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.
But then the chorus comes back, and he sings it the same way again, and I feel horrible because I cannot contain myself. I burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Abbott glares at me, not looking my way again for the rest of the song. No one else says a word about his screw up or even cracks a smile. How is that possible?
When he’s through, everyone claps and he climbs down the steps to find me on the dance floor. “What the hell, Viv? You almost made me mess up,” he says, annoyed.
I snort. “I almost made you mess up?” I ask sarcastically. “ ‘Let’s go into the water and drown?’ ” I tease, making air quotes with my fingers.
“Is it a bad song or something?” he asks, clearly confused.
I chew on my lip, trying not to laugh at him. “Umm...No. “Water Runs Dry” is a great song. This is the first time I have ever heard “Water and Drown”.”
He still doesn’t have a clue what I’m getting at, so I pull the lyrics up on my phone. “Did you even look at the word monitor once while singing?”
“No, I didn’t need to,” he answers, puffing up his chest with pride.
Oh, Abbott...
“Well, you should have,” I snicker and pass him my phone.
I stand there fidgeting while he reads over the lyrics, and his eyes get big when he realizes his mistake.
“Shit. I’ve been singing it wrong all this time.” Abbott laughs, shaking his head. “But, my lyrics make sense, too,” he adds, coming to his own defense.
“Well, yeah. I mean, I guess if you go into the water and drown, you will probably watch your life pass by.”
“Right? It works,” he says, chuckling. Abbott wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his vibrating chest. “You ready to get outta here?” he asks, kissing the top of my head affectionately.
He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I nod and feel the butterflies return in my tummy as he takes my hand in his, leading us toward the exit. On our way out, I wave at Cassie, who is still whoring it up at the bar, to let her know that we’re heading home.
When we step out into the parking lot and no longer have to shout to be heard, I turn to Abbott. “Oh, and in case you were wondering about the effects of your performance...it was panty wetting.”
He stops walking and looks at me with a boyish grin. “Was it?” He darts his tongue out, licking his bottom lip.
“Oh yeah,” I say as a smile spreads across my face. “I’m pretty sure I peed myself!”
“Viv!” Cassie calls, pulling on my arm. “Where are you, babe? We’re done. What are you staring at?”
I shake my head and realize that I’m still staring into Reid’s eyes. I force myself to smile at the kids and then follow Cassie down to our seats, feeling dazed and empty. Tears burn the backs of my eyes and the hole in my heart is ripped wide open. I miss him.
“Where were you just now?” Cassie whispers as Reid introduces the next performers.
Bouncing my leg nervously, I shake my head and swallow a sob.
Cassie places a hand on my back and kisses the hair at my temple. “You did great,” she whispers.
I nod my thanks and reach into my bag, pulling out a pair of sunglasses to hide my tears. I dig around for my pills and tap one into my palm, swallowing it down with one of the bottles of water that we found waiting at our seats after our performance. I just took one before we left to come out here. I’ve been doing this too often, and I know that I need to stop. But when I feel this bad, all I can think about is numbing the pain as quickly as possible. What’s the worst that could happen? I’m already dead inside.
The first pair of kids finish their song, and I’d be lying if I said I even knew what they sang. All of my concentration is focused on not falling apart. It’s exhausting. Sometimes the memories make me feel better, make me smile, and others...all they do is make me realize just how much I am not better, and that better may never come. That I may spend the rest of my life treading water—trying desperately not to drown, and praying that I don’t take anyone else down with me when I do. Because I undoubtedly will. I can’t go on this way forever.
Two more groups have gone, and I play my part. I face the stage, and I clap when everyone else does. But I’m not here, not really. I’m not living in this moment. I’m a body taking up space—a prop. By the time th
e last performers take the stage, I am blessedly numb and half asleep.
“Hey,” Cassie says, shaking my shoulder. “Let’s go inside, babe. You fell asleep.”
“Huh?” I ask. “Where are the kids?”
“They just left to go back home. They said to tell you that they had a wonderful time.”
Shit. I’m ruining Abbott’s camp. I’m sad, I’m tired, and I’m completely overwhelmed. I can’t seem to do anything right anymore. It’s bad enough that I paid absolutely no attention to the performances, but to fall asleep on them. How do I explain my way out of that one?
As if she’s reading my thoughts, Cassie says, “Don’t worry about it. I told them you weren’t feeling well and took some cold medicine that must have kicked in and knocked you out. I gotcha covered, babe...so wipe that frightened look off your face.”
“Thanks,” I whisper, staring blankly at the stage.
“You wanna tell me where you were tonight? You sounded great, you always do, but you were not with me on that stage, Viv.”
Knots form in my stomach. “Joey’s Bar...I was at Joey’s Bar,” I mumble.
“Our first time?” she asks, grinning.
“Mmmhmm.”
“That was such a great night. Not only because we totally rocked that performance, but I got to see Abbott naked. That shit should be celebrated!”
At that, I laugh. “You’re not right, you know that?”
“Hey, you two freaks were the ones going at it like bunnies on our couch!”
My face warms. We did do that...“Well, we assumed you would be with that bartender all night or at least ’til early morning...”
“Hey. I’m not complaining. I’m totally into a little voyeurism,” she teases.
“Voyeurism, eh?” Reid asks, coming up behind us. “Sounds like fun...who are we voyeuring?”
Vivienne's Guilt Page 15