Page 124 of Close Match
“I’ll be right here. Just like I was when all of this started,” Bristol swears. Her hand reaches out to grip mine. We crush the envelope between us.
Leaning forward, I drop my forehead to hers. For long moments, I absorb her strength. After a while, I nod. Bristol steps back, leaving the envelope in my hands. Using a nail to unseal the back, I slide out the paper and unfold it. A card flutters to the floor. I look at the paper on both sides; it’s blank. My brows lower in a V before I squat down to pick up the card.
You’re not just the Queen of the Stars, darling. You’re the only star in my world. Love, Veronica. PS - the carnations the first night were from me.
And in a flash, I remember the white carnations with no card that appeared in my dressing room. I kept meaning to ask someone about them but kept forgetting to write it down. Damn me. Damn my memory—damn time.
“I’m so sorry, Veronica,” I weep. “I’m so sorry this happened to you.” Bristol sits down next to me, holding on.
There’s nothing else to say about a woman who pulled her death crashing down upon herself.
Seventy-Eight
Evangeline
Simon, Bristol, and I are sitting in our lawyer’s office with mutual looks of astonishment on our faces. “She wanted us to do what?” Simon’s the first one capable of speech.
“Ms. Solomone was explicit in her wishes.” Eric glances down at his papers to review them one more time. “One hundred percent of the assets of her estate was to be donated to a charity as determined by Ms. Evangeline Brogan for individuals who are recovering from drug and alcohol addiction.” A faint smile crosses his face. “She even sold her condominium to add to her assets.’
“That’s why she was living in an apartment,” Bristol says faintly. “I thought…”
“Exactly what you were supposed to think, Mrs. Houde. She didn’t expect to go the way she did.” His eyes are sad. “But she knew she was dying. She had been diagnosed with a somewhat advanced case of cirrhosis of the liver just after Mrs. Brogan passed away. She came in to see me not long after.” He folds his hands together. “When you found out about your birth father, Ms. Brogan—”
Impatiently, I snap, “Evangeline. Christ, Eric, we’ve known each other for years. We were at the same college at the same time.”
A smile briefly touches his lips. “I remember. If I get caught calling you that by my colleagues…”
“Then I’ll handle it. I can’t handle the ‘Ms.’ and ‘Mrs.’ formality crap right now. What did Veronica actually say?” My heart is thumping harder than any dance routine Veronica put it through.
“That you were rightfully angry with her. If she could have made better decisions, she would have. She should have listened to her angel that she was blessed with instead of the devil that ended up killing her. But maybe you could rewrite history in her honor.”
I shove to my feet even as the first tear falls down my face.
“I have another letter for you to read, this one much lengthier than the one I gave to you the other day.” Eric’s voice holds great sorrow. “She explains her behavior in the last few months in great detail. She was trying to make this easier for you, Evangeline. She knew your feelings would be conflicted between getting to know your father and her…well, she liked to call it her transition.”
“It wasn’t her right,” Bristol interjects quietly. I nod. That’s all I can manage.
“Maybe not, but it was her decision.” I close my eyes in pain because he’s just communicating Veronica’s wishes. She couldn’t save herself, so in the end, she tried to save me.
In less than a year, I’ve watched people I love drown their demons and grief, and others pay the sins for doing so. And in the end, I’m left doing what I was doing exactly what I was doing at the beginning of it: searching for answers to questions I may never be able to solve. But there’s one thing I can do. Tuning back into the conversation, I hear Eric say to Simon and Bristol “…took it upon myself to research some charities who would benefit from a donation of this sort.”
“No.” The word flies out of my mouth. “It’s not enough. Not anymore. It doesn’t honor her enough. Not Mom, not Veronica.”And not Monty, I think silently.
“What are you thinking, Linnie?” Bristol crosses over to me. She reaches for my hand and grips it.
I grapple with putting what I’m thinking in perspective. “They needed help. Who was there for them? Your dad was there for Mom, but who was there for Veronica to stop her from going down this path?”
Bristol looks thoughtful. “Are you thinking about setting up a clinic? Therapy?”
I shake my head. “Not just therapy.” Frustrated, I begin to pace back and forth. “Where were her mentors—not just Mom? Where was the support to guide her? It can’t be just the two of them. Surely, this is happening more frequently than this.”
“What do you want to do, ask everyone we know?” Simon jests, but I’m not in the mood.
“Yes! Why wouldn’t we? These are our friends, our colleagues, who won’t talk if we don’t ask.” I’m shouting, and I don’t care.
Simon frowns at me thoughtfully. “What you’re suggesting is going to be next to impossible.”
“Then let’s make it possible!” I cry out. “Because I can’t go to sleep one more night knowing there’s someone else out there we might have been able to help in our extended family, Simon. Can you?”
