At first, shock registered simultaneously on their faces. Then Olivia’s hardened, while Valerie’s filled with pain and disbelief.
“She’s six years old and her name is Denise,” he continued. “Your mother and I have disc—”
“A baby sister?” exclaimed Valerie, wide-eyed. “Daddy, you can’t be serious!” But from the looks on her parents’ faces, she seemed to know that he was very serious. “With who? How did that happen?” Her already saturated eyes suddenly filled with tears. “A little girl? Oh, my God…” Her hand flew to cover her mouth as she searched her parents’ faces.
Reggie opened his mouth to respond, but Olivia interjected. “Well, well. I can’t say that I’m even the least bit surprised.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked out the window. “So, do we happen to have any more siblings we should know about, or is the plan for you to spring them on us every six years or so?” Her tone was sharp as she looked back at her father.
Reginald raised his hand, face full of confusion. “Wait a minute…what the hell is this? You think moving out of the house earned you a ticket to be disrespectful? I am still your father.” His face changed then; he became very matter-of-fact as he pointed a finger in Olivia’s direction. “No more—do you hear me? This stops right now. I’ve had all I’m going to take. Enough of this ridiculous father beseeching daughter for forgiveness. I—am—your—father, damn it! And I will not allow my own child—my firstborn child at that—to insult me like that in my own house! You may not live under this roof anymore, but whenever you come through that front door, you will have respect for your mother and me.” Reginald’s anger boiled. “Whether you like it or not, You will always be my daughter.” The more he’d coddled her, the more she’d pulled away. But no more.
They all watched mutely as his anger spilled over. “All these years I’ve been jumping through hoops to make you happy…Bending over backwards to make a good life for you, to make up for not being here. But obviously none of it’s ever been enough. Hell, maybe I deserve some of this resentment,” he said, spreading his arms wide and then letting them drop. “I don’t know, maybe so…But I do know this: You talk to me like that again, and I promise you, it’ll be the last time you do it under this roof!”
Her dad’s eyes bored into hers. For a moment, she was dumbstruck, and it was all over her face. Reggie was sure she couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to anyone—much less her—with such raw emotion, good or bad.
Tracy watched the pivotal scene. Fighting to control her own emotions, she said, “That brings us to the next reason for this meeting.” She kept her voice calm, ever the conciliator. “I want us—the four of us—to go see a family counselor. I think that…well, that we’ll really need it to help us get through everything that’s happening.”
A hush fell over the room then for what seemed like an eternity. They each tried to gather their thoughts. The creeping minute hand on the marble grandfather clock seemed to echo throughout the room like a freight train, hitting and dismantling the family with every tick.
Valerie’s eyes locked momentarily with her father’s. She couldn’t believe that he actually had another daughter, another child besides them. What did that mean for their family? What was going to happen to their lives now that this other kid existed? Why did this have to happen? Was it really even happening? Did her parents really call them downstairs for this? She thought she heard the telephone ringing off in the distance, but she couldn’t be sure…
Olivia stared unseeingly at the space in front of her. She wasn’t sure how she felt just then or how she wanted to react to all that had been said in the last five minutes. Her mind kept replaying her father’s rant. Obviously, he’d been suppressing those feelings…And Olivia was unsure how to react. What should she say?
Struggling with the urge to cave and lose control, right there in front of them, Tracy felt sick. She heard the invasive ringing of the telephone, but who cared? How did one handle such awful things? Especially when they were happening to your own family? How did one handle finding the love of your life at such a young age, creating two extraordinary new lives out of that love, only to have it all turn into a scene like this? She crossed her arms over her chest and squeezed herself.
Reginald shook his head slowly. He was responsible for all of this. His family needed to go see a shrink—what an accomplishment. At some level, he’d always known that someday he’d have to pay a price for the years of pretending he was single, free, and disengaged.
Beleaguered by remorse, Reginald sank into a nearby lounge chair.
Renee had been a warm body, nothing more, nothing less. Unfortunately, she had become pregnant. And what had he done? He’d allowed Franklin to convince him that he’d be best served by living in make-believe. He created an illusion, and grossly misled her.
Simultaneously, on the other end of his life, he had pretended he was a faithful, hardworking husband and father, a man who deserved the love and respect of his children. He had grossly misled them as well.
By the time the fog of false pretense had lifted, he’d come home to find that his wife had been left to seek solace in the arms of another man, and his little girls were now women that he knew next to nothing about.
In that very moment, the harsh reality of what he had done gripped Reginald. There were at least six lives changed because he’d lost himself in a crazy mist of pretension. And sadly, the mist hadn’t lifted for nearly seven years. This was the result.
Finally, Olivia broke the saturated silence. She was mindful to keep a respectful tone of voice. “I just want to say one thing before I get my purse and leave.” She rose and moved toward the entryway. “I’m so glad that I don’t live here anymore. I couldn’t bear living in such a scandalous mess. Good luck with the new kid…and the counseling.”
“You hold it right there, Olivia.” Tracy rose from her chair. “Just where do you think you’re going? You may not live here with us anymore, but you are still a part of this family and we have to see our way through this ‘scandalous mess,’ as you so caringly put it.”
“How? By going to see a shrink, like we’re all crazy? No, thank you. It would be so embarrassing. I can handle my own problems. I’m not going to some…some psychiatrist, like a nutcase.”
“And just how are you handling this particular problem? By walking out? Pretending that we all don’t matter? Well, I’ve got news for you, young lady, we do matter. We’re your family. I am your mother; I gave birth to you. He’s your father”—she motioned toward Reginald—“he was there. Neither one of you would be here, living and breathing to express yourselves this way, if it weren’t for the two of us.
“We’re not perfect—I’m not suggesting that we ever have been—but if we hadn’t done right by you, neither one of you would be as bright and intelligent as you are. Nor would you be able to think for yourselves as you do now.”
Tracy took a deep breath. “Now, you may be of age and you may live on your own and you may think you’re all grown up, but I’ll tell you both that you’ll never be old enough to have the right to turn your backs on us. We happen to be parents who don’t deserve that from our children. You were raised to be more sensible than that.
“Now, we all just found out that there is another child in the picture. Reggie and I decided that we could work through it. We’ve both made mistakes”—she looked pointedly at Valerie, who quickly looked away—“but we’ve loved each other for a long time, long before either of you came into our lives. But in order to have the best chance at keeping our family together, we need help. There’s nothing wrong with that, nothing to be ashamed of in seeing professional help.”
Olivia shrugged. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not going. I can’t…I just can’t.” She began walking away.
“Olivia!” Tracy’s tone was sharp. Olivia stopped in her tracks and spun around to face her mother. Tears filled Tracy’s eyes, but her words were firm. “If you leave this house and refuse to participate in thi
s—a fight for our family—you’ve turned your back on this family, and basically telling us to go to hell.” Her next words were whispered: “If you do that, stay away. I don’t want to see you in this house again. You won’t be welcomed back—and you certainly won’t get anymore financial help…Not even to buy yourself an aspirin.”
Olivia and Valerie gasped.
Reginald, still feeling broken, looked from Tracy to Olivia, anticipating her response.
Olivia stood frozen. Her mind rejected her mother’s words. Stay away, you won’t be welcomed back? As if this wouldn’t all blow over soon enough. She couldn’t be serious!
But, what if she was?
“Mom, you’re not serious—you can’t mean that!” Olivia stepped back into the room. “Just because I don’t want to go see a shrink?”
Tracy said nothing. She simply dried her cheeks and stared at her daughter. Olivia was well aware that it ran deeper than that—much deeper.
Valerie, still crying herself, watched the scene play out as though it were all just an elaborate dream. This simply couldn’t be happening…why was this happening?
Finally, eyes filling with tears of frustration, Olivia caved. “Fine! I’ll go! But I resent that you’re forcing me into this!” With that, she stormed off toward the staircase.
They were all sitting in silence when she came back down, carrying her purse.
Without a word, Olivia strode out the front door, closing it quietly behind herself.
Chapter 28
Just a few hours after her exhausting confrontation with Roger, Justine opened her front door to Brent Stone. A shard of apprehension shot through her as their eyes collided. What was she doing? She didn’t know this man from Adam! And she hadn’t had sex with anyone but Roger Roman in more than eighteen years. Was she really ready now?
Brent took in her attire, his eyes leisurely sweeping over her. It was obvious—pleasurably so—that she had dressed for the occasion. She was ready. She was ready indeed.
The blue spaghetti-strap dress—if you could call it a dress—ended abruptly, just below her buttocks, grazing her cheeks. It looked as if a light breeze would leave her quite exposed. Brent liked it…He liked it so much, he began growing deliciously hard. He was ready.
“You’re here.” She stepped aside, letting him in. This man had such a presence! His cologne filled her nostrils, intoxicating her, and she smiled. She felt like a schoolgirl, like a virgin again. And her body begged to be deflowered by this impressively virile man. As he took a seat on her sofa, Justine ached for him to take her into his arms that very second. Leaving a polite distance between them, she sat beside him. The rhythmic sounds of her smooth jazz CD elevated her desire.
For a moment they simply stared at each other, both enjoying the high-voltage attraction flowing between them. The circumstances under which they met crept its way into Justine’s mind, but she quickly pushed it away. She wanted this guy, and she didn’t care how she had come to meet him. She could think about that later.
Brent sat studying Justine. He could tell she was ready to be dominated. She didn’t need coaxing or persuasive speeches, as most did. She’d been fucked over long enough and was ready for a good time.
“Would you like a drink?”
He didn’t respond, nor did his eyes leave hers as he slowly moved over her, pushing her onto her back. He kissed her hard then, and Justine felt instant moisture between her legs. Why had she wasted so much time pining for Roger?
Brent slid his tongue into her mouth and parted her thighs, slipping his fingers under the dress. When he discovered her bare and dripping, he lost control. A needy groan escaped him and he quickly got rid of his pants. Justine felt him hard and pulsing as the tip of his penis pierced the lapels of her sex. She closed her eyes and inhaled.
Then he was inside her, riding her, and it was intensely delicious. Between her cries and his groans, they drowned out the saxophones and pianos coming from the speakers.
•
When it was over and they had drifted from their high, they had to laugh at the picture they made on the sofa. She, spread-eagle, her blue mini rolled up under her arms, and he, crammed into her and bottomless, still wearing his silk shirt, which was now damp with sweat.
Much later, they lay entwined, sipping Moet as the music played, and they talked. Brent admitted his immediate attraction to her and how he’d dubbed her “the beautiful mystery woman.” Though Justine was flattered, she was protective of her own thoughts. Roger had known her heart and soul through and through, and it had done more harm than good for their marriage. She would not wear her feelings on her sleeve for any other man, even the irresistible Brent Stone.
“So, what’s the story with your friend Tracy?”
“Hmm?” Justine was deliciously sated. Her yearning body had been more than satisfied. She was feeling bliss, pure bliss.
“Tracy Brooks. Is she leaving her husband?” Brent gently stroked her gorgeous hair.
“No, I don’t think so. They’re in a rough place right now. But I do know that they love each other very much. I just hope they can work it out.”
“And you? Are you leaving your husband?” Brent’s hand stilled. “Because I’d hate to have an affair with a married woman.”
She smiled against his chest before saying, “So does that mean you plan to do this again?”
His expression was serious. “Oh, hell yes. There’s something about you that seems to draw me in…Remember the moth and the flame?” His eyes hinted that the attraction was more than sexual.
She told him about her visit with Roger earlier that day. After having a look at the glossy photos that featured none other than Roger Roman himself, Roger had agreed to pay her off instead of fighting her in court. When all was said and done, Justine would never have to work a day in her life…Befitting compensation under the circumstances.
Now as she lay in the arms of this extremely attractive and available man, Justine relaxed for the first time in years. She knew with absolute certainty that she could survive without Roger, that she could be happy without him. And she no longer needed to rely on anything for reassurance.
Making love with Brent was the beginning—the beginning of the rest of her life. Goodbye, Roger Roman.
Chapter 29
As Thanksgiving Day approached, Tracy busied herself helping her mother make arrangements for their yearly feast. Each year they alternated between her parents’ house and Reginald’s.
She and Reggie had agreed to hold off on their therapy plans until after Thanksgiving. Tracy wondered if that had been such a good idea. The situation in the house had become even more strained an unbearable.
Several weeks had passed since the memorable family meeting, and Olivia had been scarce. Tracy only got a glimpse of her on the few occasions she came to take Valerie out. Olivia would drive up, blow the horn, and wait for her sister to rush out to the car.
It was tearing Tracy apart.
She missed her. Their relationship had always been such a close one. But Tracy did not regret giving her the ultimatum. Olivia had given her no choice. The time had come for Olivia to brush that ridiculous chip off her shoulder. After all, her father had provided her with all she ever wanted or needed her entire life. Hell, did she forget where the money had come from to buy that town house? Olivia’s job would never pay the rent.
Yes, the time had come to take a stand, show her what really mattered in life. Even so, Tracy had no idea what she would’ve done had Olivia called her bluff. She didn’t even want to think about the possibility.
Valerie, on the other hand, had begun spending much more time with them, with her mother in particular. When Tracy was cooking dinner in the kitchen, Valerie was usually there, offering to help. Whenever she was going out to run errands or grocery shop, Valerie wanted to accompany her. In her heart, Tracy loved the change in Valerie. Still, she couldn’t help wondering what sparked the sudden attentiveness…Was it because of the news about Denise? Perhaps Val
erie, too, sensed the need for togetherness at this pivotal time in their lives.
Reginald, as expected, had been going the extra mile to bring them closer together. Never had he been more determined or more sincere in his efforts. And the more effort he put forth, the further away it seemed to push Tracy.
Even though he had no way of knowing, Franklin hovered between them like an air pocket. Each time Reginald surprised her with a special gift, or caressed her in their bed at night and whispered tender words in her ear as they made love, she was haunted by her secret. She was suddenly unable to get it out of her mind, and she feared she never would. And what was worse? Nowadays, Frank seemed to be around constantly, and he had a serious attitude problem. Even Reginald had commented on it.
Frank made efforts to get her alone on several occasions, but Tracy refused. What was there to talk about? Her conscience was eating her alive as it was. She found herself wishing now that he would just disappear from their lives all together…And she sensed that Frank was very much aware of her discomfort.
Tracy knew that eventually, she would have to find some way to put the guilt behind her. She wished she had someone to talk to about it, but whom? Shame kept her from revealing such a thing to anyone…
It was funny how different things were now. When Reginald was away, she had taken great pleasure in her affair with Frank; now that he had come home to her and confessed wrongdoing of his own, she felt like she should be burned at the stake for what she’d done.
One thing was for sure: Confession was out of the question.
Or was it?
•
The day before Thanksgiving, Tracy was sitting at her vanity table, blow-drying her hair, when Reginald entered their bedroom with a long white jewelry box. Tracy felt the familiar cringe at the sight of yet another gift. God, he was doing so much. And though she loved him for it, it was only making things worst. The shame was festering…a vengeful monster within her.
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