Matinees with Miriam

Home > Other > Matinees with Miriam > Page 21
Matinees with Miriam Page 21

by Vicki Essex


  They were back on the road within the hour and got to the theater in Welksville with more than half an hour to spare. Mira stared up at the colossal building plunked down in the center of an enormous parking lot. Posters advertising coming attractions that spanned two stories hung from the lip of the roof. Shane parked, and she stared up at the marquee. There were fifteen big-screen digital auditoriums, nine of which were showing films in 3-D. There was even an IMAX auditorium.

  “There.” He pointed at a title for a critically acclaimed movie that had been released earlier in the year. “Let’s go.”

  As they walked in, Mira was assaulted by noise and lights and the vastness of the space. Giant prop spaceships hovered above the enormous concession stand in the center of the main lobby. A café, bar and arcade resided in the wide-open space. Escalators led to a second unseen level where Mira imagined most of the auditorium entrances were.

  The place was mostly empty just then—a lot of the more recent popular films had started an hour ago—but the cacophony of constantly playing previews on screens placed everywhere, the flashing digital movie poster displays, the arcade’s chaos and the music blaring from the bar made the whole place frenetic with activity.

  Shane got the tickets and ordered a ridiculously large bucket of popcorn, along with two gallon-size drinks and a bag of candy as big as her face. Her eyes grew huge at the cashier’s total.

  “Thirty bucks for popcorn and candy?” Grandpa had never charged more than five.

  “They’re refillable,” Shane said with a smirk.

  She shook her head as they headed for their auditorium.

  It was supposedly one of the smaller theaters in the building, but it was more than double the size of the Crown’s auditorium. She fell back in the plush, roomy seat. There was enough space for her to stretch out her legs, even. No bruised knees to be had here. Then Shane pulled up the armrest dividing their two seats and pressed closer to her. “Love seats,” he said, and she laughed.

  “I didn’t realize this was something people wanted in their moviegoing experience.”

  “You didn’t expect me to keep my hands off you while we sat in the dark, did you?”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but I go to the theater to enjoy the movies,” she teased.

  She devoured nearly half the bucket of popcorn while watching the preshow slides and commercials playing on the screen. They had nearly the same picture quality as the high-end projector Shane had brought her, though the surround sound of the theater was much better. And this wasn’t even the real show. When the curtains around the screen drew back to accommodate the wide-screen picture, Mira slowly felt her heart sinking.

  No hissing or popping or lines or unfocused pictures. No banging a projector to make the color balance straighten out. The picture was crisp and clear, the sound immaculate. The latest in digital projection, she reminded herself. She spent the whole hour and forty minutes spiraling down into depression.

  The Crown could never compete with this. Not even if she got twice the crowdfunding goal.

  It was time to face the facts: her grandfather’s legacy would never survive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  THE MOVIE HADN’T held Shane’s attention as he thought it would, but that was mostly because of the woman next to him. He’d held her hand throughout, but nothing more—she hadn’t made any move to be intimate with him in the nearly empty theater. He might have initiated, but they weren’t horny teenagers. He had manners and control.

  Besides, she seemed to be enjoying the film. Or at least she’d watched it more closely than he had.

  They didn’t say much as they left the theater. He’d started the night on the pensive side—he was still mulling over Laura’s demand that he get town council to expropriate the Crown. It meant they were skipping on offering Mira an even better deal for the property. He wasn’t sure that was the best idea—using eminent domain to seize the Crown could end up costing Sagmar even more than a buyout would, especially if anyone on the town council learned about the high-speed rail line. But he didn’t want to contradict Laura again. Going over her head in the first place to get the project approved had been bad office politics. And spending all this time in town and involving himself with Mira was putting his job in jeopardy, regardless of the fact that he was technically on vacation.

  He was on rocky ground with Laura and Sagmar. But he was finally on smoother roads with Mira. He glanced at her as they drove back to town. She was staring out the window into the dark. The roads between Welksville and Everville were well lit, though not much thrived here now. That would change soon. The high-speed rail line would bring a lot of new developments to this part of the county. It could save the small towns in the area from extinction.

  “How’d you like the movie?” he asked.

  “It wasn’t bad, though a bit derivative. It takes after an Italian film done about fifteen years ago.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “This wasn’t as bad as some remakes. I can find the original for you, if you like.”

  “Thanks.” He wasn’t sure he’d watch it, but sometimes the originals were better.

  He pulled up outside the Crown. The marquee was lit and the lights in the lobby had been left on, giving the theater a warm, cheerful glow. Lighting made such a huge difference when it came to big buildings like this, but it didn’t hide the fact that it was the lone holdout on a deserted block. The empty department stores flanking the theater remained as forlorn as ever. They’d be torn down soon for the first stage of construction.

  “Would you like to come in for coffee?” she asked. “I know your parents might be waiting up for you. I don’t want to presume...”

  He grinned. “I’m a big boy, but you’re sweet for thinking of them. Let me give my folks a call to let them know I’ll be out past curfew.” It wouldn’t keep Amma from sticking her nose in his business, or Baba from interrogating him about his whereabouts, but he didn’t want them to worry.

  Mira went in ahead of him while he made the call. His mother picked up. “We were starting to worry. Your father and I are back at the house. Where are you?”

  “Out with a friend.”

  “A lady friend?”

  “Yes, in fact,” he said, beaming. “Her name’s Mira. Miriam. She’s the owner of the theater I’m trying to buy.”

  Silence. “Shekhar...you’re not trying to bamboozle this girl, are you?”

  Bamboozle? “No. How can you say that?” He felt as if she’d slipped a cold damp cloth over him while he burned with a fever, and he shuddered. He was affronted and uncomfortable and a little sick all at once. He cleared his throat. “In fact, she wants to meet you. I told her about how you used to work in Bollywood. She’s a film critic for a bunch of websites. I thought we could do lunch together. I’ll make spaghetti.”

  Another hesitation. It was uncharacteristic of his mother to be so reticent. After all, he was telling her he wanted to bring a woman to meet her. She should have been jumping for joy.

  “You cooking something more than peanut butter sandwiches? This girl must be pretty special,” his mother teased. And yet, a note of doubt hung in her tone.

  “She is,” he said without thinking. He really did want his parents to meet Mira.

  “All right. I’ll tell your father. We were going to leave early but delaying our trip home by a couple of hours won’t make much difference.”

  Shane hung up and hurried into the theater, grinning. He found Mira making coffee in her office/bedroom. The futon had been pulled out into its bed form, and he arched an eyebrow saucily.

  She looked up, cheeks pinkening. “All’s well?”

  “I told them where I am like a good son would. And they said they’d love to meet you for lunch tomorrow.”

  She nodded and glanced back at the brewing po
t. Shane slid in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She was trembling.

  You’re not trying to bamboozle this girl, are you? His mother’s words echoed. The way Mira made him feel, the way he felt for her... It wasn’t an act. It wasn’t him manipulating her. He wanted what was best for her and for everyone. That was all.

  He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deep, kissing the tip of her ear. She shivered, turned her head slightly and leaned into him. “You okay?” he asked.

  She chuckled nervously. “I’ve never had a man here before. It’s not the nicest place to stay overnight. I mean, if you do stay.” She bit her lip. “My futon is lumpy and old and probably smells funny. The shower’s in the janitor’s closet—I attached a showerhead to the old spigot that’s used for the mop bucket. And this place is really drafty—”

  “I can manage.”

  “It’s also... It was the space my grandfather inhabited, you know? He lived and died here. I’ve always felt as though he’s watched over me here. It just feels kind of weird, you being here with me.”

  “We don’t have to do anything. If you’d rather just watch a movie or go to bed...”

  “I only want to go to bed if you’re in it,” she said, turning in his arms and snagging the front of his shirt. A mix of doubt and wickedness flickered across her face. “I mean, if you can stand being here.”

  Shane grinned slowly. All doubts vanished as their mouths came together.

  They made noisy love on the creaky futon, driving the hollow groaning of the old, empty theater and all of Shane’s misgivings away with their pleasure.

  But later, as they lay in that cramped double futon, his worries returned. He had to make a choice eventually, and to him, there was only one way he and Mira could have everything. She had to give up the Crown. It wasn’t safe or healthy for her to keep living here. She would earn a hefty sum on the sale of the theater and could have a nice, quiet life elsewhere, maybe even with him. And he had so much he wanted to show her and share with her...

  They were good together. He’d convince her of that, no matter what it took.

  * * *

  SHANE’S PARENTS, NISHA and Ranjeet, were delightful. Mira had never used that word for anyone, but it was the only one she could think of to describe them as they sat with her in Shane’s living room, drinking tea and eating biscuits while Shane made lunch.

  Mira usually did interviews for her articles over the phone or via email, so talking to Nisha in person was a completely different experience. The woman was animated and lively and had all kinds of stories to tell about her formative years working as a manager on the set of several big Indian film productions. She showed her photos from parties she’d been to that she’d saved on her phone, pictures of her with some of India’s biggest movie stars and directors. She still went back now and again to visit family and reconnect with old friends and folks in the industry.

  It was her stories about meeting Ranjeet and giving it all up to come to America that fascinated Mira the most.

  “He was a businessman’s son, and a big technology nerd,” she said. “While I was one of the first and only women working in my industry in my position. Back then, it was practically impossible for someone like me to get that kind of job so young. I’d spent years clawing my way to that position. Then Ran proposed and I left it all behind to become his wife and a mother.”

  “Don’t sound so disappointed,” Ranjeet said, slurping his tea. “I brought you to New York after all.”

  “Where we lived in a tiny little apartment that had rats and roaches—”

  “While I built an empire—”

  “While you built a small business that took decades to establish itself.” She pinned him with a look. “Just think of the wasted four years in film school and another six fighting my way to the top, only to end up running a cash register...” There wasn’t any real bitterness in Nisha’s voice. Just a good-natured ribbing tone.

  “Admit it, you loved every minute of it,” Ran teased.

  “I suppose I can’t argue with steady hours and a comfy stool to let my butt get big on.” She beamed at her husband. “Especially when Shane came along. That boy never stopped moving.”

  Mira’s mind was boggled by the woman’s choice. She couldn’t imagine giving up her career, especially if she’d worked so hard to establish herself. She waited until Ranjeet had gotten up to go to the bathroom to ask, “Why’d you leave your job? It sounded like a dream.”

  “I got a new dream,” she replied simply. “Ran was the love of my life. I knew being with him meant things would be very different. And I knew it would be hard to adjust to life in the States. Yes, I gave up everything that had been important to me at the time, and Ran knew it. But it was worth it. Change isn’t ever easy. I couldn’t imagine being without him, though.”

  That stuck with Mira for the rest of the afternoon, even after she and Shane said goodbye to his parents. They were heading back to Brooklyn, but before they went, Nisha told her, “It was very nice to meet you, Miriam. I hope you’ll come and visit me.”

  She agreed. Normally, she was uncomfortable around people she’d just met, but Shane’s mother was friendly without being overbearing, and she didn’t seem to want anything from Mira. She didn’t study her as if she was some freak at a sideshow, either.

  “They really like you,” Shane said as she helped him with the dishes. “That went really well.”

  “I thought it did, too.” She regarded him thoughtfully. “Have you brought other women to meet them before?”

  “No one who stuck.”

  Mira didn’t ask, though she wondered what these other women had been like, how Shane’s parents might have received them.

  They finished cleaning. Mira was tired. Last night’s exertions had made her a bit sore, but it’d been sharing her cramped bed with Shane that had kept her from getting a full night’s sleep. She’d had the same problem the first night they’d slept together: despite his king-size bed, she wasn’t used to sharing, to feeling the other person’s slightest twitches. She was accustomed to being alone.

  “I should probably get home,” she said. “I’ve got a ton of work to do and I haven’t watered my tomatoes in a couple of days. Poor things might’ve shriveled by now.”

  “I can help.” His lips had peeled back in a rictus of a grin. She had to give him points for volunteering despite his phobia. Maybe it was an empty offer, but she knew from the look in his eyes that if she accepted, he’d do it.

  “It’s all right. It won’t take long, and I’m sure you have other things you need to do.”

  He looked relieved. Something else lingered in his eyes, though. She wasn’t quite sure what it was—maybe her paranoia about overly helpful Shane was making her see things that weren’t there. She needed to accept that he liked her, that his parents liked her, that maybe, just maybe, she was worthy of his love.

  Not that she expected it from him. If it were love, it wasn’t the kind of romantic love she saw in the movies. Not head-over-heels, happy-ever-after love. The English language wasn’t adequate in describing the complexity or nuances of her feelings for Shane, or his feelings for her, she imagined.

  When he dropped her off, he lingered under the marquee. “Is something wrong?”

  He tapped his fists together rhythmically. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, but I don’t want you to think anything between us had anything to do with it.”

  A leaden weight suddenly dropped into the center of her chest. “What is it?”

  He took a deep breath. “Sagmar wants to get town council to declare eminent domain on the Crown.”

  She sifted through his words for meaning. “I don’t understand.”

  “It means they want to convince council to expropriate your property. They’ll pay you market value for it�
��”

  Mira stumbled back a step, as if she’d been punched. “No. No, they can’t do that...”

  “You said it yourself—you don’t want to reopen the theater.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m willing to sell!” Her lungs shrank to half their size as she tried to suck in air. “When were you going to tell me this?”

  “I only got the call yesterday—”

  “And you thought it was okay to not tell me and sleep with me?” She forked her fingers through her hair. “How could you? Was this your plan all along? Soften me up? Make me think you actually care about me?”

  “Calm down. I told you, this has nothing to do with what’s between us.” He said it so quietly, it hurt. She glared at him, eyes hot.

  “Maybe you’ve convinced yourself of that, but you’re only lying to yourself. God, why did I even—” She cut herself off ruthlessly. She’d been the stupid one. She should never have trusted him. “Who’s coming to town to talk to council? Or have you already done that behind my back?”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Fair? You think this has anything to do with what’s fair? All this time, I bet this was in your back pocket. Of course it was—you wanted my property from the get-go. Eminent domain had to be your last resort. It’s going to cost your precious company, but not as much as it would if...” She thought hard. She wasn’t stupid—she’d watched enough movies to know there was always some other motivating factor to drive a man to desperate measures. But she was missing a puzzle piece—some nugget of information Shane had withheld, something that meant eminent domain would cost Sagmar less than trying to convince her to sell with a last-ditch effort.

  That there were secrets like this between them bothered her, but not as much as his betrayal did.

  “I swear, Mira, I didn’t think Sagmar would go this route. If they’d planned to do this all along, Cheyenne and the town council wouldn’t have wasted their time with a zoning hearing. I turned my world upside down trying to convince you to sell while keeping everything transparent and aboveboard. I’m sorry if I fell for you, or made you feel something for me, but those feelings had nothing to do with Sagmar or this project. I’m only doing my job.”

 

‹ Prev