Vivienne's Guilt (5 page)

Cassie is no longer laughing. In fact, she may be even more red in the face than Abbott’s mother. My friend glances down at Tillie cowering in my lap and says, “Baby girl, it’s ruthless not toothless,” and then she lifts her eyes to meet Elizabeth’s and continues in a voice just above a whisper, “but if you ever speak that way to Vivienne again...toothless just may work, too.”

Shock.

Radio silence.

I pass Tillie to my mother and ask her to take her back to the house for some dessert. As soon as they are out of earshot, I turn to Elizabeth and finally give her a piece of my mind. “Ms. Parker, this is neither the time nor the place for your tirade. You don’t know me, you didn’t
really
know
Abbott, and you most certainly will never have the pleasure of knowing our daughter. He wanted to cut off contact with you years ago. It is this ‘trash’,” I say, poking myself in the chest, “who convinced him to at least speak to you. I thought that
maybe
there was something worth saving, but Abbott was right all along. I don’t know how such rotten people created that beautiful man. He must’ve had some amazing nannies because I know damn well that you had nothing to do with it. Abbott was proof that we are not merely a product of our raising and thank God for that! You may see your way out.” I don’t bother sticking around to witness her reaction. I’ve already had more of her than I can take. Without a parting word or a backward glance, I stalk off toward the lake to blow off some steam.
How dare she?

I hear footsteps coming from behind as I approach the wharf and turn to see Abbott’s brother, Dave, following a few yards behind. I hope he’s not here to give me shit over his mother because I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I seat myself at the end of the wharf with my feet dangling over the edge and wait.

I feel the wood give a little as he plops himself down next to me. “Hey, pretty girl. How ya holdin’ up?” he asks, and I’m relieved to see that he appears genuinely concerned. Dave is an older version of Abbott: same hair, same eyes, same frame. He is exactly what I imagine Abbott would have looked like ten or so years from now. It almost hurts to look at him. The last time I saw Dave, Tillie was barely a year old. He and Abbott were really close before his mother started shit over the family business, and they’ve hardly spoken since. I can see the regret written all over his face.

“Ah, I’ve been better,” I respond honestly. “I don’t know if I can do this. I mean...I know I have to, but I’m scared. I’m so, so scared, and I just don’t know how I could ever be truly happy without him.” I use my sleeve to wipe my tears.
God, I am such a fucking mess.

“I know there’s nothing I can say to make this easier for you. I’m really sorry about Mother. I’m not sure what was said, but I know that you wouldn’t have started anything today of all days. She just doesn’t know when to quit,” he offers, shaking his head. “I have so many regrets where Abbott is concerned. I wish I could go back and change things, but I can’t. I’m sorry for that, too. More than you will ever know.” Dave stares out into the water. “I want to help you. I know you have the camp starting up next month. Reid is graduating next week,” he says with a smile.

I return his smile with one of my own. “He can’t possibly be that old already. He is forever a ten-year-old little boy in my eyes.” I haven’t seen little Reid in years.

“It’s been too long since we’ve gotten together. He’s all grown up, Viv. Starting at Tulane this fall...following in his uncle’s footsteps. He wanted to be here today, but he’s in Europe on his senior trip and couldn’t get back in time. I was thinking...maybe we could send Reid out here early to help you with the camp this summer. I know it’ll be hard on you with Tillie and just losing Abbott. Reid can drive a boat. He’s a great outdoorsman and kids love him.”

“Oh, do you think he would want to? That would be amazing, Dave. I feel so overwhelmed right now. It would be a huge relief. I would love to get to know him again and for Tillie to spend some time with her only cousin. But only if he lets me pay him. No eighteen-year-old wants to spend their summer working for free.”
Maybe something good will come out of this dreadful day after all.

Dave’s face lights up. I can tell he’s truly excited about being able to do something for us. “Of course he’ll want to. We’re family, Viv. It’s time we start acting like it. If you want to approach it as a summer job and pay him, I won’t object. But you don’t have to. He needs to get out here a little early for football conditioning, anyway. It’ll give him a place to stay and the comfort of family. And it will give his old man peace of mind.” He pats me on the back and then pushes himself up off the dock. “I’m glad we had this time to talk. I’ll be in touch about Reid, but, unfortunately, I have to get going. My plane leaves in a few hours, and I need to get back to my hotel and pack my things...find Mother,” he says with an exaggerated eye roll. “Don’t be a stranger, Viv. We want to know that you and Tillie are okay.” He helps me up and gives me a hug. It’s warm and welcoming, and I can’t help but wish it was his brother’s arms instead. He takes a few steps toward the house and then turns and calls out, “You call if you or Tillie need anything, Viv. We want to help.” And then he’s gone.

Vivienne

I open my eyes and strain to see the red numbers glowing on the alarm clock beside my bed: 2:32 A.M.
Well, if I can’t sleep, might as well take advantage of the alone time.
I roll over and reach across the bed in an attempt to seduce my sleeping husband. When all I grasp are sheets and blankets, it all comes back. That piercing ache. My heart. My Abbott.
He’s gone.

I curl into a ball and clutch at my burning heart as I scream out in agony. It hurts.
Oh God, it hurts so badly
. I just want the pain to stop, and then again I don’t. Because if I stop thinking of him, stop aching for him, then I will begin to forget. And, I can’t ever forget.

His scent no longer lingers on my bed sheets. I can feel him slipping away, and it is too much, and still it’s not enough.

Sweat beads on my skin and I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I’m suffocating in my grief. It’s like burning lava coursing through my veins. A pain so excruciating, so unbearable, that for a moment I just want to die, too. I want to escape this agony and follow my heart to wherever he’s gone. Because a life without him, this life I’m pretending to live, is almost too much to bear.

And that thought leads to guilt. How can I, even for mere seconds, want to leave my daughter all alone in this world? It’s selfish, and it’s wrong.
I’m a horrible mother.

With trembling hands, I pull open the drawer to my nightstand and manage to open the prescription bottle and tap a Xanax into my palm. I take deep breaths and try not to pass out as I slowly ease into a sitting position. I open the bottle of water that I keep next to my bed, swallow the pill, and I wait. I wait for the medicine to calm my racing heart. To clear my clouded vision. To ease the dizzying nausea.

The panic attacks are worse now than ever. They usually come at night. At night, when I am alone. When I can drift off and for a blessed moment in time forget that my entire life has been upended. That I will never again feel his touch, taste his lips, or feel his hair slide through my fingertips. I will never again feel him moving over me—inside of me. And when that realization hits, it’s like I’m standing inside of a burning building with no escape.

As the attack subsides, I glance back over to the clock: 3:03 A.M.
What will I do for the next three and a half hours?
I grab my phone from under my pillow and bring up the picture of Abbott and Tillie; the one he sent me right before the accident. I’ve spent countless hours staring at his radiant smile. That smile. That smile that will never again brighten my days.

I put the phone down and try to fall back asleep, but my mind won’t shut off. Memories of Abbott flood my thoughts. I touch my fingers to my lips and smile as I remember our first kiss.

It was Halloween of 2001, my first year at Tulane, and my first frat party. My roommate, Cassie, and I decided to wear complementing costumes because that’s what corny, college freshman BFFs do.

“How’s my tail, Viv? Is it centered?” Cassie asks as she climbs out of the cab, stumbling over the curb.

“It’s as centered as it’s going to be. I’m not playing with your ass in front of all of these hot guys,” I answer, shaking my head at how ridiculous she looks trying to see her own ass from over her shoulder. “Find a bathroom and check it out in the mirror or something. It’s hanging a little to the left.”

“That’s what she said! Ba dum bum tsssss!” Cass jokes. “Oh come on, Viv! I need you. You can’t let me go in there looking a mess.”

Great. Now she’s begging.

“No one will see. Just fix my ass. Fix it or I’ll embarrass you. You know I will,” she threatens.

And I know she will. Ugh. “Hurry up. Get over here.” I adjust the pin attaching the pointy black tail to her red spandex pants and then slap her on the ass for good measure.

“Vivienne? Is that you, angel? Where have you been all my life?” Oh God. Oh God. I know that voice. Of course he would be the one to walk up and catch me slapping another girl’s ass.

I’m so surprised that I choke on my own saliva. Way to be sexy. Why couldn’t it have been anyone else?

“Oh, shit, are you okay, Viv?” he asks as he rushes over to pat me on the back.

I don’t even attempt to disguise it as I openly check him out. Black fitted, v-neck tee, fuck me jeans, and damn he smells good. Like beer and cologne...“I want to lick him.”

Cassie lets out a loud guffaw, and I realize that I may have just said that out loud. Fuck Cassie for making me drink so much before the party.

“You want to lick who, babe? Cuz if there’s any chance that you meant me...lick away. And you don’t have to stop there. I’m down for making all of your fantasies come true,” Abbott says as his hand stills on my waist.

I look up and meet his gaze. I am frozen in place, hypnotized by those damn crystal blue eyes. I should be embarrassed. I would be if I could form a coherent thought.

“Okay...so you two love birds have at that shit. I’m going to find me a drink and a man...in that order,” my best friend says before giving me a wink and walking away. She walks away!

Abbott reaches up and adjusts my halo. If you haven’t figured it out by now, Cassie is a sexy little devil, and I am her opposite: an innocent angel. Well, innocent is a stretch. There’s not much innocent about this costume. I suddenly feel extremely underdressed.

“Thanks, Abbott. I...ummm...” I cover my face with my hands and take a deep breath before I continue. “God, I’m so embarrassed. I didn’t mean to say that. I’m sorry. Truly.”

“I really hope you don’t mean that.”

“What? That I’m embarrassed?”

“No, not that. That you didn’t mean it. Because I did.”

“Well, I mean, I didn’t mean to say it, you know...out loud...” I stammer. Why am I so nervous? Abbott’s my friend. We’ve been friends for months. Why do I suddenly feel like a stranger? Like I’m bumping into him for the first time? He must think I am an idiot.

“So, you do want to lick me, then...That’s good. Really good, Viv,” Abbott slurs.

“Is it?” I ask in a whisper.

“Mmmhmm.” He pulls me closer. My face is now even with his chest, his erection pressing against my stomach.

His erection. Holy crap, I gave Abbott Parker a hard on. At least I’m assuming it was me. Oh God, I am so drunk.

I look up to find him staring down at me. And as if my body has a mind of its own, I rise up on my toes and wrap my arms around his neck.

“Viv,” Abbott whispers, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips.

“Yeah?”

Abbott places his free hand on my face and begins to slowly rub his thumb across my trembling lips. “Viv,” he whispers once more, and there is so much yearning in the way that he says my name. I feel liquid heat pool in my belly as I slide my tongue out to taste his salty skin.

And that is all the permission Abbott needs to pull my face into his and press his lips to mine. He runs his tongue along the seam of my mouth, and I open for him. Our tongues meet in tentative strokes before finding their rhythm, and I am lost in his kiss. Nothing else exists but this moment. I slide my hands up the sides of his smooth face and into his short, blond hair, tugging gently. Abbott groans in response and moves his hands down to my ass and squeezes as he pulls me impossibly closer. Our kiss becomes more urgent. Lips melding. Tongues thrashing. Licking. Teasing. Tasting. And then he continues licking and sucking down my face to my neck. I rock into his erection and whimper, which seems to urge him on. He works his way back to my mouth and our tongues war with each other in primal need. My God, I never want this moment to end.

Through a haze, I register what sounds like hooting and hollering, and it takes a moment for me to realize that we are the cause. I break the kiss and whisper, “Abbott...Abbott, stop.”