Once Upon a Project (24 page)

Susan got home at four-thirty. She carried bags from Chico's and from Bass Shoes, having stopped at the outlet mall after lunch, walking arm in arm with Charles. She felt happy, fulfilled, and satiated.

It surprised her when Bruce arrived home at a little past six. That meant he'd left work on time. Come to think of it, he really hadn't been late for some time now, probably from around the same time she first started sleeping with Charles. He usually got in by seven at the latest, which, considering that it took him an hour to get home, didn't leave him much time for play.

The four of them sat down to dinner together, and when they finished Susan moved quickly to put away the pork chops she'd made, load the dishwasher, and wipe down the table and counters. Even as she did this she caught Bruce eyeing her long legs, and instinct told her he wanted sex tonight, of all nights.

After she swept the kitchen floor, the dishwasher already humming through its cycle, she went upstairs to shower. Eyes closed, she thought of the blissful afternoon with Charles as she scrubbed away all traces of his touch. She even washed her hair, towel-drying it and leaving the hand towel on her head, wrapped turban-style.

Susan was changing into her sleepwear—a pair of pretty if not particularly sexy shorty pajamas she'd bought earlier—when Bruce entered their bedroom as she was bending to put on the panty bottoms. She held her breath. He rarely came into their bedroom so early.

Relax,
she told herself.
If he seems amorous, you know how to kill the mood. Just take off your top and parade around topless.

“What's that?” he asked.

“What's what?”

“That thing sticking out of your underwear.” He moved closer.

Susan went rigid. Was there something on her panties that would give away what she'd done this afternoon?

Bruce closed the distance between them with a few strides. “Oh, it's a tag. You've got on your panties inside out.”

She laughed nervously as her fingers closed around the tag, then moved to the side and felt inverted seams. “Well,
that's
a first,” she said. She pulled them down, flipped them right side out, and then pulled them up with a furious yank. Her movements seemed slow and clumsy to her, and she cursed herself for not moving faster.

“Hey, what's your hurry?” Bruce's hand poked inside her waistband, first cupping her behind and then poking his finger the last place she wanted it.

She stiffened. She
couldn't
have sex with Bruce tonight, not after being intimate with Charles just a few hours ago. Taking a shower didn't make her feel better about having sex with two men within the space of a few hours' time. She wasn't a slut, and she had an unpleasant vision of Ann Valentine shaking her finger in her face and saying,
“What kind of woman sleeps with both a man and his brother?”

“I thought I'd go to bed a little early tonight, Bruce. My throat feels a little sore.” Her throat felt fine. It was her head that was throbbing, but she didn't want to give that as an excuse. The old, “Not tonight dear, I've got a headache” pretext sounded so lame. Headaches had long since become synonymous with evading sex, even when it was a legitimate complaint.

Bruce moved behind her and ran his hands over her slightly soft and rounded belly. “You might be older, Susan, but you still look good,” he whispered, nuzzling at her neck.

Oh, God. It had been agony to have sex with him since Charles had been in her life. Before that she would have welcomed his advances. But everything had changed.

“I'm sorry you don't feel well. Go ahead and get in bed. Can I fix you a cup of tea?”

“No, thanks. I swallowed a spoonful of honey and gargled with some saltwater. I'll probably be fine tomorrow. All I need is a good night's sleep.”

“Sure, go ahead.” He landed a noisy kiss on her cheek, and she tried not to wince. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Susan felt a thousand years old as she climbed between the cool sheets of their king-sized bed. She didn't know what to make of Bruce's behavior. It hadn't been fair for him to starve her of his affections for so long, then all of a sudden start acting like it was old times. She had breast cancer. She felt lucky to be able to keep her breast. It wasn't right for Bruce to act like she had a contagious disease. Did he have the vaguest idea of how much he'd hurt her by acting like her breasts didn't exist? It wasn't her problem he couldn't accept her body; it was his.

She was still the same person, and he was supposed to love her no matter what. Now, after she gave in and received such tenderness from Charles, here came Bruce, as considerate and thoughtful as he'd been in the early days of their courtship. But even as he held her from behind and nuzzled her, he still hadn't touched her chest. Maybe he was feeling guilty about not showing her affection.

She didn't want to continue living with a husband who cared about her but wasn't attracted to her. But what was the alternative? Divorce? That came with its own set of hurdles. For one, it would mean the end of her health insurance. As a breast cancer patient, she couldn't afford to be without good coverage. The only way she could get coverage would be if she had a full-time job. No way could she get insurance on her own, not with the state of her health. She represented too great a risk to insurance companies as someone who would actually need to
use
her health insurance, not merely pay premiums and file claims only occasionally.

Susan wondered how much money she could earn as a working woman. She held an accounting degree, but things had certainly changed in eleven years. She feared the business world wouldn't view her as an asset because of her long absence. She'd be considered more of a novice. What kind of life could she provide for Quentin and Alyssa on the salary of a recent college graduate? She could probably get Bruce to willingly contribute alimony, as well as child support, but if she married Charles the alimony would stop. Quentin and Alyssa would have to live in whatever surroundings she and Charles could afford to provide, which would be much less elegant than the large house on the banks of Lake Michigan they were accustomed to. That alone could cause problems. The kids might even say they wanted to stay with Bruce! Bruce, of course, would love that. He'd hire a live-in nanny and go about his business.

Where would she and Charles even settle? It couldn't be Chicago; there was school to consider. They'd have to live in a good district, like Buffalo Grove or Lake Forest.

She leaned backward, her face raised and eyes closed. There was so much to consider when starting a new life. No wonder so many women chose to stay in unfulfilling marriages rather than go through all the changes. But just because she'd fended off Charles today didn't mean the subject wouldn't come up again.

She blinked. Wait a minute. She didn't have to do
everything
at once, did she? Why couldn't she start slowly, by getting a job? That way she could tell what kind of updating her skills needed. At least she did remember the basics of accounting; those would never change. She could look for something part-time. Surely Bruce wouldn't object to that.

She brought up the subject the next night at dinner, after Quentin and Alyssa were granted permission to leave the table. “Bruce, I think I'd like to go back to work,” she said as she set down a second helping of pork chops and fried potatoes before him.

“I don't know, Susan. The kids are still kind of young. I know Quentin is almost eleven, but Alyssa just turned eight. We agreed before that you would be here for them until they're in junior high. That's still four years away for Alyssa. So why the change?”

“I just don't feel like I'm doing enough with my life, Bruce. And I wasn't thinking about working full-time. Just something part-time that I can do while they're in school.”

“What about school holidays and summer vacation?”

“Oh.” She hadn't thought of that. “Maybe the kids can go to day camp or something. After all these years of being a stay-at-home mom, I'm feeling a little bored.” Then she played her trump card, her one shot at keeping at bay any suspicions Bruce might have about her motives. “I find the more idle I am, the more I worry about what the future holds.” She hated to use her illness as a cover for her desire to get on her feet, and she wondered if God would punish her for it.

The list of reprehensible things she'd done was getting longer by the week.

She certainly wasn't getting any sympathy from Bruce. “I understand that, Susan,” he said. “But I don't want the kids in day care. We agreed a long time ago that you would be home at the end of the school day. I think it's important for mothers to be home when their kids get out of school.”

“My mother wasn't, and my sister and I turned out all right.”

“Out of necessity. Your mother had to work because your father drank up so much of his paycheck.”

All she could do was shrug. She'd held nothing back from Bruce about her home life. He wasn't rubbing it in her face; he was merely pointing out a fact.

“But I always envisioned that you would stay home with the kids until they were older, and then go back to work and add to their college funds. We can afford for you not to work. I understand that you feel a little anxious about your health, but I'd advise that you do volunteer work at a hospital or a nursing home. It'll keep you busy, it should be rewarding, and best of all, you can go in when it's convenient for you.”

She sighed. That wasn't the solution she was looking for, but she'd opened the door, saying she sought fulfillment. What else could she say?
“I can't work for free, Bruce! I need to sharpen my skills so I can increase my earnings potential and live decently after I leave you,”
just wouldn't work. She didn't want him to know about her plans until she was good and ready for him to know. From the time she gave up her job just before Quentin's birth, Bruce had taken care of her, paid all her bills, kept the roof over her head and food in her mouth. He'd never been bad with money, certainly never denied her anything she wanted, but of course what she wanted now wouldn't go over too well. Instinct told her not to spill the beans until she absolutely had to.

The same instinct told her he wouldn't budge from his stance about her working.

And she also instinctively knew that Charles wouldn't be patient for very much longer.

Never before had she felt so hemmed in.

Chapter 38

 

P
at decided that Andy must have told his daughters about her being black. Neither Lauren nor Kaitlyn blinked when he brought them to his Hyde Park town house to meet her. She could discern no signs of discomfort or even evasion. They spoke to her normally, like their father brought home black girlfriends all the time.

She didn't know what to make of it. None of the men she'd dated had ever introduced her to any of their family members. Maybe it really wasn't a big deal. Or maybe Andy would be served with papers denying him visitation from his ex-wife when the girls told her about their daddy's new girlfriend.

They lounged on Andy's deck, with her close to the town house's back wall, safely under the retractable awning. This was the warmest time of year in Chicago, and Pat liked to stay out of the sun. She wondered if it would be this hot on the Riviera.

“Where's Daddy?” Lauren asked.

“He took a phone call.”

“But it's Saturday.”

Pat smiled. She wanted to tell the teenager that money never slept, but she didn't want to sound jaded. Funny how kids today took their expensive possessions for granted. Did Lauren have any idea that all the kids in America didn't have a car of their own, or split their time between the Hyde Park town house of their father and the suburban estate of their mother and stepfather, who was a publishing executive?

“He's always on the phone,” Lauren complained. “I'd hoped he'd spend more time with us, since we go on vacation next week.”

“Oh? Where're you going?” Pat asked.

“To Maui,” Kaitlyn replied. “I'm going to get better at surfing this year.”

Pat nodded. “You've been there before.”

“A couple of times,” Kaitlyn said breezily. “Haven't you?”

“Well, yes,” Pat admitted. “But I only went once, and it was a while ago. I'm going on vacation next week, too. I'm going to cruise the Mediterranean.” She couldn't keep the pride out of her voice.

“We went on that cruise two years ago, before my mother and stepfather got married,” Kaitlyn said. “It was a lot of fun. We went on a Disney ship.”

“If this is your first time, you'll love Cannes,” Lauren added confidently.

Pat's eyebrows shot up. Had these kids been
everywhere?

The patio door opened, and Andy came outside. “Sorry about that. How're all my girls?”

The dark lenses of the sunglasses he wore hid his eyes, but Pat sensed he was looking dead at her.

“I'm hungry, Daddy,” Lauren said. “Are we going to dinner?”

“You're amazing. You've been nibbling on those hamburgers I cooked ever since lunchtime.”

“I'm a growing girl,” she said with a shrug.

“You keep eating like that and you'll be as wide as you are tall.”

“I wish I could eat like Lauren,” Kaitlyn said, “but I gain weight.”

“Yes, my dear, you take after your daddy,” Andy said, giving his youngest daughter an affectionate hug. He glanced at his watch. “It's six-thirty. I made a reservation for seven-thirty, so you might want to get dressed. You can't wear shorts.”

“Where're we going?” Pat asked.

“A place where I had lunch with a client last week. I think you'll enjoy it. It's called Nirvana.”