THE GREAT PRETENDER (21 page)

“Trace, I see where you’re coming from, but I just can’t agree with that option under the circumstances.” Beverly paused. “Does Reginald know of this?”

“No, he doesn’t, and I’m not going to tell him because Olivia doesn’t want anyone to know—particularly her father. And I know you won’t agree with that, either, but just let it be. He really doesn’t need to know.”

“Tracy! He’s the girl’s father. You can’t be that far gone from looking at this objectively!”

“Mother, he doesn’t need to—”

“Bite your tongue, Tracy Russell! Put the shoe on the other foot. It would be bad enough if a stranger kept a secret like that from you, but to have your own daughter hide something like that from you…How would that sit with you? How do you think it would make you feel to be left in the dark about something concerning your own child? Honestly?”

Tracy sat transfixed at the thought. How
would
that make her feel?

Beverly continued in a soft tone, “I know you think you’re looking out for Olivia’s best interests here, but Reginald
is
her father and he has a right to know that this is happening to her. He has a right to be a part of this decision. Surely you can see that? You think I could’ve kept something like that from your father? Good heavens, no.”

Her mother was right. Tracy had to relent. Reggie did have a right to know. Closing her eyes, she breathed heavily. “You
are
right…You’re right. Yes, I do see that. It would kill me to be left out of anything concerning the girls.” She paused. “I don’t know, Mom. It’s kind of funny. Since Reggie’s been away so long…I guess it became natural to keep things from him.” A wave of shame shot through her at the full implications of her words. “Anyway, we’re due at Parker Playhouse in about an hour, so we’ll talk tomorrow. I’ve got to finish getting ready. Love you.”

“Promise me you’ll tell that man about this baby before Monday, Tracy. Do you promise?”

“Oh, I’ll definitely tell him now that you’ve shamed me into it. I just hope I can convince him to keep it to himself and not mention it to Olivia. She would have a stroke if she ever found out that he knew.”

“Can’t something be done about that situation, Trace? Olivia can’t go on feeling that way about Reginald forever, you know. You all need to work that out, as well.”

“Oh, boy, believe me. I’m trying my best to make things better around here. I guess it’s just gonna take some more time, that’s all.”

“Well, you have a good time tonight, honey.”

After the conversation ended, Tracy sat there on the sofa for several minutes, lost in thought. She barely stirred when Reginald left the bathroom and moved about, getting dressed. She responded absently as he remarked about the good things he’d heard around the office about the play they’d be seeing that night. She sat, worrying once again, about the direction their family was headed.

Tracy would have given anything for a magic wand.

“D
amn, that was a good movie!” said seventeen-year-old Joe Ellison, throwing his arm around Valerie’s shoulder. They were exiting the movie theater.

Valerie had a cheek ache from smiling at Joe. If his attentions were any indication, he seemed to be incredibly interested in her. That gave her plenty to smile about.

“Yeah, it was good. I could’ve sworn that girl was gonna end up dead at the end!” This was from Ron, who was possessively holding Lydia.

The couples made their way through the theater’s parking lot toward Lydia’s car. As they walked behind together, Valerie felt Joe’s hand slip over the mound of her right breast, squeezing it through her cotton blouse.

She shivered.

Bending close to her ear, he whispered, “So, can I take you home?”

Turning to see if Lydia and Ron were watching, she answered, “Yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.”

Just then, Ron turned. “Hey, let’s go to IHOP or Denny’s? Lydia and I are hungry. You guys wanna eat?”

Joe squeezed Valerie’s breast again, smiling mischievously. “Uh-uh, you guys go ahead. Don’t worry about Valerie, Lydia—I’ll get her home.”

“Okay, then. Catch y’all later.” Ron and Joe did their “cool man” handshake, and Lydia smiled knowingly at Valerie. Valerie had just enough time to return the furtive smile before Joe pointed her in the direction of his car.

Once they reached it, Valerie was shocked to see that he drove a late model Pontiac Grand Am. “Wow! This is your car?”

“No, it’s my Mom’s. She lets me hold it sometimes,” he chuckled, “when she’s in a good mood.”

Valerie couldn’t stop smiling. She thought surely she must look like a smiling idiot! She really liked Joe. He was so very polite, different from all the other boys she’d gone out with at school. Joe was much more polished and definitely smoother in his approach. His voice was low and mellow, and she loved the way he bobbed when he walked. It was so sexy.

“So,
are
you hungry?” asked Joe as he started the car. “Wanna get something to eat, go down to the park and hang out for a while?”

Valerie looked at the small clock display on the dashboard; the digits read 9:18. That meant she had just a little over an hour to get home…But subconsciously, she knew her parents were out and wouldn’t be home to know what time she arrived. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan. Let’s get some McDonald’s. We can stop at the one by Stoneman Douglas Park.”

Parker Playhouse had
been packed to capacity for the production of
Henry VIII
. Theatergoers were now making their way to the strategically placed exits located all around the circular building. The place was abuzz with chatter of the production as everyone leisurely descended balconies and stairways.

Reginald suggested they remain in their seats until the crowd below had dwindled.

“I agree,” said Roger, running a hand through his hair. “Besides, it’s probably going to be a hell of a wait out there with the valets.”

“No, not really. They’re pretty quick here,” said Justine Roman. “When we came to see
Othello
we waited, what, five, ten minutes, Tracy?”

“Yeah, not even ten minutes,” Tracy answered with a brief nod. “But we can still wait until the crowd’s out of here, so we don’t have to stand in these lines for the next decade.”

As Roger and Reginald got into deep conversation about profit margins and quarter projections, Justine and Tracy exchanged conflicting opinions on
Henry VIII.

While
Justine appreciated the style in which the story was presented, giving great praise to the overall tone of the play, Tracy criticized the dreamy, fairy tale-like arrangement. In nearly twenty minutes of debating, the only thing they could agree on was the obvious talent displayed in the unique cast of players.

Once the building had virtually cleared, the foursome made their way to the valets, agreeing to meet at
The Ivory Estate
for drinks.

Speeding along Dixie
Highway, Reggie and Tracy chatted about the play before Tracy grew serious. “Can we skip The
Ivory
tonight and go on home?”

“Ouch. That would be rather rude, wouldn’t it? We just told them we’d meet them there! Why, is something wrong?” Reginald’s eyes left the road briefly, shifting in concern.

“Well, there’s something we need to talk about…Privately. It’s about Olivia.”

“Oh,” said Reggie, refocusing on the road. “Sounds serious. Well, if it’s that important I guess we can call and let them know we changed our minds. Do you have your phone on you?”

Tracy hesitated, apprehensive. She finally shook her head. “No, on second thought, let’s go ahead and pop in for half an hour or so, at least. It actually has been a while since Justine and I got together. We can talk when we get home.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah…it can wait.”

The Ivory Estate
was an exclusive, members-only recreational club. For a mere forty-eight hundred dollars per month, members enjoyed all manners of luxuries ranging from full-body massages and treatments to private, all-inclusive dinners and galas.

When they arrived, Reginald maneuvered the Navigator up the winding entrance
,
which resided at the top of a foothill elevation from the main road. “We’ll just have one drink and take our leave,” he said.

Turning the car over to the valet, Reggie slipped his arm around Tracy’s waist, and she snuggled against him. They made a striking couple as they walked into the building.

The Ivory, as
they made their grand entrance,
w
as a flurry of activity. Several groups and couples were enjoying the chic atmosphere, jazzy music, and mouthwatering cuisine.

Jack, the host, knew them on sight and promptly escorted them toward Roger and Justine, who had just taken their seats.

Justine spotted them first and discretely signaled Roger to cease his recitation of Reginald’s current dilemmas. He was filling her in on what little they had been able to discuss in hushed tones while she and Tracy had been busy debating the play, back at Parker Playhouse.

When they were all seated and their drinks ordered, they laughed and bantered about current affairs and gossip. People stopped by the table to offer greetings, some coming over to congratulate Roger on his winning bid for an exquisite antique bureau.

Charity auctions were frequently held at
The Ivory
. Knowing how his wife valued period detail and antiques, Roger had people keep tabs on forthcoming items so he could surprise Justine with trinkets and such. Although the nineteenth-century chiffonnier had cost him fifteen grand, he knew it was worth it just to see her eyes light up when she saw it. Seeing the tender appreciation with which she accepted such gifts warmed Roger’s heart.

Just over thirty
minutes into their sitting, Tracy announced she was tired and that they would be leaving.

“But we just got here—you can’t go yet!” Justine exclaimed, sipping a martini. “We haven’t even had a chance to have our girl talk, Tracy, and it’s only quarter past eleven.”

“Oh, I know, darling, but how about we meet here tomorrow morning for tennis? I’m just really beat tonight, and this martini didn’t do a thing to help,” she said before downing the last of the potent liquor.

Examining a cuticle, Justine considered the tennis invitation. “You know what? Morning is no good. Let’s do an afternoon match, and afterward we’ll have lunch…We can meet here at, say, around twelve thirty? Is that good for you?”

“Twelve thirty’s fine. I’ll see you then. Bye for now. Take care, Roger.”

They exchanged hugs and handshakes before Tracy and Reginald made their grand exit, headed for home.

As her parents
stood outside
The Ivory Estate
awaiting their car, Valerie was awkwardly scrambling up the stairs, thanking God with every step that she had beaten them home. Her head felt woozy and her body was sore, but she would not have traded the night’s events for a million dollars!

What she needed now was a nice warm bath to soothe her aching muscles, and then she’d get Lydia on the phone to share all the glorious details. She had to tell someone or burst, and Olivia was no doubt locked away in her room, as usual, oblivious to anything going on in the rest of the house.

Wait until Lydia hears this!

She had given her virginity to Joseph Ellison.

Later that night
when they were in bed, Tracy held Reginald’s head to her breast after they had made love; tunes from their favorite soft-rock CD filtered through the room, faint background music.

Reggie brushed his lips lightly across the curve of her breast. “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?” His voice was low, and she knew he was minutes away from falling asleep.

With a prayer to God in the back of her liquor-hazed mind, Tracy decided to simply say what needed to be said. She took a deep breath. “Before I say this, I want to make a point of saying that I really do understand your concerns, Reggie. I mean, about the girls, and how working in Orlando hurt your relationship with them. I get it, so I can understand your being so disappointed.”

“I know you understand,” he replied. “I know you were listening that night at the bowling alley. That’s why I love you. You understand
me.
” He softly kissed her breast again.