Matinees with Miriam

by Vicki Essex

  “Shane? It’s Arty Bolton.”

  His heart leaped into his throat, and he sat up. “What is it? Is Mira all right?”

  “She’s fine. I mean, as fine as she can be. I haven’t talked to her much... She’s a bit cross with us right now.”

  Shane caught the smug look on his sister’s face and got up to get away from the noise of the TV and her inquisitive ears. “Listen, Arty, I hope we’re still good.”

  “I’ve made my peace with it. It’s Mira I’m concerned about right now. She’s got it in her head to travel around Europe with Maya.”

  “Oh.” He sat back, a mixture of jealousy and regret filling him slowly. “Well. That’s...that’s great.”

  “Great?” Arty harrumphed. “Didn’t you hear me? She’s leaving Everville. Her home.”

  “Maybe that’s what she needs to do,” Shane said, even though every cell in his body screamed that he should be the one with her, guiding her, protecting her. “Anyhow, she won’t be alone. She’ll be with Maya.” Someone who cared. Someone who didn’t have an agenda. His throat tightened.

  Arty grumbled a curse. “I thought you’d care enough to do something about it.”

  “Mira’s her own woman. I’ve never been able to convince her of anything.” He bit his lip. “Sometimes you gotta let go of the things you...love.” His throat tightened.

  Arty snorted. “That’s a stupid thing we tell ourselves when we’re too afraid to confront our feelings. A bunch of meaningless words someone cobbled together ’cause they were a coward.”

  “What are you saying, Arty?”

  “Don’t be reading me wrong. I like you, despite everything that’s happened. You have a good heart...when you listen to it, that is. I just thought maybe you’d be more of a man when it came to Mira. This trip would be good for her, but I don’t cotton to women traveling alone. What if someone takes advantage of her?”

  The way I did? Shane swallowed thickly. Mira was too cautious and wary of people to ever be conned. She wasn’t naive. Still, Mira could meet someone on her travels, someone who’d see what a gem she was and sweep her off her feet...

  The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

  “We don’t get to decide what’s best for her.” He said it reluctantly, but knew it was the truth. “Whatever she wants to do, we should show our support.” Even if it was from afar. He could pretend that he didn’t care, but he always would. His greatest regret would be that he was not the one to share those new experiences and triumphs with her. To see Paris with her. “Besides, I’m not sure there’s much I could do. Our relationship will always be tainted by what I did.”

  “Dunno about that. Memory’s a funny thing.” He paused. “Mira’s a lot like her grandpa Jack. But she’s different, too. She only ever wanted to please him. To have someone love her unconditionally.”

  I love her unconditionally. The thought tore a strip from Shane’s heart.

  Arty went on. “I remember his falling-out with Rick, Mira’s father. Back when Jack had the farm, he was a real ballbuster. Rick could never please his old man. It drove him toward a life of crime and debauchery. Damn near broke Jack’s heart. That’s why he let Mira hide herself away when things got tough. He didn’t want to make her do anything that might stress her out. Didn’t want her to walk away from him the way her father had. ’Cause of that, he didn’t give her the push out of the nest she needed, especially after she came running home from college.”

  Shane hesitated. “Why are you telling me this, Arty?”

  “Because I want you to understand Mira better. See, she only ever remembers Jack as being this godlike figure who saved her from her terrible home life, a man whose love she felt she had to earn. She doesn’t remember a lot of the other things about him, like how he let her skip school if she wanted to, or how he let her have the run of the theater during business hours. She doesn’t remember him telling her it was best for her not to see her father in jail. She just went along with what he wanted because she thought the world of him.” Arty sighed. “Jack always had good reasons for what he did. But he could be a son of a bitch sometimes.”

  Shane had never even considered that Mira might have missing pieces in her life, like an incarcerated father who wanted to see her. “I don’t understand how I’m supposed to help.”

  “Truthfully, you can’t. It’s like you say—Mira’s her own woman. She’s got to find her own way, and whether or not you like it, you were the one to put her on that path. You’ll need to accept that at some point. But—” Arty cleared his throat “—if you were still feeling guilty, I might have an idea about how you could make amends.”

  Shane would do almost anything to stop the gnawing in the pit of his stomach. More than that, though, he wanted Mira to look him in the eye again. Even if she didn’t feel the same way, all he wanted was for her to be happy. “I’m listening.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Three months later

  MIRA STARED OUT at the snow-covered landscape, flat and white and quiet. It was a palate cleanse for the senses. Three months of touring Europe with Maya had inundated her with a never-ending smorgasbord of sights, sounds and smells. Now, driving back to Everville for the holidays, a strange mixture of dread and longing permeated her. Why was she even going back? She could have stayed in Europe indefinitely, though she hadn’t wanted Maya to miss Christmas with her family and friends.

  “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home,” her friend said with a sigh. “I thought I’d hate the idea of another winter in New York State, but coming home to this?” She gestured at the pine boughs dusted in white, the houses along the roadside festooned with lights and giant inflatable snowmen on the lawns, and she sighed. “Christmas isn’t the same without all this.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay with me staying with you?” Mira asked.

  “Hey, if I didn’t like spending time with you, you would’ve known by now. Of course you’ll stay with me. Where else would you go?”

  Where indeed? Since she’d left town, Arty and Janice had moved in together, and she didn’t want to be a third wheel in their relationship. She’d eventually forgiven them—she’d called to apologize for her abominable behavior, and they’d made amends. They still worried about her, but she’d assured them she was doing fine. Time and distance and long talks with Maya had given her a chance to get some perspective on her new life.

  It’d taken a couple of weeks to deal with her anger and sadness over losing the Crown. It’d been like grieving her grandfather’s death all over again. Maya had helped distract her by dragging her from one end of Europe to the other. There were too many things to see and experience, and Maya wouldn’t let her stay still long enough to wallow.

  At some point after the first three weeks, she’d realized she didn’t miss living in the Crown. She’d slept in some of the world’s most luxurious hotels, taken long, hot, languorous showers, eaten exquisite meals and sampled the best of everything life had to offer. She’d met fascinating people, explored world-famous attractions—Grandpa would’ve been blown away by the gardens in Versailles—and not once did she worry about broken locks, trespassers or what she had to fix next.

  It was while visiting Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris that she’d found peace. Walking into the magnificent church with its polished floors and vaulted ceilings had made her turn her thoughts inward. She wasn’t particularly religious, but in that space, the setting for one of her favorite stories, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, she’d felt closer to Grandpa than ever. She’d sat in a pew and stared up at the stained-glass windows. She could almost feel the warmth of her grandfather’s smile, refracted through the rainbow of colors raining down on her, like a benediction that allowed her to let go of fear and anger and the burden of the Crown.

  The money she’d gotten from the expropriation had made it all possibl
e. And as much as she’d resented it at first, she now understood that what she’d been holding on to was not her grandfather’s legacy, but her own. She’d mired herself in her past, in the idea that she was useless and unworthy and ultimately better off alone, cloistered, protected from the world, just like Quasimodo in the bell tower. She’d been her own jailor, convinced that dreams and living vicariously through the silver screen were enough.

  In a roundabout way, Shane had freed her. He’d forced her to face the fact that trying to take care of the Crown on her own was a nearly impossible task—she never would’ve been able to fix the roof on her own, or reopen the Crown had he not been there. In her quest to protect the theater from him, she’d made friends, opened up to the rest of the world and seen what life had to offer.

  The car crested the hill overlooking the town. Mira studied Everville from that vista and her heart sighed. Everything looked smaller. Different, somehow, too. The water main projects had been completed on most of the main roads, and the traffic cones and detour signs had been cleared away to show perfectly straight, blacktop roads clear of debris and mud.

  They pulled into town and slowly crawled along Main Street to admire the Christmas decorations. The business improvement association had stepped up their game—every storefront had a Christmas display in its window. The streets were bustling with shoppers, too.

  “Is that a new store?” Mira pointed to an unfamiliar-looking sign in a building she’d previously given little thought to—it’d been closed for the longest time, and now it was some kind of Christmas shop. “Look how busy it is.”

  They kept driving. It wasn’t until farther up that she realized she didn’t recognize where they were. “Hang on—where’s the Crown...?”

  Maya parked by the curb. Mira popped her seat belt and got out, heart in her throat. She stared around at the unfamiliar landscape, the bruise-purple sky too big above her. She felt shadows where there were none, thought she saw ghostly silhouettes hanging above her. But all that was left of the block where the Crown Theater once stood was a pile of rubble ringed by temporary fencing.

  “Oh, my God.” She looked around for the landmarks, any sign of the old department stores, the chain-link fence, the empty lots and floating garbage that’d once danced there.

  It was all gone. And in its place, a huge sign: Coming Soon! Crown Condos By Sagmar, Starting in the mid $200,000s!

  Maya got out of the car. “Oh... Mira.”

  Her face felt numb. “They didn’t waste any time.” She supposed she should’ve been glad she hadn’t been in town to witness the wrecking crew tear down the place she’d called home. But she hadn’t thought she’d feel so empty coming back to that gaping hole in the sky.

  Through one of the viewing windows, piles of red brick, twisted rebar and broken concrete lay like tombstones dusted with snow. She couldn’t tell if it was all from the Crown, or if it was mixed in with the other buildings’ detritus. Did it matter? In the end, this was all the theater amounted to. Rubble and dust and some fond memories.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m okay,” Mira said, throat tight. “I just thought that...somehow, even once it came down... This is going to sound crazy.”

  “What?”

  “I thought I’d see my grandfather come out of all this.” As if he’d be standing there, a phoenix from the ashes. “I think part of me believed Grandpa still lived there. That I was protecting him, keeping him alive.”

  Maya wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “He lives on in you.”

  Mira lingered a moment longer. There was nothing left now of her grandfather’s legacy. Nothing for her to fight for or save. It was over.

  But life would go on. The condo would be built. The town would change.

  She probably wouldn’t be here to witness any of that, though she hadn’t entirely decided on what she was going to do next.

  Back at Maya’s house, they opened the windows to the frigid cold December temps to get the stale air out and ordered Chinese from the Good Fortune Diner. Mira called Arty and Janice to let them know she and Maya had arrived home safe. Arty sounded relieved.

  “You’ll join us for Christmas dinner, won’t you?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  “We missed you, Mira. We’re glad you’re home.”

  She didn’t reply. She wasn’t sure what the word home meant anymore. The only place she’d ever called home was gone.

  Jet lag kept Mira from sleeping; she went online and caught up on her emails and internet news. Maya had zonked right out. She was a light sleeper and Mira didn’t want to bother her friend.

  When the phone rang, she picked up quickly, wondering who would call so late.

  “Mira? It’s Shane.”

  The air in her lungs stopped. “Shane Patel,” he clarified unnecessarily when she didn’t respond. “I heard you were back.”

  “I just got in today.” She was confused by her emotions—elation with a heavy dose of longing and wariness. The last time they’d faced each other was after the town council meeting. They hadn’t even said goodbye—she’d done everything in her power to avoid seeing him. The truth was, she’d been afraid of what she might say or do. She hadn’t wanted to subject Shane to her wrath. She’d realized during her trip that part of her had still cared enough about him to preserve him from her backlash.

  “I know. I asked Arty to call me as soon as you returned. Did you have fun?”

  “It was...amazing.” She didn’t have the vocabulary to talk about the trip in detail. Shane had stolen it all from her with one phone call. Her heart pattered softly.

  A pause. “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  Her stomach tumbled. In Europe, she’d met interesting and interested men, but the only person she’d been able to think about was Shane. She’d even turned down a chance to slip into a hot tub with a Swedish professional skier named Sven. Maya had teased her mercilessly about that. “I missed you, too. But you didn’t have to call.”

  “Actually, I did. Can I see you?”

  “When?”

  “Now. I’m outside Maya’s house.”

  She went to the window. Sure enough, Shane’s car was parked outside, and he was sitting in the driver’s seat, cell phone pressed to his ear. He waved tentatively through the darkness.

  “Have you been here all this time?”

  “No. I got the call from Arty around four-thirty. I drove from Brooklyn as quick as I could. I didn’t think traffic would’ve been so bad on the roads, but there was a snowstorm and...” He trailed off. “Well, I’m here now. Can we talk?”

  He’d driven more than three hours from Brooklyn through a snowstorm just to see her. The least she could do was say hello. “Hang on.” She slipped on her shoes and hurried through the biting cold to Shane’s car. She didn’t feel right inviting him into Maya’s home, and she didn’t want to wake her friend.

  She opened the door and slid into the passenger seat, and was immediately enveloped by Shane’s spicy, clean scent. “Hey.”

  He smiled briefly. He looked a little haggard, probably as bad as she did after her long flight. And yet, she’d never felt more alive and refreshed seeing him here. “Hey.”

  He glanced away, grim lines etching his face. “Guess you must’ve seen the site on your way into town.”

  The site. As in the condo, not the theater. It was no longer the Crown, except in name. Strangely, the fact that they’d adopted the theater’s name for the project didn’t bother her as much as she thought it should.

  “It was bound to happen sooner or later,” she said finally. “I’m sure the project has been stalled long enough.”

  “It may have to be stalled a bit longer. There are some new plans. But before they go ahead, I needed to show them to you.” He flicked on the car�
��s overhead light and pulled out a folder. Perplexed, Mira glanced at him. It wasn’t as if she had any say in construction.

  He opened the folder filled with blueprints. “Originally, the condo was going to have a swimming pool,” he said. “But it turns out people don’t really like paying the maintenance fees for an amenity most residents don’t use. Frankly, the lake is way better for swimming anyhow. So I thought we could do something else. Something better.” He handed her a piece of concept art—one of those computer generated images with smiling people placed in it to make it look real.

  She did a double take. Red velvet curtains with gold fringe, plush red upholstered seats, aisle lights...

  “It’s a movie theater,” Shane explained unnecessarily. “A mini version of the Crown to replace what we took down.”

  Mira looked up at him, astonished as he pointed out the features in the concept drawings.

  “The demo crew saved a bunch of the old seats to get reused, though they’ll all be reupholstered. And the equipment will all be brand-new and state-of-the-art. It’ll be open to the public for special occasions, but it’ll also be available for private parties, and as a facility for the condo residents. But we need your permission.”

  “My...permission?”

  “We want to name it the Jack Bateman Memorial Theater.” He fidgeted. “I didn’t want to go ahead with this until I had your okay. I insisted on it, really.”

  Her chest hurt. “You held up construction just to talk to me about this?”

  He nodded. “It took some convincing, but the board at Sagmar agreed we needed to reestablish a rapport with everyone in town. And I didn’t want to just email you. I had to see you...show you and ask you myself. I didn’t want to go behind your back on this. I won’t ever lie to you or trick you into anything ever again. Arty thought it would be a nice surprise if we just went ahead, but I couldn’t, especially if you’re not okay with this—”

  “I’m okay with this,” she said quickly. “In fact, I’m...stunned. And honored.” She touched his arm as happy tears threatened. “Grandpa would’ve loved this.”