The orchids had stopped coming, but not the gifts. A plate of cookies “for the staff” arrived, a bouquet of flowers for the breakroom, fancy coffee flavors showed up one day, along with a new single serve coffee machine. I knew the source of all these goodies, and I appreciated that Timothy was no longer embarrassing me by putting me in the spotlight. If my co-workers guessed at the reason for these treats, they probably thought it was Mr. Sanders. I think he was showered with thanks, which he covered with curt nods and always absented himself immediately, as if we’d all ganged up to ask for a day off.
And my paycheck! Mr. Sanders had doubled my salary. I thought the first time I peeked at my pay stub that there must have been some computing error, but when I went to bookkeeping, I was assured that it was the amount inputted by my boss. Of course, I never said anything to anyone, except Timothy. How could I? But it relieved a great deal of pressure from my shoulders. I actually began that retirement fund I’d been talking about. I set it to automatic so that I wouldn’t be tempted to splurge on anything.
Although I continued to explain that I had no background in art, Timothy often showed me pieces that he liked at his under-construction-gallery. Sometimes, he asked me to sort through the albums of works he was considering. At first that felt like a vice squeezing my confidence, or lack of it, I guess, but when I discussed my choices, attempting a kind of nonchalance he wouldn’t allow, Timothy approved my judgements and actually seemed to enjoy hearing my opinions.
Timothy’s art gallery was almost ready for its opening. It was the most incredible place. He obviously had good taste. Nothing was extreme, and he’d actually bought two genuine Turners, (something that should have been impossible since they were hoarded like a dragon’s gold.) I couldn’t wait to get to see them.
When they arrived, I sat staring at them. Chaos and turbulence were often Turner’s theme, but I saw that these weren’t like that. They showed the artist’s interest in ships, the setting of the sky, and the ocean water. Sure there was darkness in the paintings, but he had appreciated that dichotomy, as if the darkness of ugliness could be overcome by the light of goodness.
Timothy told me that he planned to balance them with a couple of ocean scenes by several local artists. Those new works showed the opposite of Turner’s pieces. For two of them, the ocean displayed the peacefulness of evening, with the sun sinking into the gentle swells of tranquility. Another let us experience the ocean during a rainstorm, but there was no darkness in the canvas. It was more about the water cycle, not in a scientific manner, but artistically. Something to be appreciated, something satisfying to the senses.