Page 77 of Edge of Ruin
Several hours later, after a long, complicated, emotional stint at the police station, Vivi and I finally managed to get to our hotel. We had scrounged yet another car from Vivi’s long-suffering family, since the blood-drenched Jetta had been sequestered, and it was past dawn by the time we checked into our room.
Vivi’s sisters had begged for her to come back to stay with them in Hempton, but Vivi had quietly but stubbornly insisted on some time alone with me. I was pathetically grateful for that small grace. Her sisters were great, and I liked them fine, but the conversation I needed to have with Vivi required privacy.
Vivi flipped on the light, dropped her bags by the door and left the blackout curtains closed against the morning sunshine. She sat on the bed, her eyes big and solemn. She looked like a girl from another century, hair tangled and soft around her like a red cape. She wore a blue dress that one of her sisters had lent her, but it was too big for her. The neckline drooped low over her bosom, showing off her tattoo.
She followed my gaze and smiled. “Hey, buddy,” she said. “Are you looking at my Eranthis hyemalis?”
“I can’t keep my eyes off you,” I admitted. “Does it make you nervous?”
She reached up to touch the little yellow flower on her bosom, giving me a smile that made my jeans suddenly feel too tight. “Not in the least.”
I sank to my knees in front of her. “You promised me that if the axe was lifted, we could have this conversation,” I reminded her. “About us. And our future.”
“So I did,” she said demurely. “The axe is gone. And here we are.”
I stared searchingly into her face. “Why were you such a hard-ass, Viv? Were you punishing me for being a dickhead before?”
She shook her head, and laid her hand against my jaw, stroking it. “Hell no,” she whispered. “I was just trying to be a grownup. How could you hook up with a woman who was nothing but a black hole of problems? What kind of a future could you possibly plan with a woman like that?”
I laughed. “I don’t care. I’d marry you anyway. I’d marry you if those fuckers were banging on the door this very minute.”
She pulled me closer, between her knees. I leaned forward against the swag of her full skirt, seeking more contact.
“I thought it would be better not to make plans, or get attached to the future,” she said. “Since I thought I might not even have a future. Better to stay in the moment. Since you’d already taught me how.”
“Ouch,” I grumbled. “Would you stop it with that?”
“I don’t mean it as a judgment.” There was a smile in her voice.
“The hell you don’t.” My arms slid around her waist, and I nuzzled her breasts, dragging in a deep lungful of her sweet scent, rubbing my cheek against a glossy lock of dangling hair. “This is the thing, about staying in the moment,” I said carefully. “There’s a lot to be said for it, but certain things require a longer arc. Like planting trees. A flower garden. You plant, you wait, you weed, you water, and finally, eventually, you enjoy. It takes months. Years. Or waiting for those Eranthis hyemalis seedlings to take root and spread into a floral carpet. That takes time. That’s not a momentary thing. They won’t even bloom until February. Understand?”
“Oh, yeah,” she whispered, her mouth touching my ear.
I was shaking, deep in my core. “Opening a gallery shop of wearable, usable art, for example,” I went on, doggedly. “That’s another long arc. Or, uh, making a baby. Although I don’t know … now that you’re a potential mega-zillionaire, things might be different for you. You might want to live a glamorous, jet-setting sort of life. What the fuck do I know.”
“Mega-zillionaire, my ass.” She shook her head, smiling. “If I ever do see any money from that mess, the only difference it’ll make is that I’ll be able to hire a girl to help me at the shop. So that I can work on my art. And, ah, the baby. Of course.”
I was grinning like a fool. I wanted to roll over backward for joy, wave my legs in the air like Edna. I controlled the impulse with some difficulty. A proposal of marriage should be dignified, goddammit.
She slid both hands into the hair on the back of my head and leaned her forehead against mine. Her hair fell down, fragrant against my cheek.
“You told me a few weeks ago that I’d pack up my van and drive away as soon as I realized what it meant to look at the same place, day in and day out,” she said. “Or the same person.”
“I’m sorry.” I nuzzled that fragrant hank of hair. “I was a dick. I know it.”
“No, no. I wasn’t roasting you. Let me finish. I just wanted to say that, um, I think I’ve realized what it means.”
I pulled away, gazing at her with narrowed eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yours is the face I want to look at for the rest of my life,” she said. “Day in and day out. I want to see it echoed in my children’s faces, if we get lucky that way. While seasons turn, with rain and snow and wind and sun. While flowers bud and bloom and go to seed all around us. While seedling trees grow way up into the sky. A long arc. Decade after decade after decade. As long as life gives us.”
I hid my shaking face against her chest again, letting secret tears soak into her dress. “Just one more question, Viv,” I ventured.
“And what’s that?” There was a soft smile in her voice.
“What the hell was that thing you had to stop at Lucia’s house to pick up last night? The suspense is killing me.”
She burst into startled laughter. “Oh! I forgot all about that, what with one thing and another. I’ll show you right now. It’s actually kind of a silly joke.” She retrieved the plastic bag from where she’d left it by the door and gave me an embarrassed look. “This makes me a little shy.”
