THE GREAT PRETENDER Page 6

  Exiting at Miami Gardens Drive, she drove east to Dixie Highway. When she reached his street, adrenaline began to shoot through her veins. Olivia braced herself for the worst. This is it. If that nasty whore is there again, Sean can shove his excuses up his ass.

  Sure enough, when Olivia made it to his building, there sat the infamous red Honda, yet again, with the all-too-familiar Mardi Gras beads dangling from the rearview mirror.

  She haphazardly threw her Camry into the parking space beside it—ignoring the fact that it was reserved for handicapped drivers—and slammed the door in haste.

  Reaching Sean’s apartment, Olivia pounded the front door repeatedly with the usual result—there was no answer. But she decided not to give up quite so easily this time. Returning to the parking lot, she crossed her arms and leaned against her car to wait until Vincent got home. It was Friday, and she knew he left work at eight.

  At approximately eight twenty-five, Olivia spotted Vincent’s Mercury. When he parked, she jogged over to meet him before he even removed his seat belt.

  “Vinnie, what’s going on?” she beseeched, her voice full of anxiety. “What’s Jackie doing here with Sean, and why won’t anyone answer the door?”

  Vincent released the seat belt and motioned for Olivia to step back, giving him room to open the door.

  “Vincent? Come on…tell me what’s going on! I need the truth. Is he still seeing her?” Despite her will to keep them at bay, tears filled her eyes.

  “Olivia, I don’t want to get involved in this confusion with you and Sean,” he said, moving around her.

  “I’m coming in with you,” she said, falling in step beside him. “I’m coming in to find out what the hell is going on.”

  “Look,” he said, coming up short. “I’m going to be honest with you here, okay?” He gave her a rueful look.

  “Please, Vinnie, that’s all I want. Is he still seeing her?” Olivia didn’t know how much longer she could keep the floodgates from opening full on. Her twenty-one-year-old heart was pounding like a sledgehammer as she waited for his next words.

  “Don’t do this to yourself anymore.” Vincent looked her directly in the eyes. “It’s been my experience that if you suspect something like that, it’s probably true.”

  Olivia felt like her insides had been hollowed out.

  Damn it!

  “How long, Vinnie?” she asked quickly. “How long has Jackie been back in the picture?”

  “Olivia, go on home now, okay? There’s nothing here for you but more grief.” He turned and walked away.

  Olivia caught up with him just as he started up the stairs. “I’m coming in with you. I want to hear what he’s got to say to me now.”

  “Did you hear what I said? Why do you want to continue hurting yourself? I’m telling you in plain English that you’re wasting your time with Sean. Our entire family knows that he’s only loved one woman and one woman only, and that’s Jackie. It’s always been Jackie. You just need to take this as a learning experience and move on, dear.” Vincent shook his head. Pity.

  “Vincent, after all he’s put me through these last few months, he owes it to me to look me in the eye and tell me the truth. Now, I’m going in with you!” She climbed up the stairs ahead of him and waited in front of their door.

  “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’ll just learn the hard way,” Vincent said, joining her at the doorway. He shuffled with his keys and opened the door. Olivia followed him inside.

  There was no questioning that Sean and Vincent were horrible decorators. The living room consisted of a ghastly mahogany-colored sofa and a hideous blue pinstriped loveseat that Olivia assumed were hand-me-downs. No piece of furniture in the room matched or complimented any other. To the right of the doorway was a tiny dining area that barely accommodated the two-chair Formica dining table. On the left was a slightly larger, all wooden kitchen.

  As she passed, Olivia noticed two empty wineglasses on the counter. Her adrenaline spiked again. Before she could get any farther, Vincent stepped ahead of her and knocked on Sean’s room door, which was on the left side of the two-bedroom residence.

  “Sean, you awake?” he called, trying the knob and finding it locked.

  “Yeah, I’m up,” said Sean from the other side. “What’s up?”

  “Come on out here and talk to Olivia. She’s here to see you,” Vincent called out before turning back to Olivia, who was right on his heels.

  “Now, I’m going to my room and I don’t want to hear the racket, so please take it outside.”

  “Thanks for letting me in, Vinnie. You know I respect you very much. I’ll take it outside.” Her eyes never left Sean’s door.

  Vincent walked across the living room and closed his bedroom door behind him.

  Olivia stood rooted to the spot, waiting for Sean to open the door.

  But he never did.

  She stood there, listening and waiting. When she came to the hurtful realization that he was not going to come out at all, she began banging rapidly on the door.

  “Open the door, you bastard! Open the door and face me!” she screamed, pounding away. “I don’t care if you have your slut in there with you, Sean! Just open the fucking door! Now!” She beat the door for nearly ten minutes, but Sean was ignoring her. He didn’t even acknowledge that she was there. She finally gave up and stormed out of the apartment without even closing the front door.

  So much for respecting Vincent. Fuck Vincent!

  Olivia descended the stairs two at a time and ran to her car. She recklessly backed out of the handicapped space and almost hit an approaching Buick. The floodgates gave way as she drove out of the complex. She made her way, dazed, along Dixie Highway. Unable to see the road clearly, she pulled into the parking lot of a deserted Bank of America.

  “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!” she chanted. He’d been making a complete fool of her all this time. Lying and cheating!

  It began to pour. Olivia was remotely aware of the pellets hitting her car. “Damn you, Sean Johnson! Damn you for making a fool of me! Oh, my God, oh, my God! Damn it!” she sobbed. “How could he do this to me? Why did he do this to me?”

  Over and over she pounded the steering wheel with her fists, which were already tender from the beating she’d given Sean’s bedroom door. She bawled and screamed in an attempt to release the agony, but there was no stopping the painful onslaught. There was a dagger lodged in the pit of her stomach.

  “I trusted you!” she screeched at the top of her lungs. “I believed in you!” The screams reverberated through the car.

  •

  Forty-five minutes later, Olivia raised her head from the steering wheel. She removed tissue from her glove compartment. Once she cleaned her nose and face, she started the car and headed home in the pouring rain. She just wanted to get into bed, and when Sean called—because she knew he would—he would find that she had activated the call-block feature on her private line.

  She tried her best to stop the incessant flow of tears as she turned onto Miami Lakes Drive. Although she was no longer wailing, tears poured uncontrollably down her cheeks, and she knew she looked like death.

  Pulling into the driveway, she pressed the garage door opener. She was relieved to see that her mother’s Cherokee was not there, but prepared to encounter Valerie as she entered the kitchen from the garage.

  As luck would have it, Valerie was in the kitchen, taking a slice of pizza from a Papa John’s box. “Hey, where’d you go? I ordered a fully loaded pizza,” said Valerie, not looking at Olivia long enough to notice her distressed state.

  “I’m not hungry, Val. I’m turning in early,” replied Olivia in a drained tone. She rushed for the stairs, not giving Valerie enough time to comment.

  Secured in her cozy pink room, she let the tears flow freely again. She rushed over to the caller ID, checking to see if Sean had called yet…although she knew he hadn’t, because he would have called her cell phone first.

  How come h
e hasn’t called?

  She went over to the stereo and put on a Color Me Bad CD. Then she dragged herself back over to the double doors and flipped the light switch, plunging the room into darkness. Finally, Olivia crawled into bed, curled into a fetal position, and sobbed into her pillow.

  Chapter 9

  Tracy Brooks held her hand in the air and scrutinized her well-manicured nails. Her nail tech, Josie, had polished them in a light, glittery brown, and she was happy with the result. She hadn’t thought she would like the color, but once applied, it was beautiful. It went perfectly with her highlights.

  “See? Didn’t I tell you this color would work?” said Josie with a smug grin on her face.

  “Thanks, Josie. It’s an excellent color. I guess you’re better with colors than I am,” said Tracy, laughing.

  Josie worked in the Nail Haven at the Miami Pines Mall, and Tracy, Olivia, and Valerie were three of her most faithful customers. She often gave generous discounts on all the services, and, in turn, they tipped her extremely well.

  Gazing at her nails, Tracy’s eyes fell to her wedding bands. Lately, she tried to avoid looking at them. Her involvement with Frank made noticing them a bad omen. You are still Reginald’s wife! they seemed to shout.

  Everything was going to change now that Reginald would be home more. She and Frank were accustomed to being together on most of the nights Reginald spent in Orlando. What would they do now? She’d never needed to lie to Reggie about her whereabouts as long as he was away, but now, that would certainly be changing. She would definitely have to lie. She would have to lie a lot.

  Tracy wondered if she could handle it…

  Thanking Josie, she said goodbye and moved over to a fan to dry her nails. At that moment, she knew she would go back on her word. She would telephone Frank. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t be the one to call this time. She wanted Frank to call her for a change. He knew when Reginald left for Orlando.

  However, it had been two days and he had not called her, even when he must’ve realized she wasn’t going to call him. Therefore, she was going to swallow her pride and call. They had lots to discuss.

  She needed to feel him out, discover exactly what his intensions were. Why was he attentive and tender one minute, but sneering and rejecting in the next? Why hasn’t he ever mentioned the prospect of her leaving Reggie? The possibility of a future together? They’d been seeing each other for nearly four years, yet Franklin had never said anything concerning the future. But then again, neither had she.

  And why should she? Shouldn’t the man initiate such a step? Tracy also wanted to find out how Frank felt about Reggie’s sudden urgency to be a family man.

  When her nails dried, Tracy gathered her purse and keys from the table where Josie had placed them, and headed for her Jeep.

  Her mind drifted to that haunting night. The night that started it all…

  •

  Reginald had been away in Orlando, and Frank had come to their rescue when Hurricane Donna was barreling down on the east coast of South Florida.

  Frank’s seduction had actually begun a few weeks prior to that night, with arbitrary and subtle romantic insinuations. Never one to cheat on her husband, Tracy had laughed, treating his attentions as innocuous teasing. Though she had always thought Franklin an attractive man, he was Reginald’s oldest friend, and she’d never had a romantic thought about him.

  Some doors were locked for a reason, and should never be opened.

  But on that rainy Saturday evening when Tracy and the girls couldn’t install the hurricane shutters on their own, Reginald had sent Frank to the rescue.

  Reaching category-five strength, Hurricane Donna packed winds in excess of 170 miles per hour, and Dade County was in the forecast track, facing the possibility of a direct hit. Reginald couldn’t get a flight in time, and the roadways were impossible due to the numerous mandatory evacuations. He told Tracy he would phone Frank and a couple of their neighbors to ask that they come over and help her secure the shutters.

  With the neighbors’ help, they all labored in the strong gusts of rain and wind to secure the entire house. The weather had worsened so quickly that Frank wound up staying with her and the girls to ride out the storm. Luckily, they never lost power, so for the next two days they watched lots of movies and ate lots of food. It was an enjoyable time.

  The house was dark since shutters covered every window and glass door. The rain came down in torrents; the thunder clapped. But they were all safe inside and having a good time together…

  Until the night Frank touched her.

  At first Tracy had been startled. She couldn’t believe it!

  She’d gone into the kitchen to put a bowl in the dishwasher, and he’d followed her with a drinking glass. With Valerie and Olivia laughing at Jim Carrey in the den, she and Franklin were alone. Isolated.

  “Tracy,” he’d said in a low voice.

  She had glanced over her shoulder, surprised anyone had followed her into the kitchen. “What’s up?” she’d laughed. “Haven’t had enough to eat yet?”

  Saying nothing, Frank had put his glass down and closed in on her. Taking the bowl from her hands, he gently pinned her arms to her sides. “Tracy.” He slipped an arm around her waist, bending close to her ear. “I can’t take it anymore. You know what I’m feeling…And I think you feel it, too.”

  She’d pulled away from him, so hard she nearly tripped. From a safer distance, she stared Franklin down. Tense seconds passed in silence.

  Then she slapped him—twice.

  “Don’t ever touch me like that again.” Then she turned and left the kitchen.

  Hurricane Donna had eventually veered to the north, grazing them with outer bands of heavy rain and tropical storm-force wind gusts.

  But an even deadlier hurricane had hit Tracy that night…and its name was Frank.

  •

  Now as she made her way home from the mall, she thought, Would I actually leave Reginald?

  She imagined Frank asking her to be with him…permanently. Would she do it?

  Yes, she thought. Yes, I think I would. I’d miss him…but I hardly know him anymore.

  In supplying the answer to her own question, Tracy realized that she would leave because she had apparently fallen out of love with Reginald. The love and passion she had for him before he took that Orlando assignment...well, they’d been stripped away by the last ten years. Who could blame her for accepting comfort elsewhere?

  Although she occasionally flew up to Orlando to be with Reginald while he was there, she’d grown into a woman with extraordinary needs, and he’d no longer been around to meet them. Years of that lifestyle had taken its toll, eventually leaving Tracy to gravitate toward Frank, who had lured her into open arms.

  The incident in the kitchen had lit a flame that still burned inside of Tracy. Frank knew it, and he preyed upon it. And Tracy succumbed.

  The first time they’d made love in his apartment, she’d felt like an adulterous slut. She avoided him for weeks thereafter, fraught with guilt. But as weeks turned into months, Frank inveigled her back into his bed. No one had to know; they were simply fulfilling each other’s needs… for the time being.

  That was almost four years ago.

  Maneuvering her Cherokee along Ludlam Road, Tracy thought of her daughters, wondering, What kind of mother does this make me?

  •

  Tracy was glad to see Olivia’s car in the driveway when she got home. She had hoped Olivia hadn’t gone out with Sean. She’d been meaning to talk to both Valerie and Olivia about their father’s decision to change his schedule. Tracy knew that Olivia nursed resentful feelings toward Reggie, but she was confident that, in time, that would mend. The last thing Tracy wanted was for the girls to resent their father—on top of everything else.

  In the kitchen, she noticed the pizza. Upon opening the box, she discovered that they’d left her zilch. Great…now I’ll either have to cook or order out, thought Tracy as she took t
he empty box into the garage.

  Back in the house, she found Valerie in the den with the cordless telephone tucked between her ear and shoulder.

  “Hey, Val,” she said, getting her attention. “Listen, call your friend back later. I need to talk to you and Olivia about something. Is she here?” When Valerie nodded, Tracy added, “I’ll go up and get her.”

  Valerie watched her mother leave. When she was sure Tracy was gone, she whispered into the telephone, “Listen, Debbie, we’ll finish talking about it when I call you back.” After a pause, she said, “Yeah, she said she wants to talk to both of us about something. I’ll tell you about it later. Bye.” Valerie placed the handset into its cradle.

  Upstairs, Tracy knocked for the second time on Olivia’s bedroom door.

  “Olivia, are you there?” She waited a moment and called again.

  “Yes, Mom, I’m here,” said Olivia, barely audible. “I was asleep.”

  “Well, I’m sorry I woke you up, but I want to talk to you and Valerie, so come on down.”

  “Mom, I’m really tired. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

  “Are you sure? I don’t want to wake up in the morning and find you gone. This is important.”

  “Okay, Mom…tomorrow.”

  Tracy descended the stairs and rejoined Valerie in the den.

  “What’s the matter with Olivia?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” replied Valerie. “You know how she is. She came in and just went straight into her room. She didn’t even eat any of the pizza I ordered, and it was fully loaded,” said Valerie matter-of-factly. “She probably had another fight with Sean. You know she acts like this when they fight.”

  “Speaking of pizza, how come you didn’t leave any for me?” asked Tracy, joining Valerie on the sofa.

  “Well, I didn’t know when you’d be coming home tonight,” replied Valerie with mock innocence.