THE GREAT PRETENDER Read online

  Deep down, Reginald Brooks knew the end was near. He himself would ultimately bring everything crashing down around both families.

  Olivia Brooks was also depressed.

  The moment she turned her Toyota Camry into the driveway and realized her father was home, she cringed.

  At twenty-one, Olivia was a very sharp, perceptive young woman. As such, she knew that there was more going on with her father than other people knew. He was always guarded—maybe even surreptitious—and she’d noticed it for years. Her father’s presence always made her uncomfortable, and she found it especially taxing to be around him when he returned from Orlando.

  Now as she opened the garage door, Olivia prepared to have his presence in the house. Oh, boy, she thought. Here we go…

  But to her surprise, neither her father nor anyone else was anywhere in sight.

  Good. I get to go straight to my room.

  When Reginald awoke, he could hear water running in the bathroom. He smiled as he rolled over and stretched his powerfully built body to its full height.

  Tracy was home.

  He left the bed and went into the bathroom to find his wife bent over the tub. She was drawing a bath. Saying nothing, he walked up close and wrapped his arms around her.

  His palms settled over her breasts.

  Tracy had heard Reginald enter the bathroom, and she mentally prepared herself for his attentions. She only wished she’d had time to do so physically. They were going to make love, and she was already tender from an encounter with Frank that afternoon. She knew it was foolish to see him on the very day Reginald was due back, but when Franklin was determined, he was difficult to resist.

  “You’re home?” she said.

  “Yeah,” replied Reginald. “Do you remember what I told you last night?”

  “Of course I remember, babe.” Tracy kept her back to him but smiled in spite of herself. “Has it been like Chinese algebra all this time?”

  Reggie chuckled. He pressed against her. “What do you think?”

  They made love in the large roman tub.

  Afterward, they showered, and Tracy wanted to faint. She ached beyond belief. She vowed to glue her legs together for a solid month.

  Later, when Reginald went downstairs to the kitchen for food, she lay on the bed and phoned Frank to set up their next interlude. She was disappointed when she got his voice mail…

  Downstairs, as she slipped a plate into the microwave, Olivia smelled her father enter the kitchen. He never wore anything that wasn’t made by Escada, and for that, there wasn’t a scent in the world she recognized more.

  “Hey, Liv, what’s up?” Reginald tapped her shoulder.

  “Nothing much,” she replied. She set the microwave for a minute and a half and then turned. “How long have you been home?”

  “Not long—a few hours. I was beat…I was practically asleep before I hit the bed.”

  Olivia crossed her arms. She willed the microwave to heat faster.

  “What’s for dinner?” asked Reggie, glancing at the stovetop.

  “Leftover salmon.” She rubbed her palms on her sleeves and gazed at nothing in particular…Their kitchen’s wallpaper was nice…The copper pots that hung over the island were very…copper. Olivia faced the microwave again.

  “You won’t believe what I managed to pull off,” said Reginald, checking out the saucepan of salmon. “I can hardly believe it myself, and I haven’t even said anything to your mother yet, but after this next trip to Orlando, I’m going back to my old schedule. I know I’ve been saying it for years, but the time has come…And the first thing I’d like us to do is plan a vacation! We all really need to spend some time together. It’s long overdue.”

  Olivia avoided eye contact. “What was your old schedule? I don’t remember anything but this.”

  “Well, I fly up once or twice a month for meetings and for oversight, and that’s only for a night or two each time. It’ll be rare that I’ll need to stay any longer than that. It’s going to be wonderful. We can make big plans…I figure we can take a long vacation to spend solid family time together.” Reggie spooned some rice. “You know, catch up on lost times.”

  How can you make up for ten whole years of “lost times”? Olivia thought.

  “Well, Dad, I have a lot of things to get done in the next few weeks. You know, with school and all.”

  “Oh, hold on there, Olivia. Are you telling me that you won’t be able to find two minutes to spend with your family? We haven’t really been able to spend much time together—me, you and Valerie—in years. You’ve got to make the time, Liv. You can always do some homework and studying on vacation if need be.”

  “I don’t know, Dad. I’m seriously busy. I have quite a few projects to do, and I have to spend a lot of time at the library doing research. I just won’t have the time. You should be able to understand, right?” With that, she took her plate from the microwave and left the kitchen.

  Reginald watched her go. As usual, he almost called her back, wanting to have it out with her, but he was afraid to. He feared the litany of accusations that may come out of her mouth if he broached the subject of her attitude toward him. He knew why Olivia avoided him.

  Up until now, Reggie had resigned to leaving things the way they were, to accept the change in Olivia. What was the use of trying to make things better when one day they could easily become so much worse?

  He looked out the kitchen window and noticed that the rain was still coming down in sheets. The weather mirrored his mood…

  He needed to see Franklin. He needed to unload some of this on him, bounce his plans off his number one confederate.

  I’ll call Frank first thing tomorrow.

  Chapter 3

  The following morning, Franklin Bevins decided to take a personal day from work. He needed a break, a day with nothing to do and no obligations. He just wanted to stay home and relax.

  He thought about calling Theresa but changed his mind, thinking: Why be bothered with anybody?

  He watched some of the morning talk shows and then called his office around ten a.m. to check messages. There was one from Reginald, saying he was back in town and needed to talk.

  After listening to the other messages, he reclined in his favorite beige chair and thought about Reggie…

  Lauderdale Lakes, Florida

  September 1982

  Sixteen-year-old Franklin Bevins paced the sidewalk outside Brooklyn’s pink-and-white apartment building on Twenty-ninth Street. He was livid. He had been dating Brooklyn for the past three months, and had just found out that she was dumping him for his best friend.

  “You and my goddamn best friend! You’re screwing Reggie! I don’t fuckin’ believe this shit!” Frank screamed.

  They were attracting too much attention. Two little old ladies opened their front doors and peeped out, a couple of guys hanging out under the stairs to avoid the sun stopped talking to watch and listen, and a young married couple looked on from the window of their ’75 Ford.

  “I’m sorry, Frank!” sixteen-year-old Brooklyn Speights screamed. “I’m sorry! I really like Reggie. You knew all along that Reggie was the one I really wanted.”

  “Oh, so you’ve just been balling me as a one-way ticket to Reggie?” Franklin’s voice dripped with anger.

  Shit! This can’t be happening, he thought. Not Brooklyn, Reggie—any girl but Brooklyn!

  Frank mentally calmed himself down. He could not lose Brooklyn; she meant everything to him. She was the first girl that he had ever felt this way about, and he felt like he loved her more than anything—even his idol, John Lennon! When he and Reggie first met her in the neighborhood diner, he had noticed that she’d shown more interest in Reggie, but he thought that had all changed these past few months. He and Reggie often sampled the same girls, but Reginald should’ve known that Brooklyn Speights was off-limits!

  Obviously feeling bad for Frank, Brooklyn began to cry. “Frank, I like you a lot—I do. But I’m not about t
o pass up on Reggie Brooks. I’ve been waiting for him to notice me for months…And now he has!”

  Nervously, Frank babbled, “I—I thought you liked me, Brooklyn. We’ve been having such a good time together. What happened? How did you and Reggie end up getting together, anyway?” Frank was desperate to keep her outside, to keep her talking to him. As long as she doesn’t walk away, I’ve got a chance, he thought.

  “Look, Frank, it’s over, all right?” Brooklyn seemed embarrassed that all the neighbors were watching, and Frank knew that news of the show would definitely get back to her parents. She seemed eager to get back in the house. She started to back up, away from the sidewalk, away from Frank.

  He panicked. Franklin ran up to her and grabbed her arm. “C’mon, Brooklyn, give me another chance. We’ve been great together. C’mon. Reggie has a whole bunch of girls, so you’re only gonna get used if you get mixed up with him anyway!” He was desperate. He was prepared to say or do anything to keep from breaking up with Brooklyn. She was one of the prettiest and most sought after girls at Byrd High, and he didn’t want to let her go. He’d die if he lost her. He’d just die, he knew it.

  Oh, God, don’t make me start crying in front of her, he prayed.

  “Oh, Frank, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go. My mom’ll be home soon.” She tried to slide her arm from his grasp. Then she drove her point home. “Bye, Frank. I’m Reggie’s girl now.”

  At that moment, Frank saw red. He let go of her arm, pulled back his fist, and punched the shit out of her.

  All hell broke loose.

  The little old ladies screamed and came running out, the married couple jumped out of their Ford, and the guys under the stairs ran over and two of them grabbed Frank.

  “Hey, man, what are you doin’?” shouted the tall one as he shook Frank like a rag doll.

  “Oh, is he crazy?” said the other one.

  Brooklyn—holding her jaw and sobbing—jumped off the sidewalk and ran into her apartment, slamming the door behind her.

  The next day when Reginald and Franklin were walking to school, Frank decided not to be the one to bring up Brooklyn. He didn’t have to wait long, though, before Reginald did…

  “So, I heard you got really upset with Brooklyn yesterday, Frank. What’s up?” asked Reggie.

  “Oh, you know…the tramp got disrespectful with me. She said she’d bet some other dude had a bigger dick than mine. Bad joke. Man, I just lost it. I mean, what right does a whore like her have talking to me like that to my face?”

  “Hold on,” Reggie said, coming to a halt. “She told me that you punched her in the face because she broke up with you.”

  “C’mon, are you really gonna believe that crap? The bitch is lying, Reggie. You really think she’d admit that she said something that foul? I wouldn’t count on it, hell no.” Frank couldn’t let anybody—especially not Reginald—think that he’d turned into mush over some girl—even if the girl was Brooklyn Speights.

  As expected, Reginald believed him and forgot all about it.

  Frank did not.

  His birthday came just a few days later on September seventeenth; he turned seventeen. His mother and his aunt Bertha threw a party for him, and he should have been happy, but he wasn’t. In fact, it took Frank more than a month to stop crying himself to sleep at night.

  Losing Brooklyn to Reginald hurt Frank more than anything else ever had. He missed spending time with her, talking to her on the phone, skipping school so they could sleep together—he just plain missed her. Now Frank not only had to sit back and watch Reginald with Brooklyn when they hung out, but he had to listen to his details about screwing her, since they always shared each other’s juicy experiences. And the worst part of it all: He had to pretend he didn’t care.

  The situation with Brooklyn Speights set the tone for the rest of their friendship, and as time went on, Frank lost several other girls to Reginald. Reggie was taller and older, and they found him more attractive, dubbing him the best-looking guy in school. Since Frank and Reggie were best friends, some of the girls only hung out with Frank to meet Reginald.

  Frank’s jealousy festered.

  He began to resent Reggie quietly—but so passionately it scared him at times. He could not let it show, though, because then he would seem weak. So he played it cool and hid behind a cloak of indifference.

  He started exercising and working out, determined to be buff. He even started keeping his hair groomed, cutting it short. But as the years passed and they grew older, Frank began to believe he would always come up short against Reggie.

  That is, until he managed to rope none other than Mrs. Reginald Brooks herself.

  Franklin pulled himself out of the past and sat up in his recliner. Over the years, he had nurtured those malicious feelings. They became irreversible. Reggie was too damned selfish and he never considered anyone else’s feelings but his own. For that—and for all the years of losing girls, and later even women, to Reggie—Frank felt more than justified in sleeping with Tracy. Therefore, he would go right on banging her until he’d had his fill and no longer wanted to be bothered.

  Frank smiled, thinking how willing Tracy was to be with him the second her husband left town, while he wanted her only because it was the best way to secretly stick it to the almighty Reginald Brooks. Having this clandestine relationship with Tracy gave Frank a deep, quiet satisfaction. It symbolized well-deserved payback for years of enduring Reginald’s countless triumphs over him.

  Frank went into his all-white kitchen and got a Budweiser from the refrigerator. As he savored the first sip, he focused on the television and settled back into his chair. He thought again about calling his ex-fiancée, Theresa, and decided he would—but later. Right now he was going to call his buddy Reggie and find out just what the next “crisis” was going to be.

  Ever since the seventies when they were teenagers, Franklin and Reginald shared everything with each other. Their parents had been neighbors in the same duplex, and they’d raised them as brothers. Over the years, though, Reginald’s dilemmas had gone from incredibly entertaining to utterly ridiculous, and eventually their lives had begun to take different paths. When Frank was ticked about not getting the model car he wanted, Reggie was plotting the best ways to cover up his mistress’ pregnancy. Hardly compatible problems.

  Grabbing the cordless phone from the coffee table, Frank dialed Reggie’s direct line at work.

  “Hart-Roman, Reginald Brooks speaking.” Reggie answered the phone just as his secretary, Dana, walked into his office.

  “Hey, Regg, I just got your message. Welcome back,” said Frank. “So, how’s the ever-so-sexy Renee?” Franklin had met Renee on several of her brief trips to visit with Reginald at the Fontainebleau, where she believed he lived while in Miami.

  “No, Frank.” Reggie held the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he handed Dana the invoices he’d just initialed. Keeping his voice low, he said, “You know I’m not talking about her over the phone…But we do need to talk. It’s about lunchtime, so what do you say we meet? How does Pollo Tropical sound?”

  “I didn’t go into the office, so I’m at home,” Frank replied. “I just didn’t feel like being bothered with any UPS bullshit today, you know?”

  When Dana was gone, Reggie exhaled and said, “Frank, I’m drowning. I’ve got some heavy decisions to make, and I need your help, friend.”

  “Well, why don’t you shoot over with some lunch and we can talk about it.” He paused before adding, “You sound serious. Are you all right?”

  “No. I’m not. That’s the problem.” Reggie stood, already slipping into his jacket.

  “Okay, come on over. I’ll be home all day.”

  “I’m on my way right now. What do you want from Pollo?”

  “Uh….get me two chicken sandwiches, boiled yuca with garlic, and a Pepsi,” he said.

  “Roger that. I’m leaving right now.”

  “Hey, and don’t forget—” Frank began, but he was reminding
the dial tone.

  Franklin placed the phone into its cradle, thinking, This should be interesting.

  Chapter 4

  Reggie felt relieved as he made a left turn onto Fontainebleau Boulevard and then into Frank’s complex, San Marco Apartments. He knew that once he unloaded on Franklin he’d have a much better perspective on things.

  Getting out of his Navigator, he set the alarm and walked up the two flights of stairs to apartment 210. He pressed the small, lighted button twice.

  After about ten seconds, Frank opened the door. “Hey, get in here, because I’ve been dreaming about those sandwiches.”

  Walking in, Reginald handed the food over to Frank and took off his jacket. He loosened his tie and sat in his usual armchair by the window. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on his hands. He was ready to unload.

  After stuffing it with yucca, Frank took a bite of his first sandwich. Then with a mouthful he said, “So, let’s hear it, man.” He sat straight up in the recliner as he chewed, fully attentive.

  Reginald got straight to the point. The story came out like a plea. “I’m planning to come clean. I just don’t know who to tell what—now, wait, let me finish.” He raised his hand when he saw the incredulous look on Franklin’s face. “Olivia practically hates me and that’s bad enough, but it seems to be getting even worse—she leaves a room within two minutes of my entering it, and I don’t even know if Valerie’s coming or going….I’m completely in the dark about her life. Tracy’s grown a bit distant. We used to be a couple that finished each other’s sentences…I miss that. Now it’s like we’re rotating in different orbits. And most of all, I’m just plain tired, Frank. I’m really over this life. Deep down I knew this would happen eventually, but I never really planned an exit, did I? I can’t keep this back-and-forth arrangement going any longer...and I realize that I just don’t want to live like this anymore.”