Coffee Sonata (29 page)

“I’m not jealous.” Eryn shook her head slowly. “I know she doesn’t want him that way. That’s not it. At all.” She choked on her words and had to swallow in between them. “Let’s not talk about it anymore now. Maybe tomorrow, if we’re still meeting in Mike’s basement?”

“We are.” Vivian’s voice was absolute. “Now we need it more than ever.”

We do.
Mike wanted to hug Eryn. For the first time ever, her friend looked fragile, as if the smallest gust of wind could shatter her. With all her feistiness gone, her openhearted core was exposed to the elements. Mike cursed under her breath and felt Vivian gently squeeze her arm.

“Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served!” The speaker’s voice broke the mood, and they moved toward the head table. As Mike sat down next to Vivian, she watched Eryn find her seat, five chairs away.

Tonight would test their relationships. Mike hoped they’d come out unharmed, but she doubted it.

*

Eryn honestly didn’t care about Dustin Pender’s person. She did, however, care greatly about what he represented. Manon’s lies, hiding, denial—it all upset her, and she felt nauseous when she thought about how she’d struggled to be proud of her identity since she was fifteen.
I paid for it, the hard way, just to be me. I suffered the consequences and saw it through. You hide, Manon. You hide and you’re going to pay eventually. Damn, you just don’t get it, do you?

Eryn watched Manon converse skillfully with her neighbors at the table and reluctantly had to smile when she saw Mike. The coordinator of the birthday bash had obviously assumed Vivian would attend with a male escort, so Mike had messed up the seating arrangement. Archibald Rex now sat at the other end of the long table. Keeping ten people between them was enough for Eryn, and she made a point of not looking in his direction.

“I hear you’re commissioned to write the Dodd biography,” a young man named Gordy, who sat next to Eryn, said. After a brief conversation about the project and his background with the Belmont Foundation, he remarked, “The woman in the tuxedo. Michaela Stone. She was quite the poster girl for the foundation. That success story inspired a lot of people to actually open their wallets. She came to the Youth Center in Providence several times a week and told us her story, talked about how she’d beaten the odds. And look now. She’s here.”

“And so are you.”

“Well, yes, but mostly because my parents are invited.” Gordy grinned. “Marjorie has been kind and always taken a special interest in me, since I was her first ‘case.’”

As Gordy talked, Eryn took mental notes on the things she wanted to explore further about Marjorie herself. All the time, she thought about this new piece of information about Mike.
You talk about your past sometimes, Mike. But you never talk about all the things you’ve done to compensate for it. Damn.

The lights dimmed, and a spotlight focused on Marjorie Dodd, who stood up from her chair. Dressed in a long silvery dress with white and gray embroidered ribbons, she looked regal. “Ladies and gentlemen, friends, coworkers, employees…all of you, family.” She smiled when her voice wavered. “And I promised myself to not become emotional.”

Marjorie collected herself. “Thank you, everyone, for helping me celebrate my century birthday, as one of my gardener’s children called it. Manon Belmont, I especially want to thank you for setting a good example in many ways. Your foundation assists numerous people, and your social conscience shames us all. You’ve taken your grandfather’s ideas and transformed them into a well-oiled charity organization that helps people help themselves.”

Marjorie waited while spontaneous applause resonated throughout the auditorium, then continued to list a few more people. “Finally, I’m honored to have a small part in bringing East Quay’s most famous and celebrated daughter home. Just when we need her most, she returns to offer us her greatest gift, her beautiful voice. Thank you for being here, Vivian Harding!”

Applause echoed through the room, and Eryn watched Vivian blush.
She didn’t expect that. Way to go, Vivian. You deserve it.
She glanced at Manon, still applauding like the others and warmly gazing at Vivian. All at once Eryn knew it was Manon who had persuaded Vivian to come home.
And Manon and Marjorie are very good friends. In a way they’re like leading ladies, a queen and a crown princess of this New England town.
Eryn felt the distance between Manon and her grow to oceanic proportions.

Doomed to fail before we even started. Damn.
She clenched her fists, unable to clap for Vivian anymore since her hands were trembling so much.

Damn.

Vivian sat at one of the tables near the dance floor with Mike by her side. “I like this band,” she said, and motioned toward the twelve-man big band that played a potpourri of standards. “They’re good.”

“Yes,” Mike said. They had been talking to different people all evening, with no problems. She had rarely left Vivian’s side and didn’t think anyone had picked up on Vivian’s condition. But it was almost time to leave; she saw lines of fatigue frame Vivian’s eyes. “Are you ready to call it quits?”

“Yes, in a second. It’s just…” Vivian turned on her chair and it was as if she was able to look into Mike’s eyes. “I was just thinking how long it’s been since I danced.”

“Danced?”
Oh, God, Vivi.

“Yes. And they’re playing ‘Night and Day,’ one of my favorites.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to dance with me?” She wasn’t sure what she wanted Vivian to say.

“Yes. Would you mind?” Vivian’s hopeful expression made Mike feel sad.

“But all these people. We’ve talked to half of them, at least, and they’re bound to notice.”

“Are you about to chicken out?” Vivian was obviously teasing her.

“I’m thinking of you.”

“And I want to dance.”

Mike sighed and hoped nobody would pay attention to them. Some were more than a little drunk, and perhaps afterward they’d think they’d imagined it. “Okay. I’ll lead.”

“Please do.”

Mike took Vivian’s hand as they walked toward the dance floor. Then she encircled Vivian’s waist protectively and clasped her hand in the other. “Just follow me.” As she took two gliding steps backward, Vivian, safely within the circle of her arms, moved effortlessly with her, making it easy to change direction and lose herself in the dance. As Mike pulled Vivian closer and leaned her cheek against her temple, she smelled flowers and musk.

People danced around them, and for a moment, Mike wondered if she was imagining things or if the dance floor was twice as crowded as when they began. “People are joining us.”

“Let them.” Vivian moved her head against Mike’s cheek in a little caress. “Just don’t let anyone cut in.” She sighed and sank deeper into Mike’s arms. “I don’t want to dance with anybody else.”

“Not even the mayor’s husband? He’s looking our way.”

“Heavens no. He’s nice, but a bit of a pompous ass.”

Mike laughed at Vivian’s uncharacteristic comment. “Oh, then we’d better move to the other end of the dance floor. Hang on.” Mike guided them away from the band and the bright stage lights. “Better?”

“Much. It’s darker here.”

Mike pressed her lips together for a moment before she spoke. “Too dark?”

“No. Just dark. I have you to hold on to. I’m fine.” Vivian sounded calm and content, and Mike prayed this feeling would last for a long time.

She dreaded the hour when Vivian ended their relationship, but all she could do about it right now was to keep her promise. She would be there for Vivian, to dance, to do anything, until Vivian said she didn’t want her any longer. To return to mere friendship after having kissed, caressed, and held Vivian was impossible.
She needs me. I fill a purpose. The story of my life. Am I ever going to meet anyone who merely
wants
me?

It was nice to be needed. Brenda had needed her—for a while—but when the need became a rationalization for abuse, with accusations, blame, and finally, rejection… Mike cringed. How had Brenda materialized while she was holding Vivian so close?

Vivian was nothing like Brenda and never would be. Vivian was honest and warm, with a loving nature. Brenda couldn’t even spell the word “loving.”
I was useful for a while and lost four years of my life because I was young and foolish. Haven’t I learned anything? Haven’t I grown beyond this?
Mike turned her head and kissed Vivian’s forehead.
I have. This is different. It has to be.

*

Manon danced past Vivian and Mike, and the sight of the two women together, oblivious—or indifferent—to what people might think made her anxious. She gripped Dustin’s shoulder tightly, and only when he groaned and tugged at his hand did she realize how hard she’d squeezed his fingers.

“Wow, Manon, you’re strong,” Dustin said, and teased her by wiggling his fingers and grimacing. “Lift weights?”

“Actually, I do.” Manon had to smile. “But my strong fingers…my piano exercises caused them. I’m sorry.”

“I bet.” Dustin looked up and saw Mike and Vivian. “Hey, cool. Your friends are dancing. That’s turning a few heads. Way to go.”

“Yes.” Manon’s stomach churned.
Where’s Eryn?
She hadn’t seen Eryn leave, but considering her state of mind, it was entirely possible that she had, without bothering to say good-bye.
Can’t she understand that I needed to show up in style? I booked Dustin more than four months ago. Should I have just canceled him because she was coming?

Manon tried to muster more indignation, but she should have known how Eryn would react. The way Eryn looked at her, touched her, and the way they connected on every level when they were together…
But she has no right to demand anything of me! I haven’t made her any promises. In fact the opposite. I’ve told her over and over why we can’t even try. She can only blame herself for building castles in the sand.

Manon tried to see Eryn’s side.
I responded to her kisses. I never stopped her advances. She probably thinks I was playing hard to get, and now I’m giving her the cold shoulder just because it suits me.

Dustin swung by Vivian and Mike. “Ladies.” He grinned after winking at Manon, though she had no idea what he had in mind. “May I just dance around the floor with Ms. Harding?” he asked. “I promise to take good care of you, ma’am.”

Manon stiffened and was about to stop Dustin, and Mike began to move away while shaking her head when Vivian interrupted. “I’d be delighted, Dustin.”

Manon felt trapped, since she’d never make a scene in public, something that had probably not escaped Dustin, because he smiled at her and winked again and whispered, “Hey, Manon, live a little. Let East Quay see that Manon Belmont is a modern, tolerant woman.” Then he took Vivian in his arms, moving in smooth, short steps along the outskirts of the dance floor.

Uneasily, Mike said, “Manon?”

“Let’s dance, then, Mike.” Manon shivered but took a deep breath. To her surprise it was even easier to follow Mike than Dustin, and she knew that her new friend was the better dancer, which was no small thing, since Dustin was quite the expert. “Where did you learn to dance so well?”

“A woman I knew at the Providence Youth Center, Josie Quinn, loved to dance. She taught me all the classic dances.” Mike sounded wistful. “I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“I remember that name. Wasn’t she one of the driving forces behind the youth center?”

“Yes. She encouraged me to apply for a scholarship from the Belmont Foundation.”

Manon forgot about feeling self-conscious for a moment. Something in Mike’s eyes, and in her voice, demanded all of her attention. “And that changed your life.”

“It changed everything. I was pretty broken when Josie reeled me in. She was the reason I stayed at the center.”

“Like a surrogate mom. Or sister? She must be in her sixties now, right?”

“Yes, I think so. Last I heard, she was sick and on medical leave. I went to see her, but she’d moved and left no forwarding address. The center won’t give out their employees’ home addresses.” Mike sighed, pulled Manon closer, and turned. Still the couple behind them accidentally nudged Manon’s back, and Mike tugged her a little closer.

“I could have my staff look into it. The youth division is in constant touch with all the youth centers in this area. Someone may know what happened and where she is.”

“Would you? I’d really like to know…unless…” Mike swallowed and fumbled for words. “Unless she’s dead.”

“Let’s don’t believe the worst. I’ll get my people on it first thing Monday morning. Both for you and because this Josie sounds like a good candidate for one of our awards. Was she ever recognized for what she did for you?”

“I don’t think she wanted any attention. Josie was a bit of a mystery,” Mike murmured. “She never shared much, she was more hands-on. Teaching us to dance, to cook, and to laugh again.”

“Important things, all of them.”

“Then why do you look so sad?” Mike asked gently. “And where’s Eryn?”

Manon became rigid and pulled back a fraction of an inch. “I don’t know. Perhaps she went home.”

“She was pretty upset. You know that, don’t you?”