Chapter 38 Vivian
Vivian
February
It’s Friday afternoon, the day after her ill-fated trip to Xavier’s jewelry store.
Vivian’s in her own store, trying to keep busy.
First, she rearranges the shelves on a tall cabinet to make room for the antique vases that will soon be arriving.
Then she unpacks the shipments of Herend Rothschild porcelain bowls sourced from her contact in Budapest and breaks down all the boxes.
Monday is recycling day, so she’ll put these aside for the time being.
Vivian’s always been able to compartmentalize troubling things, thanks to her upbringing.
Waspy families have a way of quietly sweeping disorder under the rug.
Yet Rose’s words buzz in her ear like an annoying fly.
You’re not the first girl Peter’s brought round and you won’t be the last. You are pretty, but that will fade.
She hopes there’s a simple explanation for why she spotted Peter yesterday in the street. She keeps checking her phone, waiting for him to text her that he never went on the trip, or that it was delayed. She’s waiting for an explanation that is not forthcoming.
Is Vivian a fool for thinking that she and Peter are exclusive, that she might be special?
And what about Xavier? Is he in some kind of trouble? Rachel’s not overly concerned; she thinks the broken glass in Xavier’s shop window was likely just some accident. But then again, Vivian hasn’t shared the warning note she received, nor her suspicions that Xavier is behind it.
She next opens a box of wax candles from a local candlemaker.
Noting their pastel colors, she’s reminded that she needs to place an order soon with her Italy contact for Francesca Colombo’s Easter plates; they flew off her shelves last April.
Vivian goes to retrieve her notebook of business contacts, but it’s not where she normally keeps it in her desk drawer.
She rummages through her other drawers to no avail. Where the heck did she put it? She tries to recall the last time she used the notebook; it’s been a few weeks. Perhaps she left it at the Chestnut Hill store, though she doesn’t remember bringing it there. It’s possible, though.
Anything feels possible these days. Or impossible.
It’s like life itself has swallowed a giant Xanax.
What if the Knox is bad news—for both her and Xavier?
What if Peter breaks her heart? Deep down, Vivian knows she has done more than just compartmentalize like a WASP.
Since Kat’s death years ago, followed by Vivian’s father’s—and now, with her mom’s looming—Vivian’s locked up parts of herself, put them in storage.
She doesn’t know when—or if—she’ll be ready to unearth them.