THE GREAT PRETENDER (34 page)

John walked over to his mother. “All right, calm down, now.” After a pause, he said, “Renee, why don’t you let Denise stay with Helen and the kids for a while. Maybe that’ll help…For a while at least.”

Renee’s head swung to face him. “What? Stay with Helen? No, that’s not necessary. I can take care of my child, thank you, John.” She couldn’t do that. What would Reginald think?

“Denise tells me that she’s been washing herself, as she puts it!” Helen said, storming back into the kitchen. From the sounds of play coming from the den, she’d apparently left Denise with Ashley and the others. “Renee, please tell me that you haven’t been making her bathe herself.”

Renee rolled her eyes again. “I haven’t been making her bathe herself. Come on. I’ve been teaching her how to bathe properly on her own, but I still bathe her myself. Geez, would you all get off my case? I’ll just take Denise and go home if this is how we’re spending our Thanksgiving Day!”

Bea pursed her lips tightly, grabbed the spoon that she had discarded, and resumed serving the steaming rice into a large dish.

No one said another word.

“Something has to
be done about this situation before it gets worse,” Helen said later, when Renee had gone. “Is it just me, or isn’t it obvious Renee’s losing it?” She dried the last casserole dish and handed it to her mother.

Bea absently took the dish and gazed thoughtfully through the kitchen window over the sink. “I think one of us ought to get in touch with Reginald.”

Sitting at the table, her husband, Ben, cleared his throat and reached for a toothpick. “What’s he gonna do?
He’s
the reason her head’s all screwed up now. In all my born days, I never knew I’d live to see such a thing. She just let that man go straight to her head!”

“Oh, come on, Daddy. Mom’s right.” Helen joined her father and brother at the table. “If Reggie knew what was happening with Denise, I’m sure he’d be on the next plane leaving Miami. Everybody here knows that he loves that little girl…Regardless of everything else.”

“I just can’t understand how she could’ve changed so much in the last few months,” John said, crinkling his forehead. “I mean, to actually be abusing Denise like that…it’s unbelievable. What’s really going on in her head?”

Ben let out a harsh laugh around the toothpick. “I’ll tell you what’s going on in her head: Reginald, that’s what. The man up and left her and went back to Miami to his wife and kids, and she can’t handle it, so she’s taking her frustrations out on the only person around, and that’s the child—
his
child at that.”

“Ben, do you think she might somehow resent Denise or something?” Bea asked, taking the remaining seat at the table, across from her husband. “Like, what if this is more than her simply venting frustration?”

“Well, venting does make sense, doesn’t it? I mean, she never treated her kid that way before, right? Even when the man was out of town all the time, she never put bruises like that on Denise.”

All four sat in silence then, thinking. Something had to be done to help Renee and to spare Denise anymore abuse. For months, the family had all watched Renee slipping deeper and deeper within herself. She became extremely edgy and unusually quiet, and at a moment’s notice would take off anyone’s head without much provocation. Just about anything said or done aggravated or annoyed her, and of late, the aggravation ended up as a vivid bruise on Denise’s body. They had to do something. They had to do something soon.

Helen broke the silence. “So, who’s gonna call him? Who has his number in Miami? Because I don’t.

“I got a house number for Renee a few weeks ago, after she hounded me for the favor,” said John. “But I told her she was a fool. Really, how honest are his explanations if he can’t even give her a number to reach him at?”

“Your friend Kenny still works for the phone company?” asked Helen. When John nodded, Helen said, “Good. Get the number again, and I’ll call Reggie. He needs to come down here and talk some sense into this girl before somebody gets hurt, because I swear if I see
one
more bruise on that little girl, I’ll give Renee one to match! Did you guys hear me? Blood pressure be damned. I’ll flatten her.”

“Oh now, Helen, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I don’t know if I could stand the thought of you two fighting like a couple of strangers.” Bea patted Helen’s shoulder.

Ben stood. “Come on, Beatrice. Let’s get on home before it gets late. This day has worn me out.”

When her parents
and brother had left, Helen went about straightening the den before heading upstairs to shower and go to bed. Brian and Ashley were already asleep, and the house was finally peaceful after all the day’s hustle and bustle.

Though she didn’t want to alarm her mother and father by admitting it, Helen had a terrible sense of foreboding about Renee and Denise. The poor child was suffering for…for what, really? The fact that her father was gone, perhaps for good? Or was it more than that? Was it for being his child, but not good enough to keep him in Orlando? Was that the
real
truth behind Renee’s reckless behavior?

Helen slowly climbed the stairs, heading for the bathroom. Her heart was so heavy, worrying about her precious little niece. She prayed to God that Denise went safely to bed on this Thanksgiving night…Without any fresh bruises.

Chapter 31

Miami, Florida

F
ranklin stood staring into the refrigerator for far longer than was necessary. His mind could not have been farther from the roast beef and mashed potato dinner Theresa had prepared and left for him.

His life was unrecognizable.

Weeks ago, Theresa had informed him that she was pregnant.

What the hell else could go wrong?

The day following his last discussion with Reginald had proved to be a red-letter day in the life of Franklin Bevins. He and Theresa had gone to a house party the night before, and she spent the entire evening complaining about every scent she smelled, even mentioning how Reginald’s cologne had nauseated her the day before. The thought of pregnancy had never even crossed Frank’s mind. He’d told her she might be coming down with something…Little did he know that something was a mini Franklin.

When she broke the news, his first instinct was to deny, to question that it was positively his child. But alas, even he was above such cruel conduct—he was nearly 100 percent sure it was his baby. Anyone who knew Theresa would know it had to be his baby.

In the end, though, he inflicted just as much damage as if he
had
denied it. Theresa had practically begged for him to “see the light,” as she put it. With hope in her eyes and urgency in her voice, she’d begged him to realize that this was a sign; a sign that they should’ve married years ago, when he left her. He had been cold and distant, telling her that he didn’t want a kid right now and that she’d better think about an abortion.

Frank closed the refrigerator door as he recalled that dreadful evening in his study. He would probably never forget it, since it had been his birthday and Theresa had planned the perfect evening for two. He had been at his desk, replying to e-mail, when she arrived. Her reaction to his suggesting abortion had taken him aback. Theresa had flung her imitation Louis Vuitton handbag directly at his head. Luckily, he had ducked before it hit its target, but it landed on his desk instead, knocking the lamp to the carpet. She proceeded to rant and rave about how she had spent years being his showgirl and sex slave. And for what? To end up pregnant and alone! Theresa had shown more emotion in that one tirade than she had in all the years he’d known her.

He remained at his desk and said nothing throughout her rant. Frank had even found himself hoping that maybe she’d get mad enough and have a miscarriage or want nothing more to do with him, at the very least.

No such luck.

For reasons he didn’t think he would ever understand, she’d ended up apologizing for the things she said and asking
his
forgiveness for ruining his birthday. If he thought he couldn’t get rid of her before, it would be damn near impossible now that she was having his baby.

A fire truck wailed in the distance, snapping Frank out of his trance, and he realized that he hadn’t taken a thing from the fridge. He opened the door again and pulled out the food Theresa had prepared. How dumb was she? He had seen some silly women in his day, but Theresa topped them all.

Though he had been refusing to accompany her to the doctor visits, refusing to even talk much about the damn baby, she still came by nearly every day and cooked for him, saying he’d come around one day and accept that they belonged together.

Despite the recent developments in his bizarre relationship with Theresa, Franklin’s mind was cluttered with something else…With
someone
else. Someone that had been haunting him for weeks, when he should’ve been thinking about Theresa and her damn baby.

Tracy.

And Frank would be damned if he knew what to do about it.

He had actually lost Tracy…to Reginald.

O
livia made useless attempts to calm her frazzled nerves as she spun into the three-story parking garage of Dr. Ulysses Berenger’s office building. She’d been circling the building for more than ten minutes, searching unsuccessfully for a parking space. “I sure hope
all
these people aren’t here to see the shrink,” she said aloud. Olivia had to admit that an elusive parking spot had little to do with her annoyance.

The day had finally come. A day that she had been dreading for weeks. Time to go sit in front of a headshrinker and play stupid. She was dressed casually in a brown cotton dress under a black knit cardigan that she’d left unbuttoned, yet she felt stifled.

After circling the first floor of the garage with no luck, she spun up to the second. To her relief, she immediately spotted an elderly couple walking away from the elevators toward the row of cars on the right. She drove up, putting on her indicator, because the last thing she needed now was to have some jerk come and rob her of one of the closest spots to the elevators.

After parking, Olivia consulted the card that her mother had given her the night before. SUITE 315, ULYSSES BERENGER. She stepped out of the car, smoothed her dress, and half slammed the door.

She was not thrilled about having to be there. Olivia did
not
expect things to go well at all.

Valerie slid her
feet into her Chanel slip-ons and ran a brush through her hair. Her mother had said they’d be leaving in about fifteen minutes.

How did she feel about going to a psychologist’s office? Valerie wasn’t sure. She was almost certain that things couldn’t get much worst at home. Their entire world had been diced to pieces. She was no longer Daddy’s little girl. Daddy had a new little girl now.
Denise.

At the thought, Valerie felt a weird sensation in the pit of her stomach, the same sensation she’d felt when her father’s words had seeped into her mind and rang true. For reasons she could not explain, after that awful and strange day in the den, the need to be close to her mother became overwhelming. She sensed the pain in her mother every time she looked into her eyes. This had really devastated her, and Valerie could tell that her mother was trying hard to hide it…Perhaps a bit too hard.

There was a knock at her door. “Val? Let’s go. We’re ready.”

“She should’ve gotten
that letter by now,” said Reginald. They were in Tracy’s Jeep, riding along I-95 toward the doctor’s office.

Tracy turned her gaze from the window and glanced at him. “You’re worried about that, aren’t you?” When Reggie gave no verbal answer, only met her eyes briefly, she sighed. “What do you think she’ll do?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” After a brief pause, he added, “I just hope for the best…Once she digests it all, you know?”

Valerie sat in the back of the Jeep and kept quiet. She watched the people in the cars riding alongside them.
Look at that girl,
she thought, as a young woman drove by in a gray Honda.
I wonder what’s going on in her life.