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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Women's Fiction, #Friendship, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Erotica

Private Pleasures (18 page)

BOOK: Private Pleasures
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Back down in the kitchen, she put all the dishes from breakfast in the dishwasher and mopped the counters. There was just enough room for her supper plate. It was after four now, and the sunset was visible through the kitchen windows. Nora sat down, and called Margo to wish her a happy new year.
"What are you doing?" Margo asked her daughter.
"I've just got the tree out, and everything cleaned up," Nora answered.
"Where are the kids?"
"Jill went back a few days ago. She's met someone, and they wanted to spend New Year's Eve together. I got J. J. off on the noon bus."
"Tomorrow's the day, right?" Margo asked.
"Yep," Nora said shortly.
"Come down and stay with me," Margo said. "South Carolina coastal winters are really lovely. The winter jasmine is already starting to bloom. We could house hunt for you. It's really so much cheaper down here. You wouldn't have to give up any of your furniture. Taylor is building a lovely development just a few miles from here. You could customize it to suit you at this stage."
"Thanks, Ma, but I'm not ready to make that kind of a commitment yet," Nora said. Nor ever, she thought silently.
"Look, honey, you really have nothing to do now. Come down," Margo persisted.
"Ma, I've got another semester of classes to take, and then I've got to job hunt. The thousand dollars a month Jeff is going to be doling out to me isn't going to make it. I can't be a lady of leisure like you can," Nora told her mother.
"They still have midwinter breaks, don't they?" Margo said dryly. "I'll send you a ticket. I'll send you two, and J. J. can come with you."
"He's already mentioned something about going skiing with Lily and her family," Nora said.
"Then I'll just send one ticket. Come on, darling, you need a break. The last six months have been horrendous for you. Besides, I miss you. And Taylor does too," Margo coaxed in her best tones.
"Still set on not remarrying?" Nora teased her mother.
"I'm rethinking my priorities," Margo admitted. "Taylor is a lot of fun, and right now he does seem to be pretty maintenance-free. We're going to be cruising in the Bahamas in March on his yacht. Now, say you'll come," Margo pleaded, not being pulled from her determination.
"Okay, I'll come," Nora said. Might as well tell her mother she'd come even if there was little chance she would. It made Margo happy, and Nora wanted to leave her happy. They spoke for another few minutes, and then Nora said, "I want to call Jill, Ma. I'll talk to you in a few days."
Jill sounded sleepy. She was up, but it had obviously been a very late night for her, and Nora heard the voice of a man in the background. She smiled. This was serious. Jill never let anyone stay over, and her roommates hadn't returned yet, so that male voice had to belong to her friend.
"Will you be alright tomorrow, Ma?" Jill sounded genuinely worried.
"Fine," Nora responded. "Your grandmother has me coming down in midwinter break to South Carolina. She wants me to look at places to live. Taylor is building a new development. I told her I'd come, but no new house."
"Ma, it wouldn't be a bad idea. The Carolinas are so much cheaper, even now. And I'm here."
"Your brother isn't, and J. J. needs his mother for a while longer," Nora said. "He has to go to State. I can't afford to send him anywhere else. Thank God he got the scholarship for soccer."
"Okay, but you should think about it," Jill pressed.
They spoke for a few more minutes, and then no sooner had she hung up than the phone rang. It was J. J. They were back. The dorm was warmer than the house. The trip was fine, and he'd call tomorrow after she got back from town.
"You don't have to, honey," she said. "I'm going to be fine. I'm resigned to this now. Not happy, but resigned."
"If you need me, Ma, at any time, I'll come home," he told her.
"You damned well better stay in school, J. J.," she scolded. "I love you, honey, but no way will I ever need to lean on you."
"Okay, Ma, I get it. I am woman, hear me roar," he kidded.
"You got it, boyo!"
"I gotta run," he said.
"Got a life now, do you?" she teased back. "Okay, honey, bye, now."
"Bye, Ma. I love you!" And then he was gone.
It was done. She had said her good-byes for now to everyone she loved. She fixed herself supper, consisting of cold ham and macaroni and cheese. Her mother always said eating pork on the new year brought luck. I'm going to need luck, Nora considered. She got up, put her dishes in the dishwasher, turned it on, and put food in the cats' bowls, filling their water dish and crunchies container. She had called Suburban Cable while J. J. had been in the shower this morning. Now it was her turn to shower. She went upstairs, bathed, and washed her hair, drying it with the dryer her son had left on her sink counter this morning. She got into the clean new flannel nightgown that Jill had given her for Christmas. It was soft pink, and had lace at the wrists and a small ruffle at the neck. She slipped her feet into the new pink suede slippers lined with lamb's wool that J. J. had given her. After brushing her hair, she drew it back and fastened it neatly with an elastic band. She headed downstairs and fixed herself a cup of tea, put the last of Carla's Christmas cookies on a china plate, and carried them into the den. She had lost a lot of weight during the last six months, but Carla's cookies had always been irresistible, and it was the end of the holidays, Nora reasoned. She turned on
Jeopardy!
and got a lot of the answers right. Next came
Wheel of Fortune
but she was never any good at solving the puzzles until it became so obvious the village idiot could figure it out. She tipped the teacup over into the saucer, and regretfully left the last cookie on the plate. It made a nice effect. The clock on the fireplace mantel struck eight o'clock.
For a moment Nora debated one last time if she was doing the right thing. What if Mr. Nicholas had lied, and she couldn't get back? Then she decided that if Jeff was going to get the house, the reality of The Channel was a far better world for her than the one she was now in. Reaching out, Nora pressed her palm against the television screen, feeling the now-familiar pop within her body. She was there, and she meant to stay until she could force Jeff to give up his selfish quest for the house.
"Honey," she said, calling out for Kyle, "I'm home!"

Chapter Eight

"What the hell do you mean, she can't sign the papers today?" Jeff Buckley's face was beet red with his anger. "I warned you that the bitch would try something cute if you didn't make her sign last autumn. What are you going to do about this, Kramer? I've paid you a fortune so far, and I'm still married to Nora."
Raoul Kramer looked at his client with what he hoped was an emotionless face. He didn't like Jeff Buckley, and the more he knew him, the less he liked him. He had taken his case as a favor to Jeff's senior partner, with whom he had roomed at college. It should have been a quiet divorce. His voice was cool as he spoke. "Your wife is in the hospital, Buckley. She is unconscious. Her attorney found her this morning when he went to pick her up, so they could drive into the city together."
"Is she going to die?" If she died, everything would be his.
"They don't know yet. They don't even know what's the matter. You would have to speak with Rick Johnson, her attorney. You know him. You were neighbors," the lawyer said.
"So what happens now?" Jeff asked. "Can I get the divorce?"
"Not until she regains consciousness or dies," Raoul Kramer said. "The judge ordered that we had to have a settlement before she would hear the case in its entirety."
"Get another judge, then," Jeff said.
"Not possible. You haven't got the grounds for it. No judge will grant you a divorce from Mrs. Buckley without that settlement being signed. You're stuck for the time being, I'm afraid. Besides, how would it look if you divorced her now?"
"She isn't on my health insurance anymore. How long will the hospital keep her under those circumstances?" Jeff wanted to know.
"You took her off your health insurance?" Kramer was astounded. "That was part of the agreement. You have to pay her health insurance along with the alimony for five years. When the hell did you do that?"
"Months ago. I asked my assistant Carol to arrange it," Jeff said nervously. "Is this going to cost me?"
"Oh, yeah," Raoul Kramer said. "It's going to cost you big-time. You take the kids off too?" But he knew the answer to that even as he spoke.
"Yeah, but they never get sick. And I never knew Nora to get sick in all the years we were married. Isn't there some law or something that says I can refuse to pay for her care?" Jeff asked.
Raoul Kramer picked up his phone and punched in a number.
"Who are you calling?" Jeff wanted to know.
"Your assistant. Carol? Raoul Kramer. Did you remove Mrs. Buckley and the kids from Jeff's health insurance? I see. Yes. You're a smart lady. If you ever get tired of working for your boss, call me." He laughed. "Thanks." And put his phone down. "You owe Carol a big one, Buckley. When she read the draft of the settlement for you, she saw that Mrs. Buckley would get health insurance for five years. She arranged it, and in doing so has saved your ass. For God's sake, don't do anything else without checking with me first."
"So it isn't going to cost me?" Jeff wanted reassurance.
"You're home free," Raoul Kramer replied.
"But I can't get the divorce until Nora either wakes up or croaks, right?"
"Right," Kramer said. What a moron this guy was. He expected the ultrarich, whom he usually acted for, to be tight with a dollar, but this guy was just a dumb boomer who had made more money than his father and thought he was rich. "I would suggest you go out to Egret Pointe and get Nora's prognosis from her doctors. Let me know how she's doing, and we'll go from there." His tone was dismissive, and even Jeff got the point.
He stood up. "Yeah. I'll go see what's happening." While driving out to Egret Pointe, Jeff Buckley wondered if Nora would live or die. Kramer was right. The divorce had to be put on hold until they knew. How would it look to his conservative partners at the agency if he divorced his sick wife? More important, how would it look to their clients? There was so much to consider, not to mention Heidi. Heidi was not going to be happy about this delay. There had already been too many delays. He put himself out on a limb with that damned co-op in order to make her happy and to keep her from leaving him. He couldn't bear it if she left him. Heidi was the best damned sex he had ever had. She knew how to thrill a man and keep him coming back for more. He couldn't lose her.
Because Nora had not really been a part of his life in the city, he had been able to keep his divorce discreet, more or less. His partners, older men married for years, hadn't been happy, but he had brought them around, selling them a bill of goods that salved their consciences, making him the victim in the matter. But they wanted everything to be circumspect, controlled, and careful. It was to be quick with no, or at least minimal, gossip involved. There were their clients to consider. It was the youngest of the senior partners, Mr. Archibald Wickham, who had suggested Raoul Kramer. And he had spoken to Raoul himself before sending Jeff to see him.
And he'd done a good job, Jeff had to admit, even if he hated giving up a penny to Nora. Heidi was right. Nora had been living off of him for twenty-six years. In the beginning she had been just the wife he wanted. She was just like his mother: docile, quiet-spoken and frugal. She had made a beautiful home, and kept it nicely. She had produced two children, a daughter and a son. They were intelligent and well-mannered. But as the years had passed he realized that Nora wasn't at all what he wanted. She bored him. And in bed she had not been inspiring at all. How could a woman be so damned dull? he wondered. And now the old cow had thrown a monkey wrench in his plans by getting sick. If she didn't recover from whatever it was that she had, he was going to be stuck with her for the rest of his life. Would he lose Heidi? But maybe Nora would die.
He was so deep in thought that he almost missed the parkway turnoff to Egret Pointe, but he managed it, his brakes squealing just slightly as he cornered the turn. The hospital was nearby. He hadn't been to Egret Pointe General since J. J. was born. He swung into the lot and parked his sports car. He found a Pink Lady manning the desk.
"I am Jeff Buckley. My wife, Nora, was brought in this morning."
"Buckley. Buckley," the Pink Lady repeated, going down the list. "Ah, here it is. Buckley. She's in the ICU, but no visitors, Mr. Buckley. Still, if you're her hubby, I suppose no one would mind. Three West is the ICU. Take this card." She handed him an index card with the words ICU VISITOR stamped on it in black. The edges of the card were frayed.
"Thank you," he said, giving her his best smile.
The elevator opened on the third floor. Immediately in front of him was a sign with arrows pointing in various directions. THREE WEST was the heading. CCU was to the left, and ICU was to the right. Jeff turned right, and hurried through a pair of swinging doors.
"Jeff!" He turned to see a small lounge. Rick and Carla were in it. He turned again, and went in to greet them. Carla just glared, but said nothing. "What happened to her?" Jeff asked.
"They don't know," Rick said quietly. "I was to pick her up this morning to drive into town to Kramer's office. When she didn't show up, I called first but didn't get any answer, so I went over. I rang the bell. I knocked. I called her. Nothing. So I went back home and got a spare key. We all have keys for the other houses on the court," Rick explained, knowing Jeff wouldn't have known that. "I let myself into the house. Both cats shot by me. We'll have to get them in later. I called her name, but the place was as silent as a tomb. So I started searching the house. I went upstairs first, and when I couldn't find her, I came back down to look around there. I found her in the den.
"She was in her chair, in front of the television. It was still on, but no picture. She must have ordered a movie, and whatever happened to her happened while she was watching it. Her teacup was tipped over. There was no sign of forced entry, or violence. I called emergency, and they brought her to the hospital," Rick concluded.
"Did she try to commit suicide?" Jeff asked. "Did you see any pills?"
"You know Nora doesn't take anything stronger than aspirin," Carla finally spoke up, "or maybe you don't. You've never been around much. Besides, Nora wouldn't kill herself over you." The last word was said in a scornful tone.
"What do the doctors say?" Jeff wanted to know.
"We're waiting for Dr. Rhone now," Rick answered. "He's the ER guy."
"I'll wait with you," Jeff said.
Carla made a rather rude noise but said nothing more for the time being.
The doctor arrived. He looked to Rick and spoke, but Rick quickly introduced Jeff to the physician, who said, "I didn't realize Mrs. Buckley's husband was still alive."
Carla laughed aloud.
"We're in the process of a divorce," Jeff said. "Rick is my wife's attorney, and should be told anything that concerns her health. I'll be driving back into town shortly. I just came out when I heard the news."
"Oh," Dr. Rhone said. "Well, the preliminary tox reports are in. There is nothing in her system that would indicate she took any harmful substance. Not even an aspirin. She doesn't appear to have had a stroke, although those are difficult to pinpoint actually, so it might be she stroked out, but the MRI shows nothing. Other than that, I have no answers. Her vitals are good. But Dr. Sam will know more. He's her regular guy."
"She isn't dying?" Jeff asked.
"Not at all," Dr. Rhone replied. "She's simply unconscious, and we can find no cause yet. But I'm sure we will. And she could wake up at any time. Tell me, Mr. Buckley, has this divorce proceeding been particularly stressful for Mrs. Buckley? Stress is something we're learning more about every day. It seems to be able to do just about anything to a body and mind's well-being."
"You bet, she's been upset," Carla burst forth. "Wouldn't you be if after twenty-six years of devotion and love, you were told you were being replaced by a Heidi, who is young enough to be your daughter?"
"Carla!" Rick pleaded.
Dr. Rhone looked uncomfortable. "About your wife's care, Mr. Buckley," he began. "Since you aren't here, would you like to sign a document delegating your wife's attorney to make any decisions that need to be made?"
"Sure," Jeff said. He turned to Rick. "That's okay with you?"
"Yeah," Rick told him. "I'm here. You're not. What about her health insurance? Has the divorce policy kicked in yet?"
"Call my assistant, Carol. She's got all the particulars, but yes, Nora is covered," Jeff said. He turned back to the doctor. "Can I see her?"
"Certainly, come with me," Dr. Rhone replied.
Jeff followed the physician into the ICU, where Nora lay quietly in a neatly made hospital bed. He looked down at her. She looked younger than she had last spring. And she had colored her hair. He figured she'd be going fishing for another husband once they were parted. And she was a heck of a lot thinner. There was even a slight smile on her face. She was very still. She actually looked as if she were sleeping, and having a very nice dream while she did. He turned away. Wake up, or die, damnit! the voice in his head said. "Let me sign that paper now so Rick can have the responsibility of her care," Jeff said, and returned to the waiting room.
"I'll have a nurse bring you the papers," Dr. Rhone told him. Then he was gone.
"You're certain you don't mind doing this?" Jeff asked Rick one more time.
"He doesn't mind!" Carla snapped. "Nora and I are best friends. Who else is here who can look after her?" You schmuck, she thought silently.
Jeff signed the papers and handed them back to the waiting nurse. "Look, Carla," he said, but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.
"It isn't the divorce that bothers me, Jeff," she said. "It's what a son of a bitch you have been about it. All she wanted was the house. She deserved it. She wanted nothing else from you. No alimony. Nothing. Just the house."
"I don't want to start with another mortgage at my age," he said.
"Hey, you're starting with another wife. And don't think she won't want at least one kid, Jeff. She will. If you play, honey, you gotta pay. But Nora shouldn't have had to pay for your libido, and your big whopping midlife crisis. Whatever has happened to her is your fault. She's lying there right now because of you. I hope you're satisfied! Now run home to Bambi, or whatever the hell her name is. Just don't let me ever see your face again!" And Carla began to cry.
Jeff Buckley looked distinctly uncomfortable. He had never understood his wife's friendship with Carla, a smart-mouthed city kid— an Italian Catholic, for God's sake. And the others. Rina Seligmann, a Jewish social worker. Joanne, who was the wife of a hardware store owner. Tiffany Pietro d'Angelo, that hot little blonde who had kneed him once when he had come on to her. Good riddance to them all. Rick was comforting his wife. Jeff caught his eye. "Thanks," he said, and then he left. He could hardly wait to get back to town, but telling Heidi wasn't going to be easy.
"Is he gone?" Carla asked, sniffling into her husband's shoulder.
"Yeah. You sure gave it to him," Rick chuckled.
"He's a bastard!" Carla muttered.
"Agreed," Rick said. "I think he was hoping she would die. I really do."
"Nora's not going to die!" Carla said. No, she wasn't. Right now she was having a very good time in The Channel. Carla almost smiled. When Nora got back, she'd tell her how she had told off Jeff. Yet seeing her best friend lying in the ICU bed so still and fragile-looking was not easy. She did look as if she were sick, and it scared Carla just a little bit. Was Nora really alright?
"Let's go home, honey," Rick said. "There isn't anything we can do right now." He put his arm about his wife. They stopped at the nurse's station, and Rick gave the charge nurse his card. It had all his numbers. His office. The house. His cell. His e-mail. "Call me if there's any change," he told her, and she nodded.
Carla called Jill and J. J. that night. Both of them wanted to come home immediately, but Carla told them there was nothing they could do, and warned them that Nora would have a fit if she woke up and her kids weren't in school, where they belonged. "I'll keep you up to speed," she told them both, and they agreed to remain where they were for the interim. Next she called Margo.
"I just talked to her yesterday," Margo said, suddenly sounding very frail. "She didn't try . . ."
"No!" Carla said quickly.
"What about the divorce?" Margo asked.
"Everything is on hold for now."
"I'll come up," Margo said.
"If you want to, and you can stay with us," Carla replied, "but honestly, there's nothing you can do right now, and she could wake up any minute." Carla hated lying to Nora's mother, but she couldn't possibly explain what Nora had done.

BOOK: Private Pleasures
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