THE GREAT PRETENDER (25 page)

“Hello, Renee.”

“Reggie! I’ve been worried sick,” she said with exasperation.

“Renee, you
cannot
call me at home. Are you crazy? How did you get that number?” Reginald rose from his seat and faced the window. He commended himself for remaining calm.

“Home?” Renee paused. “
At home
?” She hesitated before saying, “You say that as though you live there.”

“Well, I’ve been staying there for the past few…for a while. You know, for Valerie’s sake.” The lies weren’t coming as easily as they used to. “Anyway, it’s nothing for you to worry about. I sleep in a spare bedroom. Why did you call there?”

“I told you, I’ve been worried! I’ve left several messages on your cell phone and at your hotel, and we haven’t heard from you in a while, Reggie. Why haven’t you called? What’s going on? How’s Valerie doing?”

“Well, she’s been…she’s been hanging in there.” The words were like sawdust in his mouth. “How’s everything there? Denise okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine. Everything’s fine. All we need here is you. So, you still have no idea when you can get away for a visit?” Her voice was desperate.

“Oh, I wish I could get away right now, but I can’t. Between work and keeping my focus on this whole situation, I’m stuck for a while.”

“I miss you! God, I miss you so much. We both do.”

“I miss you guys, too.” Reggie sat back in his chair and sighed. “I tell you what…I’ll try my best to get up there in the next few weeks. But it’ll have to be a very brief trip, okay? And, Renee, please don’t call the house again. If you need me, call the cell phone, and I promise I’ll call you back as soon as I can. It won’t do for Tracy to find out about us. Do you understand that if she knows, she’ll hang me out to dry when we split up?”

“Yes, I do understand about that, Reggie. I promise I do. I’m sorry. I just need to hear from you and know that everything’s okay? Promise you’ll call me everyday?”

“I promise. I’ll make it a priority, since I know you’re so worried, all right? Now you kiss my little girl for me and tell her Daddy loves her.”

“I will. I love you, Reggie.”

“Me too. Bye.”

Reginald hung up and laid his head on his desk. He felt sick.

Something has to give.

Miles away in
Orlando, Renee squeezed her eyes shut and blindly placed the phone in its cradle. She remembered the sound of his wife’s voice. Confident. Self-assured. And very, very comfortable.

Renee wondered about the current Mrs. Brooks. How did
she
feel about Reginald? Did she want to save her marriage? Did she want Reggie back? Did she think that having him in the house would bring them closer together? What was her story?

The following evening
, Reginald invited Franklin over for dinner, and when he arrived, Tracy was prepared. She was making peace with the fact that they were both bound by this massive, deceitful secret. After all, Frank had always been a constant in their lives, even before the girls came along. She couldn’t very well throw a tantrum whenever his name was mentioned, could she? So Tracy fought to accept the reality, and whenever guilt threatened to consume her, she recited the serenity prayer:
“Lord
,
help me to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”

It seemed to be working.

She could not change the fact that she’d had an affair with her husband’s closest friend. She couldn’t change the fact that Reggie had taken that assignment in Orlando and had been gone as much as he’d been at home. She also couldn’t change the fact that he had obviously met a woman.

A woman? Or several women?

It didn’t matter. He was here now, they were together, and they both had absolute control over what happened in their marriage going forward.

Sure, they
had
almost lost their way—at least she knew she had almost lost
her
way—but they were getting back on track now. This reasoning enabled her to behave more and more naturally in Franklin’s presence. At least she’d stopped cringing at the mere mention of his name.

That night, she managed
to convince Olivia to come down for dinner. Tracy was not sure if it was the coaxing that did the trick, or the fact that Olivia would have a chance to observe her mother and her Uncle Franklin in the same room together with her father. Whatever the reason, she had agreed to join them.

Now, as they all chatted easily and passed bowls and saucers around the table, Tracy felt as close to normal as she could under the circumstances.

“So, Liv, how’s school coming along?” asked Frank around a mouthful of mash potatoes. “How’d that Marjory Stoneman Douglas paper turn out?”

Tracy saw Reginald flinch.

Olivia smiled as she told about the ups and downs of writing about a woman as intriguing as Stoneman Douglas. “Yep, I learned a lot about her. I even learned that she stopped having sex at, like, twenty-three years old or something like that.”

“What?” Valerie joined in. “How old was she when she died?”

“She was in her eighties, I think.”

“What? Gosh! That’s, like, sixty years!”

After dinner, they
all hung out around the pool, talking until Olivia announced that she was going inside.

“Hey, I’m gonna head home now, too,” Frank said. He moved to throw his empty Budweiser can in the trash. “Why don’t you walk me to the car and tell me more about this house hunting you’re doing? I know some good Realtors, if you need one.”

Olivia’s eyes brightened, as she said, “No, I’ve already found a place, Uncle Frank. It’s in Weston.”

“Weston?” This from Valerie and Tracy.

“Weston’s so far north, in Broward County. Why so far?” asked Tracy.

“That’s where I found the best deal. You’ll love it as much as I love it! It’s great. Just wait until you see it at closing.”

Then Frank and Olivia left the pool area, chatting, with Valerie trailing behind.

Reginald turned to Tracy. “Well, I guess she’ll really be out of the nest soon, huh?”

She stepped into his arms, and they held each other.

R
oger Roman downed the last of his bourbon and returned to the bar for a refill.

“How come I didn’t see this coming? Am I getting that goddamn old?” He paused. “Honey, you
can’t
be serious. A divorce? You want a divorce? For God’s sake, why?”

Justine sipped her own cognac and said indifferently, “Roger, really. We’ve been drifting apart for years. You’re never home anymore, and when you are, all we seem to do is gossip about other people or butt heads about issues that are of no real consequence. Let’s face it, our marriage died years ago.” A mental bell sounded then, reminding her of her shrink’s recommendations. Though she respected the good doctor’s counsel, this was one point upon which she could not take his advice.

She would
never
allow Roger to see her pain.

For the past two weeks, she had had several appointments with Dr. Berenger. The sessions proved to be most advantageous. Everything was in the right perspective now. She no longer had thoughts of ending her life to stop the pain and humiliation. Her future looked bigger and brighter than it had in years. All she had to do now was teach this manipulative asshole a lesson. And it would be a painful lesson, one he would not soon forget.

Roger moved toward the chaise that she occupied, attempting to touch her.

“Roger, don’t.” She pulled her arm away. “It won’t do any good. It’s over, and I want a divorce.”

“Justine, you must know that I’m no fool. Where is this coming from?” Reaching behind the chaise, he pulled out a footstool. Taking the armchair alongside her, Roger perched his feet and took another sip of bourbon. “Come on, speak up. What’s really going on? Have you met another man? Or more importantly, a
younger
man?”

Justine’s blue eyes bulged. “Roger, please don’t be silly! There is no other man. I just don’t feel close to you anymore. We’ve lost that special something that we had when we met.” After a pause, she added, “And I think you feel it too, Roger. You must.”

Roger stared at his wife. She was just as stunning as the day he met her in that church all those years ago, the beautiful nineteen-year-old daughter of Deacon Dressler. He had wanted to make her his trophy, and he had. No man could have been prouder of a wife. She entertained, she hosted and impressed with seemingly little effort at all, just as a society wife ought to.

Now, after eighteen years, she wanted to divorce him? Make a laughing stock of him? Prove right all the hypocrites and gossips that had said she would eventually tire of him, meet a
younger
man, and leave him? How dare she? After all the effort he put into trying to satisfy her every desire in life, she would dare talk of
leaving
? It was ludicrous.

“Justine, I think what we need is a vacation. You know, some time away, time to reconnect and get to know each other again. I’ll admit that we’ve been a bit disconnected. It’s never occurred to me before, but we do actually spend more time talking about other people’s lives and feelings. So let’s get away, huh? What would suit you…the Mediterranean? Sardinia? I’ll tie up ends at the office, Brooks can oversee things while we’re away.
It’ll be perfect
. Just what the doctor ordered.”

“Roger. Have you not heard a word I’ve said? It’s over—
over
. The reason we spend so much time discussing others is simply because we don’t want to face the reality of what’s happening in our own lives and our own home. Please, let’s make this easy on both of us.” She rose and went to the bar for another drink. “I’ve decided to move,” she said, pouring another drink. “All the arrangements have been made. I’ll start packing tomorrow. I hope to be gone by the end of the week. You’ll hear from my attorney.”

Roger was astounded.
She’s found another place to live? She’s fucking serious!
“Justine, you’re going to stop this nonsense right now! We both know that you’re not going anywhere.”

Rounding the kidney-shaped bar, drink in hand, Justine made her way up the curved staircase, head high, shoulders straight. Once she reached the top, she turned to look down on her husband. “It’s over, Roger, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it now. It’s too late.”

Forty-five minutes
after
her well-planned confrontation with Roger, Justine spun her Mercedes into the driveway of her new home. She was glad that she had beaten Tracy there. Tracy had agreed to meet her after one of her committee board meetings at United Way of Dade County, where she did some volunteer work.

For her first residence as a single woman, Justine had spared no expense. The three-bedroom home was located in the
Enclave Estates
of North Miami, one of the most exorbitant in the area. Roger didn’t know it yet, but he had sprung for it. He had paid for the silk curtains at each and every window, the Italian marble on the floors and counters, and the tasteful yet lavish décor throughout.

Inside, she went to the stereo and put on a favorite Judy Garland CD to sweeten the atmosphere. Justine swayed back and forth as the vibrant music filled the house from every direction. She felt fabulous! The look on Roger’s face had been priceless. Though on more than one occasion, she’d had doubts. It would be so easy to give in to him, to acquiesce. But at what cost? Eighteen more squandered years of her life?

Her heart ached when she thought of the reality of what she was doing. It would not be easy; severing all ties with the only safety net she’d ever known. Not easy, but also not impossible. It was a necessary action that she had to take in order to regain her emotional integrity. Dr. Berenger had taught her that.

Now as she waited for Tracy’s telephone call from the front gates, she hummed along with Judy, went into her bedroom, and began unpacking a few things. Unbeknownst to Roger, she had already moved half her things from their penthouse.
Just goes to show how much attention he’s really been paying in recent years
, she thought resentfully. Just then, the phone rang and she answered, pressing nine to open the front gates when she heard Tracy.