Page 77 of Close Match
“Will you tell me?” The thought of putting the horrifying images of my last case into her head appalls me, so I hedge.
“What I can.”
There’s silence from the other balcony. I can hear the soft nicker of the horses in the distance before she starts talking. “I don’t know. I was just feeling lonely because I couldn’t talk to my mom about tonight. I mean, I called Bristol, but she’s in baby mode. Mom? She’d have loved hearing about every detail. There are so few people I’m able to trust deep down. It’s weird that I find it’s here I get to be just Linnie, when I never have before. To protect myself, I built my life keeping people at a distance.”
“That must have been incredibly lonely,” I think aloud.
“Am I allowed to say yes to that when it was by my choice?”
“I don’t know. But I wonder if Ev ever feels like that.”
“I never thought of talking to…”
“Your father?”
“Yeah.” The nights are getting cold. I shiver despite the sweater I’m wearing. Her next words surprise me. “I was so afraid to come here.”
“Why?” I lean over the edge.
“I don’t know. Maybe I was afraid I wouldn’t be accepted.”
“If you think you were worried, you should have seen Ev.” Her soft chuckle warms me. “What did you mean when you said this was the first time you got to be just Linnie?”
I hear a chair scrape back. Then I hear the soles of Linnie’s shoes as she approaches the railing closest to where I’m standing.
“I’ve been to parties where I’ve worn jewelry worth more than people’s homes. I’ve danced in dresses that cost more than their cars. And the person people want to talk to is Evangeline, not Linnie. Their interest in me extends to how I can help boost their career. The funeral for my mother was a spectacle—I mean a true media circus. Only a small handful of us care that she’s gone.” I can hear her exhale across the feet of darkness shrouding us.
“For well over a year, it was speculated I was having an affair with my male lead.” Before I can ask, she adds dryly, “Even if Simon and I weren’t the closest of friends, my sister would have killed me since he’s her husband, father of her child, and the love of her life. They wouldn’t care about redone barns, or a little girl’s hair. Is any of this making sense?”
“Not really.”
“I was always too busy chasing the next spotlight. I thought if I earned enough awards, I could substitute them in place for my father’s lack of love for me when there’s no substitute for that. So, I’m angry right now, Monty. Maybe I could have had all of this for fucking years. And I’m upset because I’m angry with my dead mother who I loved more than anyone in the world.” Bewildered, she asks, “How am I supposed to handle that?”
“Not easily,” I admit.
“The week before she died, my mother reminded me of something I’ll always have in my memory. ‘Look beyond the lights of the stage.’ She used to say it to me all the time. It was her way of reminding me there was life beyond the theater.” The air goes still for a moment before her voice penetrates it again. “I guess we all have versions of ourselves we show to the world.”
“I would agree,” I tell her gently. But in my mind, I’m thinking of the nightmares, the unraveling, the excuses I give myself for my nocturnal behavior.
“Yeah.”
The night cloaks us, so it gives me the courage to ask something I’ve been curious about. “Do you think she was meant to be with Ev or your father?”
“Neither. She was meant to sing to the heavens, dance for the angels, be worshiped in the arms of strangers. She was supposed to be everyone’s best friend, no one’s worst enemy, and could do it all as easily as I breathe. She would have been horrible for Ev whereas Char is his perfect match,” Linnie tells me firmly.
“You sound certain about that.”
“I am. For me, it’s a job I’m damn good at, but since I’ve been here, I realized I want more from life than a game of empty spotlights and faces I can’t see beyond the edge of them. I want to know the people whose lives I touch.” I don’t know if it’s the darkness that enshrouds us, but she admits, “I fear I was becoming a diva in the truest sense of the word. I’m not like that.”
“You’re not?” My voice is mocking as I think back to our early meeting at Georgia Browns where she meticulously ordered her drink.
She makes a scoffing noise.
“All I’m saying is they made a movie about a woman who ordered just like that. It’s calledWhen Harry Met Sally.”
Linnie’s giggle twinkles into the night.
“This wasn’t what I was expecting when I came out here,” she murmurs once she’s gotten herself under control.
