Chapter 7: Burgundy In The Hallway
The door to the dressing suite opened without a knock.
I heard the click first and looked up. Mom always told me you could tell how mad someone was by how they opened a door. Vivian didn't slam it. She turned the brass handle slow and pushed it just enough to step through, and the man in the black suit behind her stayed in the hallway where the carpet met the tile.
My duffel was on the little velvet couch now. Richard had put it there after he zipped it closed again, and my cloth was back in my hand where it belonged. I had the ring inside it, folded twice, and I was holding it against my chest under my shawl.
Vivian smiled but it didn't go up to her eyes. Her necklace caught the light when she moved. She didn't look at me at first. She looked at Richard.
"Richard, I handled it," she said. Her voice was low and smooth, like she was still at the party. "There's a car at the service exit. James here is with building security. He can take her to the county youth shelter for the night. It's warm, it's safe, and it keeps the press from making a story out of a little girl who wandered in."
James didn't come in. He kept his hands folded in front of him and looked at the wall past us. I could hear the ballroom music still going, faint through the walls, and the clink of glasses.
Richard was still kneeling next to me. He hadn't stood up since Vivian knocked before. He turned his head to look at her, then at James, then back to me.
I didn't know what a county youth shelter was, but I knew what county meant. That was who came when Mom didn't wake up. A lady in a county jacket had stood in our apartment doorway with a clipboard and said I couldn't stay there alone. I felt my fingers curl tighter around my cloth without meaning to.
Vivian took another step into the room. She finally looked down at me.
"Sweetheart, it's just for tonight," she said. "Someone kind will get you settled. You don't want to be in the middle of grown-up things."
She reached out her hand a little, palm up, like she wanted me to take it.
I didn't take it. I stepped back and my shoulder hit Richard's arm. I moved behind him so his blue suit jacket was between me and her. My shawl slipped a little and I pulled the cloth even tighter. I could feel the hard little circle of Mom's ring through the fabric against my palm.
"No," I said. It came out quiet. "I don't want to go with him."
My voice made a small sound in my throat after. Richard must have felt me shaking because he put his hand lightly on my arm to keep me there, not pulling me, just steadying.
Vivian's smile thinned. She looked at Richard again.
"Richard, be reasonable," she said. Her voice got a little faster. "There are two hundred people out there. People with phones. Our foundation donors. If they see her here with us all night, they'll invent whatever story they want. This protects her too. And it protects Caroline's memory from becoming gossip."
When she said Mom's name it sounded different than when Richard said it. Like she wanted to fold it up and put it away.
Richard stood up slowly. I had to look way up to see his face now. He was breathing slow and his jaw moved once before he talked.
"No," he said.
Vivian blinked. "No?"
"No car. No shelter." He didn't raise his voice. He kept it level, but his hand stayed near me. "She's not getting into a car with strangers tonight. She's staying with me until I understand what Caroline tried to tell me."
Vivian's hands, which had been clasped so neat in front of her burgundy dress, twisted together. The sapphires flashed.
"Richard, you don't understand what you're doing," she said. "That woman made a choice years ago. You can't let a child and a story walk back in here and undo everything we've built. I'm trying to help you."
"You're trying to erase her," he said. He glanced down at the envelope on the little table by the mirror. My mom's letter was still in there, and the photo. He didn't pick it up. He just made sure it was still there. "Ellie brought me something I should have seen seven years ago. I'm not putting her on a sidewalk in the dark so the party stays comfortable."
James in the hallway shifted his weight and looked at Vivian for a signal. She didn't give him one. She stared at Richard, and for a second her face wasn't smooth at all. Her mouth was tight and her eyes were wet but she wasn't crying like I was.
"So what do you want me to tell them out there?" she asked.
"Tell them I'm with my daughter," Richard said. "If they ask."
I felt my cloth crumple harder in my fist. Daughter. He said it and didn't take it back. I stayed behind his leg and breathed.
Vivian looked at me once more, then at Richard. She didn't argue again. She stepped back toward the door.
"Fine," she said, quiet. "Then you stay in this suite. Don't bring her back through the ballroom until you know what story you're telling. I'll keep them out of this hallway."
She pulled the door open wider. James stepped back to let her pass. She didn't slam it either when she left, but the click when it closed was louder this time.
Richard let out a long breath and knelt back down to where I could see his eyes. He didn't ask me to let go of my cloth. He just nodded at it.
May you like
"You're safe here," he said. "No car. Okay?"
I nodded and didn't move from behind him. The music in the ballroom kept playing, but in that little room it felt very far away.
