Part 28 (1/2)
The tears came then and Vivien held her niece close while she cried. When the flow subsided, she wiped her niece's cheeks with the pad of her thumb and stared down at her tear-streaked face. ”I hope you learned a lesson here, Shelby. It's your body and no one has the right to make you feel like you owe them any part of it.”
Shelby nodded and took a swipe at what was left of the tears. Downstairs the garage door swung up, signaling Melanie's return.
”One last thing,” Vivien said as the girl shot a frantic look at the door. ”I'd start paying a little more attention in health cla.s.s if I were you. You've just freaked us both out completely over something that's pretty much anatomically impossible.”
Shelby blushed and looked away.
”It's time to get it together, girl,” she said as kindly as she could. ”And believe me I'm going to be watching.”
34.
RUTH HAD BEEN very careful not to get too excited about Ira's efforts to appease her. But as the Sunday-afternoon movie and dinner turned into a regular thing and the weekend in Mexico proved so much more fun than either of them had expected, she'd begun to let down her guard and to actually believe that her dog might, in fact, be learning some new tricks.
He'd definitely managed to learn some new dance steps and hadn't missed a single one of their private lessons so far. She smiled as she parked in her usual spot in front of the Magnolia Ballroom and hurried into the building. Her hair was newly washed and styled and she'd taken to dressing with extra care. When she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective gla.s.s of the front door, she realized that she was smiling.
”Ruth!” Melanie came out of the office when she spotted her and walked over to give her a hug. ”Your hair looks great.” She took in Ruth's new outfit, a black gabardine pantsuit that she'd paired with a lime green silk blouse. ”And I love that color on you.” She stepped back to study Ruth more closely. ”Did you have something done? I can't quite put my finger on it, but you look different.”
Ruth shook her head but could feel that the smile was still stretched across her face. She suspected the change was simple happiness. Or should she shock Melanie by telling her she thought it was a result of the s.e.x that she and Ira were once again having as often as possible. She felt the smile stretch wider. Who would have ever thought it?
”Nope.” She was beaming now, and it felt good. ”It's just me.”
They walked into the office, and Ruth sat across Melanie's desk from her. Fliers promoting the new spring cla.s.ses were stacked in one box, and the envelopes, which one of the a.s.sistants had labeled earlier in the week, were in another. They started the folding, stuffing, and stamping process as they caught up with each other.
”How're Shelby and Trip?” Ruth asked. ”Will they be at Angela and James's wedding?”
”Well, Shelby seems to be coming so that she can say she was there and is insisting on pictures to prove it. And, of course, Trip pretty much wors.h.i.+ps the ground James and his father walk on, although both James and Vivi have refused to get in a car with him again.”
”I guess your sister isn't so bad,” Ruth observed, feeling generous even toward Vivien. ”She must be pretty close to D-day.”
”She's actually due on the twelfth, so she may or may not make it to the wedding. But she finally seems to have accepted the fact that she's going to be a mother; she's been running around like a maniac getting ready. Her overnight bag is sitting right next to the garage door now, and she made me promise if she was too out of it to speak that I'd demand her epidural the minute we arrive at the hospital.”
Ruth laughed. ”That was a h.e.l.luva snake arms she did Wednesday night.”
”Hey, all I know is she still shows up for cla.s.s even though she can barely walk. And she really seems to be connecting with the kids. She's been way more involved in our lives than I ever expected.” Melanie straightened the growing stack of stuffed envelopes. ”Speaking of better than expected, what's going on with Ira?”
Ruth tried to keep her smile in check, but it just kept taking over her face. ”It's been great. I just can't believe that on top of everything else, it turns out he likes to dance! He even said something about maybe competing as a team.” Even as she said these things, Ruth could hardly believe them. She felt as if she'd asked for a small loan of some kind and been handed a million dollars.
”Wow.” Melanie's astonishment equaled Ruth's own. ”It's funny how people can surprise you, isn't it?”
”I'll say,” Ruth agreed. ”Only most surprises aren't such good ones.”
They worked in silence for a few minutes before the phone rang. Ruth picked up and thanked the caller for calling the Magnolia Ballroom.
”Yes,” the unfamiliar male voice said. ”Is Melanie Jackson there? This is Bruce Summers, um, Dr. Bruce Summers.”
Ruth covered the mouthpiece and handed the phone to Melanie. ”It's Dr. Summers,” she said. ”Is everything okay?”
Melanie nodded. ”I'm fine. It's, um, not a professional call.” Her cheeks turned red.
”Oh,” Ruth said. ”Oh!” The smile was back. ”In that case, I'll go check on the, um . . . janitorial supplies.” She stood. ”To see if we need any.”
Melanie raised the receiver to her ear, but she didn't speak until Ruth was out of the office. As she walked by the plate-gla.s.s window, Ruth stole a look into the office and saw a smile curving on Melanie's lips and another blush suffusing her cheeks.
It was the same sort of smile that Ruth felt on her own face; it was a bit strange and alien, but it was one she wouldn't mind getting used to.
VIVIEN WOKE BEFORE dawn on the day she was due. In the early morning quiet, she lay without moving beneath the covers and silently took stock. Large protruding stomach. Check. Ma.s.sive, overly sensitive b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Check. Swollen ankles and hands. Check. Aching back. Check. Urgent need to pee. Double check.
But contractions? Not a single one.
All day Vivi stayed close to home eyeing the packed bag she'd placed next to the garage door. Trying not to imagine the actual delivery, and hoping that her rejection of Lamaze cla.s.s was not going to prove a problem, she focused instead on no longer being pregnant. Over and over she picked up the phone and pulled up Stone's number, but each time she hung up before punching anything in.
She didn't even have a column to write. She'd filed several in advance, including today's, which painted today's lavish weddings as nothing more than a ticket to suburbia, which she'd railed against as little more than an updated version of the white picket fence. To this she added a terse rant about the ways in which women continued to try to live the fairy tale, afraid to present themselves as they really were. The only thing that had enabled her to write such a piece in view of the upcoming Wesley wedding was her anonymity and her refusal to visualize Angela's face as she wrote it. It was the most hypocritical thing she'd ever written.
The one column she hadn't written was the one she'd planned on the suburbanites who'd flocked to ballroom dance studios after watching Dancing with the Stars. Even she, who felt as if she'd dissected and used almost every particle of her sister's life, wasn't ready to sink quite that low.
The house phone rang on and off all day, but the only numbers Vivi recognized on the caller ID were Catherine Dennison's and her parents', so she let everything go to voice mail. After a light lunch that she hoped wouldn't interfere with the availability of anesthesia in case she went into labor soon after, she went back over J.J.'s case file one last time, but found nothing new or worth sinking her teeth into. In his old office, she conducted what she acknowledged as a final search, but she found no PDA, and his credit card and cell phone bills provided no new insights. The person J.J. called most after Melanie was Clay Alexander; given the length of their friends.h.i.+p and their business relations.h.i.+p, this was hardly news-worthy. Vivi had never been one to give up on her gut, but it seemed that her pregnancy had caused it to send out faulty signals. The time had come to let go.
The day stretched into eternity as Vivien waited for something to happen. A contraction. The discharge of the mucous plug. A leaking of fluid that would signal that her water had broken. Anything that signaled the onset of labor would have been welcome. But none of these things happened. She was finally forced to accept that she might not give birth today, just as Dr. Gilbert had warned.
When she finally heard the garage door go up late that afternoon, Vivien practically ran downstairs to greet Melanie, so badly did she need someone to talk her down off her emotional ledge. But one look at Melanie's face told her that whatever Melanie was about to say was not going to make her feel better. Something was terribly wrong.
When Melanie rounded on her and slapped a section of the Atlanta Journal-Const.i.tution in her hand, Vivien found out what it was.
Matt Glazer's lead read, How the mighty have fallen, and continued, First she lost her network gig, then she got pregnant. Now Vivien Gray is public enemy number one in our northern suburbs where she's been living undercover and writing as the notoriously nasty Scarlett Leigh.
Ah, you ask, how can that be when Ms. Gray is so very smug about her role as a serious journalist? Well, in addition to the catty articles she's been ashamed or afraid to admit to, Just Peachy has learned that the very pregnant Miss Gray has been busy investigating the presumably accidental death of her former brother-in-law, Republican legislator J.J. Jackson!
Just Peachy hears that no stone has been left unturned. Except for hunky international correspondent Stone Seymour that is, who may or may not be the father of Ms. Gray's child.
Vivien stopped reading and looked up into her sister's face.
”Is this true, Vivi?” Melanie asked. ”Is it?”
”Which part?” Vivien asked when she regained her speech.
”You have written all of those vicious articles?”
Vivi nodded again. And winced.
”All those people I introduced you to, the things I shared about my life, you took those things and mocked them in front of a national audience?”
Another nod. Vivi couldn't think of a thing to say, not that Melanie gave her a chance to.
”And you are investigating my husband's death?”