The Cinderella Hour (11 page)

“Snow?”

“Oh, I . . . no, I’m not.” Because Luke is going to call. He’s
going to sense how much I need him, how much Wendy and I need him. And he’s
going to remember what he didn’t say last night, what neither of us said.

The words
I love you
seemed unnecessary at the time.
But now her thoughts took a sudden turn, a turn of full of dread.
If Luke
doesn’t call, doesn’t sense our need, it will mean he doesn’t love us.

“We have to talk.”

“I’m sorry, Vivian. I’m expecting another call.”

“From Luke?”

“How did you know?”

“It’s Luke I have to talk to you about.”

“Has something happened to him?”

“You tell me, Snow.”

“What?”

“I’ll be outside your house in twenty minutes.”

The spot Vivian chose for their
talk was a short drive away, the place on Meadow View Drive where the two-story
Kilcannon house had burned to ash. The new home, the rambler, had been on the
market for fourteen months. In the past week, a Koenig and Strey
Sold By
banner had been slanted across the sign that read
For Sale.

Vivian set the brake of her silver BMW and handed Snow a
thick envelope.

“What’s this?”

“More than enough money for you to do the right thing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you do.”

“No, I don’t. What does this have to do with Luke?”

“Everything.” Vivian’s sigh conveyed her displeasure at
having to spell out the obvious. “I know about the baby, Snow.”

“How?”

“Trust me, that’s something you don’t want to hear. Just take
the money and do the right thing.”

“I want to hear, Vivian. I have to. Please.”

Vivian sighed again. “Oh, all right. I guess I can be a few
minutes late for the brunch. After Luke took you home last night, he returned
to the ball to see me.”

“He had to get to Noah’s. When he left my house he only had
thirty minutes to make his curfew.”

“That silly thing? You can’t believe he’d get kicked off the
team for something as trivial as that. He’d gotten permission from the coach
anyway. Everyone knows the Glass Slipper Ball doesn’t end until one. The coach thought
he was making the exception for you. He didn’t know that Luke had no intention
of being with you after midnight—not when he believed he could be with me. I
can assure you, Snow, I had no idea what Luke was planning. I suppose I should
have. Should have suspected, at least, that he might take advantage of a night
when my boyfriend was out of town. Harrison flew to L.A. yesterday, with the
rest of the swim team, and I was playing Fairy Godmother here. Luke wanted to
be my Prince Charming again. It was fantasy, of course. Luke knows I’m with Harrison. I’ve told him that a thousand times since I broke up with him last fall. But hope
springs eternal, doesn’t it? For every one of the thousand times I’ve told Luke
that it’s over between us, he’s told me how much he loves me. That’s what he told
me last night. He also shared the awful news. I’m talking about the baby.”

Awful news? Wendy?
“Luke wants the baby.”

“No, he doesn’t. I’ve never seen anyone as upset as Luke was
when he told me. He hated having to tell me. He felt as if he’d betrayed
me
by being with
you
. He kept saying he wished I was the one who was
pregnant with his baby.
Me
, Snow, not you. I’m sorry. I’m sounding
harsh, aren’t I? But you know what? I’m angry that you did this to him, that
you
trapped
him like this.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Oh, please. Nobody gets pregnant by accident these days, and
you of all people should know how to prevent it.”

“Me of all people?”

“You know what I’m talking about. Really, Snow, don’t try
your Little Miss Innocent act with me. You know what your mother does. What she
is
. Quail Ridge’s very own whore. Luke has always been embarrassed for
you because of her. He’s felt sorry for you. Pitied you. But you’re no better
than she is. Like mother, like daughter. At least your mother has the class not
to get pregnant. I can’t believe I just put
class
and
Leigh Gable
in the same sentence.” Vivian gave a disgusted shake of her head. “I remember
being outraged that any wife would tolerate her husband’s affair. But when I
broke up with Luke, I needed you for the same reason the wives of Quail Ridge
need your mother—to fill in sexually when there’s something they cannot or will
not do.”

“You needed me?” For
that?

“Yes. I knew I was going to be with Harrison for senior year.
Harrison wanted me to tell Luke before classes began. But I thought it would
be good for Luke, would elevate him in the eyes of Larken High, if people saw
us together at school for a week or so. It would validate what a desirable
boyfriend he could be. I like Luke, Snow, and I admire him for what he’s overcome.
I’ll also never forget the sexy, romantic summer we had. I was pretty sure Luke
wouldn’t want to date any of my friends. It would be too painful, I knew, for
him to be that close to me. But there would be plenty of other girls who’d happily
take Luke’s mind off our breakup—especially once they realized how much I’d enjoyed
being with him. Thanks to you, I was able to break up with him on the first day
of school. There you were, infatuated with him. It was perfect. You would adore
him when he needed adoring, and, like your mother, you’d provide a sexual
outlet for him while he was in withdrawal from the great sex he’d had with me.
I encouraged him to go to you. I assumed it would be safe. I had no idea your
obsession with him would extend to getting pregnant on purpose.”

“I didn’t!”

“Of course you did. I blame myself for what’s happened, how
you’ve ruined his life. You have, you know. I’m not just talking about becoming
a father when it’s the last thing in the world he wants to be—for
your
baby, anyway. You think any halfway decent college will offer him a scholarship
when they learn he’s impregnated a fifteen-year-old?”

“I—”

“Then there’s the possibility of prison.”

“
Prison?
”

“It’s called statutory rape, Snow. Don’t pretend you haven’t
heard of it. As unfair as it is, there are people in this town who believe Luke
murdered his father. This will give them—
you
will give them—a golden
opportunity to put Luke where they’ve wanted him all along. I even know of one
cheated-on wife who’s mad enough at your mother that she might enjoy hurting
her and you by hurting Luke. I’ll do what I can to prevent Lacey’s mother, or
Lacey herself, from calling the police. But I can’t guarantee that I’ll
succeed. Your mother destroyed Mrs. Flynn’s marriage and Lacey’s family.”

Snow fought a gasp of pain, an aching that surpassed even the
emotional anguish she felt. The new pain was a cramping in the place where, an
hour before midnight, joy had fluttered.

Snow took deep breaths, and the cramping began to subside.

“You can give Luke back the life you stole from him, Snow.
That’s why I’m here. I’m begging you to. I’m not in love with him. Now that
Harrison and I are together, I realize I never was. But I care about Luke’s
future—for him, not for me. I want him to be as happy as he can be without me.
And trust me, Snow, giving up everything to spend his life with you and his
unwanted baby is
not
the way for him to be happy.”

“How can I give Luke back his life?”

“By taking this money and doing the right thing.”

The right thing.
The cramping returned with a vengeance.

“Having an abortion?”
Killing Wendy?
“Is that what you
mean? You think that would make Luke happy? Did he tell you that’s what he
wants me to do?”

Vivian hesitated. “No, he didn’t tell me that. He’s prepared
to take full responsibility for the mistake he’s made. What he wants is that
your pregnancy hadn’t happened . . . didn’t exist. It was really hard for him
to admit that even to me, and it’s something he would
never
say to you.
He has no idea I decided to talk to you and would be furious if he knew. He’s
planning to do the honorable thing for you and the baby. He likes you. Feels
sorry for you. And, in spite of what you’ve done to him, he doesn’t want to
hurt your feelings. But how hurt do you think you would feel if, twenty years
from now, you discovered he’d been resenting you,
pitying
you, all that
time? This is between us, Snow. We both care about Luke. We both want what’s
best for him. Don’t we?”

She was breathing. The pain was receding again. “Yes, but . .
.”

“Take the money. Do the right thing. There’s enough money in
the envelope for you to leave Quail Ridge, find a home for unwed mothers, and put
the baby up for adoption once it’s born. You’re smart, Snow. You can give Luke
back his life and give yourself a future, too.”

Snow imagined the fluttering . . . imagined Wendy swimming
like Luke.

But she couldn’t
feel
it.

“I have to go.”

“Take the money, Snow. Please.”

“I don’t need it,” she said, opening the door.
Wendy and I
will be fine
.

Snow watched Vivian speed away.
Many minutes later, she looked at the house across the street from where she
stood. If Mrs. Evans was home on this Sunday morning, she wasn’t looking out
her window.

Snow could drop by, though, and explain that she had been so
embarrassed by Luke’s refusal to accept her letters, after all Mrs. Evans had
done to help her send them, that she had felt uncomfortable seeing her once she
left Pinewood Elementary for Hale. Now she was back, having misinterpreted Luke’s
feelings for her yet again. There had been a little reciprocity this time.
Enough to get her pregnant. She remembered Mrs. Evans’s sadness when she talked
about the babies she couldn’t have and wondered if she would like to adopt the
baby Luke didn’t want.

Most of Snow believed every word Vivian had spoken. It
explained her dread, and why Luke hadn’t said
I love you
last night, and
why he hadn’t sensed how much she and Wendy needed him today.

But a tiny part of her clung to the memory of how Luke had
looked at her when she told him she would marry him.

Instead of knocking on Mrs. Evans’s door, Snow made the
journey Luke had made so many times, from Meadow View Drive to the forest where
they had become best friends and blood friends, and where, on an autumn
afternoon, they had created a new life.

Vivian had told her Luke had no idea she planned to talk to her,
that the plan, like the money in the envelope, was entirely hers.

It wasn’t true. Luke’s walking-away money was gone. The glass
jar had been emptied of its every coin and all its bills. When Luke had kissed
her abdomen, kissed Wendy, he had been saying goodbye. Farewell, little Wendy.
I would have loved you, wanted you, if you had been Vivian’s daughter, not Snow’s.

Maybe, when he had taken the money, he had planned to ask
Vivian to leave Quail Ridge with him. But when she said no, they hatched the
plan Vivian had carried out today. She would pretend to be acting on her own.
That way, should Snow refuse to do the right thing—thus forcing Luke to keep
his pledge to marry her and care for his child—she would never know he had wanted
her to give him back his life as much as Vivian did.

Luke had told her the money in the jar was hers. In case she
ever needed it.

Snow hadn’t come in search of it today. She had simply
removed the jar from its hiding place, as she always did when she needed to
feel close to Luke and he wasn’t here.

But Luke
had
been here. Last night. The jar proved it.
The coins and cash were gone, but the container wasn’t empty. Her Glass Slipper
Ball dance program lay within, its charm sparkling like a sapphire star.

It was a twist on the fairy tale. The prince had fled from
Cinderella. And, to quash any fantasy she might have that he would spend his
life searching for the woman to whom the lost glass slipper belonged, he left
her missing shoe behind.

Snow shivered as she withdrew the charm from the jar and put
it in her pocket. She was
so cold
.

Wendy was cold, too. And getting colder.

Snow ran, stumbling as she had stumbled on that long-ago
Christmas Day.

She had been running toward a wounded creature then. Toward
Luke. Toward love.

Now she was the wounded creature, and running out of the
ravine. But running where?

Sunday,
January
15

Sixteen
years ago

2
:
00
p.m.

Snow’s initial emotion on entering
the living room of her Dogwood Lane home was elation.

Her mother was throwing a bridal shower for her. That
explained the boxes and boxes of beautifully wrapped gifts. There was a sameness
to the boxes. Each was the shape and size of a brick.

This was where she had been running to, this surprise party
that Leigh, a wedding planner after all, had arranged. Vivian, too, must have
had a role in the surprise: to lure Snow away from the house while the other
guests arrived.

My goodness! Snow could almost hear one of those guests,
Lacey Flynn, declare. What did Vivian tell you? Whatever it was, it worked. You
look positively shocked.

Lacey would dismiss Vivian’s claim of an impending Flynn
divorce brought on by her father’s infidelity with Leigh. Are you kidding? Our mothers
are thick as thieves. My mother couldn’t be happier that your mother’s willing
to serve up items from a sexual menu she would rather die than provide.

Snow’s elation, her fantasy, was short-lived. Leigh’s clothes
wouldn’t have been strewn over the furniture if a bridal shower was in the
works. Nor would a mountain of luggage, with sales tags still attached, have
appeared beside the television set. And there wouldn’t have been additional
suitcases open on the carpet waiting to be filled.

Leigh had obviously been in the midst of packing—why?—when
her phone had rung. As Snow walked farther into the living room, she saw Leigh
in the adjacent dining room. She was seated at the table, her back to Snow, as
she took the call.

Or made the call. Leigh glanced at a sheet of paper as she
spoke, reading from it like an actress reciting from a script.

Cigarette smoke plumed above Leigh’s head and, as Snow
watched, she reached for the last can from a six-pack of beer.

Snow didn’t need to hear the prepared dialogue to understand
that Leigh’s Quail Ridge life, like Snow’s, had come to an end. Had Lacey
Flynn, or Lacey’s mother, already made the call Vivian had hoped to prevent?
Was Luke Kilcannon about to be charged with statutory rape?

If so, Leigh’s response was motherly and generous. Rather
than let Luke go to jail, and imprison Snow, too, in years of remorse, Leigh
was going to take the only evidence the police had—her underage daughter—away
from Quail Ridge.

They were leaving. But as she listened to Leigh’s words, Snow
heard another reason, a stunning one, for their flight.

“He’s been in a coma all these years. He’s in California, in his parents’ home, receiving round-the-clock nursing care paid for by the
wealthy family of the girl whose life he saved. He was with us for a while, in Atlanta, but his parents and I decided it would be better for Snow to believe he was dead.
Now, after all these years, he’s waking up. I have no idea what will come of
it. No one does. The doctors can’t predict how completely he’ll awaken, or how
much he will remember when he does. But Snow and I have to be with him. We
want
to be. And, no matter the outcome, we won’t be coming back. We’re leaving
tonight, flying out before the storm. I’m rushing around to get ready, but I
wanted to let you know, and to tell you how much I’ve enjoyed our time together.
. . . Yes, I do know that. Thank you. And goodbye.”

Not realizing Snow was home, Leigh started to place another
call.

“He’s alive?”

Leigh replaced the receiver, took a long drag on her
cigarette.

“Your father? Oh, yes. The son of a bitch is very much alive.”
She swiveled in her chair, exposing her face. Dark bruises lined her jaw. The
bruising was symmetrical, as if she had been pinioned in a vice, its crushing
force halted only when her bones threatened to shatter. Leigh’s expression
confirmed that a torture of some kind had occurred. “Unfortunately, he’s not in
a coma in California. Or anywhere. I wish he were. What’s going on with you?
You look as awful as I feel.”

Snow could barely register the fact that Leigh had chosen
this moment of all moments to notice her daughter’s pain. “Where is he?”

“Way
too close for comfort.” Leigh touched her jaw. “As you can see.”

“He did that?”

“Yes.” Leigh flinched as she applied slight pressure to a
bruise. “He did. He was trying to get me to see eye to eye with his plans for
me.
Bastard
.”

“Who is he?”

“No one you’re ever going to know—or who is ever going to
know you’re his. That’s why I’m making these calls, to keep alive the fable
that you’re the daughter of an Atlanta cop I married.”

“Is he a cop?”

“No.”

“Will you tell me about him?”

Leigh looked past Snow to the gaping suitcases, the
strewn-about clothes. The prospect of packing exhausted her. She hadn’t slept.
She ached. And her choices had run out. A few more cigarettes might energize
her. The nicotine rush. And another beer or two couldn’t hurt.

“Sure.” She lit a new cigarette with a dying one and reached
for the unopened six-pack at her feet. “Why not? We met three months after I
arrived in Chicago. I was working as a stripper for bachelor parties. It was a
great job. Easy money. Drunken men admiring my body and throwing money my way.
Rich
drunken men on that first Friday night in June. The bride was from Highland Park. Her groom and his buddies were from Boston. They all had suites at the
Drake. The party was held in the groom’s. It was routine as far as I was
concerned, and it paid better than any of my previous gigs. The only unusual
thing was that one of the groomsmen declined to take part in the fun. He seemed
bored by it all. He didn’t even drink. He spent the evening leaning against the
wall, watching me. As I was leaving, he followed me into the hallway and asked
if I would be interested in a private performance. He was attractive, rich,
sober. Having sex with him was fine with me as long as he paid.”

“Did he?”

“Oh, yes. An incredible amount from my perspective. A trivial
amount from his. He also treated me to a small fortune in cocaine. A blizzard
of it.” Leigh paused, as if waiting for a reply from Snow. When none was
forthcoming, she continued, “The best cocaine money could buy. I’d never used
coke before—or since.”

“You didn’t like it?”

“I probably did at first. Maybe for the entire time. I don’t
remember. That’s why I’ve never used it again. I don’t like not remembering
what I’ve done. I’m not even sure cocaine is supposed to do that to you. I’ve
wondered if there were other drugs mixed in.”

“Did something bad happen?”
Other than getting pregnant
with me?

“Before last night, I would have said no, although my actions
at the time said the opposite. Within days of the bachelor party, I quit the
stripping service, changed boarding houses, and took on the first of my
Gone
With the Wind
identities. I must have sensed his violence. How violent he
could be. I didn’t have bruises then, but somehow I knew what he was capable of,
especially when he didn’t get his way.”

Leigh lifted her blouse, revealing her battered rib cage. “Meet
your father, Snow. This is as close to him as you will ever be. We’re leaving.
I had Main Street Luggage deliver enough cases for both of us. A limo will be
here at six. We’ll decide what flight to take, where to go, when we reach the
airport. Anywhere but Chicago is all that matters tonight.”

“So he lives in Chicago now. Not Boston.”

“He does. I didn’t know it, but he’s lived here for a while.
It’s not something I could have found out, even if I’d wanted to. Until last
night, I didn’t know his name. But there we were, at the same party.”

“It made him mad to see you with another man.”

“He didn’t see me with another man. I was by myself. Greg
Flynn wanted me there, even though he was with his wife. It wouldn’t have
mattered if I’d been with someone else, or even if I was married. Your
father—why don’t we just call him the psycho?—would have behaved like he owned
me.” Leigh stubbed out her cigarette, forgot to light another. “A month after
our night together, he made a trip from Boston to look for me. But the stripper
he’d known as Candy had, of course, already disappeared. When he told me about
it last night, he was angry. Like I had no right to be unavailable to him then.
Or now.”

“And now he’s found you.”

“He doesn’t have my unlisted number yet, or our address. But
he will. I can’t get involved with him again. That’s why we have to leave.”

“That’s why you have to leave.”

“I think we both should.”

“You said he doesn’t know I’m his.”

“He doesn’t. I told him I moved to Atlanta a week after the
bachelor party, met and married a cop, and a year later had a child.”

“Do I look like him?”

“Not at all. You don’t look like either of us.”

“So I could stay.”

“You could, and it would probably be all right. But there’s
something else, Snow. The whatever-it-was that made me make sure he couldn’t
find me sixteen years ago. When I saw him last night, I had the same impulse to
run from him, to hide from him, as I did then. Unfortunately, he had already
seen me.” Leigh shook her head. “I have no idea what happened on that night on
coke. I’m wondering if it was something he told me. It must have been. Hearing
his voice again was . . . chilling. Really. I felt ice cold. Even if I could
find a way to remember what he told me, I wouldn’t want to. I know he’s
violent. That’s enough. We should pack.”

“You must have been upset when you learned you were pregnant
with me.”

“What?”

“Were you?”

Leigh’s slight smile lifted the bruises along her jaw. “Extremely
upset. What an idiot I was to have had unprotected sex.”

“Did you think about having an abortion?”

“No.”

“Giving me up for adoption?”

“Where are these questions coming from? No.”

“Why not?”

“I just never did.”

“Having a baby can’t have been something you wanted. You came
from a family with too many children and not enough food.”

“You’re right. It’s something I’d never wanted. But there I
was. Pregnant.” Leigh didn’t shrug. Her bruised ribs warned her not to. “That’s
the way it was.”

“I have to stay in Quail Ridge,” Snow said.

Leigh didn’t answer right away. Leaving Snow in Quail Ridge
wasn’t what she had planned, or would have chosen. But . . . “You’re almost the
age I was when I began living on my own. I guess if you want to stay, you can.
But remember that I have excellent instincts when it comes to men. Bad men,
especially. I knew to hide from your father. I was also dead right about Jared
Kilcannon—and, if I’m not mistaken, about Luke.”

“
No
. Luke is not like his father.”

“So why do you look as if you’ve lost your only friend? If
you’re staying in Quail Ridge because of Luke, Snow,
don’t
.”

It was good advice. Vivian would have been thrilled. And
Luke? Would it have thrilled him, too? Yes. Luke most of all. That was what
everything—from her dread when she awakened, to Vivian’s revelations on Meadow View Drive, to the looted glass jar in the forest—was telling her.

But Snow wasn’t going to leave until she heard the truth from
Luke himself, when he called, as he had promised he would, on Tuesday night.

“I can’t leave.”

“And I have to,” Leigh said. “I’ve already left a message for
the leasing agent, so you’ll need to let her know you’ll be staying. The lease
is paid through the month, and there’s more than enough cash in the envelope I’ve
put on the kitchen counter to cover the other bills. I told the leasing agent
to keep any leftover money. I also told her to help herself to whatever we
leave behind before giving the rest to charity. You might tell her she can have
my clothes, if you don’t want them.”

“Okay.”

“Speaking of cash, you won’t have to strip at bachelor
parties to make ends meet. See these boxes? Each one contains twenty-five
thousand dollars in hundred-dollar bills. The wedding paper’s a nice touch, don’t
you think?” She gestured toward the many beautifully wrapped boxes. “Help
yourself.”

“I might take a little money. But I’d never need twenty-five
thousand dollars.”

“Never say never, Snow. And you know what? I think I’ll leave
all but one of the boxes with you. I’ll want some cash to get me to wherever I’m
going. Once I’m there, I can tap into the accounts I have in various banks
around the country.”

“I can’t accept one of these boxes, much less—”

“Sure you can! Even before you became a partner in my Quail
Ridge business, which is where all this money comes from, you were responsible
for keeping me alive.”

“I was?”

“Definitely. My encounter with the psycho really upset me. At
the time I thought it was the drugs. Now I’m thinking it was whatever it is I
can’t remember. I was actually considering suicide—I kid you not—when I
realized I was pregnant. That,
you
, gave me a reason to live. And since
my body wasn’t going to be a moneymaker for me during my pregnancy, I
discovered the income possibilities of phone sex. And when I decided to go into
business for myself in Quail Ridge, you helped me perfect my Southern belle
language and manners.”