Page 94 of When We Were Enemies
“We got the concrete.” I tossed the paper in his direction. He read the page and put it aside with a rock on top to keep it from blowing away. No reaction. “We can pour the foundation now.”
“Yes,” he said with little emotion, lining up his writing utensils.
“And the dance? Saturday night? Will you all be there?”
“I don’t know.”
His noncommittal attitude felt like a rejection. I’d been through a rough moment with Tom in front of my place of employment, and now Trombello treated me indifferently—the one truly kind man I’ve met in a long time.
“What should we call you?” Trombello asked as I started to step away, ready to go back to the safety of my desk.
“Huh?”
He pointed to my tin ring. I was about to explain the whole thing, how Tom loved me and I loved him and how he was transferring for Ranger training. How we were going to get married even though his family wouldn’t like it, and he promised to take care of me and my family, and he supported my dreams. But Tom was right—no one would understand. It’s a secret—our secret. For now, at least.
“Snow,” I said, using my stage name, grief coming over me. I’d thought Trombello might be the one person I could be myself with. The one man who might see and accept me for who I really am—Vivian Santini. But I guess not. So, I’ll be Vivian Snow for Trombello and allthe men at the USO and Archie Lombardo and even for my father, whether he knows it or not.
And even though by the end of this ceremony I’ll be Mrs.Tom Highward, I’m still Vivian Snow to my future husband. I wonder if I’ll ever be the real Vivian again.
“It’s time, Viv,” Aria says, stopping in the doorway and holding a bouquet of flowers from her garden. Her hair is neatly braided for once, and she’s dressed in her best dress, blue as the sky the day Tony drowned. Her mouth drops open. “You look like a movie star.”
“Don’t make me cry,” I say, looking up to keep tears from ruining my makeup.
“I’m already crying,” Ari says, rushing into my arms and resting her head against my chest.
“I wish mamma were here,” Ari says when she pulls away, drying her face.
“Me too, love. Me too.”
“You’re not gonna leave me too, are you, Viv?” I shake my head and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Never, darling. I promise.” And I won’t. Even if I go on tour or to Philadelphia with Tom or to Hollywood, I’ll always be back. I’ll leave Tom before I leave her.
The organ starts to play in the church. I can’t wait any longer.
“Get in there! Hurry. Hurry!” I urge her out with a little wave. She mouths, “Love you,” and I do the same. She rushes away, and I take a moment to sneak one last look in the mirror, checking my lipstick and veil. But even with the organ music vamping in the background and the little tap on the door, Carly coming to get me this time, I stare at my reflection.
I do look like a different version of myself. She’s calm and collected and pretty enough, I guess. I’ll get used to this girl. I think I’ll have to.
“Goodbye, Vivian Santini,” I say to the reflection in the mirror, and then walk out the door to my future.
CHAPTER 31
Elise
Present Day
Room 435
“You knew Grandpa wasn’t your father?” I ask my mom, my head swirling with all the new information.
“No, no. I was always told Tom Highward was my father. Always. He and your grandmother were legally married in 1943. But it turns out he didn’t die in the war. That was a lie Archie came up with to get around the morality clause when mamma signed her contract with MGM. I never considered, never once till now, that he wasn’t my daddy after all.”
“And you don’t think Mac knew this when he started his project?” I ask, pointing a finger in her boyfriend’s direction. “This was all a setup; can’t you see that?”
Mac holds up his hands like I’m pointing a gun at him.
“I did know some of it,” he says. “I knew Tom Highward didn’t die in battle. I knew he wasn’t buried in Rest Haven, and I even knew his family was wealthy and had shunned your mother and Vivian after he abandoned them. But only recently did I learn about the priest—theone in the albums, I mean,” he clarifies, and I cringe at even the slightest reference to Father Patrick.
