was the same Joan but one
she had never seen. The hair alone changed a lot about her. It gave her such an impressive look, it made her stand out among the other women. Not many could have pulled the look off, but with Joan’s long hair and the way she had wrapped it along the sides and added gold beading she looked like a Grecian Goddess. Standing there under the spot light the red in her hair glistened and the lights reflected off the beading. The dress clung to her figure and she stood proudly. Grace was stunned. This beautiful woman was Joan. Someone who had occupied her thoughts for months in the last year. She had seriously considered hiring a detective to find her when she realized she was becoming obsessed and dropped it. She hid her hurt. Her friends tried to help but to no avail. Joanne had even offered to kick her ass for her, she had laughed. They all knew how hurt she truly was this time, she had fallen hard and quick.

  The dance wasn’t even finished before someone else cut in on Simon. Joan adjusted to his dancing as she had to Simon’s. Grace watched as steady progression of men cut in on each other. Joan must have danced for an entire hour before heading off the floor, refusing another dance.

  “Something wrong?” her date leaned over to ask.

  Startled Grace turned to look blankly at Rob, confused. “What?”

  “Your all flushed, I’d say your pulse is racing a bit from your accelerated breathing, and you seem to be staring at someone. Who is it? Someone from your past?”

  “Uh, no. I don’t know, maybe it’s the champagne or something. Excuse me, I need to use the ladies room.” So saying, she got up from the table and headed that way. She noted that Joan had headed that way as well.

  It was a large ladies room with couches and chairs in an ante-chamber. There was a slight line despite it’s size and Grace never saw Joan in there. She took time to renew her makeup and to calm herself. When she could tell that Joan must have already left while she herself was in a stall she left the room. Coming out she looked around the gala searching for a cornrowed brunette with red highlights. She spotted one by the bar and headed determinably toward her.

  Joan had just ordered a Mimosa from the bartender. They were discussing the relative merits of orange juice as he fixed it for her and he harmlessly flirted with the pretty woman. She had just taken a deep drink of it when she heard someone behind her saying her name. At the voice she dribbled a bit of the full mouth of Mimosa and quickly leaned over the bar to catch it. She swallowed the rest in her mouth. Stiffening her spine she turned to look at Grace who with her quirky little elfin smile was watching her.

  “Sorry, did it get you?”

  Raising an eyebrow in question Joan looked down. The dribble had been caught by the bar and she whipped it with her napkin. Turning back to Grace, her eyebrow still cocked in question, she waited.

  Grace looked her over from head to toes. She had examined her on the podium, when she was being introduced to everyone on their way to her table, when she was at their table, when she danced, Grace was very aware of her standing in front of her. “You look fabulous.”

  “Thank You.” Joan wasn’t sure of the protocol in this instance. She was severely uncomfortable but looking at her you wouldn’t have known.

  “I’m glad to see you looking so well.”

  Deciding to take the bull by the horns Joan plunged in, “was there something you wanted?” Shaking her head to emphasize her words.

  Wanted, perhaps, needed? Swirling the words around Grace wasn’t sure where to start. “I was hoping that we might talk.”

  “Why?” Joan made it sound as though it were the greatest inconvenience in the world what Grace had asked. “What would be the point?” She took another swig of her drink.

  Dumbfounded Grace stared at her. Joan kept her eyes determinately fixed on a spot past Grace’s shoulder. Firmly she answered “I’d like to talk to you.”

  “I don’t think this is the time or the place. Furthermore, I don’t think we have anything to say to each other.” The tone was very cold.

  Grace was saved from a response by Simon showing up. “Hello, my lovelies.” He put an arm around Joan’s shoulders pulling her close. Her drink began to slosh.

  “Watch it.”

  Loosening his grip he smiled down into her face with all his charm. “How about a dance sweething.”

  Grace was nauseated at the thought. He was so smarmy. How in the world could Joan stand him.

  “Simon, I just got my drink. I’d like to actually FINISH this one.” She knew what she was dealing with here.

  “But you haven’t danced with me forever.” He whined. Trying to look boyish at the same time. His hand started creeping down her shoulder.

  “How would you like a good elbow to the larynx?”

  Alarmed his hand stopped. He smiled at her winningly. “Come on, let’s dance. I want to talk to you.”

  Ignoring him and Grace who he hadn’t noticed practically at all, Joan downed her drink like it was a shot glass. He shot an admiring glance at her, obviously pleased. He drew her away from Grace and the bar. Grace just stood there and watched them go to the dance floor.

  Rob had watched Grace watch Joan all evening. Grace had the most intense eyes. Sometimes when she was impassioned by something at work they made her look so fierce. She wore the emotions of what she was feeling at the moment on her face. The brown eyes were depthless. Tonight she had worn blue contacts to match her outfit. She looked very attractive. Her suit was a deep blue and her skirt was cut very high. She wore a tuxedo jacket which made it look like she wore nothing underneath it. Rob joined her at the bar. “Are you all right?”

  Smiling wanly she said yes. She told him though that she thought she should go. It was getting late and she was tired. Giving him an absentminded kiss on the cheek she headed for the foyer and on her way out gave the portrait a good once over. Some of it looked vaguely familiar, she wondered if she had seen it in Joan’s studio or something like it. Reaching the table she took one of the brochures and placed it in her purse. She went over to the coat check and fished out her ticket. Waiting for her coat she overheard a conversation:

  “So you don’t mind if I don’t see you home?” a man’s voice.

  “Not if you have a better offer I certainly don’t.” At the woman’s voice Grace stiffened recognizing it. Joan and Simon. Turning slightly she saw them out of the corner of her eye. They were standing by a potted fern with Simon’s arm leaning against the wall. Joan was looking up at him as she answered. Her chin raised in defiance.

  “Well, I didn’t think you were going to offer?” He asked as though considering it.

  “Well that’s what you get for thinking.” Joan answered dryly. Grace almost laughed aloud. That’s it, put the charmer in his place.

  Smiling and using all his considerable good looks on her he cocked his head sideways to ask “would you have offered?”

  Waiting a moment Joan seemed to consider the offer “hmmm, ahhh nope!”

  Losing his smile at her definite but flippant ‘nope’ he asked and you could hear the whine in his voice “why not?”

  Laughing at him Joan shook her head. “Simon, I’m old enough to be your mother in a redneck sort of way, besides which your not my type and I’m not yours.”

  “Not my type?” He stared at her blankly, totally NOT understanding. “Your female, I’m male. Your sexy, I’m sexy.” He honestly believed the line he was giving her.

  “Gimme a break sexy boy, you know I’m not your type. I’m sure the ditzy gal you got panting over you will be more than happy to fill the shoes. I’m fine, you leave me the wheels and I’ll make it back to my place, okay?” Being blunt finally penetrated his brain.

  He smiled winningly again. So sure of his charisma. “OK beautiful, but you don’t know WHAT your missing.” So saying, he gave her a salute and sauntered away.

  Watching him, Joan mumbled “Oh, I know WHAT I’m missing all right. A case of VD, at the least.” She wasn’t aware that Grace could hear every word. She turned and headed back into the gala. She didn’t even see Grace
standing there.

  Grace was biting her lips to keep from laughing. What a set down. Poor Simon. The woman with her coat was watching her oddly. She’d been standing there for some moments with the coat as Grace shamelessly eavesdropped on Joan. Taking her coat and giving the woman a tip Grace had a thought. Hurrying out to the parking attendant she spoke with him intently. Shaking his head and holding out his hand unobtrusively she handed him a $20. Still shaking his head she pulled the $20 away and handed him a $50. Nodding he signaled someone to get her car. She had to tip that guy when he delivered it the normal $2.

  Joan walked back into the gala to see if she could say goodbye to her benefactor Harold at least. She must have been stopped half a dozen times by people to chat with her and her art. Finally, she reached him and his wife and wished them goodnight. She left the hall and got her coat from the cloakroom. Tipping the gal who looked at her strangely she left the hotel down the red carpet. She signaled to one of the parking attendants not realizing that he had been looking for her. “I need my car, thank you, it’s one of the limousines.” She handed him the ticket. Nodding he signaled one of the other attendants who came up and was handed her ticket.

  “Ma’am, that limousine has left with someone else.” He stated blandly.

  “Left? How in the heck am I supposed to get home then?” She was definitely annoyed now. After Simon said he’d leave it for her too!

  “We can call you a cab if you wish?”

  “Please” she stated with no hint of her exasperation.

  With a signal he summoned the green Jaguar coupe that was parked discreetly along the line of other cars in front of the hotel. It pulled up right in front of them and he opened the passenger door.

  Joan had been staring off into space not seeing his signal or the car. When she looked down in front of her she was confused for a moment. Realizing that the car looked familiar she leaned down a little to look inside at the driver. In an instant she realized what had happened. Angrily she gave Grace a look and then the parking attendant who stood there observing them. Frostily she told him “Either you get me my limo or a cab NOW or I’ll make sure you lose your job over this.”