16. Daisy
Chapter 16
Daisy
"Peter said what ?" Vivi exclaims, licking the smoked salt rim from her blood orange margarita.
I look around King's Ransom, the secret speakeasy located behind a false wall of trophy bass fish in Lunker, the bait and tackle shop. Dark and cozy, with velvet textured wallpaper and walnut tables, King's Ransom fits my mood.
Taking a long sip from my second mango margarita, I let the sting soothe my confused soul. It's a drink that isn't on the menu, but the bartender makes it for me because I'm not adventurous enough to try the eclectic drink menu. "Peter said he hates Duke."
"But, how?" Vivi swipes her tongue from one corner of her lip to the other. "He doesn't know the guy."
"That's what I thought, but Penn must've been telling him things when they were serving together. How else could he possibly know anything about Duke?"
Vivi purses her lips and nods. "That must be what it is." She takes another sip, looking thoughtful. "But why tell you?"
I shrug. "I think I poked him until he gave in."
"Poked him about what?"
"Well," I falter, trying to decide how to word it. "He acts different when I talk about Duke, or my engagement. Like he's upset or frustrated or, I don't know, angry."
"Because he was hurt in the past and thinks love is stupid," Vivi says in a way that also says duh . "Takes one to know one."
"That's what I assumed, but it turns out I was very wrong. He does not hate love, but he does hate Duke."
Vivi drums her peach iridescent nails on the lacquered table top, eyebrows tugged in consternation. "Have you asked Duke?"
I shake my head, focusing my gaze on the far wall with its gallery of old-timey Western paintings. "What am I supposed to say? Hey Duke, why does the new guy hate you?"
"Well, umm, yes. Something along those lines."
"I kind of don't want to," I admit, tearing my gaze from a charcoal painting of an old, grizzled cowboy coming from an out house with his pants around his ankles.
"I get that," Vivi nods. "It would probably make things awkward when they don't really need to be. How long is this Peter Bravo guy going to be here? Three more weeks? Four, tops? Why even start something between the two of them, right?"
"Exactly," I nod. But not totally. The other reason is that I don't want to cause trouble for Peter, but buried under that is the truth of the matter: I don't want to cause trouble for Penn.
It might be nothing. Or it might be something, but if Penn has chosen to stay gone, I doubt he wants his old life reaching into his present one. It's best for everyone if I don't repeat what Peter said.
Vivi takes another sip of her drink. "I am curious about something." She lifts her drink in the air, tongue darting out to swipe over the smoky salt. "Why didn't you defend Duke?"
"What do you mean?" Guilt creeps in around the edges. I hate keeping a secret from Vivi. Duke had stressed it was imperative to keep our agreement between us, and he specifically urged me not to tell Vivi. The fewer people who know, the fewer opportunities there will be for word to get out. I'd agreed, but I'm starting to wish I'd insisted Vivi be my exception. Keeping this big of a secret from my best friend is beginning to make me feel ill.
"Well, some guy who is mostly a stranger just said he hates your fiancé. I think that warranted a fuck you at the very least."
"And what did it warrant at the very most?"
"Death," Vivi answers immediately, and without thought. "Mwahahaha."
"No more of those for you," I say, pointing to her drink. "They bring out your evil side."
She tips the glass sideways, considering it. "They kind of do. Let's keep talking about Peter."
I groan. "I do not want to keep talking about Peter."
"Not about what he said. Let's talk about what a fine specimen he is."
"Absolutely not," I say, shaking my head. "It's bad enough I have to hose down Isla every time Peter comes in for a session."
Vivi laughs. "That woman needs to get dicked down, stat."
My eyes widen, and Vivi holds her drink aloft. "It's not my fault," she says, drawing out the last word so it sounds like faullllllt .
I laugh, the kind of deep belly laugh I need. I love this person. She is my ride or die. My soul sister. She's my multipurpose friend, the kind who's down for anything. Run a 5k? She’ll train. Bury a body? She’s on the way with a single-use shovel. Midnight Mass? She'll go to confession the day before, because as she puts it, bitch be sinnin' all the damn time.
"Subject change," I announce. "How are the kids? "
Vivi sighs. "Everly earned time in the calm down corner at school today for calling her classmate a 'fucking idiot', and I got a lecture from the principal about how little ears are always listening."
"How did the principal know Everly didn't learn this language from her father?"
"She ratted me out."
I laugh. "Tell me about my favorite three-year-old."
"And also the only three-year-old you know."
"Very true."
"Knox melted down at my mom's house last week when I came to pick him up after work. He didn't want to leave." Her shoulders sag. I know how much this hurts her, how her mom guilt eats at her. Running a restaurant takes a lot of time and energy from a single mom who's already stretched thin. Carter, Vivi's ex, has the kids every other weekend and every Wednesday night, and even though Vivi appreciates the break, shouldering everything by herself the rest of the time weighs heavy on her.
"Hey," I say softly, pressing a hand to Vivi's shoulder as she stares down into her drink. "He only did that because your mom slips him extra cookies."
She offers me a half-hearted, perfunctory smile. "Right." She leans back on her stool, getting the attention of the bartender and signaling for another drink. "In other news, an unsolved crimes podcaster emailed my brother."
"What?" I blink twice, mouth hanging open. "You really should have led with that."
"It was equally or slightly less important than your news about Peter hating Duke for no apparent reason."
"I disagree. Tell me more."
"Well," Vivi blows out a breath, thanking the bartender with a nod of her head as he sets down her drink. "It's sort of the same old, same old. She wants to interview Hugo, or me, or my mom. But nothing has changed. We still don't know what happened, or who did it."
We were kids, and my own memory of the time is fuzzy in some parts, but I distinctly remember my parents sitting me down on the yellow living room couch with the oversized rose print, telling me in grave tones that one of my classmate's parents had been found dead, and that it appeared to be a murder. Until that day, I thought of Vivi as my classmate with the long and pretty name, who had the best pencils. She also had pierced ears, something I was desperate to have. But now Vivienne had something I absolutely never wanted. A dead father.
My mother instructed me to be extra nice to her and her brother. I did as I was told, inviting Vivi to Spot for a real tea party. A few weeks later, Vivi's mother brought her over, and stayed for afternoon tea. I noticed the uncapping of the metal canteen, but not until I was older did I understand it was whiskey my mother was adding to her tea, and Vivi's mom's also. My mother, with her superhuman ability to be a good listener, opened her ear for Vivi's mom. Vivi and I spent most of our time in the front room of Spot, trying on fancy hats, until I put on one that had a bird's nest glued to the side, complete with three Robin's eggs, and Vivi cracked her first smile since she arrived.
"That hat is so ugly," she said, taking it off my head and putting it on her own head. "I think I'll wear it."
A friendship was born that day, and cultivated over the years, bringing us to now. A single mom of two young children, and a woman who is marrying for everything but love.
"What are you going to do?" I ask Vivi, watching various emotions play out across her face.
"Hugo deleted her email. We've all worked so hard for so long to move past everything that comes with what happened to my dad. We're not going to reopen an old wound just so some true crime podcaster can satisfy their curiosity."
Vivi speaks with conviction, but I know there's a part of her that is desperate to know what happened to her father on that road.
"It's kind of like you, you know," Vivi says, gesturing to me with her drink. "You don't want to look any deeper into why Peter despises Duke, and I don't want to rehash my father's murder. Let sleeping dogs lie, or whatever."
I lift my drink in the air. "To sanity preservation."
"Amen," Vivi says, clinking her glass against mine. Then she looks past my head, her eyebrows raising. "I thought you said Duke had a dinner he had to go to with his dad tonight."
"He did," I answer, swiveling on my seat. I look across the room, to the space where the wall has swung open. Duke stands in the entrance, blinking as his eyes adjust to the dim light of the place. I wave, though the place is small enough that he would have seen us on his own. He starts for us. "I guess the dinner wrapped up and he decided to come. I told him I'd be here with you."
I'm too busy watching Duke cross the room to notice when the wall swings open again, but Vivi's low murmur of oh shit drags my eyes back to the speakeasy opening.
Hugo steps through, Peter by his side.