Matinees with Miriam

by Vicki Essex

  Fordingham said loudly, “I believe what I believe. I made that decision in the interests of the taxpayer. The people of Everville—”

  “Thank you, Mr. Patel,” Cheyenne interjected, talking over Fordingham’s sputtering. She sounded neither pleased nor dismayed by Shane’s criticism of the former mayor. If he’d hoped to win her favor with that stunt, he’d failed. “Let’s move on to the next deputant.”

  Shane gathered his props and marched to the back of the auditorium as if he hadn’t just made an enemy out of Big Bob. The mood in the room suggested people were angrier with Fordingham than Shane at the moment, though.

  As he passed, he gave Mira an encouraging smile. Her lips tingled, remembering the taste and feel of him, and she looked away. The man was a damned distraction.

  The meeting recommenced. A few people did speak in favor of the condo—not surprising since the block in its current state had all the appeal of a haunted ghost town. But those who were against the condo were as vehement about their objections as ever. It didn’t seem to matter what Shane said—some people simply didn’t want the condo built.

  Even with this much opposition to the Sagmar building, Mira didn’t feel as if anyone was on her side. They were against the condo, not for the theater. They didn’t care about the history of the place or how hard her grandfather had worked to keep it open for Everville. They didn’t care about his sacrifice. They hadn’t mentioned him once.

  “Miriam Bateman.”

  She was startled when the clerk called her name. She remembered to breathe and slowly got to her feet. By the time she got to the microphone, she felt every set of eyes on her.

  Her hands shook as the moist, crinkled sheets of paper with her speaking notes blurred before her. The mic felt like the barrel of a gun aimed at her forehead. The last few speakers were much taller, so she tried to lower the stand. It tipped over and swung in a wide arc, catching Mrs. Abbot in the shoulder. Her notes scattered all over the ground as she rushed to apologize to the glowering woman.

  A snicker in the crowd reached her ears, crumbling what little nerve she’d built up, before someone hurriedly lowered the stand for her and gathered her papers off the ground. Tears burned her eyes.

  “Ms. Bateman, I know this is an important issue to you personally,” Cheyenne said gently. “I never met Jack Bateman, but I know your grandfather was well respected.”

  The sound of his name, spoken with respect and reverence, was like a balm, and it bolstered her spirits. She lifted her chin, meeting Cheyenne’s smile.

  “Please take your time with your arguments. I’ll urge the crowd not to interrupt you, as well.” Mira heard the warning behind her words to the audience, noted that she was being given special treatment. Because everyone knew she was a nervous wreck? Because she was the town shut-in? Because she was the poor kid old Jack Bateman had rescued from her druggie parents?

  She clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, searching for strength. She was here because of Grandpa. She was doing this for him. She owed him everything. He’d saved her. No matter what anyone thought of her, she had to do this. She had to save the Crown.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the zoning board,” she began hoarsely, then cleared her throat. “My fellow neighbors in Everville.” She blew out a breath and raised her speaking notes with a trembling hand.

  “My name’s Miriam Bateman. I’m the owner of the Crown Theater. Some of you may know me. But more of you knew my grandfather, Jack Bateman, who lived in Everville almost his whole life.” A lump formed in her throat. She released a breath through her nose and heard it whistle over the speakers. The audience waited.

  “When I first came to live with Grandpa Jack, he’d been running the Crown for more than thirty years. One of the first films he ever showed me was Casablanca. It was during the town arts festival, an event we’ve since stopped hosting. He screened a bunch of classics for free. He could’ve charged for tickets, but he wanted the theater open to everyone coming into town, to give them a place to rest and cool off while he shared his passion for films.”

  People nodded, seeming to remember that once-great period in Everville’s history.

  “I was too young to understand everything about the movie that made it great, but I knew I loved it. Sitting in the dark, seeing those faces lit up on the screen, waiting with breathless anticipation for what came next... I know many of you saw that film with me. And I remember all the thank-yous that my grandfather received afterward.

  “Many of you watched your first movies at the Crown, as I did. Some of you had your first dates there, met your wives and husbands there, brought your kids to their first movies there. Some of you may even be old enough to remember seeing your first stage production there back when the theatrical society would put on Peter Pan or Romeo and Juliet or A Streetcar Named Desire. The Everville Theater was a stepping stone on the career path for many great stage actors. You can still see their old autographed photos in the town archive. Grandpa donated them because he wanted people to remember the Crown’s history after he converted it into a movie theater. He knew it was important to keep arts and culture alive in Everville, especially during tough times.”

  She paused, took a deep breath. “My grandfather was sorry to close the Crown, but he always knew it would be revived one day. What’s old becomes new again eventually, he used to say. And I promised I’d help him achieve his dream.”

  She kept herself from searching for Shane’s face, gauging his reaction. She knew this would drive a wedge between them, but she had to do it for Grandpa.

  “All I’m asking for is a chance to show the people of Everville that the Crown can again be the jewel it once was.” She set her jaw to keep the tremors from affecting her voice. “Before the month is up, I’ll be reopening the theater for an open house. I want to remind everyone what the Crown meant to this town, and what you’ll miss if you let Sagmar tear it down.” Getting people into the theater was the only way to make them see it was worth keeping. It would be a huge undertaking, but now that she had Shane’s projector, she could actually show a movie.

  A few folks clapped. It wasn’t the rousing applause she’d hoped for—she hadn’t exactly given a battle cry–worthy speech to the troops—but it was enough to keep hope afloat. “Thank you for listening,” she ended a little lamely. She turned from the mic and sat down hard in an empty seat at the end of the row, willing her lungs to inflate, her heart to slow.

  She almost didn’t hear Cheyenne.

  “I’m certainly looking forward to seeing what you have planned, Ms. Bateman,” she said evenly. “I don’t imagine anyone would turn down an opportunity to see the Crown relive its glory days.”

  It was as direct an endorsement as Mira was likely to get. She managed a smile for Cheyenne and for the first time since the meeting began, felt a sense of relief. She hadn’t realized she’d needed someone’s approval so desperately.

  At the end of the meeting, the mayor declared that the zoning board would take a few weeks to deliberate. Clearly, she expected Mira to make good on her promise to show the town the benefits of keeping the Crown.

  Sweat broke out on her brow. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t reopen the theater in a month. Sure, she’d dreamed she could, but with her day job and no money to make the repairs she needed...

  “Excuse me, Miriam?”

  Startled, she looked up into the face of a smiling woman she vaguely recognized. “Maya Hanes,” she introduced herself. Her short, spiky hair was dyed royal blue. A pair of red cat-eye glasses hung from a beaded chain around her neck. She wore a vintage style black-and-white polka-dot dress with a high, pinched waist and a wide skirt. “I don’t know if you remember me. We went to school together. I own the consignment shop down on Main Street.”

  “I remember.” Maya had been one of the school’s top athletes.

  Maya sat
. “I’m a big fan of the Crown. I was sad when it closed. I used to watch weekend matinees there all the time.”

  “Oh.” Mira didn’t know what else to say. She’d never spoken to Maya before.

  “I was wondering if we could work together for your open house. I was thinking I could put together some displays for the lobby based on whatever films you’re showing. I’ve got some great props and clothing from a lot of different eras. We could even make it a costume party. It would drive some business to my store, but it’ll also make the reopening a big event and not just another night at the movies.”

  Mira bit her lip. “I was just going to show some royalty-free stock footage I have. I’m not sure I can afford the license to show one full movie, much less more.”

  Maya tilted her chin thoughtfully. “I have contacts in New York who might be able to help. If they can’t, I’ll bank your startup costs.”

  Mira’s head whipped up. “What?”

  “The Crown’s a historic building. It’s just like you said—I have a lot of memories attached to the place.” She grinned. “Not that I wouldn’t be getting something out of it. The exposure for my own business would be phenomenal.” She handed her a business card. “Here’s my number. Let’s meet for coffee to talk. I know tons of people who’d love to help with fund-raising.”

  Just like that? It couldn’t be that simple. A benefactor dropped into her lap was too good to be true—so naturally, it made her wary.

  She didn’t have any reason to be suspicious of Maya’s motives, though. What did she have to lose by accepting her help? She’d been up-front about what she’d get out of helping her. She was more transparent than Shane. She should be glad for Maya’s interest. If this was what it’d take to save the Crown, so be it.

  Her palms started sweating as she realized she had less than a month to prepare the Crown. She wasn’t the only one invested in its success now, and she was on a clock. But setting herself a deadline had lit a fire under her. It seemed it was all she’d needed to get her ass in gear.

  She hurried out of the auditorium, her mind racing.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A MONTH.

  A whole month.

  Shane dazedly walked out of the auditorium after his brief conversation with Mayor Welks. He’d hoped there’d be a conclusion to the rezoning issue tonight. He’d thought the board was on his side, especially after being given the chance to speak. He never thought they’d defer judgment for an entire month.

  Laura was not going to be happy.

  Before he left, Bob Fordingham threw him the stink eye. Shane doubted the ousted former mayor could do much to sway the zoning board, but he’d have to play nice from now on. It wouldn’t serve his purpose to poke that bear.

  Mira was nowhere to be seen, so he made his way to the theater. He wanted to talk to her. That deputation had taken courage and he wanted to make sure she was okay. He also wanted her to know he had no hard feelings about her renewed fight for the Crown.

  He supposed he should have been angry that she’d be using the equipment he’d bought her in order to fight him. She hadn’t even offered him money for it. But he wasn’t mad. Mostly, he was worried about the optics. If this got back to Laura and the rest of the team...

  He shook his head. He wouldn’t worry about that right now. He parked his car outside the Crown and dialed Mira’s number.

  “I just wanted to say you gave a great speech tonight,” he said when she picked up. He stared up at the old building. The twilight cast shadows that made the boarded windows and doors look like eyes squeezed tight, as if the theater were flinching from the night. “I know it must have been difficult for you.”

  She didn’t respond. He went on. “Have you picked a date for your open house?”

  “Not yet.” She let out a breath. “Listen, I’m going to give you some money for the projector—I need to borrow it for the open house. But I can’t get a lot together right away. I know you must be upset—”

  “I’m not. And I don’t want any of your money—” he said it before he could take it back, and it felt right “—think of this as part of the test run. I think an open house is a great idea. Do you know what movies you’re going to show?”

  “Depends on how much the licenses are. I have a list in mind, but I’m going to talk to some people first...” She trailed off. “Shane... I’m not sure we should see each other again.”

  His chest tightened. His first thought was to deny they had any such relationship, to make light of their kiss. But he couldn’t. He stared at the building as if he could meet her eye through the old brick. “Why?”

  “We’re on opposite sides of this thing. I need to stay focused, and I don’t have a clear head around you.”

  If she were anyone else, he might have enjoyed the burnish to his ego. But all he felt was a sick sense of loss. “It doesn’t have to be that way. Have I done anything to make you believe I didn’t want what was best for you?”

  “That’s the thing. You don’t know what’s best for me. The Crown means everything to me, and you don’t seem to get that.”

  Shane pinched the flesh between his eyebrows, frustration warring with sadness. “Can we talk about this face-to-face?”

  A pause. “I can’t right now. I have a lot going through my head, and if I see you...” She left the rest unsaid. He knew what she was saying, though, because he felt it as keenly as the ache in the back of his throat.

  If I see you, all I’ll want to do is kiss you and never let you go.

  The thought made his breath catch. At some point, he’d gone from intrigued by her to liking her to something much more potent. It wasn’t lust. Not exactly. It was something deeper, though he was confounded by the intensity of the feeling. He shouldn’t want to be with Mira. She didn’t fit into his life. Besides, his time in Everville was temporary. Anything they might have together would be like his summer stays in town: brief, fun-filled and nonpermanent. Something to look fondly back on. He had a job and a life in Brooklyn.

  So why was he thinking forever thoughts with Mira?

  He scanned the theater’s roof where Mira’s Eden lay, wondering if she were hiding up there now, looking down on him like Juliet from her balcony. The warmth of his phone pressed against his cheek, and he closed his eyes. “Mira... I don’t want us to fight. I want to be on your side.”

  “Then move the condo elsewhere,” she implored. “Let me keep my home.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. He could try. He could go back and tell the board at Sagmar a lie...something to make them turn away from the property in horror. But even if he managed to convince the company to relocate the condo, it didn’t mean he would win Mira’s hand. In the meantime, Everville would continue to decline, Sagmar would lose its investors and Shane would lose his job.

  And yet, the compulsion to do just that tugged on his conscience.

  “I should go.” The words snagged in his throat. “That is...if you want me to.”

  In the ensuing silence, he thought she’d hung up. But then the front door banged open. Mira stood there, her cell phone clutched in one hand. She looked like a small creature in the maw of the Crown’s doorway about to be swallowed up. And she was inviting him to join her.

  Shane walked toward her slowly, slipping his phone into his pocket. As he got closer, he saw the way her chest heaved, the tremble of her fingers, the uncertainty in her eyes. Shane walked right up to her and slipped his arms around her. She shuddered and looked down. He rubbed her back. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” She gently pushed him away and took a deep, shaky breath. “I... I just...” She sucked in her lip.

  She didn’t need to say it. The conflict was clear in her face. She wanted him, but couldn’t allow herself to want him.

  “C’mon.” He guided her to her office. />
  The futon couch had been converted into a double bed. He sat her on the edge of the squishy mattress. An electric kettle rested on a table by the hot plate and a basin of dirty dishes. Her “kitchen,” he realized.

  And then his gaze hopped to the little fridge, the open armoire he’d thought was simply a storage cabinet but was filled with clothes...

  Let me keep my home...

  It was only then that he realized Mira lived in the Crown. This wasn’t just a castle she guarded, a building she haunted. The reason he hadn’t been able to find a home address for her was because this was her home. She worked, ate and slept here.

  A mixture of pity, horror and awe filtered through him as he put the kettle on for a cup of tea. How had he not put two and two together before? He’d only ever found her at the theater, and late at night, to boot. He tried to remember if she’d ever said she lived there; maybe she had and he hadn’t processed it. Maybe he thought she meant it metaphorically. He wasn’t sure why it’d only struck him now. And he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. On the one hand, it was entirely impractical—how did she shower?—but on the other hand, she lived in a movie theater. It was like a childhood dream come true. How often had he wished he’d lived someplace cool? This place wasn’t just a monument to her grandfather; it was her playground, her dream palace. Of course she was fighting to keep it.

  Which made her conflicted feelings all the more potent. Shane wasn’t just flattered; he was honored.

  Mira sat quietly on the bed, staring at a spot on the floor. “You want to talk about what’s bugging you?” he probed gently. His newfound insight into Mira’s world propelled him toward a new goal. He wanted them both to admit their feelings for each other. They could get through the condo debacle as long as they remained on even footing where their feelings were concerned. She already knew too much about how he felt about her—not a strong position to be in sitting down at the bargaining table.