THE GREAT PRETENDER

by Millenia Black

  •

  Forty-five minutes later, Brent rose and went to the window of his fifth-floor office. He watched the woman exit the building.

  She had politely asked several questions and appeared to take the news rather well, but then her eyes had been hidden behind dark sunglasses, which she had never removed. After writing a check to satisfy her final payment, the woman had informed Brent that she may need to retain his services again in the future. Then she had quietly left his office.

  Her demeanor had given away nothing, yet Brent sensed that she was wounded. He wished she had removed the sunglasses. Perhaps he would have learned more about her if he could’ve looked into her eyes.

  Brent ran his fingers through his blue-black hair. Sighing, he returned to his desk. No client had intrigued him quite like this one, after only one meeting.

  Maybe it was the tone of her voice or the rigidness of her shoulders, but something…something about her kept her on Brent Stone’s mind long after she had gone.

  •

  Her Mercedes cruised along I-95 as she reached for her gold cigarette case. She swore when she discovered that it was empty. Just when she needed a drag the most, the damn case was empty!

  Exiting the interstate prematurely, she drove east to Bal Harbor. After purchasing a package of Virginia Slims and taking the much-needed first drag of her cigarette, she walked along the boulevard, window-shopping the boutiques that she had come to know and love. As she moved along, she was stopped by a number of acquaintances, and she offered polite greetings. By the time she reached a small outdoor café, she was much more relaxed than when she’d left Brent Stone’s office.

  He was fucking half the United States! And he had his whores scattered all over the damn globe! The pictures had come as a shock. To see him, actually see him, together with so many different women turned her stomach.

  She had questioned Stone extensively about the women, and as a result, she had extremely useful information about each and every one of his little sluts—and she intended to make use of every bit of it.

  When a waiter came, she ordered a cappuccino and sipped it as she mourned the loss of the last eighteen years of her life. She hadn’t needed any black-and-white pictures to tell her what was going on. She’d known. The photos only served as tangible proof of the infidelities, proof that could never be denied, proof that told the truth and nothing but the truth.

  Tears came…despite her resolve not to get emotional. Removing her dark shades, she swiped them quickly with a napkin. She actually felt her heart muscles constrict as she sat there under the table’s large yellow umbrella, sipping from her cup.

  She needed help. If she was going to go through with her plans, she would have to get some more help. Slipping her cell phone from her silk purse, she placed an important call.

  Chapter 6

  Orlando, Florida

  1 Week Later

  “Mom, guess what? Reggie and I are getting married.” Renee held her breath, waiting for the reaction. She’d called her mother just to give her the news, but they ended up talking for almost an hour before she got the nerve to bring up Reginald.

  Seconds passed. She heard nothing. “Mom? You are still there, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m here…And I heard what you said.”

  “So?” Renee clutched the cordless phone and got off the kitchen chair, preparing for the argument.

  “Honey, what do you want me to say? Congratulations? Well, I’m sorry, but you won’t ever hear that from me.” Beatrice Jameson’s tone was cross. “And don’t even think of inviting me to the wedding—if there is a wedding.”

  “Why not? What is so wrong with Reginald? We’ve had this discussion many times, and you have yet to tell me why you hate him so much! I’m sick of it! It’s time you got over it, Mom!” Renee began pacing back and forth on the tiled kitchen floor. She needed to vent her frustrations. What kind of wedding day will it be without my mother?

  Bea sighed. “Renee, you’re wrong. I don’t hate Reginald. I’m tired of repeating myself. I just don’t think he can be trusted.”

  “Why? Why can’t he be trusted? You won’t even get to know him! You won’t give him a chance. In all the years I’ve been with him, you hardly ever want him around, and it shows. You’re not exactly subtle about your feelings, are you?”

  “Well, that’s probably because he’s hardly ever around to begin with,” Bea shot back.

  As intended, her point hit home with Renee. It hurt. That was indeed her sore spot—Reginald’s two weeks in Miami. She wandered dejectedly into the living room and sat on the peach-colored loveseat.

  “His job takes him away, and you know that.” Renee calmed herself down. She tried another strategy. “Do Denise and I want for anything? Do you? Let’s not forget that if it weren’t for my untrustworthy man, you wouldn’t be getting your hair and nails done once a week, you wouldn’t be eating food in fine restaurants, and you certainly wouldn’t be driving around town in a brand new Lincoln!”

  “How dare you throw what you do for me into my face? Don’t. You. Dare. I’ll do without before I allow you to throw your help into my face, Renee!”

  “I’m sorry, Mom.” Renee knew she had gone too far. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again…It’s just that I love this man, and it seems like you hate him. How could I possibly be happy without you at my wedding? What kind of day would that be for me? I mean, to know that you’re alive and well, but you’re not at the wedding…I think it would be one of the worst days of my life instead of one of the happiest.”

  Bea sighed again. “I’m so sorry, Renee, but I want to see you happy, and that is why I can’t agree with this.” After a long silence, Bea said, “Renee, dear, I think you chose the wrong one…I really do. How can you trust a man who lives in two places?”

  “What are you talking about, ‘lives in two places’? Reggie lives here. He moved from Miami to live with me before Denise was even born. You know that.”

  “Is that right?” said Bea ruefully. “Come on, Renee…Benjamin and I didn’t raise you or your brother and sister to be fools.”

  Panicked, Renee sat up in the loveseat. “What is that supposed to mean? Do you know something that I don't?”

  “No, but I think I can make sense out of nonsense a little better than you can.”

  “Oh, Mom, just get to the point! What are you trying to say here?”

  “I’m trying to say that Reginald spends just as much time in Miami as he does here in Orlando, dear.” Bea paused to let her words sink in. “I mean, what makes you think that Reginald didn’t leave some old flame in Miami? You can’t honestly tell me that the possibility has never crossed your mind.”

  Renee closed her eyes. Oh, yes. The possibility had crossed her mind more times than she cared to admit.

  “And how come,” Bea continued, “after six years he is just getting around to asking you to marry him? Recently divorced, maybe? Come on, Renee, surely you can understand why I’m doubtful about this man. Whenever he comes around, he’s hardly ever able to look me in the eye. He always seems preoccupied and unsettled. Never really seems to fit in with the rest of us, never goes out of his way to get close to us.”

  “All right, enough. Reginald loves me. We are happy. He doesn’t have anyone in Miami—trust me, okay? Mom, can’t you just be happy for me?” Drawing her knees up under her chin, she wiped away the tears on her face. “I can’t be happy if you’re against this. Please, I’m begging you to try to get over this suspicion you have where he’s concerned.

  “When I got pregnant with Denise, he stood by my side. I know it was unexpected, but Reggie didn’t dump me or start sending me checks from Miami like you all said he would, remember? No, he bought us a place, and he moved five hundred miles to be with us. Now Denise has just turned six, and we’re still together. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.” Renee waited, but Bea said nothing. “Mother, please…say something.”

  “All right, honey…because yo
u’ll always be my baby and I love you, I will come to the wedding. I will try to be happy for you.” After a few moments, Bea added, “I just want you to be happy, Renee. That’s all…I just want to see you happy.”

  “I am. Reggie does make me happy. He loves me.” Renee hesitated and said, “Mom, you know what you said before about Reggie not asking me to marry him sooner?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, I have to admit that I’ve always worried about it.”

  “I told you Ben and I didn’t raise fools,” said Bea conceitedly.

  “I thought about it, but I had to believe that one day he would realize that that’s what he wanted. I made sure I never hinted or insinuated at it…And now I’m certain he’s ready to ask me to marry him.”

  “What?” Bea exclaimed. “You mean he hasn’t actually asked you yet?”

  Renee hesitated. She began to twine her shoulder-length hair around her forefinger. “Uh…well…no, he hasn’t exactly asked me yet, but I just know that’s what he wants to talk about when he comes home tomorrow.” Renee braced herself. “When he called this afternoon, he said that when he gets home, we have to talk about something that’s very important to both of us.”

  “And you think it’s gonna be about getting married?” Bea deadpanned.

  “Yes, I do. I really think that this is it.” She paused, then said with a chuckle, “I got the distinct impression that we aren’t going to be ‘living in sin’ for too much longer. Most mothers would be overjoyed at that prospect.”

  “Honey, I’m happy as long as you’re happy,” Bea said. There was a brief silence before she added, “Having said that, I don’t think I’m gonna be happy too much longer.”

  Another lengthy silence. Finally, Renee broke it. “I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m gonna go pick Denise up from Helen’s. It’s getting late.”

  Once she hung up the telephone, Renee left the kitchen and went upstairs to the bathroom. She had to blow her nose and clean up her face before she went to her sister’s house to get Denise. Once in the bathroom, she stood in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection.

  Renee was not a traditionally pretty woman, but she had a body that gave married men plenty of reason to cheat on their wives. It’s what had attracted Reginald in the beginning. She had been working as an attendant at the Mobil gas station on Osceola Parkway and Seventeenth Street, where Reggie stopped for gas regularly when he came to Orlando. When she noticed he was a regular, Renee began flirting with him. She almost fainted the day the unbelievably gorgeous, over-six-feet-tall, broad-shouldered man began to reciprocate her interest. And that’s when it all began.

  He’d told her he lived in Miami and came up to Orlando two or three times a month for business. Renee had just celebrated her twenty-first birthday when she and Reginald began their affair. Seven months later, she was pregnant.

  Now almost eight years after we met, we are finally gonna be married, thought Renee. She continued to gaze in the mirror. She smiled. Finally…and everything will be perfect.

  •

  Still daydreaming about her future with Reginald, Renee turned onto Helen’s block in Springsdale. She’d tried to get her sister to keep Denise until Sunday, but there was no such luck. She’d hoped that she and Reginald could be alone when he got back so they could celebrate their engagement. She envisioned a nice long weekend of lovemaking and lying around in bed, leaving it only for the kitchen or bathroom. She could have asked her mother, but after their last conversation, she decided against that alternative.

  We’ll just have to make the best of it with Denise home, she thought, smiling.

  When she rang the bell, she was surprised to see her eight-year-old niece, Ashley, open the door.

  “Hey, Ashley! What are you doing here? Helen said you were going over to your father’s.” Renee stepped into her sister’s modest home and gave Ashley a kiss.

  “Hi, Aunt Renee. Daddy called and said he couldn’t make it again.” Ashley held her head down.

  “Oh, Ash, cheer up. I’m sure you’ll see him this weekend. Come on now, cheer up!” Renee gave her another big hug. Just as she was releasing Ashley, Denise came running toward them from the direction of the kitchen.

  “Mommy! Mommy!”

  Renee bent and scooped her up. She kissed her briskly on the cheek. “Where’s your auntie Helen, Gumdrop? We gotta get going.”

  “But Auntie Helen just made us dinner, Mommy, and I’m hungry!” Denise whined.

  “Helen, what’d you cook for dinner?” Renee called out, heading toward the kitchen. She found Helen and her fifteen-year-old son, Brian, sitting at the dining table having dinner—baked chicken, mixed vegetables, and white rice. “Hi, Brian! What’s up?”

  “Hi, Auntie Renee. Nothin’ much. Just chilling out,” Brian replied, in a voice that was already giving James Earl Jones a run for his money.

  “Hey,” Helen greeted. “I just baked some chicken. Want some?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said as she put Denise on her feet. “Now I won’t have to rush home to throw something together. I should’ve cooked earlier, but I was feeling lazy.” Going over to the stove, she helped herself to dinner. Ashley and Denise return to their places at the table. Since the table had only four chairs, Renee took a seat on a barstool and ate at the counter.

  When they finished, the kids went into the den to watch The Wizard of Oz. Denise and Ashley loved to see Judy Garland and her friends skip down the Yellow Brick Road. Brian went up to his room to call his friends on three-way—a nightly ritual Helen couldn’t get him to break.

  When they were alone, Renee helped Helen with the dishes. “So, Ashley says Lonny called and cancelled again, huh? What the hell is wrong with that man? Where the hell did you get him? I mean, what kind of father let’s his kid down ninety-nine point nine percent of the time?”

  “Okay. Here we go. You just got here, and already here we go with the blame. Just blame me for everything, Renee. It’s my fault that I have two kids with two different fathers. It’s my fault they’re both deadbeat dads. It’s my fault Ashley’s unhappy. Just blame me for everything,” said Helen, slipping into her martyr act.

  “Come on, Helen. That’s not what I meant! Why do you have to take everything the wrong way? I’m just tired of that poor child having that brokenhearted look on her face every time Lonny brushes her off!”

  “Whatever,” retorted Helen. “It sure sounded like you were implying that this is my fault.” She shoved Renee a handful of soapy silverware for rinsing. She knew she was overreacting, but she felt like being touchy, though she did mind her blood pressure problems by keeping her voice calm.

  “It’s not your fault, but you should at least try talking to Lonny. I mean, doesn’t he even care about how much he’s hurting her?”

  “Did talking to Reginald stop him from going to Miami every month?” Helen fired back. “I mean, doesn’t he care about how much he’s hurting you and Denise?”

  Renee paled. “Why do you have to go there, Helen? Why do you always have to bring up Reggie? What does he have to do with this?”

  She had taken the dig rather hard, and it showed. Helen knew how fragile she was on the subject of Reginald.

  “You never could take a dose of your own medicine, baby sister.” Helen wiped water from the counter.

  “Look, leave Reginald out of this. I’m just trying to help Ashley. I hate seeing her so sad. She’s a kid. She shouldn’t be sad all the time, Helen.” Renee busied herself wiping the kitchen table and cleaning the placemats. She was trying to shift the focus off Reggie and back on Ashley and Lonny. But as usual, when Helen was determined, there was no such luck.

  “Now you think he’s gonna ask you to marry him,” said Helen softly. “Well, I’ll have to see it to believe it.”

  Renee’s jaw fell slack. “The words didn’t even have a chance to leave my mouth before Mom jumped to call you, huh?”

  “Yeah, I got off the phone with her not long before you got here,” said H
elen. “Anyway, I think you’d be a fool to marry a man that lives in two different places,” she said matter-of-factly.

  Renee had had it! She was sick of everyone harping on Reggie’s time in Miami. Why couldn’t they just let it alone? He loved her! Why wasn’t that enough? She wanted to hurt Helen as much as Helen was hurting her. She went for her Achilles’ heel. “At least I will be marrying a man! That’s more than you could ever say, isn’t it?” She watched Helen’s short-lived smugness drain from her face. “That’s it, isn’t it, big sister? Jealousy. You’ve always been jealous of Reggie and me. From day one, you’ve just been pea green with envy. Admit it!”

  Visibly offended, Helen said nothing. She sat in a chair at the dining table and clasped her hands. She tried to remain calm. “My pressure,” she muttered. “I have to mind my blood pressure…”

  Renee took the seat across from her. She didn’t enjoy punching below the belt, but she certainly didn’t enjoy hearing about the flaws in her relationship with Reginald, either. “When I got pregnant, what did you say?” Renee recounted Helen’s words of the past in a baby-like pitch. “‘Oh, he’s gonna leave, Renee. Go have an abortion, Renee. He’s probably married and he’ll just send you money every so often, Renee.’” She smacked the table. “Well, he surprised you then, didn’t he? And you’ve never recovered! Denise and I don’t want for anything. For the past six years, I've been living the good life with a good man and you—just—can’t—stand it. That’s why every single time we have it out, you have to bring up something about Reginald! You’re—just—jealous!” She pounded her fist on the table with each word.

  Helen looked up, tears now standing in her eyes. “Get out. Get your little bastard and get out of my house, Renee. I resent every word you just said to me, and one day you’ll choke on ‘em. Who would be jealous of a woman whose man spends half a month with her and half a month down in Miami with God knows who? And make no mistake: I’d bet the farm that there is somebody else…And it’s probably somebody as dumb as you. You think he goes down there to work, and just sits around, waiting to come back to you? Or sits waiting for you to fly down so you can shack up in a plush hotel room for a night? I don’t think so.”