Standing at the Tiffany display, admiring an elegant wristwatch, her mind drifted to her troubles. By the time they returned home, Brent Stone would have a full report on Renee Jameson—whoever she was. Tracy was no longer sure how she really felt about going through with the investigation. Fear of hurting their reconnection stopped her from questioning Reginald about this woman. But hasn’t that happened already? she thought as she entered FAO Schwarz a few minutes later, remembering to buy a few toys for her nieces and nephews for tomorrow’s visit.
In the past few weeks, there had been a noticeable change in atmosphere. There were unspoken words, heavy silences, concealed emotions, and too many strained exchanges to ignore. Tracy knew there was no way they could reconcile the changes without discussing Renee Jameson. And how could she accuse him when she herself was a traitor as pathetic as Judas himself?
If she tore into Reginald about infidelity, she’d be opening a door. And what if Valerie’s suspicions had become his own? Could she be certain he hadn’t suspected anything, anything at all? Especially after that embarrassing episode with Valerie and Deborah…
Why wouldn’t he have become suspicious?
•
When Tracy finally made her way back to the Plaza, it was in a taxi. After the courteous driver helped her unload her many packages, two bellmen carried them upstairs to the suite. Tipping them well and thanking them graciously, Tracy dropped her purse, shrugged off her coat, and rushed into the bathroom. She was exhausted from walking all afternoon. Her only desire was to take a shower and go the way of her husband, who was still sleeping peacefully in the middle of the large bed.
•
Weston, Florida
Valerie locked Olivia’s front door behind Joe at exactly five seventeen in the morning. He had come over earlier that afternoon to meet Olivia, who had no clue he’d been spending the last three nights in the house with Valerie. He stayed until the wee hours of the morning, setting the alarm on his wristwatch for five a.m. Then he’d wake Valerie up for a quickie before he tiptoed through the house to the front door, walked to the Stop & Shop at the end of the street, started his car, and drove home.
After quietly securing the chain at the top of the door, Valerie hurried to the bathroom to wash up. The intercourse with Joe hadn’t been too painful last night, but this morning it was all she could do to keep from screaming in pain.
She sat on the toilet and spread her legs. Ripping a piece of toilet paper from the roll, she carefully wiped her vagina. The slimy residue of Joe’s semen appeared no different than usual. Slowly, Valerie raised the paper to her nose and sniffed.
Oh, no. Something is definitely wrong with this picture.
A bit panicky, she stepped into the shower and washed herself thoroughly. When she finished, she used her washcloth to wipe and smell herself again. What was wrong?
Don’t tell me I have a yeast infection or something, she thought, getting dressed. Quietly, she left the house and hurried to the corner store at the end of the street.
•
The tall, lanky man behind the counter looked up from his Tom Clancy paperback when a young girl rushed into the well-lit store. He watched as she quickly scanned each isle. Observing her agitated state, he wondered what her story was. He couldn’t help wondering what had caused her to come out to the corner shop at five thirty in the morning, behaving as though she were about to jump out of her skin, her dark, shoulder-length hair pulled into a severe ponytail.
His curiosity was further peaked when she apparently found what she was looking for and rushed up to the counter, clutching two boxes.
•
Fifteen minutes later, Valerie was back on the toilet, following the instructions on the box of Summer’s Eve douche formula. “Oh, God,” she prayed aloud. “Please let this work.”
After a few minutes, she began bleeding. Her heart jumped as a stab of fear shot through her.
Blood.
She was bleeding and she knew it couldn’t be her period. Her skin crawled. Tears of panic sprang to her eyes and she shot from the bathroom like lightening.
Running into Olivia’s room, she shook her sister awake. “Olivia! Wake up. I’m bleeding!”
“Bleeding? Bleeding where?” Olivia’s voice was laced with sleep.
“Down there, Liv. It’s bleeding! What should I do? What’s happening? Why am I bleeding?” Valerie was crying now, and it clearly panicked Olivia.
Throwing off the covers, Olivia reached up and turned on the bedside lamp. “Wait, Val, let me see. When did this start?”
“See? What is there to see? I just told you, I’m bleeding! There’s blood coming out!” After a pause, she said, “It started after I used a douche.” She wiped her cheeks.
“Douche? Why are you douching?”
Valerie covered her face with her hands and said in embarrassment, “I smelt something funny. It had a funny smell, so I went out and got a douche.”
Olivia frowned. “A funny smell? Why would you have a funny smell? Have you been having sex?”
Valerie said nothing, only sobbed into her hands.
“Are you having sex?” pressed Olivia. “Tell me the truth, Valerie.”
“Yes! Okay? Yes! I’ve been having sex with Joe. But he’s it. I’ve never done it before! Oh, God, Liv, please just take me to the hospital! I’m bleeding!”
Olivia became uneasy then, as if she didn’t really know what to think. “What would be causing you to bleed and have a funny odor?” she mused, more to herself than to Valerie. “Okay, what have you done? Are you wearing a pad? Is it heavy bleeding? Like your period?”
Valerie hugged herself so tightly her muscles ached. “I…I put toilet paper…it’s not really that heavy. I just saw spots of blood…And then it wouldn’t stop.”
Olivia motioned toward her bathroom. “Come on, let me give you a maxi, and then I’ll call Dr. Gabriel when the office opens and we’ll go in.”
“Why don’t we just go to the ER? I mean, I’m bleeding!”
“Valerie, look, nine times out of ten, you probably went and caught an STD, so I’m sure it won’t hurt to wait a couple of hours. Besides, we’d probably end up being at the hospital all day long, anyway.”
After she finished in the bathroom, Valerie joined Olivia in the kitchen, where she was making tea. “Liv, I’m scared. What’s wrong with me?”
Olivia shook her head and said, “Did you make him use a condom?”
Just then, Valerie had a moment of déjà vu. Lydia had asked her the very same thing…And she had lied. She wasn’t about to lie now, though.
As Olivia handed her a steaming cup of mint tea, she said, “No. He never used anything.”
•
New York City, New York
A few days after their arrival in New York, Reginald suggested they go for a stroll in Central Park. That morning, they had breakfasted in virtual silence over croissants and eggs. And it was at that time, as he sipped coffee and took in their surroundings, that Reginald decided the madness had gone on long enough. They should be enjoying themselves, shouldn’t they?
Here they were in New York City, sitting in a beautiful and elegant suite with mauve silk on the walls, drinking piping hot French coffee from Italian coffeepots, and behaving like they were strangers. That afternoon, they had gone down to the Plaza’s café for a late lunch that was as strained as breakfast had been. It was absurd. There were no sensible alternatives.
It’s time to tell her the truth.
•
Later, strolling in the park, with its multitude of colors brightening their path, they walked quietly for several minutes before Reginald stopped, suggesting they sit on a nearby bench. Joggers and brisk walkers swept by them as they made their way over to the long seat. They could both feel the troubled energy flowing between them as they sat.
When they’d visited Tracy’s sister, Mervena, they spent the majority of the time in separate areas of the house. Tracy and Mervena had relaxed on the porch, c
atching up on activities and goings-on in each other’s lives, while Reginald had been in the den with Mervena’s husband, Sam.
Now as they sat alongside each other and evening bore down, they lingered in a momentary calm before Reggie worked up the courage to say words he knew would bring the tension to a head.
Shaking off all doubt that there was any other alternative, Reginald faced his wife. “Tracy, I think we both know that a lot of things need to be said between us. There’s obviously a problem, and I’d like to try talking about it so we can deal with it and move on.”
Pulling her collar up around her neck, Tracy half turned to face him. “Reggie, I…don’t really know what to say.”
“Come on, Trace, let’s not do that.”
“Do what?”
“Avoid the problem. Behave as though there’s nothing going on. Obviously, something’s come between us, and it’s time to talk about what it is. Things were going fine when I first got back, and now suddenly there’s…Something’s come between us,” he said, shrugging.
“What?” Tracy asked, raising her shoulders. “What exactly has come between us, Reginald?” Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, “The answer should be obvious…” From the look on her face, it was clear she wanted to take that back.
Reggie remained silent. He only stared at her, forcing her to continue.
“Who is Renee Jameson?” she asked finally, the same apprehensive look on her face.
Reginald’s eyes left hers. He looked out across the park before replying softly, so softly that Tracy strained to hear his deep voice. “As soon as you tell me about the man you’ve been seeing, I think I’d be more than willing to tell you about Renee.”
Tracy’s eyes glazed over. She couldn’t look at him. “You know, it’s a bit of a shock to hear you actually say that. I’ve been afraid that you’ve suspected it all along.” She paused. Then quietly added, “It also hurts to hear you acknowledge that there’s something to tell me about Renee Jameson.” She took a deep breath. “So, you did believe Valerie’s accusations, then?”
Reginald laughed bitterly. “Why do you ask? Was it true?”
Tracy literally swallowed her pride. “Yes,” she replied, forcing herself to make eye contact. “But it’s over now. Can you say the same?”
“Of course I can. Why do you think I’ve been breaking my back to make up for the past ten years? Believe me, I’m well aware that this is my fault.”
“Okay, that’s fair. But why, then, is this woman still calling you?” Tracy asked, tilting her head. “Why did she call you the other day? And more importantly, what did you have to say to her when you called her back?”
He watched as Tracy wiped tears from her face. Can I tell her?
In that moment, Reginald made the choice. He turned on the bench, facing her fully. Parting with his fear, he asked, “Are we agreeing to be brutally honest in this discussion? Because this could make or break us, Tracy.”
Unable to look him in the eye, her gaze fell from his eyes to his mouth.
“Say something…please.”
“What do you want me to say? That it’s okay for you to ruin my life? Our lives? It’s okay to tell me all about this woman? Well, it’s not!” Tracy’s voice rose involuntarily, and a jogger turned to look, but he quickly averted his head. Tracy lowered her voice. “Reggie, this is…this is very hard for me. I’m having a hard time figuring out how we got here. I mean, where did the years go? How did we end up getting involved with other people?” She pulled a Kleenex from her pocket and dried her face, tormented by whatever was going on inside her head.
Spreading his long legs, Reggie rested his elbows on his knees. His heartbeat quickened. He had no idea what was going to happen next, and that scared him to death. “Tracy, believe me when I say I don’t want to hurt you. But I’m beginning to see that I’ve done so much damage to us by hiding my mistakes. So I’ve decided to throw my cards on the table and hope we can work through it. Can you do the same? Because if you can, then it’ll make it a lot easier for me to say what I have to say.”
Tracy stood. She looked at him and trembled. “You’re scaring me.”
Reaching for her hand, he pulled her back to the bench. “You wanna go back to the room and finish this?”
She shook her head vehemently. “No, no. We’ve already established that there have been other people, right?” When he nodded, she continued, “So if the affairs are over, what else could there be?”
Suddenly, Reginald became aware of where they were—Central Park, on a bench, having the most detrimental conversation of their lives. For a moment, he considered staying quiet about Denise. But how can I now?
How could he just go on pretending he didn’t have another child? One who he wanted to care for and help raise? No, it all had to come out now. He had thought the guilt would end completely when he came back home for good, but only now did he realize how wrong he’d been.
Apparently annoyed and frightened by his ominous silence, Tracy rose once again. “Reggie, we’re never going to leave this park if you don’t say what you need to say.” Her demanding tone belied the fear in her eyes. “Just say it. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.”
He looked her directly in the eyes, while his own filled with regret. “There’s more than just Renee, Tracy. There’s also Denise.”
Tracy inhaled sharply. “I suspected that, too, you know. I suspected that there was probably more than one woman.”
Encouraged by fear, he considered twisting the truth, allowing her to believe that Denise was just another woman. However, his next words were forced out by a desperate need to be free of the burdens of the last six years. “Denise is not another woman. She’s my daughter—a child I have with Renee.”
“What?” The question was uttered so quietly, neither of them was quite sure she’d made a sound.
He couldn’t look at her then, so he focused on a sleek white limousine pulling into the Plaza across the street. He saw Tracy in his peripheral view. She was frozen.
“You…you have another child? Another daughter?” Fresh tears pooled into her eyes. She slumped down to the bench. “Denise.”
He turned to face her. Her head was bent, and she appeared to be staring at the leaves beneath her feet. “Tracy, I don’t know what else to say, except it doesn’t change anything for me as far as you and I are concerned. Of course, I want her to be a part of my life, and maybe one day you and the girls can accept her, too, but I would never force the issue.”
Tracy raised her head and looked at Reginald. She saw tears in his eyes, sparkling in the glare of the bright park lights. “How old is this daughter?”
“She’s six,” he said.
Tracy’s eyes closed.
“She’ll be seven in March.”
“Six years, Reginald? You’ve had another child for six years and you never squeaked a word?” After a pause, she said, “Well, why should you have? You weren’t home enough for it to make any difference to us, I guess.”
“Tracy, that’s not fair.” Reginald’s voice hardened. “I’m not the only one that’s guilty here. You were just lucky enough not to get pregnant with your lover’s baby.” Reggie paused, apparently reining in his anger. “God, my blood boils knowing you were in some other man’s bed.”
Franklin’s name rang in Tracy’s head. A bell of shame. Guilt hit her like a ton of bricks then, causing her body to begin wracking with sobs, as though trying to shake off a shameful cloak.
How could she tell him that the other man’s bed was Frank’s? Could she tell him? The shaking intensified as she imagined his reaction.
Reginald resisted an overwhelming urge to reach for her, to comfort her as her body shook. He’d known she would be devastated. “Trace, talk to me. Let it out. We can talk through this. Just tell me what’s going on in your head right now. What’re you thinking? You said before that we could deal with anything, remember? Is that still true?”
Minutes went by and neither spoke. Finally
drying her tears, Tracy rose from the bench and put both hands on her head. “I think we’ve had all the brutal honesty we can stand for one evening, don’t you? I have a headache now. Let’s go back.” She turned toward the street.
“Screw the damn headache!” Reginald practically yelled. The power in his voice brought her to a halt. “This is our life we’re talking about, Tracy! Our lives together. You can’t just get up and walk away now. No. No, we’re not leaving here until we know exactly where we stand!”
“Reggie, lower your voice. People are staring,” she said, returning to the bench.
Dropping his voice slightly, Reggie said, “I don’t care about those people, Tracy. All I care about right now is you and my girls and our family. Our future.”
Tracy looked at him. “All three of your girls?”
“Yes, damn it, all three of them! No, I can’t deny that it was wrong to create this situation, but damn it, Tracy, we either deal with it now or we’ll be calling it quits later.”
“What do you want from me right now, Reggie? I can’t even think straight. What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to say that we can work this out. I love you, Tracy—you know that. I don’t want to lose my wife. You and Olivia and Valerie are my life. I want you to tell me that we can get past all these mistakes—the mistakes that we’ve both made—and start making a better life together. And I want you to mean it.”
Tracy’s conscience urged her to lay her own bad hand on the table. Tell him now. Tell him that it was Franklin.
THE GREAT PRETENDER Page 19