“She’s scared. It’s a huge, hard decision to make, and—”
“And she said she’s not gonna do it. Ever. He’s going to keep hanging on, wasting away more and more.” Leaving Remy alone.
“Give her some time to think about it—cool off. It’s not like it’s an easy decision to make.”
“So what does that say about me?”
She squeezes my hand. “That you know this isn’t what your dad would’ve wanted. Would you want to live like that?”
I shake my head.
“Look, why don’t you spend the night at my house tonight? That’ll give both of you a break.”
I sniff and look away from her. “Um, actually, Ari called and asked if I wanted to hang out.”
Nicki starts the car. “Oh, why didn’t you have Ari pick you up then?”
“Because you already said you would!”
“I thought you might need someone to talk to, but you and Ari can have a nice chat about all of this.” Nicki puts the car in reverse, and then pulls out of the parking space a little too fast.
“Nicki, it’s not like that, and I don’t want to talk to Ari about this stuff. She just sounded lonely. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. And when I told her you were picking me up, she said she’d love for you to come too. I only said yes because I thought you’d be with me.”
Nicki gives me an incredulous look. “I don’t for one second believe Ari wants me to come over. You should’ve seen her staring daggers at me at the tryouts when the new director clapped after my audition.”
“Seriously, she told me to ask you over. I was talking to her when you pulled up. She said her pool is open—and heated. And get this, she told me to tell you they have a movie-viewing room and a bunch of bootlegged recordings of Broadway shows—shows that were never supposed to be filmed.”
Nicki turns to me quickly with one eyebrow raised again. “Like what?”
“I didn’t ask—that’s more your deal—but she obviously only mentioned it because she wanted you to come. And Luke said Ari is kind of complicated, so she—”
“Oh,” Nicki says, drawing out the word. “And when were you talking to Luke?”
My cheeks burn. “I … just … kind of ran into him—an out-of-the-blue kind of thing.”
Nicki rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh. Good thing you and Ryan will be working closely this summer.”
“I’ll have you know Ryan and I have our summer completely planned. When we’re not at Land of Enchantment, we’re going to be hiking the Presidential Range. Well, we’ve started with some of the smaller mountains to work up to the big guns, but we have a book where we can check off each hike, and I started a scrapbook with pictures of us at the summits.”
Nicki yawns. “Scrapbook? Must be love. Anyway, someone on this Broadway message board said there’s a bootlegged copy of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels making the rounds. I wonder if Ari has that. I’d love to see Norbert Leo Butz.”
“Norbert Leo Butz?”
“Don’t let the name fool you, the man is a comedic genius—a genius with a voice to die for.” Nicki glances down at the center console, grabs her CD carrier, and tosses it over to me. “See if you can find the soundtrack— it’s hilarious.”
“I take it this means you’ve changed your mind about going to Ari’s?”
She smiles at me. “Sure, let’s get our suits and head over. I’m not sure I’ll go swimming, though.”
“It’ll be just us girls,” I say, knowing Nicki feels overexposed in a bathing suit.
“We’ll see.”
Nicki and I stand on Ari’s front steps, staring at the door knocker—a tarnished brass rabbit with an arrow through its chest. My hand is poised over the knocker part, which is shaped in the form of a bow with the string pulled back in a wide arc.
“I can’t do it,” I say, pulling my hand back.
“Yeah, that’s more than a little disturbing,” Nicki whispers.
“Let’s just ring the bell again.” I push the button, and the seemingly endless chimes begin again. “Someone’s got to hear that.”
Nicki cocks her head and examines the rabbit. “Where would a person even find a knocker like that? Creep and Barrel?” She grimaces and pushes the bell again.
“I’m coming!” a voice yells from inside.
“That sounds like Ari’s stepmother,” I say in a hushed voice. “Brace yourself.”
The door flies open and Miss Patty gawks at us. I force myself to keep my smile steady as I take Patty in. She’s forgotten to draw on one of her eyebrows, and her mascara is smudged and gathered in the creases under her eyes. She’s wearing a pink velour jumpsuit that’s a little too snug across her stomach, and several of her hair extensions are dangling by their clips.
“Morgan!” she croaks. She wobbles a bit, and then steadies herself by grabbing the doorframe. She squints and leans toward me, alcohol burning on her breath. “No, it’s Megan,” she says, giving me a wink. “I never forget an enchanted team member.”
“I’ll bet,” I say, trying not to stare at her one eyebrow.
I guess she has the right to do whatever she wants after business hours, but hearing her slur her words and watching her clutch the doorframe in order to hold herself up is a stark contrast to the overly bubbly woman I interviewed with. “Ari invited us over. This is Nicki—she’s not an enchanted team member.”
Miss Patty stumbles back a few steps and opens her arms wide. “Well, let me welcome you to our humble abode.”
We step in and it’s obvious there’s nothing humble about this place. Marble staircase, crystal chandeliers—it’s like walking into Cinderella’s palace at Land of Enchantment, but all of this stuff looks real.
“Deborah!” Miss Patty screeches. Nicki and I jump and exchange looks. “Deborah!”
A small woman with gray hair done up in a tight knot and wearing a maid’s uniform hurries down the hallway toward us. “Yes, Miss?”
“Where’s Ari?”
“Last I saw her she was up in the study.”
Miss Patty jerks her head toward us. “Oh, well, Ari’s always got her nose in a book.” She chews on her lip, nibbling off what’s left of her hot pink lipstick, and then turns back to Deborah. “Why don’t you show these girls to the entertainment room? I’d better find Ari myself.”
“Certainly, Miss.” Deborah gives us a weary smile. “Right this way, ladies.” She leads us down the long hall and into a large room with dark wood-paneled walls. “Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you some iced tea.”
“Thanks,” I say, thinking it would suck to be a maid here with people barking orders.
After Deborah leaves, Nicki twirls a finger at the side of her head. “Ari’s stepmom is craaazy!” she says. “And apparently cocktail hour comes way earlier here than at my house.”
I nod. “Told you things weren’t all ‘happily ever after’ at Casa Roy.”
“And look at this room,” she says.
I walk in a circle, taking it in. Leather couches, ginormous flat-screen TV, shelves lined with DVDs and old VHS tapes, tapestries depicting various hunting scenes, and a multitude of taxidermic animal heads staring around the room with blank glass eyes. “Decorating with dead things— very classy.”
Nicki walks up to three bear heads mounted in a row on the wall, their mouths frozen in never-ending snarls. “So this is what happened to the Three Bears. Wouldn’t Martha Stewart have a seizure if she saw these hanging on the wall?”
“Some dead relative killed them in Germany—Black Forest. Hunting was big back then for the aristocracy.”
I jump and turn around. Ari is standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest, eyes narrowed, staring coldly at me. “Glad you could make it, Nicki,” she says, her eyes still focused on me.
My face flushes as Ari’s eyes continue to bore into me with such intense scrutiny that I immediately regret feeling sorry for her and agreeing to come over. “Uh, hey, Ari,” I say softly, wishing she’d stop lo
oking at me like that.
She saunters into the room, running her fingers along the edge of a leather couch laden with animal pelts. She stops a few feet away from me and plops down in an overstuffed chair. “So, Megan, what’s up?” Her lips turn up ever so slightly to make a tight smile.
“Um, up?” I stammer. “Nothing’s up, we just came over to see you—you know, you called and, uh …” I give Nicki a sideways look and see she’s just as puzzled by Ari’s ice-queen act as I am.
“Hey, did you look over all of our music yet?” Nicki asks, coming to my rescue. “At first I was worried all the focus on old jazz might not pull in the tourist crowds, but after I’ve listened to the songs a few times, I’m excited. You know I love Broadway, but this will be a nice change.”
“Yeah, and lucky you getting to sing ‘Someone to Watch Over Me’ all by yourself.”
“Actually, that one was from a Broadway play, but—”
“So, Megan,” Ari says, interrupting Nicki. “Did you do anything interesting today? Or see anyone interesting?”
My mind scrambles. Would Dr. Macardo qualify as interesting?
And then it clicks. Luke.
Somehow Ari knows I saw Luke and she’s beyond pissed off thinking I was pulling a Samantha Lee Darling on her. My heart races as I struggle to come up with some sort of reason for being there—a reason that doesn’t involve Remy.
“Oh, well, uh,” I stammer. I swallow hard and then it comes to me. I sit on a couch opposite her and try to look self-conscious. “This is sort of embarrassing, but you’ll love this—you too, Nicki. Remember how you told me about Luke’s grandmother, you know, about her being a so-called psychic?”
Nicki sits on another couch, giving me a where-is-this-going look.
“Yeah,” Ari deadpans.
“Well, I got this crazy idea that maybe she might be able to like, um, look in to my future and tell me something about Ryan.”
“Ryan?” Ari asks, surprise in her eyes.
I swallow again. “Yeah, like if we were destined to be together.” I give a pained smile. “Pathetic, huh?”
Nicki bursts out laughing. “Oh my God! I knew you were going to go there sometime. It was freshman year when you asked me about that place.”
Ari’s face softens. “Freshman year?”
Nicki snorts. “Yeah, she wanted to go—what was it for—something about Jason? Oh, man, I cannot believe you actually went!” She sits up straight and folds her hands in her lap. “So how many kids are you and Ryan going to have? Boys or girls? Was she able to tell you about your future pets too?”
I roll my eyes. “Ha, ha. I didn’t even get a reading or anything—Mrs. Amador wasn’t feeling well. I did see Luke for a few minutes, though. Did he tell you, Ari?”
Ari sits up straight too. “No. But I was driving by … uh, on my way to get my nails done and saw you at his house.”
“Oh, well, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about pathetic me hoping to get my cards read.”
Deborah comes in carrying a silver tray with a pitcher of iced tea and glasses. I could kiss her for her perfect timing. She pours us each a glass and I gulp mine down hoping the cool liquid might do something to get rid of the burning sensation in my cheeks.
“Anything else, Miss?” Deborah asks.
Ari waves a hand dismissively. “No, we’re good.”
When Deborah leaves I chance looking at Ari again, and I’m relieved to see Happy Ari has returned. “So,” she says, “how many kids would you want with Ryan?”
“Um, I never really thought that far into the future,” I say.
Ari nods. “Yeah, can’t say I blame you.”
“Huh?” Nicki asks, looking back and forth between Ari and me.
“Samantha Lee Darling,” Ari and I say in unison and burst into giggles.
“Oh, don’t encourage her paranoia about Samantha, it’s beyond demeaning. She should trust Ryan or dump his ass!”
“Well, not all of us are as perfect as you,” Ari says. She jumps up before Nicki can respond and walks over to a large wooden hutch. She opens the doors and pulls out a bottle of vodka and gives it a shake. “Who wants to spice up their iced tea?”
I look at Nicki, who scowls and shakes her head ever so slightly. She doesn’t drink because she says alcohol is bad for her voice. Since Nicki doesn’t imbibe, I don’t either, especially after a very unfortunate experience at the reception for my aunt Kerry’s third wedding when I was fourteen. Everyone there was totally boozing it up because the groom, a truck driver with a huge beer belly and rundown double-wide, was an even bigger loser than husbands one and two.
I snuck way too many margaritas and ended up puking for hours in the hotel room. Luckily, I was sharing the room with my cousin Nora, who was just slightly less inebriated, and I blamed my upset stomach the next day on the pork rind appetizers at the reception.
Ari cocks her head at us. “Don’t tell me you two don’t drink.”
Nicki folds her arms across her chest. “You shouldn’t either—it’ll ruin your voice.”
“Seeing as you get all the solos, I don’t have to worry about that. How about you, Megan? You said you can’t sing for shit.”
“I guess I’ll try a little,” I say, avoiding looking at Nicki. Just because she can’t drink doesn’t really mean I have to go along, and it’s not like I’m looking to repeat margarita madness.
Ari walks over and refills my glass with vodka and iced tea. She holds hers up and I raise mine. “To a truly enchanted summer,” she says as we clink glasses.
Nicki ignores the toast and places her glass on the table. “Megan said you’ve got some shows we could watch.”
Ari takes a long drink and then smiles at Nicki. “I’m kind of in the mood for something dark. Do you like Sweeney Todd?”
I grimace. Nicki had nightmares for weeks after watching the movie version of Sweeney Todd, and seeing people get their throats slit and ground up into meat pies wasn’t something I was dying to see again either.
Nicki pales and shakes her head. “Anything a little more upbeat than cannibalistic barbers?”
Ari laughs and gets up. “Come over here and you can see what we’ve got.”
I watch them walk over to a shelf stuffed with DVDs and videotapes and take another sip of my drink, the too-strong vodka burning its way down my throat. Ari certainly hasn’t mastered the fine art of bartending.
“Meggy,” a voice whispers right next to my ear.
I jerk my head and choke on the iced tea. Remy is standing next to me wringing the hem of her dress in her hands. “Come quick!” She skips toward the door and I’m hoping she’ll just keep going and disappear, but she turns back and beckons to me. “Hurry, Meggy!”
I sigh. Please, God, no pyrotechnics tonight.
SEVEN
After excusing myself to the bathroom, I follow Remy down the hall and groan as she races up the stairs.
“Remy!” I hiss. “We can’t go up there!” She fades away and I bite my lower lip and consider turning around and heading back to Nicki and Ari.
She reappears at the top and leans over the banister. “Hurry, Meggy, it’s bad!”
My stomach lurches and I brace myself for another Remy meltdown. What could she possibly be so freaked out about? I look around for the maid or Miss Patty, and then hike my purse strap over my shoulder and tiptoe up the stairs. I wince every time the polished steps creak under my feet. “Remy, we really shouldn’t be doing this.”
I reach the landing and see Remy walk into a room about halfway down the hall. As I get closer I hear Miss Patty’s voice. “What the hell did you show her?”
My heart races and I want to turn around, but Remy’s calling me, her voice starting to take on that frantic tone she uses before everything goes to hell.
“I don’t give a crap what you promised her,” Patty continues. “I’m her mother and I want to see what you showed her so I can do some damage control before she goes and gets another bee in her bonnet an
d someone gets hurt.”
A deep, dark laugh answers Patty, sending chills up my spine. A man’s voice—too low to be Mr. Roy’s—says something, but I can’t make it out.
“Well, I’m the only mother she knows, thanks to you!”
“Meggy,” Remy’s voice implores from the room.
I take a step toward the doorway, peek inside, and catch my breath. Miss Patty is standing in front of a large gilded mirror, identical to the one in her office, but her reflection isn’t showing. Instead, a man’s long, narrow face, its edges blurred and smoky, floats in the center of the glass.
“Yes,” the face says, drawing out the word mockingly. “The only mother she’s ever known—and one she holds in utmost contempt. You know what she thinks of you, you ask me all the time, so why are you so concerned about her all of a sudden?”
Miss Patty puts her drink to her lips and drains it. The ice rattles in the empty glass as she holds it tightly at her side. “She’s got that look again.”
“It hasn’t bothered you in the past.”
“Well, it bothers me now!” Patty snaps. “We have everything we need, but it’s never enough for her—she wants more and more and he always gives it to her. It isn’t right.”
The face smirks. Two hands with incredibly long fingers and dark pointed nails appear in front of the face’s chin and clap slowly a couple of times. “Oh, he does love to spoil her, doesn’t he? How do you feel knowing her every whim will be satisfied, yet he denied you your heart’s greatest desire?”
“He would’ve done it if he hadn’t consulted Ari first! Like it was any of her damn business if we wanted more kids.”
“Or it could be that he didn’t want to have a child with you for other reasons. You’re hardly royalty. Where was it he found you again?” The fingers of one hand tap the chin once. “Oh, yes, in a stripper bar.”
“Shut up!” Patty shrieks and she throws her drink at the mirror’s surface.
I want to leave, but I’m rooted to the spot. I want the mirror to shatter and that face to stop talking, but the glass bounces off the mirror and breaks as it hits the floor. Ice cubes skitter across the stone tiles along with the broken shards of the cocktail glass. Miss Patty stands frozen, staring at her own reflection, which now fills the mirror. I see her eye makeup drawn down her cheeks by her tears.