Part 18 (1/2)
Vivien nodded happily, more than pleased with his delight.
”What is it?” Melanie asked.
”Read it to us!” Shelby demanded.
Trip was still blinking back his surprise. ”This ent.i.tles Jordan Jackson the third, or Triple, also known as Trip, to accompany James and Cole Wesley to the January Hawks versus Celtics game at Philips Arena.”
His mouth hung open. As did Melanie and Shelby's.
”You're not messing with my head, are you?” He checked the paper again.
Vivien shook her head, no, sending the top of the Santa cap flopping. She couldn't stop smiling, so pleased was she with her surprise. ”Angela couldn't go and James and Cole-that's his father the pitcher”-she said as if everyone in the room didn't already know that-”thought it would be fun to have another guy along. You're the guy.”
”I'm going to a basketball game with Cole Wesley? Me? Really?” He simply couldn't seem to absorb it. This was by far the most words she'd heard come out of his mouth, c.u.mulatively, since she'd arrived. ”Wait till I tell the guys!”
He rushed off, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he went.
”That is so cool!” This was high praise from Shelby. ”I think I need to tell a few people myself.” She already had her phone to her ear before she'd gotten to the stairs.
Melanie and Vivien exchanged glances.
”Wow!” Melanie said. ”You are formidable when you apply yourself, Vivi. Even I'm impressed.”
”Why, thank you.” Vivien smiled. ”But I'm not completely finished. Here.” She handed the large envelope to her sister. ”This is for you. With thanks.” Her smile faltered a bit. ”And apologies.”
Melanie slipped a fingernail under the flap and pulled it open. Slowly she removed the handwritten card. This ent.i.tles the bearer, that's you, Mel, to the services of Wilda and Carlos, cleaners extraordinaire, every week for the next six months. Date and time to be determined.
Melanie dropped the card into her lap. ”Oh, no, Vivi, that's too much. I can't accept . . .”
”You cannot refuse a gift. That would be too awful,” Vivi said. ”Especially not after everything I've taken from you.”
”But . . .”
She held up a hand to silence Melanie's protests. ”And especially not after I humbled myself by calling Ruth and begging for a referral. She wasn't even going to give me a name until I told her it was for you.”
Vivien smiled. ”Otherwise you're going to have me mopping and swabbing, and we both know just how unsatisfactory that would be.”
The rest of the morning was completely satisfactory from Vivien's point of view. She and Melanie spent it sipping hot chocolate and munching on cookies in front of the fire while they watched first Miracle on 34th Street and then National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.
Before they knew it, it was time to shower and dress and clamber into the van for the drive to Magnolia Hall. They backed over the still-rolled-up newspaper at the foot of the driveway, having never even thought about bringing it in, let alone reading it. Which was why they arrived at Magnolia Hall happily festive and unreasonably optimistic. Which turned out to be a rather strategic mistake.
23.
THERE WAS A warm glow in Melanie's chest as she drove the minivan to Magnolia Hall. The morning had been wonderful. Not as wonderful as it would have been if J.J. had been with them, of course, but Vivien's presence and unexpected enthusiasm had allowed the three of them to celebrate without being consumed by J.J.'s absence.
Beside her, Vivien stared out the window lost in thoughts of her own. She wore one of her new maternity outfits, but Melanie suspected this was out of necessity rather than an intentional gambit for opening discussion of her pregnancy. Though it was cowardly and somewhat selfish of her, she hoped Caroline was too distracted to notice Vivi's rounding shape. Or to question the flimsy reasons Vivi had given for the length of her stay. Melanie had spent the last year forging a tentative truce with her mother. She hadn't forgiven Caroline for her disapproval of J.J., and she had repeatedly refused the help that would have never been offered when he was alive, but she'd managed to avoid engaging in any major battles. She was already far too stressed to be at war with her mother.
A glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that the kids had their new iPods plugged into their ears, but today that didn't leave Melanie feeling intentionally excluded. This morning had gone a long way toward smoothing out the jagged edges of their loss, and she wanted desperately to believe that it marked a turning point for all of them. That although life would never be the same without J.J., it might one day be all right.
In the open doorway of Magnolia Hall, Evangeline waited. Dressed in her everyday uniform, she wasted no time on affectations or ”Mammyisms.” ”Merry Christmas, y'all,” she said as she hugged them each in turn, careful not to smash the gaily wrapped gifts they carried. She held Vivien the longest and when she took the gifts into her own arms so that she could look her up and down more thoroughly, she sighed. ”Oh, Lordy. I hope to h.e.l.l you're prepared because your mama . . .”
Whatever warning Evangeline had intended was swallowed up in Caroline's arrival. ”Darlings!” she said, scooping Shelby and Trip into delicate hugs that wouldn't damage the gifts or mess up her hair or makeup.
Evangeline's eyes went very wide as if she were trying to communicate something silently, not exactly her forte. She handed the stack of gifts back to Vivien, positioning them directly in front of her stomach and chest.
”Santa left a ton of things for you two under the tree,” Caroline went on. ”I swear we'll have to rent a U-Haul to get all that loot back to your house.
”Isn't that right, Evangeline?” Caroline said much too sweetly.
”Oh, yes'm,” Evangeline replied with an exaggerated curtsy and bob of her head even while she tried to send yet another wide-eyed warning. ”Santa came all right. And so did the morning newspaper.” Again, she widened her eyes and shot them a look.
Melanie glanced at Vivien to see if she'd gotten the intended message, but she shrugged back, equally baffled. If she ever had to choose up sides for charades, Evangeline was going to be her very last pick.
”Why don't we go ahead into the library?” Caroline asked, though as usual it was more of a command than a request. ”Please tell Cook we'll be ready to eat at two, Evangeline.”
Evangeline stood rooted in the doorway, uncharacteristically uncertain. The fact that she wasn't performing or trading barbs with Caroline was a surer sign of trouble than any of her attempted communicative looks, but Melanie still had no idea what she was trying to tell them. Evangeline finally took herself off to the kitchen, muttering to herself.
”Now then,” Caroline took the gifts out of Vivien's arms and gave her a slow once-over that made them both squirm. ”I see you have on a new outfit,” she said pleasantly, though her expression was pained. ”And you've got such a . . . rosy glow about you.” An eyebrow arched upward. ”The holidays certainly seem to be agreeing with you.”
Melanie braced herself for the dawning of understanding to wash across their mother's perfectly made-up face. For Vivien to come out and tell her she was going to be a grandmother again. For Caroline to gasp in horror as she confronted the fact that her unmarried daughter was going to have a baby. But Caroline simply handed the gifts back to Vivien, turned on her heel, and led them back to the library.
Melanie and Vivien exchanged glances. ”That was really weird,” Vivien said.
”Yeah, in a really scary way. I'm not having a good feeling,” Melanie said, trying to still the flutter of unease. ”But if she's not in complete denial and the subject of your pregnancy should come up, this would be the perfect day to plead immaculate conception.”
For a while the pandemonium of their arrival and the gift exchanging covered the odd undercurrent. There were, in fact, a ton of gifts for both Trip and Shelby and everyone else present. A lack of material generosity had never been an issue in the Gray household, and there was a good deal of smiling and laughing during the allotted hour.
But when they moved en ma.s.se into the dining room, the veneer of frivolity disappeared. Granted it was difficult to be completely carefree and unguarded in this most formal of rooms under the best of circ.u.mstances, but as they took their seats Melanie felt a distinct change in the atmosphere. And as they ate she saw the same change reflected in Caroline's face.
Melanie had come prepared to make sure Vivien's Christmas dinner wasn't a vegetarian affair; she'd promised that she'd even slip her food from her own plate if necessary. But Evangeline continued to be distracted and off her game, barely bothering to censor what Vivien ate. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Evangeline's food policing was nothing compared to whatever was brewing with their mother. Caroline's face flushed as she watched her eldest daughter eat, and Melanie didn't think it was a result of the amount of wine Caroline consumed or the quant.i.ty of food that Vivi inhaled.
The main course had been cleared and coffee poured when Caroline clanged a spoon against her water goblet and called for their attention. The skin on the back of Melanie's neck p.r.i.c.kled as her mother stood at her place. The table grew quiet as everyone watched Caroline, but Caroline's gaze never left Vivien.
”I'd like to propose a toast to our daughter Vivien,” Caroline said, her jaw set and her tone hard. ”Who has once again found a way to embarra.s.s and humiliate this family.”
She paused dramatically as everyone else froze. Out of the corner of her eye Melanie watched Vivien's face drain of color, but other than the chalky whiteness of her skin and her complete stillness she gave no other outward sign of distress.
”When are you due, sweetheart?” The endearment was both chiding and chilling. ”And did you really have to p.i.s.s off Matthew Glazer to the extent that he had to expose your unmarried pregnancy in his column on Christmas morning?”
”It was in the paper?” Vivi asked through lips that had gone as white as her face. ”He actually wrote that?”
”And ran a picture, too. Perhaps you should start wearing the hat and dark gla.s.ses on your stomach!”
Caroline removed a folded section of newspaper from the pocket of her sweater. In the silence that had descended, the rustle of the paper might have been a thunderclap. She read, ”What former investigative reporter from a prominent and politically connected Atlanta family is apparently pregnant despite the lengths she's gone to to try to hide it? This shot of Vivien Armstrong Gray was snapped as she snuck out of a recent ob-gyn appointment. Ms. Gray, of Magnolia Hall in Buckhead and more recently of New York City, seems a bit long in the tooth to be having a baby. The big question would be who and where is the baby's father?” Caroline paused and drew a deep breath. ”He then goes on about some column in the Weekly Encounter that has suburban soccer moms all in a twitter, but you were his lead story. And this picture . . . honestly!” She grimaced as she wadded the paper into a ball and dropped it on the table.