Page 20 of Close Match
“Fine. We have about an hour before she leaves to go back to her place to bang her newest piece.” Both of them wince. “TMI? Sorry, it’s going to get more explicit before the night’s over.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Simon mutters as I grab my purse. Bristol wisely grabs my mother’s diary. The three of us head out on our way to the dance studio to find out what my godmother knew.
And for how long.
Eleven
Evangeline
The last student files out of the class before I dare to enter in my street shoes, something Veronica in her role as Madame would typically gut me for. But before she can, I hold up Mom’s diary that Bristol shoved in my hand while we were waiting and hiss, “Did you know?”
Veronica pales. “How…where did you find that, Linnie?” Swaying on her feet, Stefano steps forward. Her head tips up to him. “Go. I’ll be fine.”
He shoots me a dirty look before he brushes his lips against her forehead. I’m taken aback when I realize he truly cares about my godmother, something I never cottoned on to until now. But still, I agree. He’s not family. Then again, I guess I’m not entirely that either according to this book. But I’ll protect my mother’s secrets as long as I can.
“I’ll shower and call for the car.” At her halfhearted smile, he turns his deep-set eyes at me. “Do not upset her.”
Bristol jumps in. “Upset her? How about she tells us the goddamn truth and we’ll never bother her again?”
Tears begin to slide down Veronica’s face. “Darlings,” she cries, but my heart is already dead in my chest. Another betrayal. How many would I have to endure so quickly?
“There are exactly two people in this world I trust right now, Veronica. And I only know I can trust them because in the last few hours they’ve been as devastated by what’s in this book as I have.”
“Please, come with me so we can talk.”
I shake my head adamantly. “Is what she wrote in here true?” My voice is as hard as I want my heart to be.
Her face crumbles right before she whispers, “Yes.”
“How could you not tell me?” I demand. I feel Bristol and Simon each lay a hand on my shoulder in support.
“Linnie, you have to understand. She was in love with Patrick, but they were on a break—”
I rudely interrupt. “Because of her drinking.” I lash out. Everything that has ultimately gone wrong in my life has had to due to my mother’s drinking. Now we can add her death and the fact my father wasn’t really my father to the list.
“Yes,” she admits. “I knew she had written things down, but I don’t know what she wrote exactly. During that time, she met a man named Rhett. They met in a bar while we were touring in Chicago. It was brief, Linnie. She told me she did not know for sure until many years later that you were not Patrick’s until he got ill. When they typed his blood, she realized… I may be telling you things you already know.”
“You confirmed what she wrote, yes,” I agree.
“Well.” Veronica swallows. “He was sweet. Funny, she said. They spent most of their free time together during that trip. He left. She left. In the end, she and Patrick worked things out. She loved your father.” Her tear-filled eyes drift to Bristol, who’s standing stiffly beside me, feeling her own betrayal over our mother’s actions.
I believe her. There’s too much there that corresponds with what my mother wrote. Except— “I’m certain Bristol’s father knew well before his illness, Veronica,” I say calmly.
“No, there is no way,” she denies emphatically.
“I think he found this book because one day, he went from being my dad to becoming a man with an obligation who allowed me to call him Father. There’s a huge difference, you know. Bris and I used to talk about it, wouldn’t we?” Blindly reaching out, I grab my sister’s hand.
She clasps it. “Yes. I must have been eight; Linnie would have been twelve? But one day he was…” Her voice trails off.
“A stranger. Just like Mom is now,” I say sadly.
Veronica approaches us—in my opinion bravely, in our current state of minds. “Your mother loved you both. You were her biggest blessing. She would have spared you any pain,” she insists. She lifts her hand to touch my hair.
I jerk back. “Then why did she leave me to find out like this? Why did you?” My voice breaks on the question.
Veronica’s hand drops without making contact. “Because it was my hope you would never have found out at all,” she whispers.
My stomach churns with nausea I’m barely beating back, but I know the truth. Evangeline Brogan is just another role I’ve been playing. Only it’s the longest one I’ve had since I’ve been doing it for thirty-three years.
