by Lynn Steward
“Wait, wait, wait,” Jack said. “I know she’s upset, and I should have told you. But I’m handling it, okay? It’s going to take some time, but I’ll take care of it.”
Andrew said nothing for a full minute.
“Hello?” Jack said.
“I’m here,” Andrew said, his throat dry. “I love you, Jack, but that’s not good enough. I want to spend my life with you, but I can’t go on until you’re out of the marriage.”
“And I will get out of the marriage. It’s going to take time. I need to break this to her gradually. Hey, it’s my fault. I get it. I should have dealt with this much sooner, but I didn’t. Just give me a little more time. Please, Andrew!”
In his mind’s eye, Andrew could still see Patti, her spirit numb and crushed as she sobbed at her desk, a look of desperation in her eyes.
“Do what you have to do,” Andrew said, his voice barely audible. “You know where to find me.”
“What are you saying?” Jack asked, panic in his voice.
“I’m saying that I can’t see you until things change.”
“You’re overreacting, Andrew! Please don’t. Listen to what you’re saying. Just give me—”
“Goodbye, Jack,” Andrew said, hanging up the phone.
• • •
Andrew cried before pouring himself a gin and tonic. He paced back and forth in his living room, his mind replaying his conversations with Patti and Jack. Was he being too hasty? Didn’t Jack deserve a chance to work things out at his own pace? Perhaps, but Jack did indeed love his wife, a wife who was undergoing incredible pain and wanted her husband back. Andrew also considered Jack’s strong family ties, which were strengthened by the Hartlens’ commitment to their family-owned oil companies. Jack was a conflicted man, and Andrew doubted his long-term resolve to leave Patti or break the news to his family.
He was about to pour himself another gin and tonic when he decided that he wasn’t going to sit in his apartment alone all evening. The room suddenly felt depressing and claustrophobic. Down the hall, the master bedroom contained several changes of clothes for Jack. The two men had gone to museums, the theater, and places in New York that the average tourist never discovered, but most of all they’d spent countless hours at Andrew’s apartment discussing the changes Jack was going through. Andrew looked at the walls with a blank stare, unable to fathom that he might never see Jack again. Sitting in the room where Jack had been less than twenty-four hours ago was oppressive.
An hour later, Andrew jumped in a cab to the East Village. He walked for a while, head lowered, hands in his pockets. He saw a gay bar up ahead and entered without hesitation. The lighting was dim, which suited Andrew just fine. Usually upbeat and optimistic, he felt empty and alone.
Six hours later, he was still inside the bar.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Amanda Senger was five-four and had a small frame. With blue eyes and brown hair, she’d inherited her father’s features. She was highly intelligent, but she was more serious and intense than her father, whose wit and humor she appreciated but didn’t share. At nineteen, she was a highly-focused young woman excelling in Cornell’s veterinary medicine program. She loved animals and was equally passionate about her riding. Although she lived with her mother in Greenwich, Connecticut, she spent a great deal of time with her father, who frequently joined her when she trained at Judd Baumann’s horse farm in Muttontown, Long Island. Judd, a high school friend of Mark, had arranged the purchase of her Dutch Warmblood, Pepsi, and Amanda could never seem to find enough time to visit her beloved horse. She loved Pepsi from the moment she’d first seen him, and she was allowed to groom the animal, given her equestrian knowledge and abilities. When she rode the horse, the two functioned as one. She instinctively knew each move Pepsi was going to make, and she felt that Pepsi, in turn, could sense the commands that she would be giving him. In fact, her trainer, Paul Arnoff, had told Amanda years earlier that one of the most elemental traits of a great rider was to have a deep bond with a horse and always operate in tandem with it, especially when one reached the competitive levels of riding.
Amanda was currently training to compete for the first time as an adult exhibitor in the High Performance Hunter Division at the Hampton Classic, which was held each August at Bridgehampton, New York. Starting at the age of nine, when she finished first place in the Pony Hunter Division, Amanda had been participating in this annual event. Such hunter classes in the High Performance Division required horse and rider to clear a series of fences three feet nine inches high and four feet six inches wide. When more than one competitor completed the course without missing a fence, they competed against the clock, with the rider posting the fewest mistakes and the fastest time taking the prize. It was a demanding course and called for consummate skill on the part of the rider, and it was a foregone conclusion that all participants rode only the finest and most well-trained horses.
The competition was still a few months away, but the event was one that called for extensive training. Classes for the semester had ended on Tuesday, and Amanda was heading into exams the following week. It was Wednesday, and Amanda thought it would be wise to go to Muttontown over the weekend to resume training with Paul. She was excelling at the basics, such as always looking in the direction she wanted Pepsi to go next after clearing a fence. Horses could sense their next move based on a rider’s intention, which could be conveyed by something as subtle as a quick glance. It was part of the close bond between horse and rider. She also managed to keep her heels down to maintain balance, and she never rushed a jump, which could potentially send a rider catapulting over the horse’s head. It was important to let the horse’s power execute the jump, not speed. Lately, however, Amanda had developed a small hitch in her riding stance. Her shoulders were leaning slightly forward, but it was imperative to keep them back in order to keep her center of gravity. During a jump, a rider’s body left the saddle briefly except for feet in the stirrups. To maintain equilibrium and land safely, riding posture had to be perfect. Amanda and Paul had been working on correcting the problem, and she wanted to get in extra practice time. With the semester’s “dead days” now upon her—time between the end of classes and the beginning of exams that allowed students extra time for exam prep—Amanda thought it was the perfect time to work with Paul and Pepsi.
She’d called her father the previous night, but he hadn’t answered. She then remembered that he was at a meeting supporting Joseph Papp’s proposal for a theater in Central Park that would offer free performances of Shakespeare. He was clearly as passionate about this project as he was the previous year, when he formed a committee to save Claremont Riding Academy. The stables, condemned by the city and marked for demolition, were to be replaced by a residential building. The day the Parks Commission announced a two-year reprieve, Mark sent Amanda flowers, saying he couldn’t have achieved the win without her for inspiration.
As an only child, Amanda was extremely close to Mark and her mother, and although there was tension and frequent arguments between her parents, she was devastated when they separated. Fortunately, Mark and Amanda’s shared passion for riding and horses kept their bond strong. After two years, Amanda had not only adjusted to Mark being out of the family home, she preferred her undivided time with him in the city as well as their private conversations on the bridle path. She didn’t mind that Pepsi was in Muttontown or that she had to ride a Claremont horse in Manhattan. Amanda loved her precious “dad time.”
Amanda phoned the office of Senger Display and was lucky enough to catch her dad between meetings. She explained that she wanted extra training time with Paul and asked if her father would call the airline and purchase a plane ticket from Ithaca Tompkins Regional Airport to LaGuardia for Friday afternoon and a return ticket for Monday morning.
“Sure, sweetie,” Mark said. “Do you have time for dinner with me Friday night or do you want to go right to Judd’s.”
“I want to see you first,” Amanda said. “I
’ll head to Judd’s early Saturday morning. I’ll take a taxi into Manhattan, but you can arrange a car back to LaGuardia early on Monday. My first exam is at three Monday afternoon.”
“Okay, sounds good. I look forward to seeing you, sweetheart. Ready for exams?”
“I’m almost there. See you Friday. Bye, Dad.”
Amanda hung up and reviewed notes for her first two exams. She felt prepared but, like her father, she was organized and left nothing to chance, especially when it came to her schoolwork. Later, she packed a suitcase even though the trip was still two days away. She couldn’t wait to see Pepsi again and work on her jumping.
• • •
Mark hung up the phone and smiled. Amanda was conscientious about school and riding, and lately she talked of little else but her training sessions with Paul and the approaching Hampton Classic. He was fortunate to have such a mature, intelligent daughter, although she was a child when it came to her parents, still hoping they would get back together. The broken marriage was a heartache Mark wished he could have spared her, but she finally seemed to be adjusting to the new family dynamics. Now that she was in college, she was busy planning her future as an equestrian and a veterinarian. On balance, he thought he’d been a pretty good father. Amanda was turning out to be a mature young woman with poise and promise.
He was about to rise from his desk when he remember his plans with Dana. How could he have forgotten? Dana was coming over Friday evening after work. Should he ask her to come over on Saturday instead? His hand reached for the telephone, but he pulled it back. Dana was becoming an important part of his life and he believed Amanda was old enough to accept the relationship, even if it didn’t happen overnight. Not one to hesitate, he decided that it was time for Amanda and Dana to meet.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jack arrived home in time for dinner Wednesday night but remained quiet as usual except for the small talk that he made with Patti in the evening. He was in excruciating emotional pain, but after what Andrew had told him on the phone, he decided it would be better if he went home instead of staying late at the office, trying to process Andrew’s ultimatum. He felt considerable guilt over what he’d been putting Patti through, and if having dinner with her could provide some small measure of comfort, then it was the least he could do. Inside, however, he was a mass of conflicting emotions, and by bedtime he was ready to collapse after watching a couple of hours of television. He hadn’t the slightest idea what he’d seen since his mind was only on Andrew. After putting on his pajamas, he’d gone into the bathroom and taken a Valium.
On Thursday morning, he got up at his normal time, put on a business suit, and had a quick breakfast of coffee and toast. Patti was all smiles, perhaps happy that she’d had the company of her husband for an entire evening at home, quiet though he was, for the first time in several weeks. Her brief display of normalcy tugged at his heart. How was he going to tell his wife that he wanted out of the marriage? He knew that she loved him, and the thought of hurting her was almost inconceivable. But he had discovered over the past several months that he’d been living a lie for most of his life. The idea that he was attracted to men was something that he’d pushed to the back of his mind since he was a teenager. He’d been a good student and had worked hard for Hartlen Oil before being put in charge of Hartlen Response by his father. His college roommate introduced him to Patti, and it seemed natural that he should follow in the footsteps of his dad, settling down and one day having children of his own. Besides, it was expected of him.
Patti was an attractive woman with whom he shared a great deal in common, such as golf, hiking, and reading. The couple got engaged after only a year of dating and married a year later. She worked for a short time at Hartlen Oil as an account executive before beginning her career in philanthropy with the Houston Endowment. Always beneath the surface, however, Jack remained attracted to the same sex, although it wasn’t until he met Andrew on a business trip to New York City that he found himself drawn into a close friendship with the display director from B. Altman. The friendship had quickly progressed to a romantic relationship, and it was then that he realized how much he’d repressed his feelings for so many years.
He folded the morning paper, kissed Patti on the cheek, and left for Davis, Konen and Wright. It was time to sign the consortium agreement and get Brett off his back once and for all. In the taxi, he almost instructed the driver to change direction and take him to Hartlen Response, reasoning that if his affair with Andrew was over, then Brett could no longer blackmail him. But in his grief over Andrew’s terse words the day before, he’d overlooked the fact that Brett had stumbled upon his slush fund and the investigation by the IRS and the FBI. He could hardly believe how much trouble he had created for himself, but the grim reality was that Brett not only knew too much about his personal life and misuse of company funds, but it was Brett who was going to be able to halt the federal investigation. He therefore let the taxi proceed to the financial district in lower Manhattan.
• • •
Brett was present in Conference Room Three at Davis, Konen and Wright, as was Richard Patterson, the managing partner and a competitive sailor who had created the consortium in his zeal to keep the oceans clean. Other partners were present as well, knowing how important the agreement was to Richard and the firm. Jack put on his best smile before entering the room lest Brett see that anything was bothering him. If Jack showed the least amount of discomfort, the always-astute Brett might well dig deeper into Jack’s personal life, which would certainly compound his almost unmanageable stress. He shook hands and sat at the table as Richard, for the sake of formality, explained the content of every page of the agreement. After Jack affixed his signature multiple times to the lengthy document, two junior partners signed the final page as witnesses and a third notarized the agreement, after which the conference room erupted in applause.
“I only wish Ralph could be here,” Richard said, extending his hand to Jack. “It’s a great day for Hartlen Oil, too.”
“You and Hartlen Oil are making a good strategic move,” Brett said, also extending his hand, “not to mention a very lucrative one. Hartlen Oil and Hartlen Response will be seen as environmentally friendly companies, and leasing your response equipment to the other signatories will net you a fortune. Welcome aboard.”
Jack hadn’t noticed until the flash bulbs went off, but a reporter and photographer from the New York Times were present. Such a bold environmental move on the part of big business was unprecedented and newsworthy. He smiled more broadly as he shook hands with Richard and Brett. Perhaps when Patti read about the signing she would realize that he had never stopped conducting business as CEO of Hartlen Response, ameliorating some of her suspicion. He was ready to leave when Richard signaled for the conference room doors to be opened and a cake was wheeled in as champagne corks started popping. Jack’s heart sank when he realized that he would have to retain his professional demeanor a little while longer.
“A bit early in the morning for a celebration, but this event is too important,” Richard asserted.
For the next hour, Jack shook more hands and spoke with the partners about response technology, but he felt dizzy and began perspiring as the minutes wore on. He managed to wipe his forehead with a handkerchief just before Brett made his way back to have a final word.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Brett asked.
“I’d rather have waited for the patents, but it’s a done deal,” Jack said.
“That it is. As I said once before—” Brett paused, frowning. “Are you okay, Jack? You look tired.”
“I’m fine. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the office. Is anything further required here?”
“Nothing at all. Have a good day, Jack.”
Jack turned to leave and headed for the hallway, relieved that the signing was over.
“Jack?” Brett said.
“Yes.”
“Give my regards to Patti.”
• • •
Out on the street, Jack felt as if he were suffocating. He was sweating profusely now, and his breath came in quick, short gasps. He hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address of Hartlen Response. The ride took unusually long because of several traffic jams, and Jack felt as if he might pass out.
Jack’s mind was filled with voices: Andrew’s, Patti’s, Brett’s, his father’s. But his own mind returned again and again to one single thought: Why are you doing this to us, Andrew? Why can’t you give me time?
An hour later, Jack seated himself at his desk after getting a copy of the Yellow Pages from his secretary. His right hand shaking, he impatiently thumbed through the large book, looking under Physicians/Psychiatrists. He couldn’t deal with his situation any longer without professional help. He knew only one name, a psychiatrist used by his senior vice president, who had gone into grief counseling after his wife had died of a sudden heart attack two months earlier at the age of forty-four. Using his private line, he dialed the number and made an appointment with the receptionist of Dr. Walter Stein.
He then settled back and loosened his tie. Taking several deep breaths, he picked up his telephone and told his secretary to cancel all meetings for the rest of the day. Jack Hartlen felt that he’d lost control of his company, his wife, and his very sanity. The worst part was that he was sure he’d lost Andrew Ricci for good.
.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Dana took off her light spring coat when she arrived at Mark’s apartment on Friday afternoon. Anxious about meeting his daughter, she left work early to make sure she wouldn’t be late. She would only have one chance to make a first impression.