Naturally, Victor and I got the best seats in the outdoor amphitheater -- upholstered armchairs brought down from the castle, set on level ground under a canopy. There was enough room for Boris and my mother there, too. The guests weren't too badly off. They had chairs and big sun umbrellas if there were no trees to sit under. A lot of Latverian citizens had brought blankets, seats and sunshades -- even picnic baskets, for this performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream.
It began, and I lost all sense of everything else other than the play. Theseus, the Duke of Athens was trying to woo his bride, Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons. He did not have to -- their marriage was a marriage of state -- but he was trying to make it a true marriage. She wasn't too sure about it. Then in came the young lovers Hermia and Lysander, along with her father Egeus, and Demetrius, the young man her father wanted her to marry...
I had to blink when intermission came. A footman brought lemonade, I took a glass, told Victor I wanted to stretch my legs, and went off to see if I could find Reed. However, Janet popped up in front of me.
"Hi", she chirped. "Joviana, can I steal you away for just a moment? I have just got to talk to you."
"Oh -- all right. Is it important?" I asked.
"Absolutely. How do you feel about silk jersey?" she asked.
She wanted to talk clothes, so I went along with her, waving a bee away from my lemonade as I went. "As long as it's a good quality silk. I can't stand that nasty odor that clings to cheap silk knits. It never goes away, and perfume does nothing to cover it." I told her.
She was steering me toward a little stand of trees, somewhat removed from the party. "It will be the best quality silk, I promise." She soothed me. By now, we were under the trees, and she glanced around. My paranoia raised its head.
"Good – we're alone. Remember the other day, when I said you reminded me of a girl I was friends with, years ago?" She asked.
Oh, no. The lemonade turned to bile in my mouth. "Yes -- didn't her mother murder her, or something?"
"I don't know what happened. I only know she disappeared. Well, her mother -- I really always did think she was psychotic -- went to the media claiming you were her missing daughter." Janet looked at me, her eyes frank and wide.
I was not going to give anything away. "The McKenna woman in Pennsylvania? You don't mean she's the same one?" I really should have been an actress.
"Yes." Janet replied, looking searchingly into my eyes. "When I heard that, the first thing I did was take out an old photo album, and I found a picture of us together was taken the summer when we were eleven. When I saw it, I realized that you do look just like Rhonette -- not like she was when she disappeared, overweight and unhappy in everything, but like she did way back when she was just a girl. You already reminded me of her, in terms of personality.
"I was furious. I was convinced you were her, for a while. I remember that story you told us about meeting Victor when you had leukemia, and how he saved her life -- that would've been a lie. I thought you had lied to Sue and Jen, and played me for a fool. I was ready to call up the media myself, and corroborate her story."
"Janet!" I said. "I'm not that girl -- and I have a mother of my own. How could you think --?"
"Oh, it's all right. That was then. The reason I didn't call up the media was that I remembered that she knew my secret identity -- and she didn't tell. I owed it to her -- if you were her -- not tell anyone until I gave you a chance to explain."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't!" I said. My heart was pounding. That had been a very narrow escape, and I didn't even know I had been in danger.
"So am I. Well, over the next few hours, the whole story unfolded. A spokesman for the family -- one of my friend's uncles, along with a lawyer, issued a statement that Ms. McKenna was mentally ill -- probably schizophrenic -- and had been for quite some time. They said she was in a mental hospital for evaluation. Then they issued an apology and a retraction.
"At that point," Janet continued, "I didn't know what to think. My first reaction was 'They were bought off or scared off.' I am sorry, Joviana, but that was what I thought. At that point, you could not have torn me away from that story. I couldn't get through to you. I was thinking all sorts of wild things -- that maybe you were Rhonette, but you believed you were Joviana, that you had been brainwashed and programmed to believe it. Then I remembered Sue had said you weren't, so that was out."
"Certainly not!" I interjected. "What made you change your mind?"
"The things that started coming out next." Janet looked at me meaningfully again. "About what her mother did to her -- the cellar, and the restraining order."
I should've said something, but I didn't know what.
"It got me thinking." Janet said. "Somebody who had that happen to her -- I imagine she would do almost anything to be somebody else, somebody who was loved and valued. And after all, when she went missing, I didn't even investigate -- because I was angry with her. Something she predicted turned out to be true."
She meant that her marriage to Hank turned out to be abusive, and their breakup ugly.
"That was small and mean of me, because she was a good friend, back when we were girls. If she had a chance to reinvent herself -- what I'm trying to say is, I know you're not Rhonette. You are exactly who you say you are -- but if you were Rhonette -- that would be all right with me. I miss her. I'd like to know that she really got the fairy tale -- a castle, and a kingdom, and a knight in shining armor -- even if he isn't anybody else's idea of Prince Charming. I'd want her to be happy, and I'd want her to know she could feel safe."
"If I were Rhonette," I said, carefully, "I would be touched very deeply by that. I think I am, anyway, just in sympathy." I was still holding my lemonade. I took a swallow. It was sweet and delicious. "I wonder what will happen to her mother."
"Oh, after last night, she's been committed." Janet replied.
"Why?" I asked. "What happened last night?"
"They let her leave the hospital for the night, because she was acting normal enough, and her mother -- my friend's grandmother -- didn't want to sign commitment papers. She went home, and burned her house down."
"She what?" It was a good thing I'd swallowed the lemonade, or I would've choked on it. I shoved my shock under and composed myself -- fast.
"She set fire to her house -- deliberately. She wasn't in it, and fortunately, nobody got hurt, but it's just a pile of ashes now." Janet informed me.
There went my proofs -- literally up in smoke. The comic books, the newspaper clippings, the photographs, and everything else. Gone. Ashes. All of it.
"Did any other houses in the area catch fire?" I said, sounding as normal and detached as anyone could.
"No. They couldn't do any thing to stop that house from being consumed, but they were able to confine it to just that house." was Janet's reply.
"I'm glad of that." I said.
A footman came up. "My lady -- they're waiting the next act for you."
"I'll be there directly." I promised him. Turning to Janet, I said, "On another topic -- although maybe I shouldn't jinx it -- have you ever designed any maternity wear?"
"Joviana! Are you telling me you're --?" Janet gasped.
"I only just got married three hours ago!" I protested.
"As if that meant anything." she scoffed. "Are you?"
"I had a period very recently, so I haven't missed any. It might not happen that easily, after all." Actually, it had happened just that easily.
"Well! You're sure giving me something to think about…" We chatted about inconsequential things until she went back to her seat, and I went back to mine, next to Victor.
My mother spotted my thoughtful look immediately. "Joviana? Is something wrong?"
"Nothing at all," I lied. "I just heard the strangest thing, though. Do you remember that odd woman, who was saying I had to be her missing daughter? I said, and it seems I was right, that she had to be mentally ill. She set fire to her house last night."
"Poor woman." Galina shook her head.
The next act began. It was much more difficult for me to lose myself in it this time. I was in a slight state of shock. The house was gone, and with it, more than just my proofs. The cellar was gone, where I had spent three days in my private hell, but so was the living room where my grandmother had put up the Christmas tree, the bed where I could lay at night and see the stars through the window, the kitchen table, where we had made cookies, and the backdoor, through which a little gray and white kitten had walked one day.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I did not let them fall. Galina must not know that anything was wrong. Perhaps Victor saw -- perhaps he did it to help me, or perhaps he simply felt like doing it at that moment -- why, I didn't know, but he slipped his hand out of the gauntlet and reached over to take mine, skin against skin. That simple human touch provided a world of comfort.