Chasing Vivi(37)

Her hand waves through the air. "Oh, I'm used to it. Mrs. Simpkins is  nearly eighty, and I take her for walks every day. But I've got to say,  she's spry as an elf the way she moves around."

"I can promise I won't be moving like Tinkerbell. I also have to warn  you I may be more than a little skittish because of the attack."

"I can understand that. Maybe if you go and see that things are fine, it will help you some," she says.         

     



 

I agree.

Regina fixes me a huge breakfast. I can't imagine the elfin Mrs. Simpkins eats this much. I leave half on my plate.

"You eat like a sparrow. No wonder you're so skinny and I'm so fat."

"One, you're not fat, and two, I wasn't always skinny."

Regina cleans up the kitchen while I check my email, hoping there's a  response from one of the jobs I posted. But then again, what if there  is? An interview looking like I've been cage fighting probably wouldn't  go over too well. From the looks of my empty inbox, I don't have to  worry about it. As Regina is just about finished with the cleanup, the  doorbell rings.

"Are you expecting anyone?" she asks.

"No."

She answers the door and an attractive, elderly woman walks into the living area. She stands there, scrutinizing me.

It takes me a few seconds to rise out of my seat, but I do. "Hello, I'm-"

"I know who you are. You're Vivienne Renard, my grandson's friend."

Whoa! This is the grandmother Prescott adores.

"Yes, ma'am, I am. And you're his grandmother. He speaks of you often."

A smile flirts with the corners of her mouth. "He does, does he?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hmm. You were raised to have manners, unlike most youth today."

"Ma'am?"

"And I detect an accent."

"Oh, yes, ma'am. I'm from Virginia."

"Prescott mentioned he went to Crestview with you."

"Yes, ma'am, he did."

"Please, sit. I understand you've been through quite an ordeal. I'm sorry for that."

"Thank you." I sit and so does she. "I didn't know you were coming. Would you care for some coffee or tea?"

"No, thank you. I came to meet the woman my grandson has suddenly taken a keen interest in."

This woman, though somewhat smaller than me, has a huge presence as she  sits here. She sets my nerves on edge. There's quite a fierce quality  about her and I'm pretty sure I know why she's come.

"Tell me about yourself."

"What would you like to know?" I ask.

"Everything."

There's no subtlety to her, so I spill it all, leaving out nothing. I'm  bold and don't act as though I require pity, telling it as it is. When I  get to the part about the attack, I'm gracious where Prescott is  concerned. And in telling it, I recall exactly how much he's helped me.  My eyes tear up at remembering, but I refuse to show any weakness and  let them push past my lids.

She pats my hand a few times, but then she moves on to why she's here. And she's blunt.

"I'm glad you're feeling gracious toward my grandson, but if you hurt  one hair on his head, I will personally run you out of this city so  fast, you won't know what hit you."

"Ex-excuse me?" I'm not sure I heard her correctly.

"I don't have to repeat myself. I love that boy with every heartbeat in  my body. He's been through just as much trauma to the heart as you have,  if not more. I don't know what he's told you about his past, so I won't  say more since it's his story to share, not mine. But, I won't have him  hurt. Ever."

"What makes you think I can hurt him?"

She smiles. "Vivienne, either you are extremely naive, blind, or perhaps  you simply don't know my grandson very well now that I think on it. In  all the years I've known him, he has never mentioned a woman to me by  name, had one stay in this home, or worried about what one thought of  him. I know you're thinking-how does she know he's never had a woman  stay here? Trust me, I know. The company has several corporate  apartments he uses for his dalliances. But he doesn't use his personal  residence." Then she leans forward and says, "He even asked me for  advice regarding you. He told me about the coats you returned and how he  wanted to set you up in an apartment. Do you know what I told him?"

I'm staring at her like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

"Of course you don't know. I told him he was treating you like his mistress."

I'm incredulous that he asked his grandmother for advice on how to date me.

"You see, in reality I know my grandson is not perfect, but in my eyes  he will always be. I love him more than anything, and will protect him  at all costs. So, Vivienne, don't you dare hurt him."

"Ma'am, please call me Vivi." It's all I can think to say.

"Never. A woman with a face such as yours deserves a grand name.  Vivienne suits you perfectly. And you may call me Sara. I have a feeling  we'll be seeing each other again." She pats my hand again. "Well, I'll  be on my way. Oh, and, Vivienne, I would prefer it if you keep our  little visit to yourself."         

     



 

"Yes, ma'am, I will." I can't begin to imagine what would happen to me if I told Prescott about it. "Thank you for stopping by."

She lets out a hearty chuckle. "I'm not sure if you really feel that way  or not, but I appreciate the comment. Good day, Vivienne." And she  leaves, telling Regina goodbye on her way out.

I don't know how to feel about her visit. She's enlightened me about  something. Prescott wants me enough that he went to his grandmother for  advice. That's like a son going to his mother, which is a huge deal. At  least I think it is. But then when she said that bit about Prescott's  heart being traumatized, my imagination spins on what might have  happened to him. He never discusses his mother and she's off-limits, so  I'm positive it has to do with her. Sara indicated there was a story in  his past, but it was his to share. This frustrates me even more because I  want to help but am useless unless he opens up to me.

"Are you ready, Vivi?" Regina's voice breaks through my tumbling thoughts.

"Oh, sure."

We end up walking around the block and going to a nearby park. It's  chilly out, but not unbearable for a December day. Afterward, we stop  for mochas at a local coffee shop. It reminds me of Java Beans &  More, and I think about my friends from there as I watch the barista  making our mochas.

A wave of homesickness hit me, not for the home in Virginia, but for the  one I left behind in California. The friends I made during my few years  out there have all fallen off my radar, one by one. As I sit here and  remember that life, I realize it was the one I had dreamed of and worked  so hard to build. I don't regret a moment of taking care of my mom, but  I wish there was a way to get back on track. What the hell happened to  me, really? How did I fall down this rabbit hole to Hell?

"Where have you gone?" Regina asks.

"Sorry. I was only thinking about better times."

Regina grabs my hand. "Listen to me. You're young and have a long life  ahead of you. Once this passes, you get out there and grab it with both  hands, sweetie. Don't let a minute pass you by."

"You're right. I was only thinking of my former life in California." I  explain what happened and she tears up. "I didn't intend to burden you  with this. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. Things will turn around soon. Christmas isn't the best  time to be searching for jobs. My kids tell me that the best time is in  the spring."

"Hmm. You may be right."

"Keep that pretty chin of yours up."

I chuckle at her comment. "You mean this purple chin."

"No, your chin isn't purple. The upper half of your face is, but not your chin."

"Well, I have that going for me then." We laugh together.

We finish our mochas and I feel a little better.

"Vivi, you do have something going for you."

"What's that?"

"A man named Prescott Beckham. I would say that's a lot going for you."

My cheeks spike in temperature and I'm grateful the purple disguises it.  "True, but I don't want to depend on him. I'm used to being on my own,  relying on my own skills, you know?"

"I admire that. I was only saying if you're going to date someone, you picked a winner."

My mouth curves upward, but what exactly are Prescott and I doing  together? Seems to me we're dancing around every issue out there. Maybe I  need to grow some balls and come right out and ask him. It's either  going to be that, or I'll move back in with Eric. Come to think of it,  that thought sort of fires me up. I miss Eric's cheerfulness. Even his  visit yesterday perked me up. If I'm well enough to move around like  this, there's really no reason for me not to move back with him.

When we get back to Prescott's, I call Eric, but he doesn't answer. I  text him and ask him what he thinks. Again, he doesn't respond, so I  wait. There's no use making plans unless I get his commitment and  agreement to help me.