Vivian Vale: Dinner With His Parents

Vivian Vale noticed Jasmine before she noticed the lie. That was unusual. Usually the lie came first, a faint metallic bitterness at the back of her tongue that made her look up from whatever book, menu, wineglass, or unfortunate conversation currently occupied her, but tonight she had already been watching the young woman at the neighboring table for several minutes before the first deception arrived. Jasmine was perhaps twenty-nine, dark-skinned, elegant, with shoulder-length curls and a deep blue dress that looked sophisticated without trying too hard, and although she smiled whenever the older couple across from her spoke, there was something restrained in the smile, something careful, as though she had spent the evening waiting to discover whether she had been invited as family or merely permitted to sit near it. Beside her sat a man in his early thirties. Polished. Expensive watch. Confident enough to speak for everyone at the table. Vivian disliked him almost immediately. Not because he had done anything wrong yet. Experience. She had learned to trust it. The older woman across from them smiled at Jasmine. “So, Daniel tells us you're indispensable.” Jasmine glanced toward him. “Does he?” Daniel laughed. “Absolutely.” His father nodded. “He says the office would collapse without you.” Jasmine's smile changed. Just slightly. Vivian noticed. The metallic taste came a moment later. Daniel leaned toward Jasmine and said quietly enough that he probably assumed nobody else could hear: “Don't worry. They know about us.” Lie. Vivian lowered her menu. Interesting. Jasmine whispered, “You told them?” “Of course.” Lie. “And they're okay with it?” Daniel smiled. “They love you.” Lie. Vivian slowly closed the menu. There were evenings when fate worked much too hard. Jasmine touched Daniel's arm beneath the edge of the table. “You said your mother wanted to meet me.” “She did.” Lie. “She asked about me?” “All the time.” Lie. Vivian picked up her wine. This was becoming irritating. Daniel's mother turned toward Jasmine. “So how long have you been working with Daniel?” Jasmine froze. Daniel answered quickly. “Almost two years.” “That long?” His father smiled. “You must know all his secrets by now.” Jasmine looked directly at Daniel. “Oh, I know a few.” His mother laughed. Daniel did not. Vivian watched the exchange carefully. Jasmine said, “Actually, Daniel and I spend quite a lot of time together outside work.” Daniel reached for his water. His father nodded. “Those client events can be brutal.” Jasmine stared at him. “Client events?” Daniel interrupted. “Dad means all the dinners.” His mother smiled warmly. “It's good Daniel has someone dependable helping him. Rachel is always saying he works too much.” Jasmine's expression went still. Vivian felt the atmosphere at the neighboring table change so abruptly that even people without supernatural abilities should have noticed. Jasmine said, “Rachel?” Daniel's fork stopped halfway to his mouth. His mother looked at him. Then at Jasmine. “Oh.” Daniel said quickly, “Mom.” “What?” “Nothing.” Jasmine looked from one face to another. “Who is Rachel?” Daniel put down his fork. “We'll talk later.” Vivian tasted it. Not technically a lie. Avoidance. Clever. For about five seconds. Jasmine's voice lowered. “Who is Rachel?” Daniel's father looked uncomfortable now. His mother looked confused. Daniel leaned closer. “Jasmine, not here.” “Who is Rachel?” “She's nobody.” Lie. Vivian sighed. That did it. She had been planning to stay out of this. She truly had. But there were limits to her patience, and Daniel had apparently found one. Vivian lifted her handbag and stood. The tables were close. Perfect. She stepped toward the aisle just as a waiter approached with a tray, shifted sideways to make room, and brushed two fingers lightly against Daniel's shoulder. “Oh, excuse me.” Daniel glanced up. “No problem.” Vivian smiled. She continued walking. Behind her, Jasmine said: “Who is Rachel?” Daniel answered immediately. “My girlfriend.” Vivian stopped. There was a very particular silence that followed a truth nobody wanted. She knew it well. Jasmine whispered, “Your what?” Daniel's face changed. He looked horrified. “My girlfriend.” His mother stared at him. “Daniel.” He clamped his mouth shut. Jasmine leaned forward. “Then what am I?” Daniel shook his head. “Don't ask me that.” “What am I?” He closed his eyes. “My assistant.” Jasmine looked as if he had slapped her. His father said, “What is going on?” Daniel tried to stand. Jasmine's voice sharpened. “Sit down.” He sat. Vivian, several steps away, pretended to examine a framed painting on the wall. Jasmine asked, “Do your parents know we've been together for fourteen months?” “No.” “Do they know I sleep at your apartment four nights a week?” “No.” “Do they know I have a key?” “No.” His mother put down her napkin. “Daniel, what are you talking about?” Daniel looked wildly around the table. “I don't know why I'm saying this.” Jasmine stared at him. “Rachel. How long?” “Three years.” His mother whispered, “Oh my God.” Jasmine's face emptied. “Three years.” “Yes.” “And she thinks she's your girlfriend.” “She is.” Jasmine inhaled. “And me?” Daniel swallowed. “You're the woman I've been sleeping with while telling you that Rachel was just someone my parents wanted me to date.” Vivian's eyebrows rose. That was worse than expected. Jasmine asked, “Does Rachel know about me?” “No.” “Does she know you love me?” Daniel's mouth opened. Nothing came out. Interesting. He could stay silent. He could refuse. He simply could not lie. Jasmine understood. “Do you love me?” Daniel whispered, “Yes.” Truth. Vivian tasted nothing. Jasmine's eyes filled. That somehow made it worse. “You love me?” “Yes.” “And you still did this?” “Yes.” “Why?” “Because Rachel fits my family.” Daniel's mother whispered, “Daniel!” He turned toward her helplessly. “You like her. Dad likes her. She knows everybody. She's the right kind of woman for everything.” Jasmine flinched. His father said, “What does that mean?” Daniel looked sick. “It means Jasmine wasn't supposed to become serious.” Jasmine went completely still. Daniel kept talking because panic made fools of people. “It was supposed to be fun.” “Stop.” “I didn't mean—” “Stop talking.” Daniel obeyed. Jasmine stood. Everyone at the table watched her. His mother said, “Jasmine, I am so sorry.” Jasmine looked at her. “Did you really think I was his assistant?” “Yes.” The answer appeared genuine. Jasmine nodded once. Then she looked at Daniel. “You told me they knew.” “I lied.” “You told me your mother asked why I didn't come to Christmas.” “I lied.” “You told me Rachel was practically family but there was nothing romantic between you.” “I lied.” “You told me you were going to tell them tonight that we were moving in together.” “I lied.” Jasmine's breathing broke. Only for half a second. Then she straightened. “No.” Daniel stood. “Jasmine—” “No.” He reached toward her. She stepped back. “Do not touch me.” Daniel stopped. “You don't understand.” “I understand perfectly.” “Please.” “You brought me to dinner with your parents and introduced me as your employee.” “I thought I could explain afterward.” “Explain what?” “That I needed more time.” “How much?” Daniel hesitated. Jasmine stared at him. “How much more time?” “Probably forever.” His father muttered something under his breath. His mother covered her face. Jasmine looked at Daniel for several seconds. Then, very calmly, she picked up her handbag. “I hope Rachel enjoys Christmas.” She walked away. Daniel went after her. Vivian watched them cross the restaurant. She knew the compulsion would hold for another few minutes. Three. Perhaps four. Enough. Daniel caught Jasmine near the entrance. “Please let me explain.” Jasmine turned. “Was I ever going to meet them as your girlfriend?” Daniel tried not to answer. Jasmine waited. “No.” “Were you ever going to leave Rachel?” “No.” “Were you going to move in with me?” “No.” Jasmine's mouth trembled. “Then what were you going to do?” “Keep both of you as long as I could.” That was the truth that broke her. Not visibly. Not yet. Jasmine nodded. “Goodbye, Daniel.” She turned and walked out. Daniel remained standing near the entrance. Vivian felt the familiar shift. The truth window closing. Daniel called after her. “Jasmine, wait! None of that came out right!” Vivian tasted metal. Lie. She smiled faintly. Right on time. II Vivian found Jasmine in the hotel lobby. Again, technically, she had not followed her. The restaurant occupied the ground floor of the Beaumont Hotel, Vivian had a room upstairs, and the elevator happened to require crossing the same lobby where Jasmine now stood alone beneath a chandelier, staring at the doors as though she had forgotten what she was supposed to do next. Vivian approached slowly. “Are you all right?” Jasmine turned. Recognition flickered. “You were in the restaurant.” “Yes.” “At the next table.” “Close enough.” Jasmine looked away. “I must have been loud.” “Not particularly.” “My entire relationship just exploded in front of strangers.” Vivian tilted her head. “I'd say Daniel's relationship exploded. Yours turned out not to exist in the form you were promised.” Jasmine looked at her. “That isn't better.” “No.” Vivian didn't soften it. Jasmine almost laughed. Almost. “Thank you for not saying it is.” “I dislike cheerful lies.” Something in Jasmine's expression changed. Vivian noticed. Jasmine whispered, “I don't understand what happened.” “What do you mean?” “He doesn't talk like that.” “Maybe he finally ran out of room.” “He suddenly answered everything.” “People do strange things under pressure.” Jasmine studied her face. Vivian held the gaze easily. Then Jasmine said: “He loved me.” “Yes.” That answer came too quickly. Jasmine frowned. “How would you know?” Vivian considered the safest version. “The way he answered you.” Jasmine looked toward the elevator. “He loved me and still made me his secret.” “Yes.” “I think that might be worse.” “It usually is.” Jasmine looked at her again. “You've been through this?” “Not exactly.” “Then how do you know?” Vivian smiled faintly. “I've watched people lie for a long time.” The elevator arrived. Jasmine stepped inside. Vivian followed. Neither woman pressed a button. They looked at one another. Then Jasmine laughed weakly. “We're very good at elevators.” Vivian pressed nine. “I'm staying upstairs.” Jasmine nodded. “I was supposed to go home with him.” “Do you want to?” “No.” “Do you have somewhere else to go?” “Yes.” “Do you want to go there?” Jasmine hesitated. “No.” Vivian looked at her. “Then don't.” The elevator began rising. Jasmine stared at the floor numbers. “I feel stupid.” “You aren't.” “I believed everything.” “That doesn't make you stupid.” “He told me his parents knew me.” “I know.” “He told me his mother loved me.” Vivian said nothing. Jasmine's voice broke. “He told me she bought me a Christmas present.” The tears came then. Not dramatically. No sobbing. Just one tear, then another, while Jasmine stared straight ahead as though she were furious at her own face for betraying her. Vivian stepped closer. “Hey.” Jasmine shook her head. “Don't.” Vivian stopped. “I don't cry.” “That seems statistically unlikely.” A laugh escaped through the tears. “I hate you.” “You barely know me.” “Exactly.” Another tear. Vivian opened her arms slightly. Not touching. Offering. Jasmine looked at her. Then she stepped forward. Vivian held her. Jasmine buried her face against Vivian's shoulder and finally cried properly. The elevator continued upward. When the doors opened on nine, Jasmine did not move immediately. Vivian said quietly, “My room is down the hall.” Jasmine stepped back. “That sounds like a proposition.” “It could be.” Jasmine wiped beneath her eyes. “You really pick your moments.” “I could also order coffee and let you sit somewhere that doesn't contain Daniel.” “Coffee?” “Or whiskey.” “Whiskey.” “Excellent.” Jasmine followed her. III Vivian poured two glasses. Jasmine stood by the window overlooking the city. “Do you always have whiskey in your hotel room?” “I travel prepared.” “For disasters?” “For evenings.” Jasmine took the glass. “What's the difference?” “Usually the shoes.” Jasmine laughed. There it was. The first real laugh. Vivian leaned against the desk. Jasmine said, “Were you flirting with me downstairs?” “Yes.” The honesty surprised her. “Even while I was crying?” “Not during the crying.” “Before?” “Yes.” Jasmine stared. “You don't waste time.” “Life does enough of that.” Jasmine took a drink. “And what exactly do you want?” Vivian looked at her. “You already know.” “I want to hear you say it.” Vivian smiled. “You.” Jasmine looked toward the window. “One night?” “If that's what you want.” “And tomorrow?” “Tomorrow you decide what your life looks like without Daniel.” Jasmine turned toward her. “You're not offering to become part of it.” “No.” “That is remarkably cold.” “Would you prefer I lie?” Jasmine considered that. Then she laughed softly. “No.” “Good.” “You really hate lies.” “You have no idea.” Jasmine crossed the room. She stopped close to Vivian. “Have you always liked women?” “Yes.” “Ever been married?” “No.” “Ever wanted to?” Vivian thought about it. “Once.” “What happened?” “She lied.” Jasmine smiled faintly. “Of course she did.” “Yes.” They stood facing one another. Jasmine said, “I've kissed a woman before.” Vivian raised an eyebrow. “That's useful information.” “In college.” “Everyone does interesting things in college.” “I didn't say interesting.” “How was it?” Jasmine smiled. “Interesting.” Vivian laughed. Jasmine looked at her mouth. Then up again. “If I kiss you, I'm not having some emotional breakdown.” “I didn't think you were.” “And I'm not doing it to punish Daniel.” “Good.” “And I'm not suddenly discovering I'm gay because my boyfriend is an idiot.” “Also good.” Jasmine exhaled. “I've wanted to kiss women since I was nineteen.” Vivian's expression softened. “That sounds more relevant.” Jasmine stepped closer. “Much.” She kissed Vivian. Vivian let her set the pace. Slow. Careful. Then less careful. When they separated, Jasmine whispered: “Well.” Vivian smiled. “Interesting?” Jasmine laughed. “Shut up.” Then she kissed her again. IV Morning arrived pale and quiet. Jasmine sat cross-legged near the window wearing Vivian's white shirt, holding coffee while her blue dress hung over a chair. Vivian stood beside the room-service cart in a robe. Jasmine said, “I have to call Rachel.” Vivian looked over. “Daniel's girlfriend?” “Yes.” “You don't have to.” “I know.” “Then why?” “Because nobody told me.” Vivian understood immediately. Jasmine looked into her coffee. “She deserves someone to tell her.” “Yes.” “I don't know what happens after that.” “You don't need to.” Jasmine smiled faintly. “You like uncertainty?” “No.” “Really?” “I like truth. Uncertainty is simply preferable to a convincing lie.” Jasmine absorbed that. Then she looked at Vivian. “Last night was good.” “Yes.” “That confident?” “Yes.” Jasmine laughed. “You're impossible.” “Frequently.” “And this is it.” Vivian sat opposite her. “This is what we agreed.” “I know.” Jasmine nodded. Then she said: “I think I'm okay with that.” Vivian watched her carefully. “Think?” “I'll probably be annoyed with you around lunchtime.” “That's reasonable.” “But tonight?” “Yes?” “I needed someone to hold me when I stopped pretending I was fine.” Vivian's expression changed. Jasmine continued. “And then I needed someone to remind me I was still desirable.” “You made that part easy.” Jasmine smiled. “Flirt.” “Accurate observer.” Jasmine dressed slowly. At the door she turned. “So this is where you disappear.” Vivian leaned against the wall. “Technically, you're disappearing.” “Fine. This is where I disappear.” “Yes.” Jasmine hesitated. “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Why me?” Vivian smiled. “I noticed you before I noticed him.” Jasmine's expression softened. “That is a very good answer.” “It also happens to be true.” Jasmine stepped closer. “One last kiss.” Vivian kissed her. Short. Warm. No promises. When they separated Jasmine said, “I suppose I should thank Daniel.” Vivian looked horrified. “Absolutely not.” Jasmine laughed. “No?” “Never reward incompetence.” “Fair.” The elevator arrived. Jasmine stepped inside. “Goodbye, Vivian.” “Goodbye, Jasmine.” The doors closed. Vivian returned to her room, collected her coffee, and stood beside the window. Somewhere below, Jasmine was preparing to tell another woman a truth she deserved to hear. Vivian liked that. Not every truth destroyed something. Some merely cleared the ground. Her phone vibrated. A message from the hotel concierge. Your car will be ready at eleven. Vivian reached for her handbag. In the corridor outside, a woman's voice drifted through the partly open door. “I told you, darling, I don't know anything about the missing money.” The familiar metallic bitterness appeared at the back of Vivian's tongue. Lie. Vivian closed her eyes. Then smiled. “Of course you don't.”