Page 82 of Seven Summer Weekends

Total Panic

Complete Madness

andSheer Joy

She’d madeSheer Joy—a wild-haired woman dressed in a rainbow, dancing with her arms raised above her head—just the month before, the day after Ben had written,Marry me?in the sand and placed the perfect emerald ring on her finger. It was a surprise, but it also wasn’t a surprise. Their future together had been sealed the day they hung Gicky’s portrait of them over the fireplace. They had barely left each other’s side since.

Today, Ben was coming straight from an interview with a baseball player in Atlanta. Addison tried, unsuccessfully, not to let her brain go toward him and the precarious timing of his arrival. When she saw him across the room, her heart jumped. She wondered when and if that would stop happening.

Ben wrapped his arms around her and whispered in her ear, “So proud of you, baby.”

The sweet, intimate moment was cut short by Kizzy, Lisa, and Pru’s boisterous entrance, with Pru’s husband, Tom, and the metro version of Terrence Williams following staidly behind.

Kizzy squealed at the sight of Addison’s work laid out on bright white rectangular pedestals in the center of the concrete-floored room. Much like Addison herself, some of the pieces were playful and whimsical, and others felt more serious andcontemplative. And while many of the other artists there were displaying works ten times the size, Addison’s women demanded attention.

Addison’s parents soon followed, her mother, like Kizzy, gasping in delight. It was ironic; if Beverly Irwin had been this supportive of Addison’s art ten years earlier, Addison might now be less starving and more artist.

“Hold up your engagement ring in front of your sculptures,” her mother instructed. “I want to take a picture.”

Addison was about to say,Stop!but Ben mouthed, “Just let her,” so she acquiesced.

As soon as Beverly realized that her sister-in-law Gicky was responsible for marrying off her older daughter, she forgave her for absconding with the soup terrine. When Addison had called and said she was engaged, Beverly had looked up toward the heavens and yelled, “I forgive you, Gicky!” at the top of her lungs. She didn’t do it in front of Morty. He would find no humor in it. He was still working through his guilt, and probably would be for a long time.

Addison posed for a few pictures, then warned, “That’s it, Mom. Chill!”

Chillwas usually a trigger word for Beverly Irwin, but she let it go. It was too good a day. Morty stepped in with a kiss for his daughter, followed by a wink.

“C’mon, Bev, let’s check out the other artists.”

Addison paused for a moment to take in the room.

Pru and Tom canoodled in the corner; they were big fans of Lisa’s worksheets. The last time Addison asked, Pru told her they were back to passionately arguing and making up again. They weren’t the only ones to praise Lisa’s method; one of herclients was a bigwig at a publishing house and swore that Lisa’s approach had saved her marriage. She offered Lisa a book deal—andThe Lisa Banks Methodwas set for a late spring pub date. It was already in the top one hundred self-help books on Amazon, a great sign.

Another great sign was the pictures that Kizzy had texted to the group chat just the day before: a photo of her signed divorce agreement followed by a couple of tag choices for Terrence’s new surf-wear line. They all hearted the photo of her new marital status and placed three thumbs-up emojis on the second iteration of the Vagabond Surfer logo.

Finally, Addison landed on CC Ng, deep in conversation with Roberta Smith and Jerry Saltz. The power couple were legendary art critics, Roberta forThe New York Timesand Jerry forNew Yorkmagazine. She feared Jerry would compare her work to souvenir models of Michelangelo’sDavidin a Florentine gift shop. She remembered him making a similar judgment about a sculptor once before. Roberta, she worried, would label them banal.

“Look at the couple talking to CC, are they smiling?” Addison asked Ben, her thumbnail going right to her mouth for the first time in ages.

Ben wrapped his arms around his fiancée’s waist. He knew a thing or two about critics and reviews.

“It’s gonna be fabulous,” he said.

And it was.

•••

First in line at the corner newsstand the next morning, Ben and Sally raced home in the rain to the apartment the three now shared.

Ben called out, “Where you at, nepo baby?” as they entered.

Addison yelled back from behind the bathroom door, “Aah!” before busting out with, “Nepo baby? No way! Let me see that!”

She read the review out loud.

Masterful and exuberant, the newest nepo baby of the art world.

“Aaaah, the irony,” she squealed before continuing.

---