THE GREAT PRETENDER (24 page)

Olivia was grateful that the sun was out and shining brightly on this Sunday morning. It was a good day for her to get a nice view of the area the house was in. A friend at school had referred her to Jenny, and she hadn’t wanted to waste any time starting her house hunt. Timing was everything to Olivia now. She had to get out of her parents’ house.

Now, as Jenny walked her through the house, she pointed out the brand new Kenmore appliances, tiled floors, full-sized washer and dryer, walk-in closets, oversized bedrooms, and all the other niceties that the spacious home offered. As Jenny continued, Olivia’s mind wandered….She was very excited about getting into a place of her own, but she still had an unpleasant feeling in the pit of her stomach, and it was more than just the awareness of the baby. It was loneliness. Nothing seemed to fill the void that Sean’s absence left in her life, in her whole being. How did one deal with loneliness? Who, if anyone, could she speak with about it?

Jenny Parker said something to her regarding the variety of colors available for the plush carpeting, but she had to repeat it before Olivia was even aware she had spoken. That was happening to her a lot lately. It was as though she were living in a glass cocoon, and life was normal for everyone else on the outside—but not for her.

Before Olivia knew
it, Monday morning had arrived and it was time. The time had come to rid herself of her mistake. She was extremely grateful to have her mother’s support; grateful she didn’t have to go through with it alone.

As she sat filling out the plethora of paperwork required for the procedure, Olivia knew she was doing the right thing. She wasn’t ready to have a baby. As much as she loved Sean, in spite of her better judgment, the baby had to go. Now was just not the time for her to make such a commitment, and Sean was not the kind of man she envisioned as the father of her children. She would be extremely selective in choosing a husband, because that man would be her partner forever, and she had high standards. Sean certainly didn’t measure up to the short list. Olivia was determined to married a man who would be a good father to their children, one who would never be a disappointment…

She felt even more secure knowing that her mother was on her side and agreed that this was the best thing. It made it easier, so much easier. If she’d had to do it alone, she probably would have decided to tell Sean, and that was completely unnecessary, in her view. Olivia wasn’t certain what his reaction would be, but she wasn’t willing to risk it. What if he objected to the abortion? No. She would not take that risk.

In the end, no one but her mom would ever know. Telling her mother was the same as telling no one at all. Of course, Tracy would more than likely talk it over with Olivia’s grandmother, Beverly, but that was a given.

Olivia clipped the papers back onto the clipboard, returned them to the receptionist, and picked up a pamphlet near the window that read PREGNANCY OPTIONS.

Once she had returned to her seat, Tracy adjusted the lapels on her coat and reached for a copy of
People
magazine.

They were both deeply engrossed in their reading material by the time the nurse opened the door, calling Olivia’s name. Replacing the pamphlet, Olivia unconsciously took a deep breath and followed the nurse down a long corridor where she was weighed, had her blood pressure checked, and her temperature taken.

Outside in the waiting area, Tracy sent prayers to heaven. She asked for forgiveness for encouraging her daughter to kill her first child. She prayed that Olivia be all right when this was all over. She realized that the removal of the baby didn’t mean the removal of the problem as a whole—not by a long shot.

“I think we
should go to New York,” Tracy said that evening as they were jogging around the block. When Reginald was in town and the weather permitted, they liked to go running in the evening at sundown.

Reggie looked over at her. “Why New York? I was thinking the Caribbean—you know, Jamaica or Saint Thomas…something tropical. And much more romantic than New York! ”

Tracy laughed. “Oh, please! You can create romance anywhere. Besides, we haven’t seen Mervena in over a year, not to mention all the shopping I can do in Manhattan.”

“How come your family never comes to Florida? Whenever we see them, it’s always on our dime. Mervena’s never even been to Florida, has she?”

“No, she hasn’t, but don’t get technical, Reggie. That’s just a ploy because you don’t wanna go to New York—and we both know it.”

Reginald grinned. He did not want to go to New York. He wanted to go to the tropics, where they could rent a lavish bungalow on the beach, make love in the Jacuzzi, laze around in the shade, and dance in the nightclubs. He just wanted to be alone with his wife and try as best he could to put distance between the present and the turmoil of recent years.

“Regg, can’t we go just for a few days? We can always go to the Caribbean afterward and take the girls, can’t we? Hey, slow down. I’m beat.” Tracy slowed to a jog and wiped her forehead with her towel.

“Yeah, I suppose we could do that,” said Reggie, reducing his speed. “What are the odds of Olivia coming with us?”

“Not good,” said Tracy heavily. “You know, today in the doctor’s office, I prayed for so many things. I prayed that nothing would go wrong in there. I prayed she would get over this Sean idiot. I
really
prayed that she wouldn’t live to regret aborting the baby. And most of all”—Tracy breathed deeply as she jogged—“most of all, I prayed that she would get over this wall where you’re concerned. It just breaks my heart, Reggie.”

“Well, you know that it bothers me, too. I haven’t been able to think about anything else since I got home—” Reggie was interrupted when their neighbors, the Ledfords, drove past, calling out to them. “Hey, did you remember to send a get-well basket or something over for the grandmother?”

“Of course. Don’t you remember I told you Olivia and I dropped it off one evening?”

“You did? Hell, I don’t remember. I guess my mind’s been too cluttered.”

“Yeah, we took it over weeks ago. Mrs. Ledford’s doing much better now, by the way. I think she only spent a few days in the hospital, at most. But, anyway, back to this trip…I think we’d better just leave Olivia alone for the time being. If she doesn’t want to come, leave her alone. Let’s hope she’ll realize that she’s just wasting energy, you know?”

“Yeah, I suppose. But, I don’t like it, Tracy. I don’t like it one bit. I think the time’s coming when I’m going to have to sit her down and force her to hash it out. The bottom line is, I am her father. She
can’t
go on ignoring me forever.”

They slowed to a brisk walk then, making their way back to the house, reminiscing about years past, when Olivia and Valerie were children and so much easier to control.

And for a moment—albeit a brief moment—it was as if Reginald had never been to Orlando.

When they got
back into the house, Tracy jogged straight into the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. The phone rang just as she tossed one to Reggie, where he sat on a barstool. She moved to glance at the caller ID box in the stationary nook.

“Hello?” Tracy said before taking a drink of the cold water. She heard dead air. “Hello?” she said again. Then the line was suddenly disconnected.

“What did the ID say?” asked Reggie when she shrugged and replaced the receiver.

“Out of area…It’s probably one of those credit card companies again, or some place like that. Come on, let’s go get a shower before dinner.”

The phone rang again before they made it to the stairs. “I’ll get it. You go on up.” Tracy went back into the kitchen and quickly glanced at the caller ID. Once again it read OUT OF AREA. “Hello?”

She heard someone briefly clear her throat and then say, “Hi, can I speak to Reginald Brooks, please?”

“Sure. May I tell him who’s calling?” Tracy rolled her eyes as she took another sip of water, thinking,
I knew it was just another damn card company selling something.

“Yes, my name is Renee Jameson.”

“Uh…Renee Jameson of…” She waited for the name of the creditor.

“I don’t think I follow.”

“Ms. Jameson, what company do you represent?” Tracy was losing patience. She was hot and sticky and needed a shower. She didn’t want to be bothered with these pesky solicitors.

“I don’t represent any company.”

The tone in the woman’s voice brought Tracy’s hand to a halt as she was about to take another sip of water. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I mistook you for a telemarketer. Forgive me. What did you say your name was again?”

“Jameson. Renee Jameson.”

“Could you hold, Ms. Jameson? I’ll see if Reginald’s available.” Placing the call on hold, Tracy jogged up the stairs to the bedroom.

She found Reggie
in the bathroom with the tweezers. He was pulling the few gray strands that had invaded his head of dark hair. She made eye contact with him in the large mirror. “The phone is for you.”

“Yeah? Who is it? Can I call back?” He examined his hairline for other grays.

“I guess you can. It’s a woman named Renee Jameson.”

It would later occur to Reginald that if he had just had some kind of warning, a hint or a premonition of some sort, he may have been able to hide his shock at hearing Renee’s name come out of Tracy’s mouth.

Unfortunately, he was caught
completely
off guard, and Tracy saw the shock register in his eyes before the tweezers hit the marble sink—and most importantly, before he could recover.

Slowly, Reggie picked up the tweezers and resumed his inspection. “Tell her I’ll return the call from the office in the morning.”

“Sure.” Tracy went into the bedroom and picked up the receiver. “Hello, are you still there?”

“Yes.”

“Reginald says he’ll call you back tomorrow morning from the office.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Thank you.”

Replacing the receiver, Tracy closed her eyes.

She felt a strange fluttering sensation in her stomach. If she questioned Reginald about the call, it would surely mark the end of the incredible relationship they had begun rebuilding.

Besides, who was she to cast the first stone? Had she herself not been living in a glass house?

D
ana Petrel inconspicuously observed her boss as he dictated details regarding a trip he and his wife, Tracy, would be taking to New York. She noted no difference in his appearance this morning. He wore a perfectly fitted suit with a blue tie and the usual cuff links.

Dana knew, priding herself on being an extremely good judge of character, that Reginald Brooks was an impeccable businessman. He wanted no detail missed or overlooked. All of his instructions had to be followed to the letter; all bases had to be covered. She admired those qualities in Mr. Brooks. In fact, she admired them more than she had ever admitted.

From the day she was hired, she’d found it difficult to keep her attraction to her boss under wraps. He was a dreamboat, one of the most magnificent-looking men on the planet. If he had ever asked her out, she would’ve quit the next day in favor of dating him. Alas, he had never asked her out.

Over the years, Dana had learned that following his lead was the best way to keep the atmosphere calm and serene at Hart-Roman. She had also learned that it was a sure way to make herself indispensible.

As such, she was careful not to appear too observant of her boss’s demeanor this morning, so she half observed, half listened to his instructions. He wanted round-trip, first-class tickets, a suite at the Plaza Hotel, tickets to a Broadway musical, and a rental car awaiting them at the airport. As she scribbled the information down, Dana tried to pinpoint what it was that disturbed her today about her boss. Was it a professional issue, or was it a personal one? She watched him for a few more minutes and decided—personal.

To anyone who didn’t know him well, the troubled tone of his voice would’ve gone unnoticed. The extra effort that it took for him to remain focused on what he was saying would have been overlooked. But Dana knew him well. She knew him well enough to know that on this morning, there was trouble.

Once Dana had
left his office and closed the door, Reggie tapped his pen on the desk and took a deep breath. It would do no good to explode on Renee.

Just as he reached for the telephone to call her, Dana buzzed him with a client on the line. He spent more than fifteen minutes pacifying the gentleman on a matter of miscommunication, then proceeded to place his call to Renee. She answered on the second ring.