Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Vivien
“Can I borrow your rental?” My car will be ready tomorrow. I was hoping it would be today, but there was another delay, which means today I have to beg a ride from my sister.
Audrey looks up from the chair by the window, the sun glinting off the nail polish wand paused in the air. “Right now?”
“Did you have plans?”
“I was gonna run an errand.”
“What errand?”
“I need to grab something at the store, but I can take you wherever you need, and I’ll pick you up after. When do you need to leave?”
“Um, maybe whenever you are done with all that.” I wave a hand.
She has a variety of accoutrements set up on the side table with lotions and various vials and nail polishes. I swear she spends more time grooming and primping in one day than I spend in a full year.
Although I’m surprised she is doing this herself and not paying someone else to do it.
She expertly swipes more polish on her thumb. “Where’s Daphne?”
“She had to work out of town.” I sit in the chair across from her.
“Where are we going? To the theater?”
I cross my arms over my chest. I’ve been keeping any and all details that I can from Audrey. She knows we’re staying in Beverly’s home and that I’m managing the theater, but whenever she asks if I’m inheriting it, or if it’s mine, I evade.
I’m sure she’s assuming it’s already mine. I wonder what she’s been telling Mother.
But I can’t really lie, not if she’s going to give me a ride there, after all. “Um, yes.” I do have some work to do before the show this weekend. I haven’t been able to plan any major events, but we are continuing the regular weekly movie nights. “But before that, I need to stop by the school.”
She finishes one hand, inspects her progress and then puts the nail polish away, tightening the lid gently. “Why?”
I offer the bare minimum. “I have to talk to Carter about something.”
“Carter.” Her head tips to one side. “That’s the teacher guy.”
“He’s the principal and yep.” I brace myself for more questions. I bet she is dying to dig.
“Okay.” She blows on her nails. “This is quick drying, so I can be ready to go in just a minute.”
What? That’s it? “Yeah. That’s fine.” I stand up and head upstairs to grab my coat.
Maybe she’s saving the rest of her questions for the ride over.
The roads are clear, with the occasional slowly melting tower of piled snow on the side.
Audrey checks both ways five times before pulling slowly onto the main road.
Has she been driving like an old lady this whole time? I guess it wasn’t so apparent because, until now, we’ve only been going a few blocks back and forth from the theater. When we drove out to move into Beverly’s house, I was on the phone with Moe the whole time asking about my car.
I don’t know why I thought Audrey would be reckless. Maybe because she is with everything else. Friends, guys, money, life in general.
“Why do you drive like a grandma?” I ask.
She glances over at me. “I don’t drive like a grandma.”
“You’re going five miles under the speed limit.”
“Driving is a serious responsibility.”
“Since when are you serious about responsibilities?”
“I’m responsible.”
I huff out a laugh. “Since when?”
Her fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “It’s a recent development.”
I wait for the punchline, but it never comes.
“I’m trying, Vivien, to not be—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. “To be different.”
From Mother.
She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t have to.
Something in my chest tightens. Is she really changing? Can I trust her? Or start to? “I don’t know what to say.”
She flicks on the turn signal and angles into the school parking lot. “I know you think I’m here as her spy or whatever, but I’m not. You can trust me.”
“Can I?”
She rolls to a stop in front of the main entrance. “What Mother does isn’t my fault. She’s not a good person. I am. Or I’m trying to be.”
I stare at her profile. “I know that.”
Her jaw clenches. “Do you? Then why did you leave me with her?”
“What?”
She twists toward me. “I was only a child.”
I’m too surprised to reply. What do I say? I didn’t want to leave Audrey with Mother, but I couldn’t take her with me. And she wouldn’t have come. She was under Mom’s spell. I had to save myself. Maybe that was selfish.
Loud ringing fills the car, the display on the dash flashing Mother’s number. Audrey swipes it away with a quick move of her finger.
I open the door to step out.
“Wait, Viv.”
The phone rings again. “You better get that.” I slam the door shut.
The cold air stings my hot cheeks as I stalk inside. The sun is bright, reflecting against the white snow, and I squint against the glare.
I don’t know why I’m upset. Just because Mom is calling her doesn’t mean anything. But it’s a reminder that it’s always been Audrey and Mother, conspiring against me.
Audrey could be telling her every detail of my life.
I follow the signs to the principal’s office, right off the main entrance. The receptionist’s office is empty, the desk wiped clean, except for a phone and computer. Across from the desk sit a couple of padded chairs for visitors, the arms worn with age and a thousand elbows.
Carter’s door is propped open, and a glass window separates his office from the one I’m in. The low hum of his voice leaks into the quiet room.
“—I understand, Mrs. Donnelly. We will work with him. He’s not in trouble, he just needs a little more support in class.”
A pause.
“He’s a good kid. He has a lot of energy and some questionable timing, but we’ll figure it out together.”
Not wanting to disturb him, I sit in one of the empty chairs and wait.
Carter is handsome. Dark hair, strong jaw, patrician nose softened by the glasses.
Not as handsome as Spencer. Dammit, I was doing so well not thinking about him. I think it’s been at least twenty minutes.
He hangs up the phone. “Hey. Come on in.”
I move into his office, sitting across from him in a replica of the chair I was just in.
“Sorry about that,” he says. “I don’t have much of an admin staff right now, so it’s been nonstop.”
“It’s fine. Thanks for seeing me.”
He leans back in the seat. “What did you need to talk about?”
“I need a favor. Sort of.”
His brows lift, waiting.
“I want to teach a dance class. Here. At the school.”
He sits up straighter, reaching for a pen. “A dance class? I’m not sure that’s in our budget, but I can have the board—”
I wave a hand. “No cost. I would do it for free. It doesn’t need to be ongoing, just one night.”
“Oh. Okay.” He grabs a pad of paper and pulls it to him. “Why?”
“It has to do with Beverly’s last wishes.”
His gaze clears. “Ah. I get it. Spencer won’t tell me anything either.” He taps something on his computer. “Let me get down some of the details here, and then we’ll look at the calendar. So what exactly are you thinking of doing? Any particular age group?”
“No. Any ages. All ages.” I shrug.
“What type of dance?”
“Tap.”
His brows lift. “Is that complicated for a one-time class?”
“Not at all. Only the basic moves. They wouldn’t need special shoes or clothes or anything.”
Beverly would always talk about how there aren’t enough movies with it anymore, not like there used to be. Like Anchors Aweigh, Ship Ahoy, The Little Colonel. Now it’s all Magic Mike and a dozen Step Up movies.
Mother made me do all kinds of dance classes, music classes, singing lessons, and even horse riding because you never knew when it would be needed for a role, but I always enjoyed tap the most because it reminded me of Beverly.
“How long would the class be?” Carter asks.
“Maybe an hour?”
“Is four o’clock okay, during the week? That way the kids can just stay after school ends if they want to participate.”
“Yes. That works. The sooner the better. I have to get it done by the end of next week. Friday at the very latest.”
He makes a note. “I’ll get a signup sheet up tomorrow. We can cap it at twenty, so you aren’t overwhelmed.”
“You really think that many of the kids would be interested?”
“Absolutely. There’s nothing like it here in town. I think we may be letting them down.”
I frown. I didn’t think about that.
“I can help,” a voice chimes from the doorway.
I twist in the seat. Audrey. “You want to help teach kids tap? Do you even know how to tap?”
She fidgets with the strap on her Gucci bag. “Yes. I’ve had lessons in tap, ballet, jazz, and modern. If I help you, more kids could sign up.”
I blow out a breath. “Fine. The more the merrier. Oh, we’ll have a third adult, actually.”
“Who?”
“Graham Deadwyler. I have to check with him before we formalize the date for the class so hold off on the sign-up sheet. I’ll text you later, once I know.”
Carter sits back in his seat. “First you get him to appear in public, and now you’re going to get him to dance? In front of people?”
“Yep.”
He just doesn’t know it yet.
As we leave the school, I direct Audrey to Graham’s. I’ve texted him multiple times over the past few days, but he never replied.
She doesn’t speak, doesn’t mention our fight, and neither do I. I have other things to worry about, and I have guilt pressing down on my chest about what she said. It’s too much to deal with right now.
I open the text thread to read over the one-sided conversation.
Hi Graham, it’s Vivien. I have a proposal for you.
Can you meet me at the school for a dance class sometime this week? It would be an hour tops.
Hello? This is me asking, like we discussed.
Are you alive?
I can’t give Carter a date until I know Graham will be there.
But when we pull up, his house is dark. I stand on the porch for a moment after knocking, listening.
Nothing. No footsteps or shifting floorboards. No annoyed voice telling me to go away.
Just the faint whistle of wind through the trees and the creak of the porch beneath my boots.
I knock again, louder this time, the brass echoing dully against the thick wood. “Graham?” I press closer to the door. “It’s Vivien.”
Unease curls in my stomach.