Arrive by Dusk

By Gabrielle F. Culmer

Widowed at thirty-four, Mindy Croixe is a highly respected and popular artist. Her landscapes and aquatic portraits reflect all of the placesfrom New York to Parisshe had visited with her late husband, Lamont. Embarking on a new and important episode in her life, Mindy is participating in another art show, this one in Saint-Tropez on the Mediterranean Seaa long way from her roots of Crystal Shores.
Its here she runs into Blaine ONeill, a friend from way back when in Crystal Shores. Hes in Saint-Tropez for the opening of yet another of his luxury hotels. At thirty-five, Blaine has been successful in building his conglomerate, but not his personal life.
Mindy is conflicted. She and Blaine were friends, good friends. But her late husband had given her so much, and she is still reeling from their life together and what it should have been. Shes not sure she can consider a relationship, not even for an old friend who knows her well.

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Apr 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781480800472

Gabrielle F. Culmer

Gabrielle F. Culmer is the author of seven novels including Restoring Patterns, Easing Distractions, Where Lives Lead, Arrive by Dusk, Damp Whisper, and two collections of poetry and a book on genealogy. She has degrees from universities in New York, London, Illinois, Kent, and a certificate in advocacy in international affairs from an institute in Switzerland. Culmer is a lawyer who travels between Europe, The Bahamas, and New York.

Book preview

1

RIVIERA EVENING

The sun set warmly upon the seemingly tepid water of the Mediterranean Sea. Mindy watched aboard the yacht upon which she had been living during the festival. Excitement echoed from the cabins as celebrities, producers, and artisans conversed while huddled among chaise longues and small round cocktail tables.

Always thinking, she thought to herself as she stared deeply into the water.

The lines along her mouth moved in deep concentration. Her hair, a short black midlength bob cut around her ears, emphasized her moving and sympathetic gray eyes. Widowed at thirty-four, she found company and happiness in those around her. Where would she be without them? But there was something missing. The art show was due to commence at the hotel in Saint-Tropez with her work, which was full of landscapes and watercolors of every sight she had visited with her late husband over the years. Her career had progressed with his help, from little art shows in New York, Paris, and Milan. Now she was having her own show here in France, among many other artists, where she featured those who started like her. This time, she would do it alone. Her cousin Kathy had managed to make the trip and of course, Uncle Gerard, her backbone and mentor, but not present were her parents, Iris and Baldwyn, with Raymond and Margaret still in Crystal Shores. There was a deep yearning not even Kathy knew about—Kathy, whose life had been so sheltered from uncertainty and who was the wife of Wall Street’s wealthiest up-and-coming financier, whom she had married straight out of college in Massachusetts.

Mindy Croixe, we are waiting to cut the celebratory cake, an upper-class New England accent declared.

Mindy turned. Sorry, just got caught up in the lovely scenery. Just look at it. Lamont would have been so proud of me. The Nightingale Tavern was now her vessel. However, most of Lamont’s estate had reverted to his family’s assets, leaving her with the vessel, the house in Rhode Island, and the chateau in Nice. I was with you when I met him, at that little café at the bottom of the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré. Do you remember that night?

Yes, I think it was our first night here, Kathy said. How lucky life has been!

I know. You were already married, and I had just finished art school.

Gareth tried ringing me that night, and I was stuck chaperoning—or what it seemed like, hosting you and Lamont, the viscount, at the café, declared Kathy.

It is a long way from Crystal Shores, Mindy admitted.

For us both, Kathy said, laughing. Dad is so proud of you. You have really made the family proud. Even Elise phones you. How do you do it?

I just do, Mindy replied, knowing full well that it must be that old island luck or some sort of fantasy. In reality, it was her late husband, who had died suddenly at forty-four more than a year ago. The night she’d met him had been magical, as she was seeing the center of Paris for the first time. Her first trip with him to the Musée d’Orsay had been remarkable, and how she related to the art movement on exhibit there. Being back brought the memories gushing up, especially of the hospitality he showed during her first trip and the trips to the chateau in the countryside where she first realized that she had a future with him. They had had a small colloquial wedding at the medieval church in Provins in France, where his ancestors had lived and villagers had waited with streaming ribbons, flowers, and colored confetti to spray in the quaint and romantic setting.

Gosh, we are being rude. Let’s go back inside, Kathy suggested, always in her proper hostess mode. Come on. Dad wants to make a toast to you. Mindy complied willingly with Kathy’s suggestion.

The ladies entered the cabin where Uncle Gerard and Gareth sat chatting about the economic downturn and the euro’s reaction, while others listened in, being educated by one of the best-known young economists of the era. Gerard Stevens, now in his sixties and gray, was enjoying every moment of his young niece’s success and could not wait to report to his brother Baldwyn, Mindy’s father, upon his return to the island. Upon seeing the ladies enter the room, he turned and stood. Ah, you are back. I want to propose a toast to a successful, highly respected, and popular artist. To Mindy Croixe!

To Mindy Croixe, the others cheered as they raised their glasses to the hostess and the person who would make their careers.

Thank you, Uncle, and all of you, now, I just want to thank all of you for coming and for sharing this day with me tomorrow. Remember, we are all winners here. This has been a group effort, so I would like to make a toast to the team in response. To the team.

Hear, hear, could be heard, and the party applauded and glasses were raised.

Mindy had a flashback. The oak in the cabin reminded her of the old oak table they would all sit around when everything was about to happen. A strong sense of homesickness came over her, not for Rhode Island or New York but for Crystal Shores. The cabin swayed slowly in the tide as if she were on some old vessel heading for the Atlantic or the ancient routes. Now she was here in this historic setting, once again embarking on an important episode in her life.

Crystal Shores had changed in the past decade; the development had made it into a bustling cosmopolitan island almost in comparison with the European territories nearby. She had heard that the O’Neills had built a strong infrastructure along with the development, producing opportunity for many who passed through. Raymond and Margaret benefited greatly, as did little Richard. Baldwyn was able to purchase land from his investments and supported her through her education. Although he never said a word, the checks were sent on time from a little town to her and were always helpful, along with her scholarship. It was the basis upon which she was able to start her company, M. S. Croixe Art, a studio in SoHo and in Paris, and upon which she had come so far. Mindy stayed up with family and friends until well after midnight. The May moon shone brightly upon the glistening water’s surface.

What do you think tomorrow will be like? she asked Kathy.

It will be fabulous. You’ll see—it is a prime hotel, and I mean, the guest list is exceptional. You sure do know how to draw a crowd, Kathy replied, pleased.

Kathy knew she was covering up the obvious, and did not know how Mindy would react when she found out the O’Neills were in town. Blaine was hosting a party at his hotel next door; she had overlooked that fact in her assistance with the planning. She thought it had been years since Mindy had seen him; maybe they would just say the pleasantries and move on, or maybe something else. You really could not blame her. It was a coincidence, and besides, she had been a matchmaker before. However, this would not take much effort, not if Blaine had anything to do with it.

II

Mindy wore an elegant blue, pastel patterned lounge dress for the show. The heat was already sweltering, as it was the middle of May. Her heart was heavy as she thought of the many shows with Lamont and how they had planned to have a family. It was all empty for her now. She had to get to the exhibit to make the last touches; all the work had arrived the week before and was set out immaculately at the hotel. Kathy had assisted with the menu and the drinks; she was so excited. Mindy just wanted to see it before it got crowded, and to make last-minute arrangements.

All of her most popular aquatic portraits and landscapes were set out; the blues in them matched her dress and the vibrant water through the glass overlooking the marina. She peered through the window and stared as she played with the turquoise bracelet she had bought many years back on Fifth Avenue in New York.

Through the corner, someone entered—perhaps the hotel manager to welcome her. The voice commented, Well, it is a long way from Crystal Shores. I take my hat off to you, Mrs. Croixe. I have not seen you in years.

It was a warm voice from way back; she turned and could not believe her eyes. She saw him as if seeing him again as he stood in that shop back in the village, except this time, she remembered him. She knew him well, a friend from way back when. He was still tall and thin with those moving green eyes, almost the color of the marina. He had a few gray strands and was suntanned, but that was it.

Blaine? Blaine, you are here! Oh, what good news. What are you doing here? So lovely to see you. This meeting evoked a youthfulness in her, and she was that person again, except in a dressed-up world. She could only blush. He was right: it had been years since she had last seen him at the tiny studio in the East Village. He had just stopped by there too. It was her first show, and there were only a handful of people.

She had moved on but felt guilty about how she could not be with him and had taken the friendship for granted. Now she felt obligated to explain herself.

Blaine replied, I am here with my family, Karl and Brianna, my baby brother, Eddie, of course, Connell and Aunt Frances. We’re celebrating the opening of my new hotel here in the South of France. Mom is well—she is actually in Crystal Shores, and she really wanted to be here, without the drama of course. I am so happy that I got a chance to see you, though. I just wanted to wish you luck. I know it will be a great day for you. His words gushed out.

Please come, she insisted. You are invited, since you have gone through all of this trouble. Look, it would make me very happy to have you here. Part of my family is with me.

Sure, I would be delighted, he replied enthusiastically.

Please feel free to bring whomever. I do not know if you are married or what-have-you.

"No, I never really made it, but Connell, as you know, has a son now—Connell the third. With Eddie I have the baby brother I always wanted, and with the hotels, really, I have not had the chance. But seriously, thanks. I would love to come, and it would be a pleasure to have you and your family among the guests at the opening later this week—really. You still have it, Mindy; there is still that je ne sais quoi." He had always admired her inner strength, her most valuable asset.

Well, look at all of my paintings, she said, boasting.

I know, I see, wonderful. I do hope you make a lot of sales. I know many people who will be here are interested, but first let me offer my condolences. I know how hard this is for you.

Thanks, truly. The years have taught me a lot, and I am forever grateful for the time that I was given with him. She said timidly.

Well, from what I have heard about him, he sounded like a remarkable person, and please let me know—anything that you may need, you have a friend in me. By the way, good luck again. I look forward to seeing you later.

On that note, he turned and walked away, as it was all he could do or ever do. It was the story of his life with her, but he knew that one day, it would not be so, and that that day might come sooner rather than later. If he could develop his conglomerate, he could build his personal life now, at thirty-five years old.

Mindy looked inward as she walked past the art. He was here again. Perhaps she just needed him. Probably she had been a bit too forward; she did not want to give him false hope, as she had no idea where her life was heading. Was it heading back to Crystal Shores after all these years? But the world had been her oyster—New York and Paris—what would she do back there? It was simple: what she always did, paint. She thought of Kathy and how she had not warned her about Blaine. Surely she must have known.

The staff and contributors started to appear. Included was Mindy’s colleague Jessica De Have, an artist she had met during her early days in Paris just after she met Lamont. Jessica was struggling, and living in the art district in Paris, appearing in local shows. They shared a strong bond in their appreciation for landscape and marine formats. Jessica, who came from the Hamptons, was proud to be exhibiting her work with Mindy. In the early days, they started out in their studios daily and then spent time in the cafés and at the museums in the evenings. Summer had the most majestic evenings in Paris, with the sidewalk cafés open late and waiters in aprons carrying trays of coffee and fresh provincial salads. It was a completely different world for Mindy, and she portrayed it all in her work. Mindy was especially inspired by the vibrant tropical colors and water scenes of the impressionists; it had always been her dream to visit Saint-Tropez and the South of France. One of her most favorite paintings was the Nympheas Bleus, le Jardin de Monet at Giverny, by Claude Monet. It reminded her of a lovely, safe blue pond with a beautiful field of blossoming and flaming lilac-colored flowers. The first time she saw it had been on one of her first dates with Lamont. If only she could re-create a scene like that in her work, and be like one of the great artists. Her line consisted of landscapes of the Fontainebleau countryside, the marina at Saint-Tropez, and the bays at Crystal Shores. She remembered the first time she had seen the gardens that inspired Monet at Giverny. She was influenced, and wanted to have that talent.

Other staff and guests started to arrive, including Mindy’s family. Kathy was excited, having directed the staff all morning; she wanted everything to be perfect for Mindy. The two had been inseparable since her first trip from Crystal Shores to work at the firm. Mindy had been green then, and it was hard to tell that she was the elder of the two. Mindy was such a hard worker and was so helpful at the firm, Gerard insisted that she could have been a lawyer easily, but her path took a different turn when she finally moved to New York to study art. Now she had made Crystal Shores famous and was worthy of her new title. Mindy recognized many of the guests, but there were some really heavy movers in the room, too. She could tell that Blaine was right: they were serious about making a purchase. It was bittersweet for her. She would be happy to make the sales and yet saddened that the collection would be lessened. She supposed it all went with the territory.

Among the large crowd of people, she glimpsed him, still tall and outstanding, with the light still glistening in his sandy-colored, beach-boy hair. He wore a white blazer and navy blue slacks, as if from a magazine. He made little effort with his appearance yet pulled it off perfectly. He was admiring the landscape of the Crystal Shores Bay, which she had created from memory as if that person still sat on the water’s edge with the easel, daintily sketching and coloring. He stood for the longest time. He knew he would make a bid; it would be perfect for the foyer of the hotel on the island, a Mindy Croixe original. It was strange for him to see her new name, yet it branded all of her work, and she had a universal company with it. What was wrong with his name? It was either her or the resort. It could never be both, or could it? Why not have it all?

Smashing, Mindy, just superb. Look how well it has all panned out for you, her uncle congratulated her. It was like having a second daughter; he had become responsible for her, and what a perfect young lady she had turned out to be.

Yes, I really have to thank you, Kathy, and the others. Really, it has been a blessing having my family here from so far away. It would have been nice to have Mom and Dad here, but there will always be another time. I should have the next one at home. She always made that promise, but it would pan out differently. Here she had the scenic view of the European sea, a blue different from that of Crystal Shores, but still a fascinating blue. It was accessible to the upper crust of the artistic market, and she was in high demand. There were definitely benefits to having the showing there. She walked over to Blaine.

It is so nice to see you here, she said. Do you like it? I painted it from memory.

It is perfect—it cannot get any better. I want it for the hotel. It is where it belongs, where we are from, on the island, he responded, flattering in every way.

I know. You can have it. I cannot think of a better place where it would be more appreciated, she responded proudly.

I would be honored to have it and to take it back home. We can have a viewing with friends and family when you return. When are you coming home?

I do not know. I have to get back to Paris and then to New York. I mean, I have to finalize a few things in business. You know how it gets.

I sure do, but they really would look forward to seeing you back at home. I want to see my mother, but I will be in Paris next week on my way home. Let me meet you there, perhaps for a dinner. I mean that I am not pushing it, but I sure would like to hear how it has been for you.

Sure, that will be fine. I am looking forward to it. I am sure that you know Kathy and Gareth will be in Paris with me, but it is nice to see you, and perhaps I will see you at the opening before then, suggested Mindy, picking up on his reticence.

His face lit up. Sure, that would be great. I mean, my family would love to see you again. It has been years. Do consider it. I do not want to take up your time, as you have lots of people here to see you. I will help myself to another canapé and sign off on that painting.

Thank you, I really appreciate it. It really does belong home. Rather appreciatively, she turned and walked to greet the other guests.

She did not know what to do. She really did not want to give him the wrong impression. There was no harm in meeting—after all, they were friends—but her late husband had given her so much and she was still reeling in their life together and what it should have been. There was no way she could consider it, not even for an old friend who claimed to know her well.

That was him, I know it, that was Blaine O’Neill. Unbelievable—he is just how you described him, Jessica commented. Think about it. It was nice of him to show.

And to buy the painting.

Really? That is such good news. You must be so happy that it will go to someone like him. Do you know that he has to be the most eligible bachelor in the world?

I sure do—we go way back. Mindy was almost embarrassed to tell her that she had known him for almost all her life and had walked away from it once, when she was young and silly. But life had showed her more than she could imagine; it was personified in the man who gave her his name. How could Blaine compete with a ghost? None of it would have happened without her late husband and his support. She was back in their territory, except it seemed that Blaine was encroaching again. This was where she spent her time in her new life. Why was he always there? She was overcome with guilt now, guilt that she was unappreciative. He was helpful in the beginning. The investment had pulled off and Baldwyn made money, as did Uncle Gerard. Then there was all he had done for the community. But she needed to see all that he already knew, and what good would it have done for him? Had she been that cooped-up lady with no experience? Now she could compete; now he had to meet her on her level.

Blaine was happy that he had appeared, and that it was a wonderful and exciting week for him. Of course there had been other relationships, but none with Mindy’s values, and none to inspire him to build the developments he had. He had never dreamed that she would get so far without him; he wanted her to grow with him. Since she left the firm, he had felt like an outsider, showing up in New York and feeling unwanted and unable to compete with her artistic friends, when he had business meetings to contend with in the city. Her not returning for winter breaks when March was her favorite month, and her preferring Paris and Rhode Island to Crystal Shores. He did not want to say it, or to think it, but she had become like Harriett, another string in his heart. What could draw her home and back to Crystal Shores? Could he settle on New York to be with her? It was close enough and Harriett was there. There had to be an answer. He looked at the ocean and there it was, the Nightingale Tavern, which had sailed halfway around the world and docked at every European port, although not enough at the dock in Crystal Shores. What had she become? When he knew that she was still there, he could see it. He felt like his father, like he had to concede defeat.

III

Are you going to let it get to you, son? Karl asked upon seeing the pensive mood Blaine had created since the show. Take it from me, just move on. You have been waiting for almost ten years. Give it up and get on—don’t be like me.

No, that is not it, it is not like that. She is a good person—there just is something blocking that. Her brother died accidentally and it is just not her fault, and now this. We should be feeling sorry for her.

I am glad you can find it in your heart to forgive and forget, but remember that you have an event and this is new territory for you. Don’t mess it up. We are here to back you—you have us, Karl replied with his ever-shining guidance.

Blaine understood his father’s concern, but it was a coincidence that they were in France together—serendipity—and he believed in them. I am grasping this opportunity, I really am, but no matter how much I build, it is like she is passing me by. Why?

Son, it is like this: you have everything. Don’t blow it. I cannot be more frank. What has happened in her life is sad, but you have to move on from that. You can’t be there every step. You don’t know if she even wants you there. Take it from me: don’t waste your time.

You don’t know. I saw her and she will meet me next week. You’ll see. She is the same, I know it. Just then young Eddie ran in, followed by Brie. She was as youthful as she had been ten years ago, and even more overjoyed to have a child.

See, it’s big brother Blaine. My, how he looks up to you, exclaimed Brie.

He is the apple of my eye too, aren’t you, little brother?

2

THE OPENING

Blaine had been eagerly awaiting this day for a full year. He had finally completed the sale and renovations in the hotel, Le Pont de la Mer a 200-room luxury resort on the French Riviera. It seemed that he had come full circle since his