by Linda Wisdom
Valerie's fingers trembled as she unfastened his shirt, spreading her hands against the warmth of his bare chest. She lifted her head to press her lips against his hair-roughened skin.
"Val," he groaned thickly, possessively capturing her lips with his, pressing her down into the soft pillows.
Her arms crept upward around his neck, drawing her closer to him. She felt him unhook her bikini top, pushing it away and kissing her soft skin, bringing a gasp of pleasure to her lips. Her bikini briefs were soon discarded, following Sean's clothing onto the floor. Her hands roamed lovingly over his muscular body. He turned her head as he nibbled her neck, her eyes half-closed. They widened slightly as they noticed his shirt lying on the floor, the moonlight shining on a dark spot near the collar. As she focused her eyes, the dark spot took on a bright red color—a lipstick stain. Valerie never wore red lipstick, but Felicia had—the night of the party.
"It's been so long, Val," Sean said thickly, his hand sensually caressing her bare hip. "Let me love you."
Tears stinging her eyes, she lifted her hands, pushing at his chest. He lifted his head, puzzled by her action. "Val?" His voice was questioning.
"Let go of me," she ordered, her anger giving her strength.
"What the…" He rolled away from her. "What is wrong with you?" he angrily demanded.
"Oh, very good, Mr. Sean Hunter." Valerie was breathing hard as she stumbled from the bed. "What kind of game is this? Do you think that all you have to do is snap your fingers and I'll jump?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Common sense has finally entered my mind." She blinked angry tears away. "If you think you can come from your mistress's bed straight into mine, then you'd better think again."
A strange light shone momentarily in his eyes as he replied drily, "That would be a little difficult to do, but I won't go into it now. But I am wondering what gave you that idea."
"Next time tell her not to blot her lipstick on your shirt!" She gestured wildly toward the floor before running out of the room, blindly heading for her own. She slammed the door behind her, trying to calm herself by taking deep breaths. Her head shot up in alarm when the bedroom door flew open and a glowering Sean entered.
"Don't worry," he ground out, throwing her bikini at her feet, "I wouldn't touch you after that little scene you pulled if you paid me. I don't intend to burn my fingers again." He stalked out, slamming the door. Valerie flew off the bed and flipped the lock shut.
"And if I were ever after that body of yours, a lock wouldn't stop me." Sean's mocking tones carried through the door.
Now that Valerie was alone, she was able to let the angry tears fall. She curled up on her bed, hugging her knees to her body, and cried until she was exhausted. Then she stood up, stretching her muscles, and slowly prepared for bed.
She pulled on a nightgown and burrowed under the covers, shivering as if she were very cold. It was some time before she could fall asleep and she tossed and turned all night, muttering restlessly under her breath.
Toward dawn, she awoke feeling more tired than when she went to bed. She felt a keen desire to tire herself out and could think only of one way to do it. She got out of bed and rummaged in her dresser drawer for leotards and tights, quickly pulling them on.
Moments later, she pushed open the door to the room lined with mirrors and a ballet barre. She turned on the stereo after selecting several records and setting them on the turntable in a special order. Standing with her left side to the barre, she began a series of warm-up exercises and stretches to the sounds of the classical music.
An hour later she stopped, feeling hot in her leotard. The damp material clung to her curves, still subtle even after having a child. She carefully replaced the records in their jackets and turned off the stereo before leaving the room.
Back in her room, she could hear Michael's excited squeals and splashing sounds, which indicated he was in the swimming pool. Knowing she couldn't put off seeing Sean too long, she quickly showered and donned a black-and-rust-striped bikini.
Michael was happily jumping off the diving board, while Sean was using a net to snare leaves that had fallen into the pool during the night. Dressed in gold trunks a shade lighter than his deep tan, he made an awesome picture. The expression he gave her was inscrutable as he insolently eyed her bikini.
Taking a deep breath, Valerie strove to act indifferent as she made a clean dive from the edge of the pool and swam its length, enjoying the pull on her muscles. She then floated on her back, unused to having a pool to herself instead of sharing one with both small children and adults, as she did in the apartment complex. After a while, she left the pool for a lounge chair where Sara had set out juice, rolls, and jam.
"How about a couple of eggs?" she asked Valerie, who smilingly refused.
"I'm not really used to eating breakfast," she explained, "although I made sure Michael didn't pick up my bad habit. This is just fine for me, thank you."
"You don't eat enough to sustain a mouse," Sara scolded.
Valerie laughed, the sound clear and pleasing to the ear. Sean looked over at her as if he were unused to her unrestrained laughter.
"You should have seen me when I was pregnant, then," she told Sara, her mouth curved in a smile of remembrance. "I looked like a whale and walked like one, too. I would get the worst cravings for chocolate buttercreams. The doctor used to get so angry at me because I put on so much weight. I had to work hard to get it off after Michael was born. I was so ugly then." Her voice drifted off as her eyes were caught by Sean's from across the pool. His expression frightened her.
"I doubt that very much," Sara replied as she left the patio area. "Pregnant women always have a special glow about them."
Valerie's muscles tightened under Sean's unwavering glance. His eyes lingered insolently on her bare, flat midriff before moving back up to her mesmerized eyes. It was as if he were silently condemning her for not letting him be with her during that precious time. Their tense silence was broken by the sound of a car pulling around to the back of the house. Valerie shivered as she saw Felicia alight from a white Cadillac.
The dark-haired woman was dressed in a red silky sheath with a white braided belt around her trim waist, and her hair was held back by a white folded scarf. Valerie sulkily noticed her red lipstick and the coordinated polish on her long, well-manicured nails. Felicia's cool eyes landed first on Valerie, then moved to Michael, happily paddling in the pool.
"I didn't realize you had company, darling," she purred to Sean.
"Valerie and Michael aren't company." His tones sounded cool to Valerie as he spoke to the other woman. "Val's my wife and Michael is my son."
Valerie was surprised by Sean's cold announcement. Why hadn't he told the woman last night when they were together? Why embarrass her now? Felicia's eyes glittered with hatred as she looked at Valerie.
"Congratulations," she drawled. "I guess I should have noticed the coincidence in names and your reactions to each other at the party. Tell me something, were you married recently?" Her eyes strayed over to an unconcerned Michael.
Valerie clenched her hands, trying to control her rapidly mounting anger. "Although it's really none of your business, Michael was born fifteen months after we were married," she said icily. "I don't care what you say about me, but make sure you stay away from him."
"Darling, surely you can understand my feelings about this," Felicia appealed to Sean, her hard eyes suddenly soft and limpid.
"I understand, Felicia." He set the net down on the concrete and approached her, much to Valerie's consternation.
Gritting her teeth, Valerie turned her back on the couple. "Come on, Michael," she said quietly, heading for the house. "I think you should change your clothes now."
"It was nice seeing you again, Valerie, dear." Felicia's condescending tone followed her. "I'm sure we'll meet each other again since Sean and I are such—close friends."
"Yes, of course, Mrs. Everest," Valerie replied pol
itely.
"Felicia, dear." She smiled triumphantly, with Sean standing near her. "No formalities around here."
"I was always taught to respect my elders, Mrs. Everest." Valerie smiled, the picture of innocence, receiving an angry glare from Felicia and a look—of what, admiration?—from Sean. "Good-bye."
Inside the house, she sent Michael to change his clothes and walked back to her room.
Valerie spent the rest of the day acting distant toward Sean, much to his evident amusement. He spent the rest of the day outside, working on the car engine with Michael avidly watching every move and asking questions. Dressed only in old jeans, Sean's bronze back was shiny with sweat.
Jealously, Valerie watched them from the den window. The man squatted on his heels, his greasy hands holding a car part while he explained its purpose to the interested little boy. Later, when they left to pick up her car at the apartment complex, Valerie didn't volunteer any conversation, preferring the silence, however tense, to a resumption of hostilities.
The following day, Valerie was glad to be able to escape to her office. She quickly showered and washed her hair, then chose a cotton short-sleeved dress with tiny mauve flowers on a cream background. She adjusted the drawstring waist and sprayed on a light perfume.
"Mom!" Michael burst eagerly into the room.
"Michael, how many times have I told you to knock before entering a room?" she chided, fastening a silver chain around her neck.
"I'm sorry," he said rapidly. "I just wanted to ask if Daddy could take me to school today. Please?"
"Honey, I'm sure he's very busy and—" she broke off, seeing his crestfallen face. "Is there a reason why you want him to take you to school?"
"I just want to show everybody that I've got a daddy, too, just like them," he mumbled, digging the toe of his tennis shoe into the soft carpet.
Valerie's heart went out to him as she drew him into her arms. "Then go ahead and ask him at breakfast."
"Dad, could you take me to school today?" Michael asked as he finished the last of his scrambled eggs.
There had been little conversation during the meal, much to Valerie's relief, as Sean had brought typed reports to the table, studying them as he ate.
"I'm sorry, pal." He glanced up from his reading. "But I have an early morning meeting today. Another day, okay?"
"Okay," he sighed heavily, slipping down from his chair. "Can I be excused, please?" He ran from the room after Valerie nodded. She turned to Sean with flashing eyes.
"For someone who wanted to have his son back so badly, you have a terrific way of showing it!" she hissed, her eyes narrowed like a cat's. "Having you take him to school today was very important to him."
"What's the difference between today and another day?" He was obviously put out by her attitude.
"Because it seems he's told his friends at school that he has a father, after all!" Valerie spat out. "A father just the same as they have. And he wants to show you off!" She threw her napkin down in disgust.
Sean gave her a long look before rising from the table, handsome in a gray suit with a light blue shirt. He left the dining room heading for his study. Valerie sipped her coffee, trying to cool her anger. She could hear Sean's low tones in the study as he spoke on the telephone. Several minutes later she heard footsteps in the hall.
"Michael, if you don't want to be late for school, hurry up," Sean called out.
Valerie quickly rose to her feet and ran to the doorway. Her eyes shone as she gazed at him. "Thank you," she whispered as she watched an excited Michael bolt from his room.
"When possible, meetings can be postponed," he informed her, resting a lean hand on his son's shoulder. "See you later."
Michael waved to his mother as he skipped out the front door, and suddenly Valerie had a funny feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she turned around, Sara was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching her.
"I've always taken him to school myself," Valerie admitted sheepishly. "Shelly picked him up sometimes, but I always took him. It feels so strange to see him going off with someone else."
"He's a boy, my dear." Sara picked up the plates. "He'll start turning to his father more and more. It's natural."
"What was Sean like as a little boy?" Valerie asked impulsively.
Sara's face softened as she was taken back into the past.
"Stubborn," she chuckled. "Once he put his mind to doing something, nothing could stop him. Funny, after his mother died, he changed. He grew up suddenly. His father died when he was young and his uncle never knew what to do with kids, so Sean took more care of Janine than anyone. Then as he grew up he became quite a charmer with the girls. Of course, marriage changed that."
"Of course," Valerie said bitterly, turning away.
Driving slowly, Valerie was not too early for work. Seated at her desk, she busied herself sorting various papers to be filed. She was engrossed with her task when Craig walked in, carrying a briefcase.
"Can't wait to get started, can you?" He grinned. "Any messages?"
"Only from Mr. Benson." Valerie's eyes sparkled. At least it looked like Craig wasn't going to be difficult. "He wants to change his will again. He had another fight with his wife."
Craig grimaced at the news. "I had to work on a brief this weekend, so I've got a load of typing for you." His expression turned serious as he noted the faint circles under her eyes. "I know two days isn't long enough to tell, but how are things going so far?"
"Fine." She smiled brightly. "Michael can't get over not having to share a pool with a lot of other kids."
"But what about you?" Craig asked quietly, sitting on the edge of her desk. "Kids adapt pretty easily, but you're the one who counts with me."
"Craig, please don't be this way," she pleaded uneasily. "Sean is my husband, and I have to respect him as such."
"If he's your husband, he has a devil of a way of showing it," he said fiercely, grabbing her wrist. "Or has he learned how to juggle two women at once?"
"Stop it! Stop it, Craig!" Valerie jerked/her wrist away from him. "You have no right to speak to me that way."
"In some ways I have more of a right than he does." Craig stood up. "I've always been honest with you." He turned and walked into his office, saying over his shoulder, "And that's more than Sean has ever been."
Valerie rested her shaking hands on the desk, taking deep breaths to calm her jangling nerves.
Craig was a merciless taskmaster that day. He criticized every minute error in her work, insisting that it all be done over. He spent the day in his office grinding out so much work that she was obliged to stay in the office during her lunch hour. By the end of the day, she was ready to drop with exhaustion. She even found it an effort to drive to the preschool to pick up Michael.
At the house, Valerie sent Michael to his room to change his clothes, and she headed for the kitchen for a cold drink.
"Just the two of you for dinner," Sara told her, her sharp eyes noting the tired droop of Val's shoulders. "Sean called and said he'd be late. He wasn't sure when he'd be home. He had a business deal to finish up, he said."
Felicia, Valerie thought to herself bitterly. Some business deal.
"If it wouldn't be any trouble, I'm really too tired for anything except a salad," Val replied. "I'm just too tired to eat anything heavy."
"Why don't you relax in a nice warm tub?" the older woman suggested. "Do you a world of good. Here, take this with you." Sara handed her a filled wine glass. Her eyes twinkled as Valerie's eyes widened at the large amount. "This will probably relax you more than the bath will."
"I'm sure it will," she replied wryly, accepting the glass. "Or it'll knock me out, at least."
In the hot, scented water, Valerie could feel her tense muscles relax as she slowly sipped the rosé wine and her eyelids began to droop. It was an effort to rouse herself to step out of the tub and dry herself off before slipping on a caftan of bright green cotton.
Michael was quiet during their info
rmal dinner and content to watch television until his bedtime. Then Valerie curled up on the couch, still feeling drowsy from the bath and the wine. She turned on the radio, selecting a classical music station. It wasn't long before her eyelids grew heavy and she soon fell asleep.
Sometime later she slowly awoke, focusing her eyes on the fuzzy figure standing over her. For a moment she was almost certain that his face was soft and tender as he gazed at her. But she must have been mistaken because his features were expressionless as she sat up, yawning deeply. "Wh—what time is it?" She stifled another yawn.
"Just past two," Sean replied abruptly. "Waiting up for me?"
"No, ironically, I fell asleep a little after eight," she snapped, struggling to her feet. "I've had a long day, not half as long as yours, though."
"And just what does that mean?" he demanded, walking toward her.
"Sean, I am still very tired," she said slowly, as if she had to think out each word. "I am going to bed. Good night." She could hear him muttering angrily behind her as she headed for her room. She fell asleep again before her head hit her pillow.
Her days became a pattern. She had been wrong about Craig. He had become cold and distant, a machine, grinding out work each day. Valerie came home bone-weary every night only to discover that Sean would not be home for dinner. Michael seemed disappointed that his father didn't spend much time at home, but he made no comment. The weekends were similar, with Sean rarely home. When he was, he spent his time with Michael and virtually ignored Valerie.
One morning she came into the dining room and found a white envelope on her plate with her name written across the front in familiar bold handwriting. Tearing it open, a plastic charge card fell out, along with a note stating:
I requested a card in your name for any purchase you feel necessary for yourself or Michael.
S.
She resisted the impulse to snap the card in half as she read the brief note. Glancing at the card, her mouth twisted bitterly as she read the name printed— Mrs. Sean M. Hunter.