"This is stupid," he said. "Half of these people attending think Art's short for Arthur."
I laughed.
"It'll be nice, Kenneth. Let him make a big deal over you. He wants to do it out of pride."
"Out of guilt," he corrected.
"Yes, maybe guilt, too, but at least he cares, feels remorse. My mother shakes off guilt the way you would shake off a fly."
He turned his eyes to me and smiled.
"You feel sorry for him, don't you?"
"Yes," I said.
He shook his head.
"Don't you understand Haille is the way she is because of what he did?"
"No. Look at what she did to me," I replied. "You don't see me turning into my mother."
His smile softened and widened.
"Talk to him, Kenneth. Just make a little peace between you. It will be good for you as well as him." He grimaced skeptically.
"You said Neptune's Daughter was your greatest work, the work you're most proud of. Let it be a happy time then, from beginning to end."
"Melody, Melody, what am I going to do with you? Despite everything, you keep pushing the gray skies away, searching for that rainbow."
"Help me find it, Kenneth," I replied, my eyes meeting his gaze firmly. He nodded, sighed, gazing at the water and then turned back toward the house. "Come on," he said.
"Come on?"
"You're his granddaughter. You belong in every family discussion now. No more false pretenses among us. That's my only demand," he said. I trailed beside him as he walked toward the house, his home, a place he hadn't been for years, but a place that held all his childhood memories and the memories of his mother.
We entered and he gave me a tour.
"He's kept it pretty much as I remembered it," Kenneth said. He laughed. "My mother and her antiques. Some of these things are worth a lot of money though."
We went upstairs and he showed me what used to be his room. He stood there for a long time, a sad smile on his face. When we descended again, the Judge was standing in the doorway of his office.
"Well," he said, looking from Kenneth to me. "This looks like it's going to be the event of the year, huh? I haven't seen your piece, Kenneth, but Laurence Baker told me it's wonderful. Anybody make a preliminary offer yet? If not, I'd like to make an offer."
"It's not for sale," Kenneth said.
"What?"
"I'm thinking of donating it to the museum after the showing."
The Judge's mouth dropped open. "Why, that's a mighty fine idea, Kenneth. Mighty fine," he said when he'd finally recovered.
"Well, if you were going to sell it, I'd buy it myself," I said, wishing Kenneth would accept money for his creation.
They both looked at me and then Kenneth laughed. The Judge's face broke into a smile, too.
"I bet she would," he said.
"She would," Kenneth agreed. At least they were agreeing on something.