by Olivia Janae
“I promise no such thing!”
“Well then you can’t see it!”
Vivian glared and snatched the picture before Kate saw her coming. “Oh my god!” Vivian cried, her face jubilant as she turned the photo around for Kate to see.
Even to Kate, the twenty-four-year-old version of herself looked so young, despite it being only four short years ago. Her hair was back in a ponytail, as always. She was dressed in her concert blacks, and thick, black-framed sunglasses covered her pregnancy-swollen face.
“Your belly is huge!”
“I know! I put on, like, thirty pounds.”
Vivian returned the photo to Kate and went back to her laces, her eyebrows drawn into a pinched line.
Kate paused beside her dresser. She could tell from the way Vivian was avoiding eye contact that she had something to say, so she went on dressing, one eye on Vivian as she waited. It took a long time. Kate was dressed by the time Vivian finally spoke.
“Do you think you would want to get pregnant again?”
Startled, Kate dropped the hairbrush she had been holding, her head whipping around to look at Vivian. “What?”
Vivian studied her shoes, picking at invisible nothings along the sole. “Do you think you would want to get pregnant again?”
“You want more kids?”
Vivian gave a soft laugh, shifting as she looked away. “Any children, you mean.”
Kate frowned. “Right. Uh, why are you asking?”
“I don’t know.” Vivian shrugged, a very un-Vivian thing to do, and finally looked at her. “We’ve been dating for several months now. We’re both in our thirties—”
“Uh, not yet thirty, thank you,” Kate teased. She wasn’t as uncomfortable with this subject as she thought she should be and that, in and of itself, made her grow all the more uncomfortable.
“All right, we’re both nearly thirty. In fact, I, personally, am even a few years past thirty, so I suppose I’m asking because you ask different questions while dating in your thirties than you do when you’re in your twenties.”
“Uh-huh.” Kate nodded, playing at thinking it over. She knew her answer. She had been raised with no family whatsoever, bounced around from home to home. She knew by the age of fifteen that she wanted a whole horde of children. She wanted so many children she could create her own sports team. Just so long as she had a significant other to help referee. She wanted to create a home. She wanted a house filled with the laughter and bickering of children, she wanted to know someone perfectly, she wanted a dog, and science fair experiments, and soccer practices at night, and dance classes in the morning. She wanted the American dream. “Does that mean that, um, well, I mean, if you and I ended up together, you would want more kids than Max?” They had just gone through a rough patch, and yet this picture was so easy to see.
Vivian smiled her all-consuming grin. “Don’t you think Max would want brothers and sisters?”
Kate’s heart stopped and restarted hard in her chest once, twice, three times, but she did her best at calm, cool, and collected. “I don’t know, why don’t we ask him?” Vivian laughed and threw a pillow at her. “How many do you want?”
“Three.”
“Three total or three more?”
Vivian beamed, her rich brown eyes shining. “More.”
Kate bit her lip, leaning against the far wall. “That’s a lot of kids.”
Vivian just smiled.
“Do you want to get pregnant?”
“Yes.”
Kate couldn’t help but beam back. Casually, as casually as she could manage, she leaned over and picked up the brush. “You know. I’ve always wanted to adopt, too. So many children need a home.”
“That’s funny.”
“What?”
“I have, too.”
“Max, we need to go!”
Max came stomping out of his room with his tie in his hand and tears on his face. “I can’t do it!”
Vivian and Kate exchanged a look to substitute for the squeals they decided to keep in. Max in his little blue suit was the cutest thing Kate had ever seen, and she was sure from Vivian’s face that she would agree.
Vivian beckoned to him and took his tie. “Turn around.”
Max did, and Vivian immediately attacked the back of his neck with kisses. He squealed, caught off-guard, and collapsed into her lap, tipping them both backward into a tumbling, giggling pile.
Kate smiled. No, she really wouldn’t mind having more of everything with this woman.
1
Vivian rang the ostentatious doorbell of the Kensington mansion, her lips pressed into a thin line as they always did whenever she was within a hundred yards of her childhood home.
“Hi, guys.” Jacqueline’s assistant, Leigh, gave them an eager smile; her hands clasped in front of her as though she had been waiting by the door all day.
“Hello, Leigh,” Vivian said with a nod, her unusual-sounding voice thick as though it protested where they were.
“Jacqueline and her guests are in the study. Charlotte got here a few minutes ago.”
“Oh boy,” Vivian muttered to herself, gently pushing past Leigh and into the grand foyer. “Let’s go and save her, shall we?”
Vivian and Kate walked toward the study with grim smiles on their faces, Max’s hands in each of their own.
“Guys, this is going to be fine,” Kate insisted and then pulled on Vivian’s arm a little to get her attention. “Really. It’s going to be fine. We had a great day, and this isn’t going to change that.” Kate wasn’t sure if she was saying it to assure Vivian or herself.
Thus far, she hadn’t had a single pleasant experience when Vivian’s mother was a part of it, but she hated how straight Vivian’s back was, how Max looked both excited and nervous.
She hiked up the cello that was strapped to her back and popped her neck. “It’ll be great.”
Cheeks hollowed and lips thin, Vivian gave a quick nod that felt less like an agreement and more like a request for silence.
“So, um, Charlotte?” Kate chuckled as they walked across the marble floor and toward the kitchen hallway. The guests would have taken the long way, Kate knew, heading up the grand staircase and then through the door on the right, only to have to descend that staircase on the other side. Vivian preferred the shortcut that allowed them to slip in the side door with little notice; Kate knew that, too. “I didn’t know there were people brave enough to call Charlie by her full name.”
Vivian scoffed, stopping by the kitchen on their way to grab a glass of wine. “No, there aren’t many. Charlie has been going by that name since I met her. I suppose there is really only one person who blatantly ignores her name request... one person and her assistant.” Vivian clicked her tongue. “I suppose it is my mother’s forte.”
“I noticed.” Kate had discovered early that Vivian was not a fan of nicknames. Charlie, her oldest friend, often called her “Viv,” which seemed to be acceptable. However, the fact that Jacqueline called her daughter ”Vivi” was not. Kate had been meaning to ask why her mother did that since Halloween when she first met Jacqueline, but the timing had never been right. She had a feeling that the name was a sore spot, anyway. Kate could hear the great murmur of a crowd on the other side of the kitchen door. She was about to give in and finally ask the question when they stepped through and were seized upon with a startling speed.
Vivian gave a small, deep-throated yelp of surprise as they were suddenly face to face with her mother.
Jacqueline frowned for a second, looking around as though making sure no one had heard Vivian’s slip.
Jacqueline, it seemed, had always been in denial about her daughter’s deafness, sending her to all the best speech therapists money could buy until Vivian had been able to speak nearly as well as most hearing children. However, no matter how much Jacqueline tried, the timbre of Vivian’s voice had never sounded completely “correct.” Vivian was deaf, and her voice, though well-spoken and professional, was s
lightly different. It bothered Jacqueline to no end, causing a constant strain between them.
Vivian felt that tension, too, and was never as polite, never as well-spoken or perfection-hungry, as when she was in her mother’s presence.
Kate, for her part, rarely remembered that Vivian was “different.” She liked her voice, she liked Vivian, and she really didn’t care about Jacqueline’s agenda at all.
“Good evening,” Jacqueline smiled politely, when she decided that no one in the big crowd had been close enough to be reminded that the Kensington daughter, president of the WCCE board of directors, and member of the board for the J.C. Kensington Foundation was deaf.
Jacqueline leaned forward, kissing Kate’s cheek in greeting and giving Vivian a dry peck before she leaned down and planted a big, wet one on Max’s forehead.
Max flinched, blinking repeatedly as if stunned. He made a face, wiping at the spot and grumbling about lipstick kisses. “I can’t get it off!” he cried when the ruby red just smeared across his face.
“Sorry, kid,” Kate laughed, grabbing a napkin and wiping. “You’re surrounded by women. That means lipstick.”
“You don’t wear lipstick!” Max frowned.
Vivian smiled, wrapping an arm around Kate’s waist. “She doesn’t need it.”
“Mommy!” Max whined as Kate had to rub a little harder than felt good.
Charlie scoffed, appearing from the crowd with a drink in hand and a smile that let them know she had heard the whole exchange. “Don’t worry, in a few years he’ll love the fact that he’s the man of the house.”
Kate rolled her eyes, torn between hugging her friend hello and smacking her a little.
“Ms. Hseih!” Jacqueline hissed, her hand on her heart as though she couldn’t stand the scandal of what Charlie had just said. She spent another moment glancing around, while the three friends all sucked in air and looked pointedly in opposite directions as they tried to swallow their amusement.
When she was sure that they had not been overheard, the cool calm that was Jacqueline slid once more into place. She cleared her throat, her back straightening perfectly as her red-painted lips pursed. “Please refrain, Ms. Hseih, from your less-than-appropriate behavior for once in your life.” She straightened her already crisply pressed skirt. “If you two must insist on behaving like children, then I will be forced to ignore you.” With that, she took Kate’s elbow, turned her toward the group of waiting people, and began to introduce Kate and Max to members of the crowd.
Kate recognized a few faces from the Foundation’s Halloween benefit, people who all looked surprisingly eager to shake her hand. She smiled graciously, noticing the way that Jacqueline was openly preening beside her as each person approached.
“Ms. Flynn!”
An awkward hand, the opposite of what would have fit into her own, slid into her grip and began to squeeze.
“Hilary!” Kate gulped thickly.
Hilary Ajam stood before her, arm encased in metal pins. She was the original cellist for the WCCE, the job that Kate now had. As a matter of fact, the only reason Kate currently had the position was because Hilary had been in an accident.
Hilary smiled brightly. “It’s good to see you again!”
Kate cleared her throat, suddenly uncomfortable.
Her contract had been for a year, with an optional second year, one that was highly likely as it was going to be a long road of recovery for Hilary. Not too long ago, however, Kate had met Hilary in Vivian’s office, where she swore she would be able to come back next season. With one meeting, she’d taken away Kate’s second year and her stability.
Understandably, Kate didn’t know how to react to her cheerfulness.
“Hilary, how are you? How’s the injuries?”
“Oh,” she sighed, “the leg is giving me trouble, but it’s the wrist that matters.”
“Right.” Kate nodded, unsure of what else to say.
“What happened to your—” Max started, but Kate reached down, her hand tight on his shoulder.
He seemed to get the message because, with a glare, his mouth closed.
“Sorry about that. Kids.”
Hilary just smiled back, and in the smile, the tension was palpable. Both parties knew they were fighting for the same job.
“Ms. Ajam, it’s lovely to see you,” Jacqueline said with her usual polite professionalism. “If you’ll excuse us, we have a few people to meet. Please, sit down, and let Leigh know if you need anything.”
Kate let Jacqueline pull her away, her jaw tight.
She felt bad; she had no reason to feel as though Hilary was trying to take her job, it was technically hers after all, and yet the sight of her made her stomach cramp.
“Oh, and here’s Mr. Altman,” she heard Jacqueline say.
Kate’s already tight stomach closed in on itself as she tried to process the one-two punch. Her stomach dropped to her knees before settling in its rightful place with a sickening lurch. Mr. Altman wasn’t an intimidating man. As a matter of fact, his wild, ratty hair and his walking cane gave him a misleading air of battiness, and yet, as the director of Chicago’s Lyric Opera, he held her dream job in his hands. That was enough to turn Kate’s brain into mush.
“Mr. Altman!” she said though a stickily dry mouth. She hadn’t been prepared to see Hilary, and now she wasn’t prepared to see him. She kicked herself; she should have assumed he would be there. “Good to see you again, sir.” She knew she needed to get herself together or else she would never be able to face him without making him look at her as he was now, as though he was concerned about her wellbeing.
“You’re becoming a regular occurrence, Ms. Flynn.”
Unsure if this was a compliment or not, she smiled vaguely. “This is my son, Max.”
“Lovely to meet you, Max.” Mr. Altman gave a small nod, barely glancing at her son who was staring at him in fascination.
“What happened to your leg?”
Kate flushed and nudged him hard in the back, earning herself a scowl from her towheaded boy. They had just done this. Was he serious?
“I’m sorry. Apparently, he was raised by wolves.”
“It’s quite all right.” Mr. Altman gave a polite but vacant smile and excused himself to speak to Jacqueline.
As soon as they were out of his gaze, Kate dragged Max back to Vivian and Charlie. “Are you kidding me, kid? I know I raised you better than that.”
“Charlie said that he’s a cyborg!” Max announced, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he tried to get a better look over her shoulder. “Do you think that’s true, Mommy?”
“Charlie!”
“Careful, Max.” Charlie grinned and gave Kate a playful wink. “You’re going to get your mom in trouble with her future boss!”
“Funny, Char. Funny.” She hissed to cover the fact that the very idea made her knees shake.
Leigh delivered a glass of wine to Kate, as well as Vivian’s second, and they stuffed themselves into a tiny loveseat on the perimeter of the room, Max in between them and Charlie perched on the arm.
“Really, Ms. Hseih, must you behave like a heathen? Are there no more chairs in this entire house? Is this how your aunt raised you?” Jacqueline hissed as she blew by.
Charlie glared at Jacqueline’s back and took a long pull from her drink.
Eyebrows high, Kate looked between Vivian and Charlie, both looking sour. It was clear they hated being home.
Across the room, Kate noticed Hilary was watching and swallowed thickly, pretending she hadn’t seen.
“Charlie, you said you grew up nearby, right?”
Charlie nodded and pointed vaguely out of the window. “Two houses down.”
“And, your aunt? What did…” Kate let the question trail off as Charlie just gave a shrug. There was still so much she didn’t know about these women. Had Charlie not been raised by her parents? Had they had that in common, and Kate had never known it?
The four of them sat in silence as they w
atched the group of guests politely interact, every now and then exchanging looks that read of boredom.
Vivian and Charlie unabashedly plowed through wine as quickly as Leigh could bring it, making Leigh steadily more nervous as she refilled again and again.
“Mommy!” Max complained after a while, wanting to get up, run, play, but Kate pulled him back in his seat.
“I’m sorry you’re bored, Max.” Vivian silently signed and then hurried on with a speed that Kate couldn’t follow. A little taken aback, she glanced at Max, who seemed to be following along perfectly.
He grinned. “Okay!”
Kate frowned. “What did she say?”
“She said her mommy makes good chocolate pie, and we’re gonna eat it soon,” Max answered, his squirming increasing in his excitement.
Kate nodded and glanced at Charlie and Vivian, but it seemed Vivian hadn’t seen her speak and Charlie hadn’t heard.
“Jacqueline, when are you going to bring out that harp of yours?” Across the room Mr. Altman called to Jacqueline just as Kate’s eyes were beginning to droop.
This woke her fully, forcing her upright so she could glance around the room at the vaguely pleased expressions. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, and yet they all seemed to have fallen into a stupor. She looked to her cello, which was hidden in the corner, nerves striking with a knowing vengeance. Would Jacqueline really ask her to perform in front of a room of the Chicago arts community figureheads? In front of Mr. Altman and Hilary?
Jacqueline had been speaking to a small man beside the table of snacks and looked up, feigning shock at the request. “Oh, Carlyle. Should I? Is that something everyone would enjoy?”
A look of dry amusement on her face, Charlie translated Jacqueline’s words for Vivian. Vivian scoffed, rolling her eyes, and the two women shared a silent laugh. Even Kate had to bite back a smirk at the opaque innocence on Jacqueline’s face.
“What’s funny?” Max asked, looking between them.
“Nothing, buddy,” Kate said, biting the inside of her lip.
