Just Kiss Me (18 page)

Read Just Kiss Me Online

Authors: Rachel Gibson

BOOK: Just Kiss Me
10.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“What?” He turned and looked at Spence.

“Where did you take Vivien yesterday after you stole her from me?”

“I didn’t steal her.”

“I was getting somewhere with her when you moved in.”

Henry couldn’t tell if Spence was kidding or not. “We just got some fresh air.” He raised his glass and changed the subject. “What are your plans for employment?” he said before his favorite aged bourbon passed his lips and filled his mouth with smooth, oaky liquor. Until a few months ago, Spence had worked in the regional office of his former father-in-law, Senator Coleman. “I don’t think you’ll have any problem getting a job in local government.”

“I’m not cut out to be a public servant.”

That was news to Henry. He turned his attention to his brother once again. “Since when?”

“Since I graduated from Columbia with a poly sci degree.” Spencer took another drink and sucked scotch from his bottom lip. “I hate politicians.”

Henry laughed. “Mother has her heart set on calling you Governor.”

“Yeah. I know she does, but she also had her heart set on calling you a Wall Street Titan.” The sounds of cicadas and crickets and the creak of Spence’s rocking chair filled his pause. “I guess she’s doomed to disappointments.”

“You haven’t told her?”

“Not yet.”

“Do me a favor and make sure I’m out of town.” Practically from birth, Spence’s life had been plotted out for him, just as Henry’s had. Their mother was going to pitch a fit. “If you’re not planning on being Governor Whitley-Shuler, what are your plans?”

“I have few things in mind.” He rocked his chair a couple of time then said, “I think I’d like to write a novel.”

“A novel?” Henry wouldn’t have been more surprised if he’d said he wanted to drive a dog sled. “When did you decide this?”

“Aboard the
One and a Tuna.”

“The what?”

“The majestic fishing vessel where I battled mighty tarpon in Key West.”

Henry laughed. “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”

“I’m dead serious. I figure all I need to write like Hemingway is a wooden yacht and a steady supply of mojitos.” Spencer sounded a little wistful when he sang, “Wasting away in Margaritaville.”

He’d lost it. Mixing up Hemmingway and Buffet. “You gonna blow out your flip-flops and raise six-toed cats?”

“No cats.” He rocked the chair for several creaks. “I’m thinking I’ll win a Pulitzer for my insightful portrayal of the human condition and sell the film rights to Hollywood.”

“Sounds like you have it all planned out.” No doubt about it, his brother had lost his fucking mind.

“I’m pulling your leg about portraying the human condition. I’m too big a sinner to preach morality and too superficial to examine the meaning of life.” Spencer laughed like he was real funny. “Maybe I’ll ask Vivien about writing for Hollywood.”

Vivien. Henry was spending too much time thinking about her without his brother bringing up her name.

“When’s she due back?”

“Tomorrow.”

“What time?”

“Don’t know,” Henry answered, and he had no intention of finding out. None. Nada. Zippo.

HE WAS BACK
to frowning at her like she’d stolen his basketball and lost it. The first thing Vivien noticed as she walked out of Charleston International the next day, was the downward curve of Henry’s mouth. He stood at the curb next to his truck, his emotions hidden behind sunglasses and his unreadable face. “How are you doing?” he asked, as if she were a stranger. As if she hadn’t had sex with him. As if she couldn’t distinguish the scent of his skin from the smell of hot concrete and car fumes.

“Good.” He tossed her Louis Vuitton suitcases into the back of his truck like they were gym bags. He was as indifferent to her expensive luggage as much as he appeared to be indifferent to her. Clearly he was back to being the Henry she’d known as a child.

No matter how hard she attempted to engage him in conversation, he hardly spoke on the drive from the airport. He dropped her off at the carriage house and set her luggage just inside the door, then he practically burned rubber and squealed his tires in his haste to leave. She might have thought he’d forgotten all about the other night if he hadn’t glanced back at her one last time, his gaze clear and unguarded. For several heartbeats, he’d paused by the driver’s side door of his truck. His dark eyes locked with hers, and for several hot and intense heartbeats, his gaze had been anything but indifferent.

Henry’s moods were too confusing to think about and analyze, and why should she spend her time trying to make sense of him anyway? He wanted to ignore her like he had when they’d been kids. Fine. He probably had a string of women he confused besides her. He probably had a revolving door for a love life, and she needed to focus on the important reasons she was back in Charleston. None of which had anything to do with Butthead Henry.

The inside of the carriage house seemed so empty without her momma. Too quiet and dull. Vivien kicked off her pumps and walked barefoot up the stairs to her old bedroom. She turned on the palmetto ceiling fan and took a step inside. The slight breeze from the fan disturbed the yellow sheers in her old bedroom, and the plantation shutters locked out the afternoon sun.

Her old twin bed sat in the middle of the room, arranged on the yellow polka-dot area rug she and her mother had found at Rug Masters when Vivien was fifteen. That was the year she’d been into polka dots, and the quilt on her bed matched the canopy and the yellow-and-white paper on the far wall.

Vivien moved into the room that still had all her acting awards pinned to a corkboard. She’d spent a lot of time in this room. Lonely days filled with grand dreams and staring into an old cheval mirror, practicing lines and her smile for when she was famous.

The hardwood floor creaked under her feet as she moved to the closet and opened the door. Her organza prom dress was still there, taking up most of the space inside. The huge skirt had made her look like one of those cakes with a Barbie doll stuck in the top. She’d gone to the prom with Levi Morgan, and he’d ended up drinking too many juleps and passing out in his car. She hadn’t minded all that much. She’d been into the dress and the glamour more than she’d been into Levi.

On the shelf above the dress sat boxes and totes filled with her childhood. Everything in the room and the rest of the house had to be looked at and gone through and decisions had to be made. Decisions that only Vivien could make. Looking around, she realized that she’d grossly underestimated the time it would take her to go through everything. There was no way she could settle her momma’s affairs before she needed to leave again.

She thought of Nonnie and Henry and, for the first time in years, the idea of spending time in the carriage house didn’t make her want to run down the driveway screaming like Heather Langenkamp with Freddie Kruger on her tail. Living across the yard from Nonnie didn’t feel like the Nightmare on Elm Street.

The doorbell rang and as if Vivien’s thoughts conjured her up, Nonnie stood in the doorway, a covered dish in one hand and Louisa Deering’s Twinkie loaf in the other. “We’re still cleaning up leftovers from Macy Jane’s funeral reception.” She shoved the dish at Vivien. “Elsa Jean Packard’s Battle of Honey Hill bacon and butter beans.”

“Great.” Vivien took the dish and tried not to grimace.

“While you were gone, I had new locks put on the doors and all the windows.”

“Oh!” Vivien looked at the big shiny deadbolt on the front door. With everything else on her mind, she’d forgotten to mention new locks to Sarah. “Thank you.” She stepped aside and the older woman headed for the kitchen. Nonnie Whitley-Shuler, aka the Mantis, the Wicked Witch, and Cruella de Vil, among others, had given a thought to Vivien and her safety. Such a kind gesture almost brought a tear to her eyes.

“You’re welcome. I had them installed in case those people you attract turn up and show their crazy.”

Chapter 13

Dear Diary,

Yeah!!!! I finally get to wear a bra.
I wanted a pink one with foam padding in it. Momma said no.
She said only tacky hussies wear padded bras. I don’t think that’s true.

Dear Diary,

Vivien loves Bubba!!! I got a boyfriend. Woohooo!!! His name is Gary but folks call him Bubba. He lives on Tradd Street in a big brick house. Everyone calls him fat, but I told him he’s husky. We went to the Battery today and had ice cream. On the way home, he held my hand. At first it was weird and sweaty. Then in was nice. Kind of tingly in my arm and stomach. I think he might have kissed me good-bye, too, but Henry and Spence are home on some kind of school break. They were playing basketball in the driveway and me and Bubba let go of hands really fast. He left really fast, too. It’s just like Henry and Spence to ruin my first date.
Henry said I could do better than a boy who looks like Cartman. Spence laughed and started quoting lines from South Park ’cause Spence is stupid. Bubba does not look like Cartman. He doesn’t wear a coat and hat every day. Spence and Henry have been burrs in my butt patootie for years. When I’m rich and famous, I’m going to make them sorry. Especially Henry!

Dear Diary,

Momma took me to her doctor and I had to take a long test. The questions where stuff about how I feel when I’m happy or sad. It was the scariest test ever, but the good news is that I’m not like Momma. The doctor said I have a 7 to 10 percent chance of getting Momma’s illness before I’m thirty. Momma was very happy and said that’s good. I hope so. I don’t want to do crazy stuff like taking apart the washing machine and cleaning each part. Then getting sad because I can’t put it back together again.

Dear Diary,

I saved up money and got Va-Vooms for my bra. They’re rubbery and look like crescent rolls. When I put them in my bra, I go from an A cup to a B. Anything bigger and people will notice, like when Hillary Asner came to school in her Bombshell bra. A girl can’t just go from an A to a D cup overnight.

Dear Diary,

Bubba kissed me today!!! It was magic. He pretended that he was reaching a tree branch above my head and he kissed me. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. He said I kissed good for my first time. He’s so sweet and I’m lucky to have a boyfriend like Bubba.

Other books

Taken by Bolton, Karice
Kitty Little by Freda Lightfoot
The Gemini Virus by Mara, Wil
The Mapmaker's Daughter by Laurel Corona
Halfway Hidden by Carrie Elks
Most of Me by Mark Lumby