THE GREAT PRETENDER (27 page)

Though he hadn’t really allowed himself time to ponder it, as of late, he sensed a change in Tracy. He allowed himself to think about it now, just before falling asleep. He ached inside as his thoughts turned to the other man she had taken as her lover.

He drifted into a troubled sleep, wondering whether or not her affair with this man was indeed over.

Donning a
chic
but casual pantsuit, Tracy set out to see Manhattan. Getting off the elevator, she decided her first stop would be the Plaza’s gift shop. She admired a few things, made some purchases, and arranged for them to be delivered to the suite.

Outside, horse-drawn carriages moved leisurely along, as joggers and business people moved swiftly about their way. The beautiful greenery of the trees in Central Park beckoned. Needing some time to think, she considered walking across the street to the park, but opted to go shopping first. She decided a walk through the city would be much more pleasant than driving the rental and finding parking. Initially, Tracy moved swiftly with the crowds, rushing toward the shopping district of Manhattan. Then slowing down, she lingered at the windows of Chanel, Gucci, and Tiffany, appreciating this morning’s window displays.

Standing at the Tiffany display, admiring an elegant wristwatch, her mind drifted to her troubles. By the time they returned home, Brent Stone would have a full report on Renee Jameson—whoever she was. Tracy was no longer sure how she
really
felt about going through with the investigation. Fear of hurting their reconnection stopped her from questioning Reginald about this woman.
But hasn’t that happened already?
s
he thought as she entered FAO Schwarz a few minutes later, remembering to buy a few toys for her nieces and nephews for tomorrow’s visit.

In the past few weeks, there had been a noticeable change in atmosphere. There were unspoken words, heavy silences, concealed emotions, and too many strained exchanges to ignore. Tracy knew there was no way they could reconcile the changes without discussing Renee Jameson. And how could she accuse him when she herself was a traitor as pathetic as Judas himself?

If she tore into Reginald about infidelity, she’d be opening a door. And what if Valerie’s suspicions had become his own? Could she be certain he hadn’t suspected anything, anything at all? Especially after that embarrassing episode with Valerie and Deborah…

Why
wouldn’t
he have become suspicious?

When Tracy finally
made her way back to the Plaza, it was in a taxi. After the courteous driver helped her unload her many packages, two bellmen carried them upstairs to the suite. Tipping them well and thanking them graciously, Tracy dropped her purse, shrugged off her coat, and rushed into the bathroom. She was exhausted from walking all afternoon. Her only desire was to take a shower and go the way of her husband, who was still sleeping peacefully in the middle of the large bed.

Valerie locked Olivia’s
front door behind Joe at exactly five seventeen in the morning. He had come over earlier that afternoon to meet Olivia, who had no clue he’d been spending the last three nights in the house with Valerie. He stayed until the wee hours of the morning, setting the alarm on his wristwatch for five a.m. Then he’d wake Valerie up for a quickie before he tiptoed through the house to the front door, walked to the
Stop & Shop
at the end of the street, started his car, and drove home.

After quietly securing the chain at the top of the door, Valerie hurried to the bathroom to wash up. The intercourse with Joe hadn’t been too painful last night, but this morning it was all she could do to keep from screaming in pain.

She sat on the toilet and spread her legs. Ripping a piece of toilet paper from the roll, she carefully wiped her vagina. The slimy residue of Joe’s semen appeared no different than usual. Slowly, Valerie raised the paper to her nose and sniffed.

Oh, no. Something is definitely wrong with this picture.

A bit panicky, she stepped into the shower and washed herself thoroughly. When she finished, she used her washcloth to wipe and smell herself again. What was wrong?

Don’t tell me I have a yeast infection or something,
she thought, getting dressed. Quietly, she left the house and hurried to the corner store at the end of the street.

The tall, lanky
man behind the counter looked up from his Tom Clancy paperback when a young girl rushed into the well-lit store. He watched as she quickly scanned each isle. Observing her agitated state, he wondered what her story was. He couldn’t help wondering what had caused her to come out to the corner shop at five thirty in the morning, behaving as though she were about to jump out of her skin, her dark, shoulder-length hair pulled into a severe ponytail.

His curiosity was further peaked when she apparently found what she was looking for and rushed up to the counter, clutching two boxes.

Fifteen minutes later
, Valerie was back on the toilet, following the instructions on the box of Summer’s Eve douche formula. “Oh, God,” she prayed aloud. “Please let this work.”

After a few minutes, she began bleeding. Her heart jumped as a stab of fear shot through her.

Blood.

She was bleeding and she knew it couldn’t be her period. Her skin crawled. Tears of panic sprang to her eyes and she shot from the bathroom like lightening.

Running into Olivia’s room, she shook her sister awake. “Olivia! Wake up. I’m bleeding!”

“Bleeding? Bleeding where?” Olivia’s voice was laced with sleep.

“Down there, Liv. It’s bleeding! What should I do? What’s happening? Why am I bleeding?” Valerie was crying now, and it clearly panicked Olivia.

Throwing off the covers, Olivia reached up and turned on the bedside lamp. “Wait, Val, let me see. When did this start?”

“See? What is there to see? I just told you, I’m bleeding! There’s
blood
coming out!” After a pause, she said, “It started after I used a douche.” She wiped her cheeks.

“
Douche
? Why are you douching?”

Valerie covered her face with her hands and said in embarrassment, “I smelt something funny. It had a funny smell, so I went out and got a douche.”

Olivia frowned. “A funny smell? Why would you have a funny smell? Have you been having sex?”

Valerie said nothing, only sobbed into her hands.

“Are you having sex?” pressed Olivia. “Tell me the truth, Valerie.”

“Yes! Okay? Yes! I’ve been having sex with Joe. But he’s it. I’ve never done it before! Oh, God, Liv, please just take me to the hospital! I’m bleeding!”

Olivia became uneasy then, as if she didn’t really know what to think. “What would be causing you to bleed
and
have a funny odor?” she mused, more to herself than to Valerie. “Okay, what have you done? Are you wearing a pad? Is it heavy bleeding? Like your period?”

Valerie hugged herself so tightly her muscles ached. “I…I put toilet paper…it’s not really that heavy. I just saw spots of blood…And then it wouldn’t stop.”

Olivia motioned toward her bathroom. “Come on, let me give you a maxi, and then I’ll call Dr. Gabriel when the office opens and we’ll go in.”

“Why don’t we just go to the ER? I mean, I’m bleeding!”

“Valerie, look, nine times out of ten, you probably went and caught an STD, so I’m sure it won’t hurt to wait a couple of hours. Besides, we’d probably end up being at the hospital all day long, anyway.”

After she finished in the bathroom, Valerie joined Olivia in the kitchen, where she was making tea. “Liv, I’m scared. What’s wrong with me?”

Olivia shook her head and said, “Did you make him use a condom?”

Just then, Valerie had a moment of déjà vu. Lydia had asked her the very same thing…And she had lied. She wasn’t about to lie now, though.

As Olivia handed her a steaming cup of mint tea, she said, “No. He never used anything.”

New York City, New York

A few days
after their arrival in New York, Reginald suggested they go for a stroll in Central Park. That morning, they had breakfasted in virtual silence over croissants and eggs. And it was at that time, as he sipped coffee and took in their surroundings, that Reginald decided the madness had gone on long enough. They should be enjoying themselves, shouldn’t they?

Here they were in New York City, sitting in a beautiful and elegant suite with mauve silk on the walls, drinking piping hot French coffee from Italian coffeepots, and behaving like they were strangers. That afternoon, they had gone down to the Plaza’s café for a late lunch that was as strained as breakfast had been. It was absurd. There were no
sensible
alternatives.

It’s time to tell her the truth.

Later, strolling in
the park, with its multitude of colors brightening their path, they walked quietly for several minutes before Reginald stopped, suggesting they sit on a nearby bench. Joggers and brisk walkers swept by them as they made their way over to the long seat. They could both feel the troubled energy flowing between them as they sat.

When they’d visited Tracy’s sister, Mervena, they spent the majority of the time in separate areas of the house. Tracy and Mervena had relaxed on the porch, catching up on activities and goings-on in each other’s lives, while Reginald had been in the den with Mervena’s husband, Sam.

Now as they sat alongside each other and evening bore down, they lingered in a momentary calm before Reggie worked up the courage to say words he knew would bring the tension to a head.

Shaking off all doubt that there was any other alternative, Reginald faced his wife. “Tracy, I think we both know that a lot of things need to be said between us. There’s obviously a problem, and I’d like to try talking about it so we can deal with it and move on.”

Pulling her collar up around her neck, Tracy half turned to face him. “Reggie, I…don’t really know what to say.”

“Come on, Trace, let’s not do that.”

“Do what?”

“Avoid the problem. Behave as though there’s nothing going on. Obviously, something’s come between us, and it’s time to talk about what it is. Things were going fine when I first got back, and now suddenly there’s…Something’s come between us,” he said, shrugging.

“What?” Tracy asked, raising her shoulders. “What exactly has come between us, Reginald?” Taking a deep breath, she said quietly, “The answer should be obvious…” From the look on her face, it was clear she wanted to take that back.

Reggie remained silent. He only stared at her, forcing her to continue.

“Who is Renee Jameson?” she asked finally, the same apprehensive look on her face.

Reginald’s eyes left hers. He looked out across the park before replying softly, so softly that Tracy strained to hear his deep voice. “As soon as you tell me about the man you’ve been seeing, I think I’d be more than willing to tell you about Renee.”

Tracy’s eyes glazed over. She couldn’t look at him. “You know, it’s a bit of a shock to hear you actually say that. I’ve been afraid that you’ve suspected it all along.” She paused. Then quietly added, “It also hurts to hear you acknowledge that there’s something to tell me about Renee Jameson.” She took a deep breath. “So, you did believe Valerie’s accusations, then?”

Reginald laughed bitterly. “Why do you ask? Was it true?”

Tracy literally swallowed her pride. “Yes,” she replied, forcing herself to make eye contact. “But it’s over now. Can you say the same?”

“Of course I can. Why do you think I’ve been breaking my back to make up for the past ten years? Believe me, I’m well aware that this is my fault.”

“Okay, that’s fair. But why, then, is this woman still calling you?” Tracy asked, tilting her head. “Why did she call you the other day? And more importantly, what did
you
have to say to her when you called her back?”

He watched as Tracy wiped tears from her face.
Can I tell her?

In that moment, Reginald made the choice. He turned on the bench, facing her fully. Parting with his fear, he asked, “Are we agreeing to be brutally honest in this discussion? Because this could make or break us, Tracy.”

Unable to look him in the eye, her gaze fell from his eyes to his mouth.

“Say something…please.”

“What do you want me to say? That it’s
okay
for you to ruin my life? Our lives? It’s okay to tell me all about this woman? Well, it’s not!” Tracy’s voice rose involuntarily, and a jogger turned to look, but he quickly averted his head. Tracy lowered her voice. “Reggie, this is…this is
very
hard for me. I’m having a hard time figuring out how we got here. I mean, where did the years go?
How did we end up getting involved with other people?
” She pulled a Kleenex from her pocket and dried her face, tormented by whatever was going on inside her head.