“If it’s a Zakarian, a study like this could fetch more than a hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
“Wow.” The number floored Virginia. It was more than she could have imagined. She took a moment to gather herself. “What if it’s a Darden?”
Janice sat back in her chair and blew out a breath. “Then all bets are off. It means that a little-known female artist had an instrumental influence on the progression of art in the twentieth century. A revelation like that could be incredibly valuable.”
To prove that a woman had been the driving force between two art movements was exciting, and not only because then the watercolor would be worth even more. Virginia had followed with great interest the news coverage of the women’s movement, how the Equal Rights Amendment was certain to be ratified. When Chester made stupid jokes about women marching in the streets, she and Ruby had scolded him into submission.
For more than forty years, Clara Darden had been shoved to the sidelines, overshadowed by a man. Just as Virginia had felt overshadowed by Chester during their marriage. Perhaps this was Virginia’s chance to make something of herself in the wake of Chester’s desertion, and bring Clara out into the light.
“There is someone who could help you figure this out, who knew them both,” said Janice.
“Who’s that?”
“Irving Lorette. He used to run the Grand Central School of Art. I saw him recently at an opening. He and his wife live downtown and are still active in the art world. You could start there, to get a sense of whether Darden and Zakarian knew each other well, get some backstory. They’d be able to point you in the right direction.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Use my name when you do. I have to admit, this is exciting, what you found.” She paused. “Where did you get it again?”
Virginia’s mind went blank. What should she say? That she’d accidentally trespassed into the Grand Central School of Art? The truth was complicated. “Um, an aunt of mine had it for years. We just discovered it after she passed away.”
“Good for her for saving it. When you think of the remarkable works that have been lost to the garbage heap.”
“So true.” In fact, if Virginia hadn’t found the watercolor, it would have eventually been destroyed by a demolition crew. The thought alleviated her guilt a smidgen. Virginia tucked the portfolio under her arm and left, promising to keep Janice in the loop.
“I’m calling for Dennis Huckle, please. It’s Virginia Clay.”
Virginia covered the mouthpiece with her hand as she waited to be connected. Privacy was not an option in the information booth, and she certainly wasn’t supposed to use the phone for personal calls. But she’d been sweet-talking Terrence since she arrived that morning and had delivered the ten-thirty coffees to the staff at ten fifteen, even stealing a couple of sad-looking donuts from the employee kitchen at the back of the Station Master’s Office.
She’d already called the Lorette residence and briefly explained the situation to Mrs. Lorette, who seemed quite kind and set up an appointment for Virginia to stop by on Friday. But that was two days away, and in the meantime she’d decided to reach out to Dennis, stop waiting around for him to call her. After all, she was a modern woman.
This morning at breakfast, her brother and Xavier had cracked each other up, laughing at some story in the paper, and their silly joy had made her miss having a partner. She wouldn’t mind trying another round of sex as well. The first one had stirred up something in her that she hadn’t felt in years. On top of all that, she was dying to show off her new haircut. The crew in the booth had given it two thumbs up. Well, all except Doris, who told her she looked like a boy.
Long lines starfished around the information booth. Thanksgiving was the next day, the concourse brimmed with passengers, and Doris had even put down her nail file in order to keep up with the constant inquiries. These weren’t the regular commuters, who knew where they were headed and wouldn’t be caught dead asking a question. Instead, the terminal teemed with train travel neophytes who showed up at the information booth helpless and harried, unsure of where to buy a ticket or how to get to the correct platform. But the swarm kept Terrence off Virginia’s back for being on the phone twice in one morning.
“Virginia!” Dennis sounded pleased to hear from her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Terrence glanced over at her, and she held up one finger and mouthed, I’ll be quick. A man in line at Terrence’s window rapped on the glass to get his attention, complaining he’d been pickpocketed.
“Hi, Dennis. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“It’s a madhouse up here.”
“Down here as well. Everyone’s heading out of town at once.”
“We’re preparing to file a brief with the court next week, so I’ll be lucky if I get any turkey at all.”
She heard the sound of shuffling papers through the phone. “What are you filing?”
“We’re asking the judge to declare the landmark designation unconstitutional.”
“If you have time for a quick break, I was hoping I might pop up and take a look at the model of the new building, like you’d promised.” She hoped she didn’t sound too needy.
The pickpocket victim spotted a policeman and barreled over to complain to him instead. Terrence peered over at Virginia.
Dennis took a beat. “Sounds great. It’d be nice to see you.”
She hung up the phone, unable to hide the huge smile on her face.
“One of your paramours?” asked Terrence. Totto’s ears perked up, and Winston shifted around so he could keep one eye on his line and the other on what was going on inside the booth.
“No. That was just a friend.” She offered him the last donut, but he shook his head.
“How’s the studying going?” Terrence pointed to the binder.
“Fine.” While she loved the historical summary, the dry facts bored her. “How long did it take you to learn all this?”
“About a week.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Terrence has a photographic memory,” offered Totto. “Sees something once and never forgets it.”
“Do you as well?” asked Virginia.
“Me?” Totto looked confused. “No. Why would I?”
“I thought you were brothers.”
Totto laughed. “You kidding? I’m way better-looking.”
“He is,” added Terrence. “I’ll give him that.”
By now, Virginia knew what to expect from her coworkers: Doris bemoaning her sciatica and the sister-in-law who lived with her and her husband in Queens; Totto’s constant cursing how the city had changed and how rude New Yorkers were these days; Winston missing the warmth of Savannah; and Terrence keeping them all in line. Once she’d gotten over her initial claustrophobia, she’d found it was nice to be with people during the day, even if the job was a bore. Back when her days were wide-open, she’d filled them with nonsense, like committees that accomplished nothing.
She opened the binder but wasn’t in the mood to study. “Terrence, have you heard about this plan to demolish part of Grand Central and put up a skyscraper on top of it?”
Terrence propped up the WINDOW CLOSED sign and directed the next customer over to Totto. “Never gonna happen.”
“What do you mean?”
“This place has a legacy; it’s an important part of New York City’s history.”
“I happen to know one of the lawyers involved in the court case, and he says it’s a shoo-in.” She didn’t mean to sound like such a know-it-all. “I mean, the place isn’t exactly a shining example of New York City anymore. Everyone tries to avoid it if they can.”
She thought Terrence would get mad, as he seemed to take any affront to the terminal personally. But instead, he lowered his voice. “You don’t see it the way I do. You know how when you’ve known someone a long time, you still see them as youthful?”