True Colors (16 page)

So Vivi Ann was on Main Street with her sisters, going over the final details. There were people everywhere, hanging banners, putting up signs, setting up booths, and the police were beginning to block off various streets for Sunday’s parade. Down at the end of the street, the band was warming up. “Testing one, two, three . . .” rang through the darkness.

Vivi Ann had done it all a hundred times, and yet tonight it grated on her, irritated her. The band was too loud, the to-do list too long, and Winona was watching her every move like a lioness on the hunt in tall grass.

“What?” Vivi Ann finally snapped at her.

“You’re a little testy today,” Winona said. “Luke says you never want to talk about the wedding. Why is that?”

“Why do we always have to talk about Luke?” Vivi Ann said. “I’m sick to death of wedding plans and I’m sick of your constant nagging. Go find yourself a damn boyfriend and leave mine the hell alone.”

“Maybe you’re the one who should leave Luke alone.”

Aurora was between them in an instant, the referee. “We’re in public, you two.”

“But Vivi Ann loves to be the center of attention, don’t you, Vivi?” Winona said.

Vivi Ann couldn’t take this crap now. “Look, Win—”

“No,
you
look. You just take and take and take, and you don’t think about anyone else, do you? You don’t care about anyone except yourself.”

“Winona, don’t,” Aurora warned.

“Don’t what? Don’t tell Miss Pearl Princess the hard truth?” Winona looked at her. “You’re spoiled and you’re selfish and you’re going to break Luke’s heart and you don’t even care. And then he won’t be able to love anyone else, because
you’ll
always be there first.” On that, Winona turned on her heel and shoved her way into the crowd, disappearing.

The accuracy of Winona’s attack left Vivi Ann shaken. “She’s right,” was all she could say when it was over. She felt sick to her stomach; ashamed and afraid.

“I know she didn’t mean all that. I’ll go talk to her.”

Vivi Ann knew she should go with Aurora, find Winona and work this out, but God help her, when Aurora said, “We’ll meet you at the street dance,” Vivi Ann thought of Dallas.

She knew where he would be. He spent his Friday and Saturday nights at Cat’s. Everyone in town knew that. The gossip was that he played a mean game of poker, and that he outdrank every man there.

“You should go to the street dance,” she said aloud after Aurora had left. But she couldn’t follow her own advice. The need for him was a fire in her blood. She started walking toward the waterfront, trying to keep in the shadows. Fortunately there was so much going on in town that no one seemed to notice her.

At the end of the alley, Cat Morgan’s house sat like a drunken old man on the edge of the sea, leaning and haggard-looking. The porch was askew, the windows still duct-taped. But she could see the party going on inside; shadowy people danced in front of the open windows. Music—AC/DC or maybe Aerosmith, something with a thudding beat—pulsed so loudly she could hardly hear the waves slapping at the bulkhead.

Vivi Ann had never in all her life gone up to the front door of this house. There were two kinds of people in Oyster Shores: those who went to church on Sundays and those who partied with Cat Morgan. This house was off-limits to people who cared about their reputation. From the moment Cat had first come to town about ten years ago, she’d carved out this place for herself on the fringes of respectable life. Everyone knew she hosted parties with booze, sex, and drugs, but she paid her taxes and stayed where she belonged: in the dark. Mothers used her as a cautionary tale with their impressionable daughters. Watch out for boys and booze or you’ll end up like Cat Morgan.

Steeling herself, Vivi Ann crossed the uneven, scrubby patch of lawn and went up to the front door.

“Tell me that ain’t Vivi Ann Grey comin’ up my steps.”

The shadows on the porch were so thick that it took Vivi Ann a moment to make out who had spoken. Then she caught a glimpse of fake reddish hair.

Cat stood in the corner of the porch, smoking a cigarette. Dressed in tight black jeans and a tuxedo jacket cinched at the waist with a glittering silver belt, she looked like she belonged on an
Urban Cowboy
soundstage. Shadows accentuated the lines on her face. Vivi Ann had no idea how old she was—maybe forty?

“I’m . . . uh . . . looking for Dallas Raintree. He works for me. We have a sick horse.”

“Sick horse, huh?” Cat took a long drag on her cigarette and exhaled smoke. “I think you’d need a vet for that.”

“Would you mind getting him for me? I’m in kind of a hurry.”

Cat eyed her for a long moment, then finished her cigarette and put it out. “I’ll tell Dallas about the sick horse. I’m sure he’ll come a-runnin’. That man has a soft streak for animals.”

Vivi Ann thanked Cat and walked back through town to her truck, then drove home and parked deep in the trees by his cabin.

In Dallas’s bedroom, she stripped out of her clothes and climbed into bed, waiting impatiently.

Only a few minutes later, she heard a truck screech to a stop outside, then a metal door banged shut.

Dallas pushed open the cabin door so hard it cracked against the wall, making the whole room shudder. “What in the
hell
were you thinking?”

“I told her I was looking for you. What’s wrong with that?”

“Get out of here, Vivi. We’re done.”

She didn’t understand. “Why are you being like this?”

“Just leave, Vivi. I got enough regrets.”

She climbed out of bed, followed him, grabbed his arm. “Dallas, please—”

He grabbed her wrist so tightly she felt it bruise. “Go back to Khaki Ken and the church group and all those people you care about.”

“What if I care about you?” The question was out before she could stop it.

“Don’t be a fool, Vivi Ann.”

“I love you, Dallas.” For the first time in her life, those words came effortlessly.

“Ah, Vivi,” he said, gentling his hold. “You’re so naïve . . .”

She smiled up at him, knowing what she had to do now. Those words had changed everything, just as they were supposed to. “Kiss me, Dallas,” she whispered. “You know you want to.”

On this first night of Oyster Days, the streets were crowded with people, tourists and locals alike. A band was set up in the bank’s parking lot. The stage was elevated, allowing the musicians to look out over the throng dancing to their music, all the way to the row of food and craft vendors, to the lights along Shore Drive.

Winona was trying to be a good sport, but she was so angry that even dancing with Luke was no fun.

“Do you think I should take waltzing lessons for the reception?”

She rolled her eyes at that. “Have you had any indication that Vivi gives a shit about this wedding?”

“She’s not one for ceremonies. She likes quiet events.”

“Are you kidding me?
Vivi?
” Before she could say more, someone pushed up between them.

“Sorry, guys,” Julie John said. “Our foal, Peanut, is colicky, I think. Kent is walking him, but we’re worried. I’m sorry, Luke. I know you’re having fun, but—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I can be at your house in fifteen minutes. Tell Kent to keep up the walking. Whatever you do, don’t let Peanut lie down.” He turned to Winona. “Tell Vivi I’ll come find her when I’m done.”

After they left, Winona stood there staring out at the crowd, feeling more alone than should have been possible in this town of hers.

“There you are,” Aurora said a moment later, coming up beside her. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Trying to make peace again, Aurora? I think you’re in the wrong family for that.”

“You can’t keep going like this, Win. We’re falling apart because of you.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” Winona said, feeling as if the admission were tearing something inside of her, something that had always been intact before. “She’s my sister, and I love her, but . . .”

“You love him, too. I know. But you have to live with it somehow. You chose this.”

Winona shook her head. “Not this. If she loved him, I could accept it. I could maybe get past it.”

“Could you?”

She pulled away. “I’m out of here. Tell Luke and Vivi Ann I said good luck and have fun.” She was running now, feeling the start of tears.

What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she let go of this? The jealousy was killing her and hurting the thing she cared most about: her family.

I’m worried about what you’ll do
. Aurora had voiced that fear long ago, and it came back to Winona now.

“Winona?” someone called out.

She came to a breathless stop on the sidewalk and wiped her eyes, then turned—smiling—toward the speaker.

Myrtle Michaelian stood there. “Your father is making a scene at the Eagles Hall. I think someone should drive him home.” Myrtle frowned at her. “Are you okay, honey?”

Winona swallowed hard. “Sure, Myrtle. Why wouldn’t I be?” She turned away and walked briskly toward the Eagles. Before she’d even stepped through the door and into the smoky interior, she heard her dad telling one of his many Vivi-Ann-is-perfect stories in a slurred voice.

“Come on, Dad,” she said, taking his arm. “It’s time to go home.”

He was too drunk to put up much of a fight. She guided him out of the building and into her waiting car. “You should cut back on the whiskey, Dad.”

“Saysh the girl who eats everything in sight.”

Winona said nothing more to him on the drive to the ranch. There, she helped him into his room, watched him collapse on the bed and start snoring.

“You’re welcome,” she said, pulling off his boots and covering him with a blanket.

Sighing, she left the house and returned to her car. As she drove up past the barn, she noticed Vivi Ann’s truck parked deep in the trees by Grandpa’s cottage. Dallas’s truck was there, too.

If the moon had been smaller, or its light muted by clouds, she might not have noticed it at all. No one would.

Winona slammed on the brakes and sat there, staring at the trucks parked side by side. In that moment, memories locked into one another, brushstrokes of color formed a solid image. She remembered several times Vivi Ann had been missing or hadn’t shown up as she’d promised to. And all the while Luke waited for her, trusting her.

Could it be that Vivi had lied to them all?

The kiss
. Had it been the start of something?

Driving onto the grassy road, she parked up beside the trucks and went to the front door, opening it without a knock, calling out, “Hello?”

She saw them in a rush of images: Dallas, naked in the bed, lying on his side . . . with a chest full of ugly, misshapen scars, and a tattooed arm slung possessively around her sister. Even from here, she could see the way they looked at each other, touched each other; the whole cottage smelled of sex and lust and candle wax.

He sat upright at her entrance, looked right at Winona.

Vivi scrambled to cover her nakedness. “I can explain.”

Winona wanted to laugh. She held it back by sheer force of will. This was it. The end of Vivi and Luke. “Really? I doubt that.”

“She won’t understand,” Dallas said. “You can see that by looking at her.”

Vivi Ann wrapped herself in Grandma’s pink quilt—ruined now—and stumbled out of bed. “Winona, please, let me explain . . .”

“Explain to your fiancé.”

“I will, Win. I swear. I’ll make this right. I know you’re disappointed in me—”

“Don’t bother talking, Vivi. She’s too jealous to hear you.” Dallas got up and stood beside Vivi Ann, naked, as bold as brass.

She felt his stare like a beam of light, slicing through her, seeing too much. She backed away from him, from them. “Jealous? Dream on.”

He picked up a pair of black boxer shorts off the floor and put them on. “I know about wanting, Winona, believe me, I do. You’re sick with it.”

She turned away from them and ran back to her car. She heard Vivi Ann behind her, calling for her to stop, to come back, but she kept moving, slamming her car door shut. Starting the engine, she stared for a moment through the dirty window at her sister, wrapped in an antique quilt, standing on the porch.

Winona hit the gas and drove away, thinking as she came to the barn that it was finally done.

After twenty-five perfect years, Vivi Ann had fallen.

Dallas came up beside Vivi Ann on the porch.

She turned to him. Her eyes were wet with tears and she was shaking, but even with all of that, she felt relieved, too. “No more sneaking around now. I’ll tell Luke and it will be done.”

“Are you crazy? Winona is probably driving to his house now.”

“No, she won’t. We’re sisters.”

He touched her face. “You’re wrong.”

She kissed him softly. “Don’t look so worried. This will be okay. I’ll go talk to Luke and be back in no time. You’ll be here, right?”

“I’ll be here,” he said, but he didn’t look happy about it.

Winona went home and poured herself a straight shot of tequila. Downing it, she poured a second, and then a third.

It was over.

Finally.

Vivi Ann would lose Luke now for sure.

Unless she lied
. The thought of that sank through Winona, made her feel slightly sick—it was true. Her gorgeous, beloved sister could do what she’d always done: smile and shrug and get her way. If Dallas were gone tomorrow, Vivi Ann could marry Luke and everything would seem okay. Dad would walk his perfect youngest daughter down the aisle, hand her off to Luke, who’d take her hand and put his ring on her finger and swear to love her forever. No one would ever know the truth.

She got to her feet and paced the room, trying to think it through, but the tequila she’d drunk made it hard to think straight. What should she do now? She was so caught up in all of it that she barely heard the doorbell, and then Luke walked into the living room.

Winona froze. The sight of him right this minute, standing in front of her, with his bright, honest smile, was more than she could bear. She felt tears burn her eyes. She wanted him like she wanted air, and yet even now, with what Vivi Ann had done, she couldn’t reach out. They were sisters, after all.