Jerry looked over Stefanie's head at Andrea, and she saw at once the desperation on his face, and in a moment that reminded her of times past when they often connected on a higher plane, she knew he was thinking the same as she.
We won't tell them yet. Tomorrow's soon enough.
She nodded in agreement, and Jerry relaxed and poked the little boys in the bellies, then hoisted Sammie up to sit on his shoulders, calling her his littlest princess. Sammie giggled and wrapped her arms around his head and laughed in childish glee as Jerry galloped off.
Dinner was a noisy, jovial affair. Toddlers sat propped around the dining table in high chairs, and the girls chatted across the table and around their husbands in order to be heard. The room was filled with joking and laughter, and Andrea realized this was probably the last time the whole family would be together. She caught Jerry looking down the length of the table at her. He clearly shared her thoughts. Then she remembered how it was when the girls were not around, and all the reasons for going their separate ways came back.
Jerry seemed to catch her thoughts, or maybe responded to the expression on her face, because that steely-eyed look that set her on edge came back, and she was again counting the hours until he'd be gone.
After they finished dinner, Megan tapped her knife against her glass, then pushed her chair back and stood. "Mom, Dad, we have some pre-wedding anniversary toasts to make."
Andrea forced a smile that felt as feigned as it was, and waited. She refused to look at Jerry this time. Their days of silently exchanging thoughts were over.
When everyone was quiet, Megan said, "I'll start with you, Daddy." She dipped her water goblet toward Jerry. "I'm speaking for the three of us when I say you were our hero when we were growing up. You gave us love, and understanding, and direction, and we know every day that you went to work it was so you could give us the things you never had when you were growing up. But you've given us so much more than this beautiful home with our girly bedrooms, and music and dance lessons, and private schools, and all the comforts you could possibly provide to make our lives good. You gave us love." She blinked back happy tears and said to Stefanie, "You're on."
Stefanie raised her cumbersome bulk from the table, dipped her glass first to Andrea at one end of the table, then to Jerry at the opposite end, and said to Jerry, "But it's the love you gave Mom over the years that showed us how to find the right husbands. The three of us managed to find three wonderful guys who have a little of you in each of them because you were the standard from which we chose our mates." She turned to Andrea and continued. "And Mom, you showed us how to nurture and love, and how to be patient and understanding when we were in high drama, as girls will be. You were also our mentor, and I hope you see a little of yourself in us when you see us with our children because you're the model we're using in raising them." She looked across the table at Bailey, and said, "You're on now, Bail."
Bailey stood, tipped her goblet to each of them, and said, "Dad, maybe you could stand behind Mom for the rest of this. Having you at opposite ends of the table won't work."
Andrea looked down the length of the table at Jerry, who shrugged, left his place and walked over to stand behind her, hands on the back of the chair, careful not to touch her, she noted.
Bailey looked at them soberly, and continued, "But the two of you also showed us how to hold things together in the face of tragedy. I can't imagine how it would be to lose a child now that I have my own, but you lost Scott, yet, you've managed to keep your marriage together when many marriages fail after the death of a child. We all love you, Mom and Dad. And now we've come to the crux of this little spiel."
She opened an envelope and pulled out a travel folder. "We have something to show you both how much we love you, and to give you a second honeymoon. This year you won't be joining us at the lake house, though I know you'll miss all the diapers and confusion and squalling babies. Instead, we've all chipped in and we're giving you a ten-day cruise to the Bahamas. The ship leaves from here in two days, and by the end of the week you'll be sunning yourselves on sandy beaches and strolling hand-in-hand through quaint villages. Most of all, we want you to have time with each other to share your twenty-fifth anniversary, alone. But when we meet the boat when it returns, we'll be watching for a couple of middle-aged lovebirds to come walking down the gangway."
For the moment, Andrea was too stunned to speak. Then it all came rushing over her like a tidal wave. Ten days alone with Jerry. Alone in a stateroom to share a bed with the man she least wanted there, and to celebrate an anniversary she dreaded. But there was no way she could disappoint the girls.
"Mom?" Bailey said. "Are you all right?"
Andrea realized she'd pressed her fingers to her temples. "Oh, yes. I'm fine." She blinked to hold back tears of desperation and guilt. Desperation that she'd be trapped with Jerry for ten miserable days, and guilt for being mad at her daughters for putting them in this position. But she also felt wretched because she had the three most wonderful daughters in the world, who thought they were giving their parents the ultimate gift for their anniversary, and she felt like tearing up the tickets and throwing the pieces away.
Jerry touched her shoulders lightly, and said to the girls, "I think your mom's just overwhelmed."
"It's okay, Mom. We understand." Bailey picked up a sealed envelope that had been sitting on the table in front of her. Her face sobered as she said, "We also know what would have been Scott's eighteenth birthday will come during the cruise, which will be hard for the two of you, so we want you to open this envelope that day and read the letters inside. It's sort of an eighteenth birthday gift to Scott from his three big sisters." She handed the envelope to Andrea, who looked at it anxiously before glancing at Jerry, who held her gaze, face hard, eyes reproving.
She knew that look, the look that said, he'd still be here if you'd stopped him that night.
Jerry stepped from behind her, opened his arms to the girls, and said, "Come here my three precious princesses." The girls left their places at the table and rushed into Jerry's arms. And Andrea knew there was no way on God's earth she and Jerry could disappoint their daughters. But once aboard the ship, she and Jerry would go their separate ways, a natural transition to their new and separate lives.
Alone in their bedroom that night, Andrea said to Jerry while sorting through the clothes she'd be taking, "The first thing I plan to do when we board the ship is to see about getting a second stateroom. Since the girls are leaving for the lake tomorrow, they won't be around to see us off, so we can board the ship as singles. That way we won't have to look at each other, or talk to each other, or even acknowledge each other's existence."
"My thoughts exactly," Jerry replied.
Odd how they were finally agreeing for the first time in months, Andrea thought, but it was easy now that the end was in sight.
From the walk-in closet, Andrea retrieved a green and tan sundress that had been there for some time, and standing in front of the mirror, she held it against herself. It was a low-cut dress with built-in support that created a deep cleavage, a dress that used to drive Jerry to distraction, and whenever she wore it, the night always ended with a hot and heavy session in bed. She glanced up to find Jerry watching. "Don't worry," she said. "If I bring it along I won't be wearing it for you."
Jerry let out a short ironic huff. "Wear anything you damn well please as far as I'm concerned. Just keep in mind that if you strut your stuff like you were once a master at doing, you'll be expected to put out, which you've long since forgotten how to do."
Andrea let out a cynical laugh. "With the right man, my memory might return." She pulled open one of the built-in drawers in the walk-in closet and rummaged through the lacy bra and panty sets Jerry bought for her on various occasions over the years, and which had been folded, nearly untouched, for the past two years. Removing the entire stack, she set it on the bed. Lifting a black half-bra with peek-a-boo lace, she draped it across the front of her. Peering into the
mirror at Jerry's reflection, she said in a tone intended to aggravate him, "After four kids it's probably too small, but I'll take it along with the rest. I might find an occasion to wear it."
Although she couldn't imagine wearing any of the skimpy things now, she'd pack them if only to make Jerry wonder, and who knows, maybe she'd take a lover. The idea might be worth considering, now that she and Jerry would be going their separate ways. She needed a little spice in her life, maybe a hot session in bed with a man who might turn her on again. She barely remembered what that was like. But when she turned to pack the lingerie into her bag, she saw that Jerry had his own plans for the cruise.
In his oversized tote lay the assortment of briefs she'd given him over the years, skimpy briefs covered in cupids, and a pair with a target on front and words written across the waistband that read: I'm cocked and ready, and an especially skimpy pair covered in bright red hearts. She remembered the 'Jerry Porter Style Show' he'd performed after the kids were tucked in bed, the night of the red-heart briefs. With a rose clamped between his teeth, plucked from the bouquet he'd brought her, Jerry strutted his stuff across the room, bumping and grinding while humming The Stripper. Then he inched off the briefs in a great display of teasing and taunting, and twirled them around the tip of his finger while swaggering back and forth across the room. She'd been near hysterical with laughter, then overwhelmed with passion.
That was the same night she conceived Scott. She'd suffered from terrible morning sickness with him, and after he was born their life changed. Jerry had not worn the briefs since, but after years of being packed away, he clearly planned to wear them again, but not for her.
Yes, she decided, she would seriously consider taking a lover.
CHAPTER 3
Three days later, while standing in the doorway to their stateroom on the cruise ship, Andrea stared at a king-size bed draped with a white bedspread with red hearts on it, and a red heart-shaped throw pillow propped between the bed pillows. Across the bed lay a fresh red rose tied with a satin bow, a vivid reminder of the night of the red-heart briefs and Jerry's performance.
She glanced at Jerry and knew he was envisioning the same scene. From his expression, he was as humiliated with his behavior back then as she was embarrassed by hers, but now the distressing episode was eclipsed by the knowledge that they had created a son that night who had, little by little, torn them apart. Scott was the son they tried just one more time to have, yet each failed attempt created a daughter who would bring them nothing but joy. And still, they wanted a son. But when Scott finally came to them, they were at a loss what to do with him.
She turned her attention to the glass-enclosed shower for two and the sliding mirrored doors on a closet facing the glass enclosure, and almost laughed out loud at the irony. The girls had reserved the honeymoon suite! She again focused on the bed. "You can't stay here. You need to see about getting another room. The girls will never know."
Jerry walked up to the shower and opened the door. "That's your problem so you find another room. You can put it on my tab. It's worth it for ten days of peace and quiet. Besides, you won't need a shower for two given your aversion to sex."
Andrea eyed his firm profile. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I don't have an aversion to sex with a man who appreciates me. I saw any number of attractive men when I came aboard who looked interested. One even winked and smiled."
"Sure. Gigolos are waiting to get in bed with a naïve woman like you and play you for all you're worth. You're a prime target."
"Maybe from your perspective, but did it ever occur to you that some men might find me attractive, even if I am in my mid-forties?"
"Yeah well they'll find you attractive until they hop into bed with you, then they'll wonder what they're doing there when you turn your back to them and curl up in a ball and pretend to be sleeping."
"I've heard enough remarks for one day."
Before Andrea could storm out of the room, Jerry yanked off his wedding ring, grabbed her hand, and said, "Here, do whatever you want with this. I won't be needing it."
Andrea stared at the ring in her hand. For almost twenty-five years it had never left Jerry's finger, just as the ring he'd given her had never left hers. But he was right. For all practical purposes the marriage was over, so the rings had to go. She dropped Jerry's ring in her handbag, along with her own, and stalked out of the stateroom, slamming the door behind.
As she marched down the corridor in long angry strides, a steward approached her and said, "Madam is there something wrong?"
Andrea glanced back at the closed door to their stateroom. "Yes. Would it be possible for me to get other quarters? I've been booked into the Honeymoon Suite with a man I do not wish to be with. Do you understand?"
The man looked at her with a blend of curiosity and compassion. "Yes, Madam. I'll see what I can do, but it is my understanding that the staterooms are all booked. Would you be willing to share one if it can be arranged?"
"I'll do anything to get out of staying in a room with the man I came with."
"Very well, Madam. If you'll come with me."
Andrea followed the man down the long passageway, up a flight of stairs, and down another long passageway to a small sitting area with a row of chairs, where he motioned for her to wait. He disappeared behind the closed door to an office, and after a long period of time, appeared in the doorway and announced, "I've found a stateroom for you with a woman whose traveling companion was unable to come at the last minute. She's willing to share the room with you and divide the cost. It's a spacious stateroom with twin beds. If you'll follow me, it's just down the passageway from the honeymoon suite. I hope you will enjoy your cruise."
"I'm certain I will, now." Andrea followed the man into the nicely-appointed stateroom, where he gave her the key and left to collect her bags. She had no idea what to expect of her roommate, but from the look of the sexy lingerie hanging in the closet, it was obvious what the woman had in mind for the cruise.
Andrea had just finished unpacking her bags and was in the process of hanging her dinner dresses in the wardrobe when a stunning-looking woman, who appeared to be in her early twenties, walked into the room. From the top of her chic honey-brown hair, to the tips of her Italian stiletto heels, the woman was pure class. Why she was willing to share her stateroom and split the cost was a puzzle.
After exchanging names, the woman expanded on that by saying, "I go by Valerie when the name suits the occasion, but most of the time I'm just Val." She stripped off her white linen designer blouse to reveal a scant lace bra, filled to capacity with the help of silicone implants, and said, "So, you're recently divorced and looking for a little excitement and romance at sea."
Andrea stared at the woman, surprised at her insight. "What makes you think I'm recently divorced?" she asked.
Val let out a little snicker. "The groove around your ring finger. Looks like you just took off your ring." She unzipped her skirt and it slid down her long shapely legs.
"Actually, you're mostly right." Andrea looked at her bare finger where a ring had been for two days short of twenty-five years. Her hand looked oddly... naked.
Val wiggled into a pair of very short shorts. "Your first?"
"My first what?"
"Divorce." Val tugged a tank top over her head. "Was he your first husband?"
"Well, yes," Andrea replied, unprepared to answer questions so soon on the cruise. She'd barely removed her ring and the idea of joining the singles scene had not yet settled in.
Val fluffed her hair in front of the mirror. "How many years?"
"Just short of twenty-five."
"What did he do? Screw around with another woman?"
Andrea felt a little ripple of remorse. She knew Jerry had never fooled around, and it was the same with her. Faithfulness had been the one given in their crumbling marriage. "He didn't see other women while we were married, but now he might."
"Honey, he's a free man. Trust me. He already has.
But there's no point hanging onto the past. Let's go on deck and check out the crop before it's picked over."
"I assume you mean men," Andrea said, then felt dense for voicing the obvious, but the single scene was still new to her.
"Of course I mean men." Val glanced over at her. "Change into something upscale and revealing and meet me out there. I'll claim a couple of deck chairs for us." She smoothed her hands down the front of her tank top while peering into the mirror, and Andrea wondered what it would be like to have a body like that. In earlier years Jerry appreciated hers, but after four kids, silver stretch marks crossed her belly, her breasts were not as high and firm, and it had been years since she'd paraded nude in front of Jerry. Her display in the shower had been an impulse she couldn't explain, other than to flaunt for Jerry what he'd never again have. It dawned on her later that what Jerry saw he no longer wanted, so the brief episode had been pointless.
After changing into a pair of white slacks and a tee shirt with a gold and multicolored dragon across the front, Andrea put on a pair of white sandals, grabbed her sunglasses and her Frommer's Guide to the Bahamas that the girls had given them, and headed for the deck. She found Val reclined in a lounge chair, her parlor-bronzed legs stretched out for all male eyes to appreciate, and sunglasses covering her eyes so she could check out 'the crop' unnoticed.
Andrea settled in the lounge chair beside her, opened her Frommer's Guide, and started reading about the places the cruise would be taking them. Oddly, she began to have a kind of bizarre sense of excitement to snorkel in turquoise waters, and stroll on pristine beaches, and eat conch chowder. But there was also a downside. Don't walk alone at night, it advised, and never accept a package from a stranger with instructions to deliver it to someone on the island. Purse snatching was common, the book warned, and drug smuggling rampant.
She had just finished reading about a zoological garden in Nassau where trained pink flamingos marched on command, when Val nudged her, and said while pointing, "That older guy over there in the Hawaiian shirt. He's one hot hunk, and he's available."
Coming To Terms Page 2