The Cinderella Hour (15 page)

“I’ll bet Noah was pretty happy that you followed in his
footsteps.”

“He taught me a lot.”

“Do you investigate fires, too?”

“I tag along with more seasoned investigators when I have the
chance. It’s what I’ll do when I’m no longer fit enough to fight fires.”

Snow couldn’t imagine an unfit Luke. But with sudden clarity,
and piercing pain, she saw a vital silver-haired man playing catch with an
enraptured grandson . . . and cantering around a sunlit yard with a delighted
granddaughter on his shoulders.

“What is it, Snow?”

“I have to go.”

“All right.” He did, too. He was dying inside, wanting to
touch her, to comfort her. And rage at her? That, too. Why,
why
, had she
abandoned their love? “And Snow?”

“Yes?”

“I won’t press you for an explanation.”

“Thank you.”

“But,” he said softly, “I’ll never stop wanting to know.”

Mira was feeling pretty grumpy by the time Blaine was ready
to leave. It wasn’t because she had been foiled in her attempts to find a
private place for her thoughts. She hadn’t been.

She had, however, failed to retrieve any teenage memories of
overhearing Vivian—or Vivian’s friends—mention either Luke or Snow. It was
possible, of course, that Snow and Luke had been a constant topic of
conversation during Vivian’s senior year at Larken High. The memories still
would not have come. The Larken sisters had led separate lives. And even when she
was within hearing distance of Vivian and her entourage, Mira tended to tune
the chatter out.

Mira was annoyed with herself for being so unobservant in the
past. But it paled in comparison to how annoyed she was with her behavior
tonight.

Her dismay at withdrawing from the parlor in response to
Thomas’s smile was immediate. But she wandered for a while before looping back.
She had a plan by then, proof of the grown-up she ought to be.

On her return to the parlor, she would sashay right over to
the table where Thomas and his admirers sat. When her presence caused Thomas to
suspend conversation, as he had so politely halted it for the waiter, she would
introduce herself.

“I’m Mira. Vivian’s sister. We met very briefly at her
wedding. I doubt you remember. But I got to thinking you probably believed you
were seeing her earlier. Her, not me. It happens all the time. People mistake
me for her—from a distance. I didn’t want you to think she had seen you and
bolted.”

Mira’s plan included joining the foursome, if asked, and chatting
for a while.

Unfortunately, she had waited too long before circling back.
Thomas was gone, although the women were still there.

He never returned.

By the time Blaine found her, to drive her home, Mira’s
annoyance with herself for failing to talk to Thomas was becoming annoyance
with Luke for failing to disclose the missing chapters in the Snow-Luke-Vivian
saga—assuming he even knew them.

“I met Snow,” Blaine said once they were in his car and
heading north.

The storm had arrived. The falling rain made for slow going
in the congested traffic of a Saturday night.

“Oh?”

“She’s remarkable, Mira. Which makes me all the more
concerned about Vivian.”

“I don’t think you need to be overly concerned. Yes, she was
upset. But she’ll work through it. Whatever happened was a long time ago.”

“All the more reason for concern. I mentioned Vivian’s name
to Snow.”

“And?”

“Either she’s the world’s greatest actress or she doesn’t
have the slightest reason to believe Vivian would have any negative feelings about
her. In my practice, I see women who spend their lives pretending to be someone
they’re not. I call them everyday actresses. That’s not Snow Gable. She’s not
hiding anything.”

“Perhaps she unwittingly did something to Vivian.”

“That’s possible, I suppose. We can certainly hope so.”

“What does that mean?”

“That I’m worried Vivian’s perception of what Snow did to her
is just that—a perception.”

“Meaning not real?”

“Maybe not.”

“You’re saying Vivian is delusional?”

“I’m saying I’m worried.”

“Well,
I’m
not.”

“I hope you’re right.” Blaine turned his windshield wipers up
another notch. “I would really like to know how Luke Kilcannon figures into all
of this.”

So would I
. She and Blaine should have been on the same team. Both were
searching for missing chapters. But Mira was in the mood to receive
information, not provide it. “Luke?”

“I may have to meet him one of these days.”

“Because you’ve heard so much about him?”

“Yes.”

“Such as?”

“The fire, of course. In great detail. From the moment you
mentioned you were considering buying the old Kilcannon property, Vivian did
everything she could to enlist my support in convincing you not to. At the time
I thought her objection was elitist, that she wanted you in a more upscale
neighborhood than Pinewood. But it was the property itself that bothered her,
the place where Luke had lived—and nearly died. She hasn’t visited you there,
has she?”

“No. But it’s not like she’s made a habit of dropping by
anywhere I’ve ever lived. What else has she said about Luke?”

“Well, she had some choice words when he declined her
invitation to our wedding.”

“Vivian invited Luke to your wedding?”
And despite our
many conversations about the wedding, including my suggestion that he accompany
me as my “and guest,” he neglected to tell me he had a gilt-edged invitation of
his own?

“She did. As you may recall, she invited most of the town.
But she had a unique reaction when she opened Luke’s RSVP.”

“What did she do?”

“Stared at it. Glowered. Then tore it to shreds.” Blaine shook his head. “Inviting an old boyfriend to a wedding is one thing. Being furious
when he decides not to attend is something else.”

An old boyfriend?
“Did she say why she was so upset?”

“She didn’t want to, but I insisted. I had a vested interest
in knowing that she wasn’t harboring unrequited feelings for another man. She
laughed at that suggestion, then launched into a diatribe about how ungrateful
Luke was.”

“For what?”

“In her view, she had done him a huge favor by inviting him
to the social event of the year. She couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity to
turn it down.”

Mira herself was feeling a little disbelieving. Clearly Luke did
know the missing chapters. Past and present. He had merely chosen not to reveal
them to her.

“Vivian hasn’t mentioned Luke for a while,” Blaine said. “Before
this evening, the last time was when she saw his name in the paper for yet
another rescue no firefighter in his right mind would have attempted. I have to
agree with her that he appears to have a death wish. All the more reason I’d
like to meet him, psychiatrically speaking.”

If anyone disliked being on display more than she did, it was
Luke. But that didn’t necessarily mean he would retreat from Blaine’s scrutiny.
Depending on his mood, he might play along. At least,
her
Luke would. But
maybe that
Luke didn’t even exist—because that
Luke would have told
her, years ago, that he had been Vivian’s boyfriend, and he would have
mentioned, more recently, the wedding invitation he had received.

Mira shelved, for the moment, her thoughts about Luke. Blaine was a fount of new information she wanted to tap.

“What about Snow?” she asked. “Has Vivian ever said anything
about her?”

“Never. Until tonight. Remember what she said about the
obscene phone calls you’ve been getting, that they might be coming from Snow?”

“Of course.”

“Snow is not making the phone calls, Mira.”

Mira heard what he said. It took her a moment to realize what
he wasn’t saying. “You think
Vivian
is?”

Blaine
sighed. “I think it’s possible. That’s my real motivation behind wanting you to
give me a verbatim recap of what the caller said.”

“There is
no way
Vivian would have used the language
the caller used.”

“You don’t know your sister very well, do you?”

“I think you’re the one who doesn’t know her.”

“I know her, Mira. And I love her with all my heart. That’s
why I’m desperate to figure out what’s going on. It’s the only way I’ll be able
to help her get better.”

“Vivian is
not
delusional. And she is
not
making obscene phone calls. Aside from being ridiculous, it makes no sense.
Vivian has no reason to harass anyone, least of all me. She’s beautiful,
brilliant, successful—”

“She has no self-esteem.”

“
What
? Vivian is the most confident human being I
know, and with good reason. I’ll say it again. She’s beautiful, brilliant,
successful. I don’t understand why you’re saying these things, Blaine. But I don’t like it.”

“I don’t like it, either. But what I’m saying is true. There’s
a world of difference between self-confidence and self-esteem. Vivian
is
self-confident. Give her a task and she
will
excel. College. Law school.
The practice of family law. If you asked her in advance if she’d succeed, she
would tell you yes. Vivian believes in what she can do. What she doesn’t
believe in is who she is.”

“She’s told you this?”

“No. And I haven’t broached the subject with her. But I know
what I’m talking about, Mira. It’s often the most outwardly successful women
who have the lowest self-esteem. They measure their worth by what they do, not
who they are.”

Mira had to admit that in all likelihood Vivian used such a
yardstick.

“You, by contrast, have no self-esteem issues.”

“I don’t?”

“No,” Blaine replied. “You’re comfortable with who you are.
You achieve what you want to achieve. You make decisions based on what’s best
for you, not what others expect or want you to do. Vivian would have viewed
herself as a monumental failure if she hadn’t been class valedictorian. You
wouldn’t have cared. You were, though, weren’t you?”

“Class valedictorian? In vet school, yes, but—you make me
sound incredibly selfish.”

“Because you make decisions based on what’s best for you?
That’s not selfish, as long as you’re not making the decisions at someone else’s
expense. Are you?”

“I hope not.”

“I’m sure not. You’re a portrait of vibrant mental health.”

“And Vivian’s not.”

“No. She’s not.” Blaine hesitated. “She has reasons for
making harassing phone calls to you, Mira. You grew up in the same family, but
you have a sense of self, of worthiness, she lacks.”

“You’re saying she’s jealous of me?”

“Yes. My fear is that it’s at a subconscious level. She’s
acting out without knowing why—or worse, without even knowing she’s doing it.”

“This is
crazy
, Blaine. This conversation, not my
sister. Just because Vivian’s a little upset about a high-school acquaintance
returning to town—”

“It’s more than that. It’s many things. What happened this
evening has convinced me that all my love, all my reassurance, isn’t enough.
Vivian needs therapy, from someone other than me. I’m going to find that person
for her. But I’d like a clearer understanding of everything that’s troubling
her before I do.” He glanced at Mira, then back at the rain-slick road. “The
pressure to succeed is obvious. It’s a legacy from Edwin Larken himself. Vivian’s
spent her life trying to overcome the disappointment of not being a firstborn
son. She recognizes that. As you said, she’s brilliant. Her decision to turn
away from the auction-house business once the doors of Larken & Son were
closed shows great strength. She wants to be happy. To make the choices that
are best for her. But she’s going to need help. She’s got mine. I was hoping
she’d have yours.”

“Of course
I want Vivian to be happy.”

“Then help me.”

“How?”

“Go over the obscene phone calls with me. Word by word. I’m
talking about more than an emailed transcript. I want you to tell me about the
caller’s pattern of speech. I know the voice was disguised, and that you feel a
certain discomfort about the subject matter.”

Mira was feeling more than discomfort. The prospect of what
would have to be a secret meeting with Blaine to decipher phone calls that—he
believed—might have come from Vivian felt wrong. Like spying on Vivian. She
needed to think about it. “What else?”

“I’m going to try to get Vivian to tell me what her problems
are with Snow. I’m not sure I’ll succeed. And I doubt Snow can shed any light.
I honestly think she doesn’t know.”

“But Luke might.”

“That’s what I’m wondering.”

“I know him, Blaine. I’ll talk to him.” And, she thought, if
what I learn doesn’t feel like I’m spying on Vivian, I will tell you. “I think
I should also talk to Vivian.”

“I’m afraid that would strike her as odd. And there’s
something else, Mira. Something I’ve been reluctant to mention. From time to
time, Vivian becomes convinced that you and I were intimately involved before
she and I met—and that we still are.”

“You’ve told her—”

“That it’s nonsense? Of course. Repeatedly.”

“That’s why you suggested the obscene phone calls might be
from a woman whose ex-husband I was dating.”

“I wanted to see how Vivian would react.”

“She didn’t.”

“No. She didn’t. But she’s one of those actresses, Mira. She
can hide her emotions when she chooses to.”

I want to talk to my sister. And you can’t stop me.