Portrait


by Leslie Moore

Chapter Nine

For the next few weeks, life went smoothly. We were doing well together and thank goodness we didn’t hear from Mrs. Statler. Matt did report that she gave him the money out of his account.

We were sitting there in the condo on a Monday night. I was catching up on the Times. Matt mentioned the hundred thousand dollar deposit in his account and last year’s loan being covered He also brought me up to date on our plan.

“I’ve talked to the condo offices, and they have buyers for this place and the studio. They said whenever we want we can sign a contract. We’re walking away with mad money.”

I looked up from the Sunday Times. “When are you up for packing boxes?”

“I don’t think we can move the studio until we build a new one. And I have no idea where we put all the stuff that’s in here. Your place is already full of your stuff. I’m stumped.”

“I say give us six months from the time we settle with Mrs. McCarthy.”

“That’s a good idea. I’m thinking about starting up the Foundation early after we finish with all of this. I’ve decided to start laying out the groundwork and seeing what I need to do. After talking with my mother, I’m even going to invite her to donate a portion of her money to the foundation.”

“Seriously? You think your mother is going to let you have her money?”

“No, I don’t. But I’ll let the lawyers show her the benefits of starting a foundation in my father’s name and all the positive press she’ll get. Plus, I’m sure her tax accountants will agree with it. Imagine if this foundation has a billion dollars in it to start. Imagine what we could do to help people.”

I nodded and put the paper down. I was too nervous to multitask. “It all just scares me. But I do want to help teens with outreach programs. There are so many people who need help.”

“Well, we can find an outreach program and donate to them or we can fund a start-up program. I think we need to create a board and come up with a general philosophy that appeals to us. We’ll have all sorts of lawyers and accountants to walk us through the government process of making this all tax deductible. Who knows, we might get donations from other foundations, too.”

I smiled. “Helping would be nice. But let your mom have all the glory. I don’t want you kidnapped and held for ransom because they think you’re a billionaire.”

“Sounds smart. But, if we start this foundation, all that money goes away. We’d be on the board, but people would know we won’t benefit from any of the money. If we center the whole project right here in New York, we’ll just have to cross the street to have meetings, no round the world junkets.”

I nodded.

“In the meantime, I talked to Mrs. McCarthy, and she’s happy to let us tour the place anytime today.”

“Now that’s something I can get behind. I’d love to walk through McCarthy’s place and start laying out the changes we’re going to make. I’m thinking of moving my business over to the flower shop. It would give me room to hire two new people so I can expand.”

“What happens to your store?”

“Hmm. I guess I haven’t thought that through. If someone were to rent it, they’d want both floors, wouldn’t they? That’s not going to work.”

“Living here has spoiled us. We have both places now. What if we kept both?”

I nodded. “You’re right. We use all our space now. The studio, our condo, and my house are all consumed. We are gluttons.”

“Would you like to move to one of those tiny houses or an Airstream?”

“We could walk the Rockies and backpack.”

We both chuckled and tried to imagine all the places we’d never been.

“Why don’t you move to the flower shop and open up another business in your old space. How about a copy store that offers technical assistance? It would be a local version of Staples. You could hire on your help and just oversee the production.”

“Not bad. Not bad at all. We can brainstorm all sorts of businesses we can operate out of it. Would you still want to live upstairs?”

“Let’s decide that after we visit the flower shop.”

We went over to the flower shop after it closed that afternoon. We both took tablets with us to take photos and make notes. Matt went down into the basement.

He was smiling when he came up. “The heater’s shot and there are soft spots in the flooring where years of water has trickled down. We can bring in a good contractor to repair and replace all of that. I’d rather put in a whole new system anyway.”

I smiled. I had no desire to take that on, but if we got the right contractor, we could just sit back and watch. I did an inventory of the first floor.

“It’s the same story on the first floor. Both the kitchen and the powder room are outdated and need some structural work. We might as well start fresh. I’d love to design a new kitchen and powder room.”

Matt reported back on the yard. “The outside is awesome. There’s a nice north facing spot that’s dying for a studio. I think we put a separate system out there. I’m even thinking about making the building two stories and using the downstairs for my office.”

I laughed out loud. “Office? Sure, just another term for a man cave. Fine with me. I’d rather not hear the raucous sounds of a large blaring television anyway.”

I pointed back to my house. “I’ll keep my hideaway in my old bedroom on top of my shop. We can still use it as a guest room, and it can be my retreat.”

Matt was enjoying this. “This is win-win, so far.”

We both were smiling as we stood upstairs together. It was large and nicely laid out. There were a sizable bathroom space and a beautiful bedroom with lots of windows and light.

The living room was cozy. It was gorgeous in it’s old Victorian charm. All the moldings were intact. The whole building still had an authentic charm to it.

I looked at Matt and pointed to the two marble encased fireplaces. “Do the fireplaces work?”

“Mrs. McCarthy told me to have them cleaned and fitted with flues before we built a fire in it. But she said it could be quite cozy.”

“We don’t need a living room if we make this all a suite.”

“Where would we entertain?”

“I’m going to design a larger version of what I already have next door with a kitchen and powder room and dedicate half my workspace to a generous conference room. It will be perfect for entertaining.”

Matt nodded. “I like this. I do.”

We stepped outside. “It would be nice to do the yard over so that we can have outside parties and maybe even have a gallery show each spring and fall using the inside and the out. We could do the whole open french door thing. It would be neat to hang some of your modern stuff on fancy Victorian wrought iron right outside under the stars.”

“Stars in Brooklyn?” Matt laughed.

“Okay, how about lights? It could be the whole Italianate patio look with strings of white lights.”

“You mean show paintings right here?”

“Why not? You can paint some smaller works that are reasonably priced to sell to the neighbors, and you wouldn’t have to give fifty percent to the gallery.”

That night, we took Mrs. McCarthy out to dinner. We handed her a deposit check for a hundred thousand dollars. She smiled.

“You know. When John and I bought this in the seventies, we paid fifty-three thousand. We paid off the mortgage long ago. I’m going to sock this away in short-term T-Bills and the market. I’m from the mid-west and love to invest in ninety-day grain futures. Soybeans are going to be up this year.”

Matt said he’d bring the contracts around to her this week.

“Honey, bring it on. I’ve already started to cut back on my wholesale orders. I can be out of here whenever you’re ready. I’m sure you’ve got wonderful plans for the place. I’ve told my kids they can share in the money if they let me come and visit my grandkids. I headed to California first. They have a cute guest cottage out back and told me I can stay for six months.”

We finished up our bottle of wine and all walked back to the flower shop. We stood there while Rita unlocked her door. She smiled.

“I’m so glad you two bought it. The last thing we need in this neighborhood is some outsider coming in thinking that he knows best. We don’t need another latte shop or someone that sells scented soaps.”