Good Intentions

by Joy Fielding

  “I have a wonderful crabmeat salad in the refrigerator for later. Made it myself this morning.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  “Good. I did it to impress you.” He winked, and she understood the gesture was inherited.

  “Where do you write?”

  “I have a desk set up in my bedroom. Care to have a look?”

  “No,” Lynn said quickly. She should never have agreed to come here. He could rape her and no jury in the world would convict him. “I thought it was what she wanted,” she could hear him tell a crowded courtroom. “Why else would she go to my apartment? She knew my intentions were less than honorable.” How many times had she advised young women not to put themselves into positions like this? Where were her brains? More importantly, where was her self-control?

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked.

  “That this is really a depressing place,” Lynn answered, taking a quick look around. “Why don’t we get out of here? I’m not really very hungry.”

  “You said you were famished.”

  “Actually I was just thirsty.” She held up her Coke, taking a long sip for emphasis.

  “What about my crabmeat salad?”

  “What about a picnic on the beach?”

  “Sounds great. Can I finish my beer first?”

  “Oh. Oh, sure. Of course.”

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  “No. No. I’m very comfortable standing.”

  “You don’t look very comfortable.”

  Lynn took another sip of her drink, wishing he would do the same with his. “What do your boys think of the place?”

  He laughed. “They think it’s great.”

  Lynn looked at the unadorned mustard-colored wall across from where she stood, realizing she had never even seen the house in Gulfstream that Gary had temporarily rented.

  “Of course, it’s quite a switch from where they’re used to living.”

  “Must be quite a switch for you too.” Lynn tried to picture how Gary must have felt upon abandoning their house on Crestwood Drive, how he must feel each time he returned to it. Of course, Gary had chosen to leave. Marc had been given no such choice.

  “You get used to everything,” he told her. “Besides, Suzette’s home was never my home. For years I tried to pretend it was, but the truth is that I was always just a visitor there, a boarder with special privileges, if you will. Suzette’s parents bought and paid for that house, the same way they bought and paid for everything their daughter wanted. The princess is supposed to live happily ever after, remember?” He shrugged, and took a long sip of his beer. “After her parents were killed, she wanted no part of the house. Said it had too many memories. So we started looking for a new house.” He laughed. “We found a little more than I bargained for.” Lynn watched his free hand form a fist. “Come on, let me show you my etchings.”

  Lynn had no time to object. Marc’s arm was at the back of her elbow, half guiding, half pushing her down the narrow hall. “Is this where the boys sleep?” Lynn asked, braking to a halt outside a small brown-and-yellow room whose twin beds were all but hidden by stuffed dinosaurs and model airplanes. Lynn walked inside the room, pretending to study the collection of Hardy Boys mysteries that lined the small bookshelf along one wall. “They’re a little young for these, aren’t they?”

  “They were mine,” Marc confessed, a bit sheepishly. “I saved them, actually brought them with me when I moved down from Buffalo. I used to love the Hardy Boys.”

  “I’m a Nancy Drew fan myself,” Lynn told him, and laughed. “Megan is reading them now.”

  “And they ask what makes a classic.”

  He was moving closer. “What’s that?” Lynn asked.

  “What’s what?”

  Lynn pointed to what looked like a large fish tank, something long and black lining its bottom. “That.” She edged closer, out of arm’s reach.

  “Oh, that. That’s Henry.”

  “Henry?” Lynn was almost on top of it when she saw it move, and she realized that Henry was a snake. “Oh my God.”

  “You don’t like snakes?”

  “I like things that jump,” Lynn said, feeling squeamish, not sure which way to turn. “Snakes don’t jump.” She pushed quickly past him into the hall, then turned right, finding herself in the master bedroom. “Wrong turn,” she said, aware that he was behind her, his large frame blocking the doorway. He began moving closer.

  “Marc, I don’t think this is a good idea.”

  “You want me to take a blood test?” He smiled and so did she.

  “That’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “The point is I shouldn’t even be here.”

  “I know, your lawyer advises against it.”

  “I’m too old for games, Marc.”

  “I’m not playing games. How much more straightforward can I be, Lynn? I want to make love to you. I think you want to make love to me. Am I wrong?”

  “It’s not as simple as that.”

  “Why isn’t it?” He took another step forward; she took an immediate step back. “Hey,” he said, stopping, standing absolutely still, his hands in the air as if a gun were at his back. “I’m not about to do anything you don’t want me to do.”

  “I don’t know what I want you to do,” Lynn admitted honestly.

  “You have to make up your mind. You have to tell me what you want.”

  Lynn closed her eyes, wishing she knew. Even with her eyes closed, she could feel the intensity of his gaze, the strength of his desire for her. Her body ached to respond. It had been so long since anyone had desired her. She saw herself lying beside Marc in the back seat of his father’s car, felt him removing her blouse, his lips at her breasts. Her body swayed toward him. A loud noise filled the apartment. Lynn opened her eyes. “What’s that?” she asked, pulling her shoulders back, straightening her spine.

  “The front door,” Marc explained as the telephone began to ring. “And the telephone.” He smiled. “Must be what they mean by ‘saved by the bell.’ I’ll get the phone if you’ll answer the door.”

  Lynn walked purposefully toward the front door as Marc headed for the phone in the kitchen. “She is? Now?” she heard him say, her hand on the doorknob. “It’s the doorman,” Marc called to her. “He says that the woman who was here earlier is on her way up.”

  Lynn pulled open the door. Suzette Cameron stood, stunned and openmouthed, on the other side.

  SIXTEEN

  Renee stared at her reflection in the mirror and thought she looked pretty damn good. She’d spent the morning at the hairdresser’s and she thought her new shorter hair well suited her round face. It hugged the sides of her cheeks, ending just below her ears, and Renee thought it flattering and youthful. Similarly, her new emerald-green lounging outfit was slimming and understated. Understatedly overpriced, she thought, pulling in her stomach, grateful that her new clothes made a concerted effort to disguise what needed to be hidden while accentuating her more positive attributes. The top of the outfit allowed for an admirable display of cleavage, and the fabric drew down from her bosom in lines that made her waist appear small and girlish. It was worth all the money she’d paid for it, she thought, checking the clock next to her bed, wondering whether Kathryn would be dressed by the time Philip was out of the shower and ready to go, wondering whether it had really been a good idea on Philip’s part to insist that Kathryn come with them to the party.

  Kathryn wouldn’t know anyone, and she had confided to Renee a nagging feeling of guilt. It was too early after Arnie’s death to be going to parties, she had told Renee adamantly when Renee first suggested Kathryn accompany them. So Renee had been very surprised when Philip had been able to change her mind. Not that she should be surprised, she thought. She knew how persuasive Philip could be. Still, she sensed Kathryn’s unease and determined to stay close to her all night to make sure she had a good time. The only problem with staying at Kathryn’s side, how
ever, was that it left Philip’s side dangerously empty. There would be too many women at tonight’s party willing to fill that space.

  Renee fastened her heavy gold necklace around her throat, feeling it cold against her warm skin. She had to banish such thoughts. She had to learn to trust her husband or, as he had told her, there was surely no hope for their relationship. Tonight would mark a new beginning. She would show Philip that she could be everything he wanted, everything he needed. And she would show him this by leaving him alone, letting him wander, letting him engage in the mindless, meaningless flirtations that this kind of party inevitably encouraged. She would go her way and let him go his. When they met together at the end of the evening, it would be without the usual jealousies and recriminations she always inflicted on them. Tonight, she decided, she would fasten her energies on Kathryn.

  There was a small knock on the bedroom door. “Kathryn?” Renee asked, knowing it could only be her sister, since Debbie was already out for the evening with friends.

  “I can’t get the back of this thing done up,” Kathryn said, tiptoeing into the room on her bare feet and swiveling around to reveal a large, exposed triangle of skin in the middle of her dress.

  “What back?” Renee asked good-naturedly.

  “There. At the top.” Kathryn’s hand reached up behind her shoulders, but her fingers failed to reach the clasp. Renee quickly slipped the tiny loop around the appropriate button. “What do you think?” Kathryn executed a delicate spin, her hands holding out the sides of the calf-length white dress to better show off its full skirt.

  “Pretty daring,” Renee said, taking note of how revealing the dress actually was, while appearing initially, especially from the front, to be quite modest and conservative. It was white, almost virginal, with its high neck and long skirt. It was only when Kathryn turned that one saw the deep plunge underneath each arm, revealing an exposed curve of breast, and the back of the dress was virtually nonexistent, except for the small clasp at the top of the spine. It dipped so low under the waist that Renee wondered momentarily whether Kathryn was wearing panties, but she thought better than to ask. Kathryn was self-conscious enough without adding to her worries.

  In truth, the dress was lovely, and Renee realized that Kathryn could effortlessly afford to expose what she herself went to great lengths to hide. She also realized she was more than a touch envious, and she frowned.

  “Not appropriate?”

  “It’s lovely,” Renee told her truthfully. “Is it new?”

  “I bought it with Debbie that day we all went to lunch. Remember?”

  Renee nodded vaguely. She preferred not to think about that day. She stared into the mirror, saw Alicia Henderson flutter her fingers in her direction. Would she be at the party tonight?

  “Listen,” Kathryn was saying, her voice so low it was almost a whisper, “I’ve been thinking again that maybe I shouldn’t go to this party tonight. I won’t know anyone, and I’ll only hold you and Philip back, keep you from having a good time.”

  “Don’t be silly. After two minutes, you’ll know everyone as well as I do. Trust me,” she said, wondering why she was using that expression, “you’ll have a good time.”

  “I don’t want to be an imposition.”

  “You won’t be.”

  “I’ve been enough of an inconvenience to you already.”

  “Says who?”

  “Nobody has to say anything. You’re all much too nice for that. That’s your problem. You end up getting stuck with people like me. But I’ve been here over a month, and you have your own lives to get on with.”

  “Please don’t talk about leaving. Don’t even think about it. I want you to stay as long as you want to stay.” Renee was only now starting to realize how good it felt to have her sister around. Kathryn supplied a warmth that had been missing from her life for too long. Despite the added stress of Kathryn’s presence, Renee didn’t want her sister to leave.

  “Wow!” came the masculine voice from the small hallway that joined the bedroom to its ensuite bathroom. Philip entered the bedroom wearing nothing but a large white towel wrapped expertly around his lower torso, rubbing another towel through his wet, dark hair. Both women turned expectantly toward him. “That’s quite a dress, Kathryn. Turn around and let me see.” Kathryn did a quick spin, her cheeks slightly flushed. “Great dress,” he said, looking toward Renee. Renee pushed back her shoulders, eagerly waiting her turn to be praised. “Renee, don’t you have a pair of earrings that would go great with Kathryn’s dress?” Renee looked toward the dresser, where she kept her jewelry box. “You know, the ivory-and-silver ones with the big loops. I think they’d be the perfect touch. Your ears are pierced, aren’t they?” He moved to Kathryn’s side and brushed her long hair away from her ears.

  Renee opened the top dresser drawer, seeing Philip’s gun beside the jewelry case, quickly covering it with some silk scarves. She had moved the gun there after Debbie had revealed its former location. Had Kathryn seen it? she wondered, aware of her sister’s eyes on her hands as she opened the jewelry box and retrieved the earrings.

  “Yes, sure, these will be perfect.” Philip took the earrings from Renee’s outstretched hand. “Here, try these on.” He handed them to Kathryn, then stood back and watched Kathryn fit them through her ears. “What did I tell you? Absolutely perfect.”

  “What do you think, Renee?” Kathryn asked.

  “They’re perfect,” Renee agreed, thinking that they were. “Philip is right again.”

  “You don’t mind if I wear them?”

  “Of course she doesn’t mind,” Philip answered for her.

  “I really love them.” Kathryn studied her reflection carefully in the mirror, obviously delighted by what she saw.

  “Now, we’ll just have to find something for you,” Philip said, smiling at Renee.

  “What’s wrong with the ones I have on?” Renee fingered the heart-shaped pearl-and-gold earrings she had earlier selected.

  “No pizzazz. Too conservative. How about these?” He reached into Renee’s jewel box and pulled out a dangling pair of black onyx and rhinestones.

  “I thought that with the gold necklace …” Renee began.

  “Take off the necklace. It’s not right with that outfit anyway. It makes you look too much like a dowager empress. You need a little bit of fun in your wardrobe, Renee. You’re turning into an old lady.” He said all this with a lilt of good humor, his smile never leaving his face. Then he turned back to Kathryn. “What shoes are you going to wear?”

  “I thought a pair of white flats.”

  “Perfect. And what’s that perfume you have on?” He lifted her hair away from her ear for the second time and buried his nose in her neck.

  “I can’t remember the name.” Kathryn blushed. “It was a free sample.”

  “It’s great. You should loan some to Renee.”

  “I’m already wearing perfume,” Renee said before her sister could offer, hoping her voice didn’t betray the tears she felt hovering close by.

  She had really thought she had chosen well this time, selecting an outfit she was sure Philip would like, trying to see herself through his eyes as she preened and fussed before the fitting-room mirror. She should have asked him to come with her. She knew what wonderful taste he had. He was always telling her he knew how to put her together better than she did, and it was true. Philip was the one in the family with the artistic eye. He knew instantly what would go well with what. He loved going into stores, watching her try things on. He enjoyed having a say in what she bought, helping her choose.

  How many women had told her how lucky she was to have a husband who was interested in such things? What I wouldn’t give! they all said. She should have taken him along when she bought this outfit. Then he would have advised her against it before it was too late, before she purchased something that made her look like a dowager empress, that turned her into an old lady. “Do you think I should change?” she asked him after Kathryn ha
d returned to her own room.

  “Too late now,” he said, and disappeared into the walk-in closet to get ready for the party.

  “Your sister is so beautiful,” someone was saying as Renee reached across the long buffet table for a second kiwi tart. “And so thin,” the voice continued as Renee popped the small tart into her mouth in its entirety. “I guess you have to be thin to wear a dress like that.”

  Renee fought the urge to help herself to yet another dessert, feeling Philip’s disapproving eyes on her even though he was on the other side of the room and, when last she looked, totally absorbed in a conversation with her sister. She turned to face the woman who was speaking, recognizing her as her hostess, Melissa Lawless, a woman of approximately sixty years of age, whose husband was a respected cardiologist. “Yes, she is beautiful,” Renee agreed, locating her sister as she was about to step out onto the patio, Philip still at her side.

  “I always wanted to be thin like that,” Melissa Lawless continued. “Thin but round, if you know what I mean. I could never understand how girls as thin as your sister got to have such full bosoms. I had the full bosom,” she said, taking note of Renee’s similar attribute, “but I was just as full everywhere else, if you know what I mean.”

  “You have a beautiful house,” Renee told her, wishing to leave the full-figured discussions to Jane Russell.

  “We like it,” came the automatic reply. “I’m so glad you were able to talk your sister into joining us tonight. I understand she’s had some recent tragedy in her life.”

  Renee was caught off guard by the woman’s assertion. Who had told her anything about Kathryn’s problems? Surely not Philip, she thought, knowing it could hardly have been anyone else. “Yes,” Renee answered, formulating her words carefully. “Her husband died.” Of course her hostess must be referring to Arnie’s death.

  “I understood that she tried to kill herself,” Melissa Lawless continued as pleasantly as if she had just said that she understood it was going to be sunny the next day.