Lipstick and Lies by Margit Liesche Page B

you two were fighting over,” Dee interjected. “What was that all about?”
    “Oh, that.” V-V’s gaze flitted to his wife. “I was only trying to save my darling a trip to the beauty shop.”
    “The beauty shop?” Dee looked confused.
    “But I told you, dear,” Kiki said, ignoring her sister and locking gazes with her husband. “I have to go there anyway, to make an appointment. I can take the book myself.”
    V-V reached to smooth the hair near her temple. “But your hair is lovely.”
    Kiki’s smile was forced. “Now, dear, I said I’m going there to schedule a manicure, not a hair appointment, remember? And it’s the manicurist who requested the book.”
    Her husband’s hand lingered on her bangs. She gently removed it. The polish on her already perfectly groomed nails caught the emerald glow of the desk lamp, glimmering in the reflected light.
    “Yes, yes, of course.” V-V raised his hands in resignation. “I only wanted to help.You are so overworked.”
    “My sentiments, exactly,” Dee said.
    A smile beginning in V-V’s eyes moved to his mouth. “To please us all, I will tell you what I shall do instead. First, I shall take Dee for an aperitif and leave you two lovely ladies to have your discussion. Then upon my return in say…” He raised his arm, exposing a gold watch beneath a monogrammed cuff. “In one half-hour, I shall chauffeur you home, personally. Meanwhile, I will call Cook and have her arrange a lovely dinner with fine wine. You will see, tonight we shall have a very relaxed, comfortable evening.”
    V-V’s eyes danced with delight. Kiki sounded suddenly overwrought. “Oh no, not tonight, darling. I simply must stay over. This will be the last night for a while, I promise.”
    I sympathized with Kiki. She had workhorse tendencies. And while V-V’s proposal might be exactly what a doctor would order to soothe her nerves, his domineering delivery had been irksome. More importantly, she had work to do and needed his support. Yet he acted as though he hadn’t heard, bull-headedly insisting on whisking her away.
    Dee took V-V’s side. “Kiki, your husband is right. Tonight you should relax. You look peaked. Take a break,
please
.”
    Kiki turned to her sister. Her look suggested she would tell her where she could stick her nose. But she didn’t. Her eyes softened. “Okay, you win.”
    “Good then.” V-V beamed. “And since the weather is so grand perhaps soon you will even consider remaining at home for an entire day.” He glanced from Kiki to Dee and back again. “Yes, this is a marvelous idea. Dee could pay us a visit and the two of you could take the electric boat out for a cruise on the river. It would be like old times. Remember?”
    V-V’s face was like that of a child getting his first glimpse of the family Christmas tree. Bells went off in my memory. “
Nutcracker and the King of Mice
,” I blurted, startling everyone, including myself. All eyes turned on me. I blushed. “My Gran had an E.T.A. Hoffmann book.
Nutcracker and the King of Mice
. When I was small she liked to read from it at Christmas.”
    “Ahh, beautiful dolls, glittering jewels, marzipan castles in a sparkling woods.” V-V smiled, the lines around his eyes fanning out from the corners.
    I had always liked the tale, especially the part when the Nutcracker, who is about to be killed in a duel with the Mouse King, is saved by Clara, the unexpected heroine. V-V’s succinct summary made the story sound queerly sappy.
    “It’s a festive romp,” I insisted.
    “But Hoffmann enjoyed the irrational and mysterious as well. In fact, many think that Hoffmann’s darker tales enabled him to exercise his imagination to its fullest potential.” V-V smoothed the book in his hand. “This volume of short stories, for example, contains ‘Mademoiselle de Scudéri,’ a personal favorite.”
    Kiki shuddered. He laughed. “My wife finds the tale too gruesome. Still, many consider it one of his greatest works.