True Colors

“No. Talk to Winona. I know how much you guys like each other.” She patted Luke’s shoulder as if he were a— lapdog.

“It’ll only take a second.” She refused to look at Winona, whose frown had deepened.

“Okay,” Luke said. “Hurry back.”

Feeling guilty and yet unable to stop herself, Vivi Ann rushed out of the tavern. The parking lot was empty.

He hadn’t waited for her.

She ran out to the street and saw him. He was at the corner by Myrtle’s Ice Cream Shop. He tilted his head for a moment as if he were listening to something, then he walked into the dark alley beside it.

“Stay here, Vivi,” she said aloud. “This is trouble.” But when he moved, she followed, staying far enough back that he couldn’t hear her. The alley was one of the few places in town Vivi Ann had never been, not even as a kid. It was narrow and dark and thick with litter: beer cans, empty booze bottles, cigarette butts. At the end of it, she paused and peered around.

Cat Morgan’s ramshackle bungalow sat on a lozenge of land that clung to the shoreline by dint of will. The yard was a mess and so was the house. Duct tape crisscrossed several broken windows and the front door hung askew. Moss furred the roof and turned the chimney a sick, nuclear-waste green. Over the years, Vivi Ann had heard dozens of shocking stories about what went on in this house.

Music pulsed into the night, a hard heavy metal song Vivi Ann didn’t recognize. Through the dirty windows, she could see people dancing.

Dallas went up to the front door and knocked.

The door swung open and Cat Morgan walked out. She wore a black velvet halter top that showed off her big boobs and tight black jeans tucked into silver cowboy boots. Hair the color of newly minted pennies fell in wild curls on either side of her heavily made-up face, and a dozen or so sterling bracelets encircled her wrist.

“Hey,” Dallas said.

Cat said something Vivi Ann couldn’t hear, then motioned for him to come inside. The screen door banged shut behind them.

Vivi Ann stood there a moment longer, waiting. When it was clear that Dallas wasn’t coming out, she headed back toward the nice part of town. In less than three minutes, she was in the Outlaw again, seated across from Luke and Winona.

Safe. Like always.

“I’ve been wanting to talk about our wedding,” Luke said. “And now we’re all together. Is this a good time?”

She worked up a smile. “Sure, Luke. Let’s talk about it.”

“I am telling you, Aurora, something’s wrong.”

“Wow, big surprise. Here’s what’s wrong, Win: you’re an idiot. Even with your continent-sized brain, you didn’t get what was happening right in front of you and now you’re screwed. Your little sister is engaged to the man you love.”

“I never said I loved him.”

“And I never said my husband was boring, but you knew, just like I know about Luke.”

Winona sat back and pushed off. They were in the hanging porch swing at her sister’s house. The old chains creaked at the movement. “She doesn’t love him, Aurora.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“What can I do? It’s over.”

“It’s not over till it’s over. All you have to do is tell Vivi Ann the truth. She’ll make it go away. She won’t marry him. I guarantee it.”

Winona stared out at her sister’s shadowy yard. It was ten o’clock on a weeknight and most of the neighboring houses were dark. Oyster Shores closed up early in the spring. “So all I have to do is admit that I love a man who thinks I’m a good lawyer and a great friend, and tell my beautiful younger sister that my happiness is more important than hers, and—just to add a cherry on the sundae of this humiliation—let Dad know that we won’t be getting Luke’s land by marriage after all, because pathetic Winona got in the way.”

“Jeez, when you put it that way . . .”

“It is that way. Maybe I could have done something at the start. I’ll admit I screwed up, but it’s too late now. I just have to suck it up.”

“Do you think you can quit being such a bitch? While you’re sucking it up, I mean?”

“I haven’t been a bitch.”