THE GREAT PRETENDER (22 page)

“This is exactly why I need to tell you what’s going on with Olivia. I must say that I had considered against it, but I’ve realized that—despite her objections—you have a right to know. You
need
to know.” Alarmed, Reggie attempted to raise his head, but she tightened her hold on him, discouraging it. “Now, honey, just listen…Olivia is pregnant.”

Silence. Only the soft, mellow music disturbed it.

Tracy waited for a reaction…Patiently.

Then, slowly, Reginald made another attempt to raise his head. Again, Tracy discouraged it. “I know it’s a shock, Reggie, but please keep your cool. She doesn’t want anyone to know. It’s all under control. We have an appointment on Monday to take care of it.”

Applying more force this time, Reggie pulled out of her arms and sat in the bed, frozen. Silence reigned for several minutes. Finally, he asked, “She doesn’t want
anyone
to know? Or just not
me
?”

Rising to a sitting position, Tracy touched his broad shoulders. “Reggie, you know she doesn’t want you to know. Let’s not act like that’s in question. For reasons that escape me, she refuses to drop her coldness toward you. Believe me, I’ve tried to talk with her about it…To get to the bottom of it, but it hasn’t worked at all.”

Reggie shook his head. “I can still see that pretentious little ten-year-old. She was so self-confident and headstrong, even then…And she loved me so much.” He paused. “How pregnant is she?”

“She’s about six weeks now. But believe me when I tell you that she
can’t
have this baby. Not now. Everything points to it. Not to mention that this Sean is nobody she needs to be tied to forever.”

“Sean…that’s the one you were telling me about the other day? Comes to pick her up all the time?”

“Uh-uh, that’s him. But he’s just a boy, and he’s put poor Olivia through more hell than not. He’s still wrapped up with his ex. I had to scare him away from here the last time.”

“I can’t believe she’s pregnant.” Reggie slowly left the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Tracy lay back against the pillows, relieved that she had gotten it off her chest. Now she just hoped he wouldn’t make an issue of it with Olivia. After all, the problem would be solved on Monday.

When he returned to the bed, Reggie asked, “How long have you known this?”

“Since…” she hesitated. “Since she first found out. She came to me almost immediately.” After a pause, she said, “If you don’t mind too much, Reggie, I think it best to keep this just between us. Don’t approach her about it. I think that, in time, the ice will melt and she’ll share this experience with you when she’s comfortable.”

As they settled in for sleep, Reggie held Tracy close. He didn’t know what disturbed him more: the fact that at twenty-one, Olivia didn’t want him to know about the goings-on in her life, or knowing that had he been around, she would have come to both him and Tracy together—which was as it should have been.

S
he woke up that morning feeling a slight lift in her spirits. The summerlike Miami morning was bright and welcoming.

As she approached the towering glass building in North Miami, she had more faith in her recent decisions—she’d made some bold choices. Dressed in an elegant, but cool cotton strapless dress, the woman was the picture of allure, and it escaped no one’s notice as she entered the building. To avoid recognition, she donned a broad-rimmed summer hat and her dark, impenetrable shades.

Scanning the directory, she said aloud, “Dr. Ulysses Berenger…Suite 315.” She moved swiftly to the elevator, hoping to ride alone, but was then followed by several people who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. The woman kept her head low, avoiding eye contact with anyone, despite her dark shades.

When she reached Suite 315, she entered and announced her name and appointment time to the young, cheery receptionist. “You’re a bit early, ma’am, but Dr. Berenger shouldn’t be much longer with his current appointment. Please have a seat through that doorway”—she pointed beyond the woman’s shoulder—“and I’ll call you when he’s ready, okay?”

So she entered the spacious waiting area and admired the lavish decorations. The décor was quite contemporary, but with portraits of famous stars from classic movie scenes. The woman admired them all. There was Vivien Leigh, vowing never to be hungry again in
Gone With the Wind
; Judy Garland’s frightened face as she waited in the Wicked Witch’s castle in
The Wizard of Oz
; Audrey Hepburn perched in a window, singing “
Moon River”
in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
, and several others from equally well-known films.

The woman took a seat, enjoying the classical music that hummed softly from hidden speakers around the room. The music, as intended, acted as a mind-soothing balm. In only a few minutes, she was so relaxed the receptionist had to call her name twice when the doctor was ready. Still, she now approached his office feeling a little uneasy.

After they had exchanged introductions and greetings, Dr. Berenger took his seat, facing her where she sat on the sofa. In his early fifties, he was a sturdy-looking man of average height, with a shock of silver hair. Without preamble, Dr. Berenger began his mental probe. “What would you like to talk about today?” His voice was soft and comforting, in an attempt to help her relax, to gain her trust.

She hesitated.
Where do I begin?

Sensing her uncertainty, Dr. Berenger said, “Why don’t we begin this way. What was on your mind when you got up this morning?”

“Well,” she began, “the first thing I thought was how much better I felt knowing that I had this appointment. I really believe that discussing all this with someone who can be objective, and offer good advice based on that, will be of great help to me right now.”

“That is a healthy thought, and it is good that you recognize it. Very good. Now, why did you choose me? Why not a friend or a family member?”

“Like I said, I need someone who can be objective, and my friends and family won’t be…I need complete objectivity. They’re too close to me.”

“I see. Any particular reason they couldn’t be objective enough? Have you done anything you feel they would disapprove of?”

“Oh, no, Doctor—it’s my husband.”

“What about your husband?”

“Well, I discovered that he has a whole slew of women all over the country.” She struggled to remain calm, although the very thought brought the anger to a slow simmer.

“So he’s being unfaithful.”

“Yes, he is. And I’ve known for quite some time but I…I guess I needed tangible proof of it. So I hired a private investigator to get it for me.”

“Okay,” said Dr. Berenger. “Some of my questions may seem fundamental, but please understand that they are only to facilitate clarity.” The woman nodded. “Good. Now, how do you feel about these infidelities? How do you
really
feel?”

She thought of the best way to express it without sounding like a cliché. After all, men cheated on their wives everyday. “I feel like…I feel like I’ve been living a farce for the past eighteen years. Like everything we’ve ever shared was all one-sided…as though I’ve been alone in what I thought was
our
relationship. I feel like…like he’s ruined my life.” Her words were spoken quietly, but with a desperation that expressed the need for them to be spoken.

“You’ve been married eighteen years, and in the whole of those eighteen years, how long have you suspected infidelities?”

“Well, you know what they say about hindsight being twenty twenty.” After a pause, she continued. “I think I’ve known all along, from the week we were married. And I know you’re wondering why I’ve stayed, then, for eighteen years—correct? Well, it’s simple. I was living life with rose-colored glasses on. I think I
chose
to ignore his deceptions. I loved him…I still love him. And that’s why I’m here.”

“No, I think you may be mistaken about that. I think you’re here because of what exists at the root of your uncertainty when I asked what you wanted to talk about today.” He let his words sink in before he continued. “Think of that hesitation and why you hesitated…Why you couldn’t just say, ‘I would like to talk about my husband’s infidelities.’ Or something of the like. You couldn’t just come out with that because…?”

“Well, I just didn’t know where to begin. I didn’t know how to…to bring it up.”

“Yes, but there is a reason or several reasons for that. Can you think of what they could be?”

“Nothing more than a lack of words, I suppose.”

“Let me see if I can help you see why.” Dr. Berenger leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “There is clearly great pain and ambivalence in what you’re feeling right now regarding your husband. You knew what you wanted to discuss today, but when asked directly, you didn’t know how to express it without being led up to it. Now, with that in mind, think of how it indirectly applies to the eighteen years of marriage you’ve lived through.”

What the hell is he talking about?
“I’m not sure I follow, Doctor,” she said, puzzled.

“You just said, and rather simply, I might add, that you are here because you still love your husband, correct?”

“Yes, I love him, and that’s why it’s been so hard to break away. That’s why I’m seeking guidance in dealing with this situation.”

“So easily said now, but couldn’t be expressed quite so simply at the beginning of our discussion…”

One hour after
her arrival, she left Dr. Berenger’s office with more insight than she could have imagined. He helped her acknowledge the weakness that had given her a false sense of security in a precarious marriage.

Armed with her newfound wisdom, the woman noted the irony in the fact that she had actually been
helped
by the shrink, which was so much more than she had expected to get from the calculated visit.

R
eggie and Frank had plans to meet at the gym bright and early Saturday morning. Waking at six, Frank left a sleeping Theresa in his bed and threw a gym bag together for the workout.

Despite the fact that he was getting more than his fill of sex, there was a problem with Frank’s sex life—Tracy had left it.

She had chosen Reginald.

It was a slap in the face, seeing her now. Whenever he was around her, an embarrassing ache for her filled him.

He recalled the Sunday afternoon about two weeks ago when he had gone over to shoot pool with Reggie. Tracy had been breathtaking. Frank had had no idea where she was going, but she was dressed in a shimmering, soft pink blouse with long sleeves and an upturned collar, a black wraparound miniskirt complementing it. He had covertly observed her slip on chic sunglasses, wave her good-byes, and leave the room. She was as beautiful as any movie star in Hollywood. Ironically, Tracy hadn’t changed; she had always looked that way. But she’d never been more attractive to Franklin.

He resented the intimate looks that he saw pass between her and Reggie. The very looks that caused him to grin mischievously two months prior were now grating his nerves like sheets of sandpaper. Even more, he hated the loss of anticipation—that he no longer had anything to look forward to. In the past, when Reggie was there, they counted the number of days before they could get together again. But that was all over with now, and Frank was consumed with anger and bitterness—toward Reginald.

Franklin arrived at
The Ivory Estate
in a foul mood. Once inside the sophisticated fitness facilities, he realized that, as usual, he had beaten Reginald there. It did nothing to help his mood.

There were a few other men and women running on treadmills and bikes. They listened to earphones or watched the large screen monitors that hung from the ceiling of the workout room. Reginald arrived just as Frank finished stretching and began lifting for upper-body strength.

“Hey,” said Reggie, joining him.

“Hey,” Frank deadpanned, not looking up.

Reggie immediately began filling him in on the situation at home, oblivious to Frank’s mood. Given his response, hearing about Olivia’s pregnancy was not half as surprising to Frank as hearing that she was going to abort it.

“You mean she’s
agreed
to get rid of it? Hell, I thought she was head over heels for Sean. She—”