The Phantom Diaries Page 10

  Perhaps he just didn’t want to be found. Was he that determined to avoid me? And how long would he keep it up?

  I trudged through the rest of the day. Feeling partly numb, I went through my pre-performance routine with robotic efficiency, but with a complete lack of emotion.

  Roberta was exuberant and merry as she helped me into my costume. “You sure put on a good show, my dear. Everyone loves you.”

  Silently staring at my reflection in the mirror, I nodded, having barely heard what she’d said. Though I couldn’t meet her eyes or look directly at her, I had the distinct impression Roberta was scrutinizing me.

  Was she star struck as well?

  When I finally made it to the stage, I crossed Judy’s path. Though we’d spent so much time rehearsing together these past weeks, we’d barely had time to talk throughout it all.

  Now, though she usually offered me a bright smile, her eyes gazed at me with concern. I wasn’t late for the first scene and couldn’t understand.

  Refusing to dwell on it, I hit center stage for my first song. It seemed to go on forever and I longed to hit that last note and get it over with. And so went the rest of the performance. I felt drained, tired and ready to tear off my dress and go home by the time the curtain fell.

  I crossed Chace as I trudged offstage, warier than when I’d trudged on a few hours earlier. His gaze was a cross between what Roberta and Judy had given me. Concerned, sad, thoughtful and filled with questions. What was wrong with all of them? Was my stardom getting to them? Had I ignored them or acted differently towards them?

  “You okay?” Chace was quick to ask the moment he got within earshot.

  “Sure,” I said. Even as the word came from my lips I could hear the agitation in my voice. My nerves were grated and I feared I wasn’t hiding it too well.

  Chapter 16

  December 18th, 2009

  Dear Diary,

  The day has been sluggish and long. It seems like a veil of melancholy has dropped over my life. The sun is out and it’s a beautiful day, but I just want to stay in bed.

  I refuse to allow myself to believe that this is all because of Eric’s disappearance, but I honestly can’t find another reason. Why does he get to me like this? Aaron has a special getaway planned later this afternoon and it sounds absolutely delightful, yet I can’t seem to feel happy at the prospect. I have Chace who is wonderful and kind, yet my heart doesn’t respond to him as it does to Eric.

  Chace should be here any minute now to take me for an early morning bike ride through the park. I know it’s meant to cheer me up, but I doubt he’ll succeed.

  Everything is in place to make for a wonderful day and I should be happy. I’m the star of one of the biggest shows in town. Everyone is raving about me.

  Why do I feel so miserable?

  Sunny and without the slightest hint of a breeze, the day was perfect for the bike ride Chace had planned. He seemed jovial as we rode side by side while he told me about his week, but I sensed his good mood was for my benefit.

  “Did I tell you that my parents really loved you,” he asked.

  He had. I nodded and smiled.

  “I mean they were absolutely floor by Annette Binoche the performer; that goes without saying. But they were so charmed by Annette the woman, it’s a shame you didn’t have time to come have dinner with us. You know they may be coming back to town. Maybe we could get together then.”

  I nodded again and knew that my response was feeble at best. He deserved more. He deserved better. Here he was doing everything to make me feel better and I could barely utter a decent response.

  “They would love to go to one of those fancy restaurants they often see in the movies, and of course they enjoy seeing their boy at work.” His smile was charming, his eyes earnest.

  A pang gripped my heart as I realized just how hard he was trying. And the more he tried, the more distant I became. I was closing in on myself and while I could see it happening, I seemed unable to do anything to stop it.

  By the time we were to part ways, I wanted to weep for the guilt I felt.

  “I hope I was able to cheer you up a bit,” he said.

  “You did, Chace.” My tone was flat and unconvincing.

  “So you’re off to go shopping with Judy.”

  “Yeah, I’ve hardly had time to have two words with her since getting Adelle and she thought my wardrobe could use a little sprucing up.”

  “Well, you are a part of high society now.”

  I cocked a brow and had to chuckle. High society indeed. If he only knew how I dreaded those fancy affairs. Put me in my jeans any day.

  He leaned in to kiss me. As warm and inviting as his lips were, I couldn’t muster up the strength to kiss him back. I puckered my lips, but the action was cold and emotionless. The pain and questions were barely concealed as he said an awkward goodbye.

  How could I do this to him?

  My shopping spree with Judy didn’t fare much better.

  “How can you be so down in the dumps when you’re supposed to be on top of the world?” She munched on a pretzel she’d bought from a vendor and looked at me as though I were nuts. “I thought having the lead and singing and being the star and getting all the adoration was what you wanted.”

  “I never said that.” I watched the sidewalk pass under my feet as we walked down Fifth Avenue.

  “You didn’t have to. I mean who comes to New York to become obscure. We all come here to see and be seen, to make a mark… or a marquis.” She held her pretzel out to me and I took a bite. “Has fame hit you too soon, too hard?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. It certainly is all happening rather quick. I mean all the public relations that go with it are draining me, but I love the performance part.”

  She glanced at me. “You wouldn’t know it from your performance last night.”

  I stopped walking and turned to look at her. “Was it that bad?”

  “Not bad necessarily, but anyone who saw the performance of the night before could see that you weren’t quite there last night.”

  “Oh my God. I didn’t realize it was so obvious.” As I stared at her I mentally tried to go over the various scenes from the previous night’s show. I could barely recall a song. The show was virtually a blur.

  “Don’t freak out or anything. Stranger things have happened at the Met.”

  “Really?” I said with a doubtful glance.

  “Well, there’ve been five deaths, right there inside the opera house. And a few of them rather suspicious, too.”

  “I don’t believe you. You’re just playing with my head.”

  “Back in the 1890s, a French basso actually had a heart attack, right there on stage in the midst of his performance. He was applauded as he fell over and died.”

  Horrified, I gasped.

  “They carried him offstage, and another singer took his place for the three remaining acts.”

  “You’re making that up.”

  “I swear,” she said, holding her Girl Scout fingers up. “A baritone died of a stroke in the 60s and a stage accident killed someone in the 70s.”

  I stared at her wondering where she was coming up with all this.

  “Then there was the violinist who ended her affair with a stagehand. He didn’t take it too well and he murdered her.”

  Though I laughed at the outrageousness of her stories, somehow I had a sense it was all true.

  “In 1997 there was a tenor who had a heart attack while climbing up the set. He fell to the stage.”

  “So you’re saying I shouldn’t complain?” I chided. “Or are you warning me to watch my back.”

  “Hmmm, might be both.”

  With those unpleasant thoughts in my head and my arms loaded and unable to carry any more bags, I headed home to prepare for Aaron’s arrival. I had just enough time to brush out my hair, put on a fresh sweater and grab my handbag before my buzzer rang.

  He was waiting out front with what looked like a very expensive car.
A Mercedes or BMW, I didn’t really know which, but it screamed money. He looked dapper in casual slacks and chic leather jacket and his smile radiated with confidence.

  “Ready to see what New York has to offer?” he asked as he pulled onto Amsterdam and headed for the Lincoln tunnel. “New York State that is.”

  I leaned back into the cushy leather seat and felt heat radiate from my bottom. Louisiana hardly had a need for cars with heated seats and I was at first perplexed. I passed my hand under me, wondering if I wasn’t the problem. Was I running a fever?

  He glanced sidelong at me and smiled. “Don’t worry; it’s normal. I heated up the seat for you. It’s a bit nippy and I thought you’d like to keep warm.”

  “Oh.”

  Before long we were leaving the busy interstates behind and were cruising through the countryside. Scatterings of snow appeared here and there, but not enough to anticipate a white Christmas. We stopped to buy fruits from a roadside vendor, found a few antique shops to browse through and strolled the streets of the little town we stopped in for a light dinner.

  “I have a friend who might have exactly what’ll take to put a bright smile on your face.”

  Up until now, I thought I’d been smiling plenty.

  As he pulled into the long, winding drive of a quaint country home, he reached for my hand and squeezed it affectionately. “I can see right through you, Annette. Your lips may be smiling, but your eyes are haunted and far away.” He stopped the car and opened the door. “Hopefully, this’ll do the trick and bring that smile to your lovely eyes.”

  I stepped out of the car and was immediately greeted by the cool nose of a large golden retriever. His tail wagged, his eyes glistened with joy and his tongue was quick to lick at my hand.

  “He’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted a dog like this. They’re so absolutely lovable.

  “She.”

  “Huh?”

  “He’s a she; Jeanie.”

  I took the dog’s face in my hands and bent down to rub noses. “Hello, Jeanie.”

  “Aaron, what are you doing out here, you dog?” A tall blond with working boots and soiled dungarees came from around the old clapboard house and headed for Aaron. “No offense.”

  “None taken.” Aaron took the woman in his arms and gave her a great hug. Her long hair was in a haphazard looped up ponytail and her face was bronzed by the sun. She was the epitome of healthy country living.

  “I was talking to Jeanie.”

  “Of course you were.” He chuckled and came around the car to where I stood with Jeanie. “Brenda, I’ve spoken to you about Annette.”

  “Yes.” Her genuine smile was beaming as she reached out to offer me a hearty handshake. “Taking a break from the glare of the city lights?” she aimed at him.

  “You know you miss it,” Aaron teased.

  “Look around you, honey,” she said with a proud tilt of her head as she gestured towards the endless yard that seemed to go on for miles. “I ain’t missing anything out here.”

  “It certainly is lovely,” I said.

  “Finally, someone who appreciates what’s good for you.” She turned to Aaron. “What has you fleeing the city this time?”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and followed her to the back of the house. With Jeanie at my side, I tailed behind them.

  “I have a friend who’s a little down in the dumps and I was hoping to find something here that would cheer her up.”

  “Ah, yes,” she said with a degree of suspicion. “A puppy to lift the spirits.”

  We reached to back patio to find a small enclosure that housed half a dozen mini Jeanies, each one more gorgeous and adorable than the next.

  My eyes lit up and my heart melted. I glimpsed Aaron’s self-satisfied grin from the corner of my eye, but ignored him. Of course I would break in face of such adorable little creatures; who wouldn’t?

  “Can I hold one?” I felt and sounded like a seven year old.

  Jeanie looked up at me with pride and trust. One little fellow in the enclosure stood on his hind legs and clawed the enclosure, begging to get some attention.

  “Sure, they love being held.”

  I scooped up the little guy and cradled him in my arms. His soulful eyes met mine and I knew I was in love.

  “Life in the city has been stressing our mademoiselle from New Orleans and I thought she might need a little company to sooth her frazzled nerves at the end of a hectic day, or night as it were.”

  As delicious as the thought was, I knew I had no place in my life or my apartment for a dog that promised to grow so large. Although I had all the place in my heart for him, it just wouldn’t be fair to raise a puppy under my circumstances. “Aaron, I…”

  “You know how I feel about bringing my dogs into town, Aaron,” Brenda cut it. Apparently she was going to save me the argument. “These dogs need space and a puppy is a lot of hard work and time.” She looked up at me, her eyes telling me what I already knew. “I’m sure you’d love him and do your best to give him a good home, but under the circumstances, I don’t think he’d really grow to be happy.”

  I nodded, but Aaron seemed unwilling to let it go. “I can bring him home with me. I have plenty of space, you could come by to see him whenever you want and I would tend to him when I’m home.”

  “When are you ever home, Aaron?” Brenda asked.

  “And you live too far from me,” I interjected. “I can’t take the time to go to your place very often.”

  “Then why don’t you just move in with me?”

  Brenda threw up her hands and backed away. “I think that’s my cue to go in and get some nice hot tea.”

  I tried to laugh off Aaron’s suggestion, but he wasn’t smiling at all. “It would only be temporary; until you found yourself a larger apartment.”

  “That could take quite a while.”

  “I’m in no hurry.”

  “Aaron.” The puppy wiggled in my arms and I set him down. “Whether the puppy is at your place or mine, I have no time right now to take care of anything other than what I already have going on.”

  His jaw tightened and I could see he was unhappy with my answer. But moving in with him was out of the question.

  December 21st, 2009

  Dear Diary

  I’ve still not heard a word from Eric. Although his note made his feelings clear, I still don’t understand why he’s doing this. How could he have spent so much time with me during my training for the part only to now leave me with no support at all?

  It’s too much to think about, yet I can’t stop thinking. Kristine. Aaron. Rupert. I know they all have a connection with Eric, but I can’t fathom what that connection could be. With Eric only a few years older than I am, what possible connection could he have with the Kristine from a hundred years earlier?

  I must speak to Aaron. Not to discuss this, I doubt he could give me the answers I’m looking for, but to ask to be excused from the show for a few nights.

  “Annette, the show is off and running, and you’re the reason behind that. How can you possibly consider taking a few days off?”

  “I know the timing is bad, but I’m greatly needed back home.”

  “But how will we…?”

  “Caroline can take over. She does a wonderful job of…”

  “People didn’t pay to see your understudy, Annette. They want to see you. They paid hundreds of dollars to see you.”

  “You were ready to whisk me off to Paris,” I accused.

  He had no argument for that one.

  “Look,” I said with a softer tone. “It would only be for a few nights, Aaron, I promise.” We were seated in his office at the Met and I was suddenly feeling suffocated by the dark walls. Why was he being so difficult? “I could take a late flight Saturday night after the show. There’s no show on Sunday, so if I come back for Tuesday afternoon, I’ll have only missed one performance.”

  He nodded but was plainly unhappy with the situation.

  “One
night,” I pleaded.

  “Fine. I’ll advise Tom to prepare Caroline.

  ***

  “Maman,” I cried when I opened the door and rushed into the home I’d grown up in.

  “Chéri,” I heard her call out from the kitchen. She rushed out and I was soon smothered in kisses. “Ah, ma petite coquette. Let me see how New York has changed my little girl.” She grasped by shoulders and held me at arms length for an inspection.

  “Maman,” I lamented. It was the same inspection I’d often received after being sick or coming home from a date.

  “You’re pale and thin.” She pinched my cheeks. “And look at those circles beneath your eyes. What are they doing to you up there, ma belle?”

  “I’m just working a bit too hard, Maman.”

  “Hmmm,” she groaned in disbelief. “Wait ‘til your father sees you. He’s likely to not let you leave New Orleans again.”

  I smiled and sat at the kitchen table. Hot tea was already steaming from an old family teapot and I poured myself a soothing cup.

  “Is your fatigue the only reason for making your way home?”

  She always knew how to get to the heart of the matter. No matter how hard I tried to hide what was going on in my life or in my head, she always knew.

  “You know, when I was younger people used to call me Michelle La Savante?”

  “I know, Maman.” It was almost like a sixth sense. She could pick up on the most minute detail and read a host of emotions in it.

  “Then stop stalling and come right out with it.”

  “I guess meeting new friends in New York has led me to question a lot about where we’re from. I mean, they asked me about my heritage and I wasn’t really sure what to say. And I guess the opera I’m singing has me intrigued about Paris as well.”