Free Death of an Artist by Kate Wilhelm

in his face. No man could be allowed to make that decision, it was hers alone. And it would be soon now, Marnie believed.
    *   *   *
    A S SOON AS Van entered the upper hall in the rear house, she could hear Stef yelling.
    â€œI don’t give a shit about your millionaire fuck! It’s not for sale! And I don’t want to hear another goddamn word about a fucking patron!”
    Van closed her bedroom door, but it didn’t help. Stef’s voice was still there.
    â€œI told you to haul ass out of my life! I meant it, you bastard!”
    There was the sound of something breaking, a glass, cup, something. Hoping it wasn’t a window, Van gathered up a few things she would want ovenight, but with her hand on the doorknob, she paused, listening. Stef was coming upstairs. Sighing, Van backed away from the door and sat on the side of her bed to wait.
    â€œWhat part of no don’t you understand, you bloody idiot? How many times do I have to say it? No! N-O.” Stef ran into the studio and slammed the door.
    Van could hear every word as Dale said in an anguished voice, “Stef, please don’t do this. I’m begging you. I’m sorry I didn’t talk it over with you first. God, I’m sorry. I wasn’t even thinking of selling anything, just to get legitimate offers, so we could go on from there. That’s what this is, a legitimate offer by someone who recognizes your genius. I know I can’t sell anything without your approval. I wouldn’t even consider doing such a thing.”
    He paused, and when there was no response, he said, “Stef, listen a second. I have a duty to protect your work, to protect you. It’s a sacred duty to me. To take a valuable painting like that from a secure place and put it in the shop is too dangerous. There could be a fire, or a maniac could mutilate it. It could be stolen. You’d be devastated if anything happened to it. Or to any of them.”
    He sounded as if he were choking on tears then as he said, “Stef, I can’t stand this. It’s tearing me up. I can’t sleep or eat. God, if only I could take it back, undo it. Please, Stef, please. Give me three minutes, and then if you say get out, that’s it. Please.”
    Stef came out of the studio. “You fool! You said he would be my patron. Now you’re saying it’s not about a sale. You can’t keep your story straight for five minutes. There’s nothing to talk about!”
    Her voice rose as she neared Van’s door, then began to grow fainter as she went down the stairs, calling him names, yelling at him all the way.
    After a few seconds, Van opened her door a crack and peered out. They were both downstairs, Stef still yelling. Van slipped out of her room and fled down the hall to the studio door and out, to return to Marnie’s house.
    *   *   *
    D OWNSTAIRS, S TEF RACED through the living room to the kitchen, back, without a pause in her tirade, and Dale sank into a chair and covered his face.
    â€œJust listen a minute,” he pleaded. “Please calm down and listen a minute. Then I’ll leave if you want me to. Stef, I’d cut off my arm if you wanted me to.”
    She was at the window and turned to face him, but for the moment she became silent.
    His body was shaking as if he were weeping. “It’s been agony thinking you were leaving. I thought you’d be pleased to find out that a multimillionaire had seen your art and thinks it’s the work of a genius. It could be important to have someone like him promoting your art. I know it’s not for sale and I didn’t tell him it was, but he made the offer.”
    â€œYou put price tags on everything in the gallery! Behind my back!”
    â€œI explained, Stef. For insurance, that’s all. You need insurance, darling. For such work to be unprotected is unthinkable. Please sit down and let’s talk about all this. I beg