Vivienne's Guilt (23 page)

Read Vivienne's Guilt Online

Authors: Heather M. Orgeron

Tags: #General Fiction

I walk over to the house to see if Vivienne and Cassie are ready to head over to the pavilion. When I step into the kitchen, I find Sierra and Tillie at the table working on a puzzle.

Sierra and Cassie are suddenly a packaged deal. She’s a cool enough kid, and it’s nice having someone old enough to look after Tillie so she doesn’t have to be around the camp kids all of the time.

“Hey, girls,” I say, plopping down at the table beside Dimples. “Whatcha making?”

“It’s a unicorn, Prince Reid. With a rainbow...see?” Tillie grabs the box and holds it up to my face.

“That’s awesome. Leave it on the table when you finish so I can see it when we get back, okay?” Puzzles have become our thing. Every night before bed, she and I put one together before Viv takes her up for her story. As much as I’m looking forward to hanging out tonight, I’m going to miss our new nightly ritual. From the first day, I’ve felt such a strong connection with Tillie, but since the near drowning incident, it feels as if our souls are somehow connected—bound together through our shared trauma. She’s become a part of me. I have no real way of knowing what it feels like to be a parent, but I can imagine that the feeling is something similar to the way my heart seems to grow tighter in my chest when she’s not around and how just being in her presence sets it at ease.

I turn toward the doorway when I hear Vivienne and Cassie coming down the stairs. When they walk into the kitchen, I have to do a double take. They look like they’ve just time warped from the ‘80s. Their hair is huge—finger in an electrical outlet huge—and I have to stifle a laugh when I see their bright blue eye shadow and Barbie pink lips. The scent of hairspray fills the room. The smell is so strong that I can actually taste it. Viv and Cass are decked out in spandex from head to toe, complete with leg warmers, plastic bracelets, and earrings that look like they should be worn by Tillie...not two twenty-something-year-old women.

Viv looks
happy
. She looks
amazing
.

“The ‘80s want their hair back, ladies,” I say, unable to resist taunting them.

“What’s wrong wif your hair?” Tillie asks, grimacing. “You and Auntie need to brush your tangles. It’s not fair...I have to.”

Viv snorts out a laugh and covers her mouth, turning red in the face. “It’s not tangled, Tillie...Well, it kinda is, but it’s part of our costumes,” she explains, giggling.

“We look hot, baby girl. Like rock stars!” Cassie adds, fluffing up her hair with her hands.

Sierra lowers her head, shaking it from side to side. “So embarrassing,” she grumbles, barely loud enough to be heard.

“Hey, Debbie Downer...don’t be jealous that you aren’t as cool as me. I’ll get you an outfit just like this for your first day of school,” Cassie responds, sticking her tongue out at Sierra.

“Oh God, no.” Sierra rolls her eyes, scrunching up her face in disgust, but there’s a hidden smile evident in her eyes.

“We should really get going,” I suggest, noticing the time on the stove. “We don’t want to keep the kids waiting.” I ruffle Dimple’s hair and lean over to give her a peck on the cheek before scooting my chair back and bidding the girls a good night.

Vivienne and Cassie kiss the girls and instruct Sierra to call one of our cells if they need anything.

On the way out, I overhear them whispering to each other about their upcoming performance, and you could swear that they were going to a club to sing and not on their way to hang out with a bunch of teenagers. It’s adorable how excited they are. Their good mood is infectious.

Never in a million years would I have imagined that I’d be looking forward to sober karaoke with a bunch of kids and my
aunt
...but there’s no place I’d rather be.

We arrive at the pavilion, and sure enough, find the campers and counselors already there waiting on us. The equipment was set up earlier in the day, and the kids were encouraged to pair off with partners and to come tonight prepared with a song. They’ve been practicing all afternoon, and I’m surprised at how many of them wanted to participate. It just goes to show how much their time here with each other has benefitted them already. Only four of the twelve don’t want to sing, but I hope that when they see how much fun their friends are having, it will make them want to participate next week.

The pavilion is huge with a stage on one end and six picnic tables arranged in two rows of three on the other. It’s warm and muggy, but the ceiling fans and the breeze coming off the lake help to make it bearable. I don’t know if I will ever get used to this humidity, however. Mosquito zappers hang from the ceiling and some type of spray system set up around the outside along the roof. Both totally necessary. You have never seen mosquitos until you’ve been on the water in Louisiana on a warm summer night. They will eat you alive.

Not wanting to waste any time, I walk over to the mic, tapping my finger on it a few times to grab everyone’s attention. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” I say, clearing my throat. “Let’s get this party started, shall we? First on stage tonight, we have Mrs. Vivienne Parker and her partner in crime, Cassie Stewart.” Following the counselors’ lead, the children all begin to cheer and clap while the girls take their positions on stage. “This dynamic duo will be performing “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston.” More cheers.

“Show ’em how it’s done, ladies,” I say, handing them each a microphone with a huge smile that I can’t seem to help. Then I turn and jump off of the stage, grabbing a front row seat next to the nonperformers.

The music begins, and the two of them sway in time to the beat, exchanging smiles of encouragement. Love and excitement radiates between them. Cassie starts off with a few oohs and ahhs...and then Viv comes in, singing the lyrics, and that voice...God, her voice is unbelievable. It’s enchanting. It’s alluring. It’s...so fucking
sexy
. Cassie continues to sing backup, joining in for the chorus, and she’s not bad—not at all—but she’s obviously only there for moral support because Vivienne is a star. She shines so brightly that it’s almost blinding to look at her. Just when I thought that I’d gotten this attraction under control, she comes out dancing in a pair of skin-tight pants with the voice of an angel and moves that suggest she is anything but...

Her voice caresses me everywhere, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. I feel her pumping through my veins, heating my blood, touching me in all of the places that I dream of someday feeling her again. Her eyes meet mine, and neither of us can look away. There’s no way that I’m imagining this connection between us. She has to feel it, too...

Vivienne

The music starts, and with the first few notes, I’m transported back to the countless other times that Cassie and I have performed this same routine. Visions flash through my mind of college parties and karaoke bars...of drunken nights out by the pool...and of Abbott’s smiling face in the crowd. I’d forgotten what a rush it is to be up here on stage...how every cell in my body is electrified—alive and pulsing with excitement. There’s a healing that comes from allowing yourself to be completely vulnerable. It’s empowering.

I gaze out into the crowd and almost instantly find Abbott’s eyes. I know that he is not here—that those eyes belong to Reid...but those are Abbott’s eyes. Those eyes are my comfort, and I want to drown in them.

Adrenaline causes my heartbeat to pulse loudly in my ears. I can’t believe Cassie convinced me to do this. I’ve never sung in front of a crowd before, and I never had any intentions of changing that. But Cassie and her big mouth had to mention what a “great” singer I am to Abbott, and he’s been begging me to sing for him at our favorite hangout ever since. We’ve been coming to Joey’s Bar as a group on karaoke night for a few months now, and none of us has ever braved the stage. We prefer to sit back and watch others make fools of themselves. At least, we did until tonight.

Abbott promised to perform solo if Cassie and I agreed to a duet. He knew that he would never get me up here alone, and somehow he convinced me that it would be worth it, but now that I’m standing here with sweaty palms on shaky legs, I’m not so sure. I try not to focus on the sea of drunken eyes before me as the music starts and instead hone in on mesmerizing blue in the front row.

Suddenly, I’m less nervous. Abbott has a way of doing that, of making me forget that anyone else exists but the two of us. There’s so much pride in his eyes, and that look gives me all of the confidence I need. The rest of the room disappears. There’s no band, no Cassie, no crowd. I sing for Abbott, and I perform for Abbott alone. Every sway of my hips, every shimmy, every shake is with the intent to fuel the hunger in his gaze.

Before I know it, the song is over, and Cassie has me wrapped up in her arms as the bar erupts with cheers. “Viv, oh my God, girl. You fucking nailed it! You were amazing! I was so scared that you would back out or freeze up. But, that was so...hot! Who knew you had that in you?”

I squeeze her tight and try to bring myself back into the moment. I feel as though I’ve just had sex on stage in front of a room full of people and only just realized that they were here watching the whole time. My intimate show is over, and it was anything but private.

Strong arms wrap around my middle, pulling me from Cassie’s grip. He smells delicious, and I want nothing more than for him to take me back to his place and make love to me with his body the way he just did with his eyes.

Spinning around in his arms, I lift up onto my toes and whisper, “Take me home,” seductively into his ear. I trail my tongue along the edge and feel his grip tighten on my waist.

Abbott chuckles. “Believe me, I want to...but I can’t,” he says with annoyance. “A bet’s a bet.”

To hell with the stupid bet. “Babe, nobody cares about that dumb bet. Let’s go home.” I try pulling his arm toward the exit, but he doesn’t budge. Is he serious?

“I care. Don’t worry, Hot Pants. I’ll take care of you later,” he promises, grabbing my ass with both hands and pulling my body flat against his.

I want to go total cave woman and beat him over the head with a club, dragging him out of here to have my way with him. I actually wonder for a moment if his body would still perform while he is knocked out. Would that be considered necrophilia? No. I bet they have another word for it. I’ll have to look that up...

“Don’t sulk,” he says, kissing my pouty lip. “If my singing affects you the way yours just did to me...tonight is going to be one for the record books,” he says, waggling his eyebrows with a goofy grin.

“Vivienne!” Cassie shouts, pulling on my arm. She sounds frustrated. I guess she’s been trying to get my attention for a while. “We have to get off the stage. We can’t just hang out up here. They’re ready for Abbott now.”

I hang my head like a toddler denied her way and beg Abbott with my eyes to reconsider as I begrudgingly allow Cassie to drag me off to the dance floor. He stares at me, grinning, and shakes his head to himself. Then, pulling at his lips, he turns back to the stage, completely dismissing me.

We walk through the smoky room to the bar and each order a beer. Strangers keep stopping us to tell us what a great job we did, but I don’t feel great. I feel horny, and I desperately need a drink.

“You girls were awesome up there tonight,” the bartender says as he hands us our drinks. “We don’t normally get real singers in here.”

Cassie nudges me with her elbow, grinning from ear to ear, and I look up, realizing that he was talking to me. “Oh, I’m not a singer. I just made a bet with my boyfriend. He’s up next.” I look over to Cassie, who is practically drooling over the guy, and smile. The bartender is covered in tattoos and piercings with well-defined muscles. Such a stereotype, and so Cassie’s type. “Come on, we need to get back. I don’t want to miss Abbott.”

She plants her spandex-clad ass on a bar stool, winking at the bartender. “You go, Viv...I’m gonna watch from here and keep...” she looks at him expectantly.

“Gage,” he answers with a sexy smirk.

“I’m gonna keep Gage here company.”

Leaving Cassie to do her thing, I squeeze myself through the packed room to the front of the stage. I’m groped and yelled at along the way, but I don’t care who I piss off. I’m not missing this for anything. Well, I would’ve missed it for something...

His music starts, and it needs no introduction. “Water Runs Dry” by Boyz II Men. We are nothing if not ambitious. Whitney Houston and Boyz II Men, I laugh to myself.

Abbott starts to sing, and he’s not great...but he’s not completely tone deaf, either. He’s decent enough for karaoke and shouldn’t embarrass himself too badly. We’ve definitely heard worse. I’m shaking I’m so nervous for him. Maybe even more than I was for myself.

“Let’s go into the water and drown, we might watch our whole lives pass us by,” he sings, and I question whether I’ve misheard him because everyone around me is acting normal while I am trying not to fall on the floor laughing. They are either too drunk to care or don’t know the song...which is impossible. Everyone knows this song. I must be mistaken.

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