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CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHARLOTTE
At ten the next morning, Charlotte stood ready by the door, waiting for Dylan to pick her up. She’d always loved art, had dabbled in watercolors but was drawn to big, bold statements in other media.
Dylan was a fun person to be around, which is why he, no doubt, was a bit amused by her obvious attempt to change. That made her feel comfortable with him. She hadn’t put on one of Gran’s T-shirts today. She’d pulled her long hair back into a ponytail. The only makeup she wore was a soft-pink lipstick. She wore a short skirt, a tank top, and sandals on her feet.
He pulled up into Gran’s driveway in his car, and Charlotte hurried out to greet him.
Once she had settled in the passenger seat, Dylan took off, handling the wheel of his red Toyota truck with ease. “Should be an interesting day. The museum is fantastic.”
“It was built a long time ago, right?” said Charlotte.
“Yes, in 1982, but the new building opened in early 2011. Wait until you see it. It’s a simple rectangle that has a large, free-form glass bubble known as the ‘Enigma’ bursting out of it. You’re going to love it.”
“It seems silly that I haven’t been before. At least not in years,” Charlotte said, reacting to Dylan’s enthusiasm. His blue eyes lit with excitement as he glanced at her and back at the road. “What else should I know about the museum?”
“The Enigma pays homage to the dome that adorns Dali’s museum in Spain. Inside there’s a circular staircase. Dali was obsessed with spirals and the shape of the DNA molecule.”
“You certainly know your stuff,” said Charlotte, giving him a bright smile.
He grinned. “He’s one of my heroes. But I promise you I won’t make you stay long enough to see everything. There are over 2,400 of his works on display.”
She laughed. “I’d die of starvation.”
He joined her laughter and then said, “How are things going with the three of you women in Gran’s house?”
“Surprisingly well. We’re different enough to make it work. And we’ve been more or less doing things on our own, so we’re not in each other’s way. Being here for the summer is good for all of us.”
“Yes, I’m finding it that way too,” said Dylan. “I miss the mountains, of course, but I see things from a different angle, if you know what I mean.”
“There’s only one angle in Florida. A 180-degree one. Pretty flat.”
He grinned. “I like you, Charlie. I’m hoping to get to know you a lot better.”
“Thanks, me too,” Charlotte said. It had been such fun to work together on ideas for the upgrades of the Inn.
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As Charlotte approached the museum, she couldn’t stop staring at the light-colored building with the blue glass bubble appearing to burst out of it, as Dylan had described.
“It’s stunning. I’ve seen pictures of it, but they don’t do it justice,” she said.
“I think Dali himself would love it,” Dylan said.
For the next three hours, Charlotte was consumed by the paintings, photos, prints, and other works of Dali. Seeing them made her wish she could talk to him. She saw cards with a few of his quotes. “I don't do drugs. I am drugs.” “Have no fear of perfection - you'll never reach it.” “Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings.”
“Fascinating, isn’t he?” Dylan said, coming up behind her. “Are you ready to grab something to eat?”
Charlotte clasped her stomach as it emitted a distinctive growl.
“Guess you are,” said Dylan, taking her arm. “Let’s go somewhere else. We can return here afterward or come back another time.”
“I’d like to come back another day. My brain is whirling with information and sights. I want time to absorb it all.”
“I agree,” Dylan said, leading her through the crowd.
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