Broken Serenade Read online

  “Dear God,” she started with ardor. “I beg you, I implore you, don’t let Tee marry Nadine today. Please, please,” she asked insistently. “She doesn’t deserve him. I do. And You know that, because You know everything. So please, please, please, don’t let him marry her.”

  The bedroom door opened unexpectedly, and Mrs. Alison Hopkins appeared in the doorframe.

  “Good morning, bluebell! Why are you sitting on the floor, sweetheart?”

  Joyfully singing a funny tune, she dashed into the room and placed Vivien’s dress, shoes, socks, and hair-flowers on the armchair by the bed with remarkable scrupulosity. After that, Alison kneeled and took her daughter in her arms. She gingerly touched the child’s brown curls - so darkly brown they almost seemed black.

  Vivien rested her head on her mother’s chest.

  “Did you sleep well last night? My sweet, my beautiful little baby!” Her mom hugged her lovingly, leaving quick little kisses on her head and cheeks.

  Vivien hurriedly sent her passionate prayer to Dear God one more time. Then, she answered her mother’s question.

  “Yes, mommy. I slept like an angel.”

  “That is exactly how you’re going to look today at Tim and Nadine’s wedding. Wasn’t Nadine so gracious to choose you to be her flower-girl?”

  “Mademoiselle Lili asked her.”

  “Mademoiselle Lili only suggested it, sweetie,” her mother corrected her. “In the end, it was Nadine’s choice, and you should thank her.”

  A few hours later, Vivien was descending the white marble stairs holding on to the slippery railings with exaggerated care. She stopped in the foyer and happily admired herself in the gigantic mirror that covered the wall by the entrance door. All dressed in white, she looked like out of a fairy tale. Only the hair flowers were a light blue, and they went perfectly with her big blue eyes.

  She slunk out of the house with the ability of a tiny mouse, without anyone noticing her escape. She tiptoed quietly on the wild cherries alley up to the gazebo. Then, without hesitation, she made a quick left turn and broke into a sprint toward the house with dwarfs where Mademoiselle Lili - her piano and French teacher - lived.

  Vivien liked Mademoiselle Lili enormously, because she was beautiful and elegant and because she let her try on her high-heel shoes and sandals whenever that thought tickled her fancy. Moreover, a month ago, her sophisticated piano teacher had allowed her to test all her perfumes, while she had been on the phone with a lover she repeatedly called “sweet love”. The woman had misled him to believe that she had put his pictures on her piano and on her vanity. Clever, Mademoiselle Lili! Vivien thought with admiration, thinking that she would never be able to lie to someone with so much courage and confidence. On her piano and on her vanity, the woman had displayed sexy pictures of her favorite student - Nadine! She still had them there. She wasn’t afraid her nose would grow, and she would look like Pinocchio, or that her lover would drop by and would catch her in the lie. All because of Nadine! Vivien was jealous on Nadine. Now Nadine was taking her Tee too. Tee was Vivien’s knight in bright-white armors. God knows. Tee is mine.

  Four years back, when Vivien had just turned four, Tee had saved her life. Killer, their neighbor’s Pit-bull monster, had cornered her in the lavender bushes and would have torn her apart if not for Tee’s rapid intervention. He had lifted her on his broad shoulders, careless that he was destroying his Prom night impeccable attire. He had so bravely fought for her with the unleashed dog, that he had become her hero forever.

  Vivien sneaked into the neighboring yard through the broken, ivy-invaded fence that Mademoiselle Lili’s friend, Mr. Logan, would not care to fix. He was well too preoccupied with his sculptures. “Art is such an insatiable beast. It sucks the energy out of the artist, so there is nothing left for petty, unimportant tasks,” Mademoiselle Lili would often say to Mr. Logan’s defense. Mademoiselle Lili is ever so nice!

  The little girl saluted quickly the two funny dwarfs guarding the entrance. Mr. Logan had just finished them a couple of days ago. She jumped over her usual, graceful bow – she was in a hurry! Vivien was burning with excitement. She wanted to show Mademoiselle Lili how beautiful she looked today.

  She stood on her toes and stretched her arm to ring the doorbell placed unusually high on the wall. Before her finger reached the dirty button, she observed that the door was cracked open. She pushed it just enough to allow herself to slip inside the house.

  A superb bride’s dress was thrown in disorder on the piano, and a pair of white high-heel shoes lay scattered under the stool.

  From the upper floor, Vivien could hear Nadine’s insolent laughter and her intriguing, low-pitched voice.

  “Come on Lili, stop lamenting! I will not exit your… vicious circle,” Nadine quipped giggling, evidently in an exceptionally good mood. “God, I can’t stand that sniveling! Lili, you have to understand, I love Tim, and I need him. Tim is my chance to a normal life. I can’t afford to miss the boat this time, I’m getting older.”

  Mademoiselle Lili’s impotent answer precipitated in a cascade of muffled whispers. Only her ankle bracelet clinked joyfully, and the little girl imagined her piano teacher walking back and forth as she always did when she was nervous.

  Vivien had never seen Mademoiselle Lili without that vulgarly expensive anklet embellished with diamonds that – according to her parents’ sayings – were worth as much as a Ferrari. There was a malicious rumor going around that she always wore it at her left ankle to distract attention from the ugly birthmark on her right ankle. Nevertheless, Mademoiselle Lili concealed it wonderfully, using makeup. She does a great job. And anyway, her birthmark isn’t even half as disgusting as people say it is, the child thought, ready at any moment to defend her beloved teacher.

  Vivien eyed covetously the exquisite white shoes with metallic high-heels. She would have liked to try them on, to walk in them a little, but Nadine would have never allowed her that. Nadine was a particularly possessive young woman, a very enigmatic and secretive person. Vivien had overheard her mother telling a friend that Nadine had not invited anyone to help her choose the dress, veil, or shoes. She had been dead set to keep her wedding attire secret for everybody, starting with Timothy and ending with the last piccolo that served at the party.

  The letter on the piano, coming out partially opened from its pink envelope, tempted Vivien to go back and take a look at it. She played with the thought for a couple of seconds, watching mesmerized the yellow roses printed elegantly on the right upper corner of that high-quality paper. The dialogue that reverberated from upstairs raised her curiosity and urged her to climb the stairs. The women’s conversation became clearer with every single step she took.

  “I think I’ll dye my hair after the wedding. A light brown…or maybe even something darker…much closer to my natural color,” Nadine announced. “Then, I’ll just let it grow. I’m so sick and tired of this color! All women around me are blonde!”

  “Blonde hair makes you look gorgeous, gives you radiance and noblesse. My Amazon women will always be blonde, and you are not going to be an exception, Nadine!” Mademoiselle Lili admonished her. “You’ve got to stop being such a rebel. This attitude is not you at all. I consider Timothy Leigh to be a bad influence on you. I will not tolerate the slightest sign of mutiny inside my organization.”

  “Don’t you want to know how it was at the dentist’s office?” Nadine said. She asked the question as if she had not heard Lili’s last words, or as if she were conversing now with an entirely different person.

  “I didn’t have any problem,” she continued. “My teeth look better indeed. They are sparkling white now! Don’t forget to remind me to return your insurance card. Anyway, my purse is in your car.”

  “I’m lucky I guess. I didn’t need their services so far,” Lili muttered.

  There was silence for a few moments.

  “There is something else,” Lili said, very excited all of a sudden. “I want you to have my ankle brac
elet. You know what they say: something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.” Your dress is new. Your flowers are blue. You borrowed the garter from lucky Alison. And something older than this marvelous piece of jewelry I doubt that anybody else can offer you.”

  “Lili, this is absolutely scandalous!” Nadine exclaimed. “I cannot accept such an expensive gift!”

  Mademoiselle Lili started to cry.

  “Nadine, please, I beg you…”

  “OK, OK, Lili. I will wear it only today, but after the wedding, you’ll have to take it back. Do you promise? This is all I can do.”

  The dialogue ceased for a minute. Vivien could hear the tinkling of the anklet being moved from one woman to the other. Then, Mademoiselle Lili’s words sounded so heartbreakingly sad, like the voice of a person terribly wounded.

  “Don’t do this,” the woman repeated sobbing. “Don’t do this, sweet love! There is still time to change your mind. You know how much I love you. Please don’t leave me, please don’t go, sweet love…”

  Holy crickets! There is a strange man in the house! That lover of hers is here, the little girl thought, suddenly scared out of her wits.

  Vivien dashed down the stairs, instinctively remembering the intriguing phone conversation Mademoiselle Lili had enjoyed about a month ago while she had been granted the favor of testing all her perfumes. The child rushed out of the house and instantly faced a new problem: Igor’s used bicycle was leaning against the fence. Next to it, his painting canvas, his brushes, and his oil colors palette lay in disarray. Vivien didn’t like Igor. Firstly, because he was Nadine’s brother, and secondly, because she was so afraid of him. The guy was a twisted freak. It was enough to watch his abstract paintings with their morbid colors to realize that something was definitely wrong with him. Moreover, Vivien had seen him many times shooting arrows at squirrels in the backyard. Good thing he had the accuracy of an all-thumbs clown and couldn’t hit any. He has a screw loose, that cuckoo-boy, no doubt about it! She concluded once again.

  The frightened little girl looked around her and didn’t see Igor anywhere. Lucky me! With cautious, small steps, she finally reached the opening in the fence. Then she sprinted across the outside courtyard and went home. She stopped to catch her breath in the miniature garden behind the gazebo and decided to pick a bouquet of pink and purple petunias and feed them to the tiny turtles that wandered everywhere in the yard.

  These ladies are crazy! Vivien reflected worriedly. The wedding is in less than two hours, and they are not even dressed yet.

  It wasn’t too long before she heard her mother calling her.

  “Vivien, we’re leaving! Let’s go, sweetie!”

  They all got into her father’s Mercedes, and in no time, they were driving on Woodside Road. From that, they merged onto La Honda – the winding highway that strenuously crossed the mountains from Woodside to the Pacific Ocean. The road’s unusually tight and frequent curves threatened to turn Vivien’s little stomach upside down. As if that were not enough to put a strain on her nerves, all drive long, her mother instructed her about what to do and what not to do at the party.

  Isn’t that strange how grown-ups imagine that they know everything! Vivien meditated sullenly. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I am eight years old – not a baby anymore!

  She continued to chew reluctantly on Greek olives, hoping they would chase away her motion sickness. Eventually, they did!

  The wedding had been organized to take place on the picturesque beach of San Gregorio.

  Shortly after their arrival, Vivien and her parents spotted Tee vivaciously getting out of his Mitsubishi Eclipse. The exquisite grey coupe had been recently decorated with white, pink, yellow, and lilac flowers and ribbons. A noisy army of pink, blue, and white painted cans was hanging by its fender, and on the back window, someone had written with pink, flowery capital letters,“JUST MARRIED”.

  The young groom checked his white tuxedo with a critical look. He frowned and muffled a few curses. When he noticed the Hopkins family, he beamed and welcomed them warmly. As he got to Vivien, he crouched to level with her height.

  “Vee, you look like a miniature bride,” he complimented her. “Do you want to see the world from above?” Timothy asked as he lifted her up in the air.

  “Yes, Tee, yes, yes!” Vivien sang happily. “Yuck! Is this your new perfume?” She wrinkled her perked little nose. “‘Cause I don’t like it at all. You smell of gasoline! You actually stink, Tee!” she exclaimed disgusted.

  Timothy Leigh graciously ignored her remark. His face was glowing with happiness, and Vivien regretted the fact that she didn’t share his feelings. Furthermore, she had sabotaged him earlier with her morning prayer. Suddenly she felt guilty and ashamed of her own actions.

  From above Tee’s head, she caught a glimpse of Mr. Logan playing the piano. The little girl recognized a part from Arabesque by Claude Debussy. Unfortunately, the performance seemed pathetic, without any trace of passion, like the execution of a novice. It reverberated timid and controlled over the guests’ conversation. The man was sending frequent glances toward the parking lot. Perspiration was dripping down his forehead in heavy beads, and Vivien wondered how it was possible that Mr. Logan suffered from excessive heat here, on the ocean coast, where the cool, humid breeze gave her goose bumps. On the other hand, maybe he was anxious. Apart from her loony brother, Nadine didn’t have any other family, and Mr. Logan had been given the honor of escorting her to the altar.

  The English accent of Timothy’s older brother, Clark, sounded cold and sour as he approached them.

  “Put that child down, Tim, and give me the rings,” he demanded, eyeing his brother with a mixture of surprise and disapproval. He lowered his voice. “And for Christ’s sake, mate, grow up! You’re getting married today!” he barked and then turned away as if to deter further dialogue or introductions.

  Vivien glared at him with total indifference. He was a stranger whom she had never seen before. She had heard of him only. Not much. Clark had flown from England for his younger brother’s wedding, but he didn’t seem very pleased to participate. After a long and acrimonious conflict between their parents that had ended in a painful divorce, Clark had chosen to follow his father in London. Now it was for the first time in almost ten years that he was returning to California. Mr. Leigh senior had declined the wedding invitation invoking problems with his prematurely weakened health.

  In less than an hour, all guests were sitting on their reserved places. A buzz of conversations filled the air. They all waited eagerly for the arrival of the bride.

  Over the murmur caused by the muffled whispers – most of them placed discreetly in the ear of the next-sited person - the used engine of Igor’s half-corroded truck croaked tiredly. Finally, it stopped with a sudden, vulgar sound that made some women blush and some men laugh up their sleeves. The boy climbed out of the car at a snail’s pace, getting on everybody’s nerves with unmasked sadism. A diabolical smirk was hanging on his bonny face unsuccessfully cleaned of painting oils. Nevertheless, you could see that he had tried, and that was something to be much appreciated coming from a person like him. Igor looked even funnier dressed in that borrowed black suit with elaborate sleeves that were far too long for his size. Half of the collar of his white shirt was hidden under the coat. The other half sprang negligently from underneath, like wanting to declare openly that the boy was nothing but a clown struggling in his pubertal crisis.

  Walking affectedly in a manner that dismissed the people around him as unworthy of his attention, Igor reached the altar. He stopped in front of Timothy and whispered loud enough to be heard by at least the guests in the first row.

  “She’s late, isn’t she? What a disaster! Maybe she doesn’t want to marry you after all. That would be a smart move,” the boy said with a smug smile.

  Timothy ran a disparaging look over his odd appearance.

  “Go and plant your skeleton on a chair, Igor. As far back as yo
u can,” he advised the boy clearly, fighting to hide his irascibility. “Try not to spoil our wedding with your presence.”

  “I have something for Mr. Logan,” Igor announced, full of importance.

  He turned his back on Timothy and walked toward the piano. His voice transformed. He adopted a very polite tone.

  “A little while ago, Mademoiselle Lili gave me this envelope for you, sir. She instructed me not to give it to you until this very moment.”

  Mr. Logan received the envelope with shaking hands. He opened it slowly, sending Timothy worried coups d’oeil, as if he already knew that what was concealed inside that envelope concerned them both.

  Indeed, a couple of seconds later he extracted a smaller, pink envelope. He kept it a while between his left palm and his big, round belly that generously overflowed his belt. When he finished reading those few red lines scratched hideously on white paper, he handed the pink envelope to Timothy.

  “This is for you, Tim,” he announced with unsure voice, continuously wiping the sweat off his forehead. His face seemed purple. “I’m sorry, boy. I’m really sorry… But I must leave now, I must,” he mumbled and hurried toward the parking place.

  Timothy tore the envelope apart. A pink letter with yellow roses printed on the right upper corner slipped through his fingers. The young man caught it under the sole of his white leather shoe before the capricious breeze could snatch it and take it into the ocean. He read it, and his beautiful masculine features clouded over with deep emotion and sheer surprise. He turned toward the guests and family and spoke like from another world.

  “She’s not coming. She doesn’t want to marry me anymore.”

  The crowd gasped. Some women began to weep.

  His long, powerful fingers crumpled the envelope and letter into a tight ball that he examined for a while with hatred, disbelieve and despair. Then he stuffed it nervously into the right pocket of his perfectly fit white pants. As the crude reality sank in, the groom’s fury gained an exponential crescendo. Unexpectedly, he unleashed all his anger upon Igor. With both hands, he grabbed the boy by the collar of his coat, lifted him a foot above the ground, and shook him vigorously with hurricane force.