Where’d She Go? - Part II
About twenty years ago, my husband and I began attending art auctions. We didn’t know anyone and were never included in the post-auction lunch outings, so it was odd when we attracted the attention of a woman who always asked if she could join us for coffee or a meal. In the beginning we were baffled as to why this vague and whispery woman would’ve latched onto us, two unknowns. But we also wondered if she wasn’t aware of a certain hidden fact about us, one that we wanted to keep secret. We’ll never know for sure, because she mysteriously disappeared without a trace.
THIS IS PART 2 of a FOUR-PART STORY
About a week later, I was sitting at my desk in Austin when my cell phone rang. A voice at the other end said, “Mrs. Jeffords, your piece is about to come up.”
Huh? I was completely blank.
And then I remembered. My husband was out of town at the time. (In fact, he was on a plane and I had no way to reach him.) We hadn’t discussed the painting at all, and I had no idea how much money he was willing to spend on it. In my mind, I decided on an arbitrary amount; if it went beyond that, I’d stop bidding. I was shaky and my throat was dry. I’d never dealt with so much money before.
Magically, the bidding stopped just at the amount I’d decided was the most I could spend. I was the new owner of an important painting and without my husband’s okay, I was clueless as to whether I’d done the right thing or not. It was confusing. On the one hand, I felt extremely powerful. On the other, I felt like a dithering idiot. The portrait was of a woman and she had the exact same face as Madame X.
What had I done? I was scared and wanted to dive into bed and hide under the covers. But the painting was mine whether I liked it or not, and I’d have to face the music (my husband said he felt sick when I told him the news). A few weeks later, the painting arrived in a sturdy crate, and we hung it in a prominent place over the couch in our library. We were happy with our new acquisition, but decided to keep the purchase secret as we didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves or our growing collection.
So perhaps it was that, the fact that we owned an important painting, that drew the vague, whispery Andrea Jean Levy to wanting to have lunch with us after auctions.
Whatever it was, we were stuck with her and we had no idea who she really was.