by Linda Wisdom
Throughout dinner, Michael chattered away about his day at preschool and repeated the new story his teacher had told the class. "Miss Karen told Miss Janice that Daddy's really cute and she'd like to be around to pick up the pieces," he said innocently. "What pieces is she talking about? Is something going to break?"
Valerie's fork clattered to her plate. "If you'll excuse me, I'm not hungry," she mumbled, rising to leave the table, but Sean's hand on her arm forced her sit back down in her chair.
"You won't need to wonder about it, son, because there won't ever be any pieces to be picked up," he said silkily, his eyes flashing a warning to Valerie. "So don't think about it anymore."
Her stomach rejected all thought of food. When Sara brought in dessert, Val quickly stood up, picking up plates and serving dishes. "I'll help you with the dishes." She hurriedly escaped to the kitchen. She tied an apron around her waist and began running the hot water, rinsing off the dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher. Sara came with the rest of the plates. She raised her eyebrows slightly but said nothing as she placed the dishes on the countertop next to the sink.
"Michael wants you to go swimming with them in an hour," she said casually. "The exercise will do you good."
"I'd like to start helping around the house since I don't have a job to go back to." Valerie's voice was just as casual as she changed the subject. "This is a large house and there's so much to do."
"I planned on thoroughly cleaning all of the guest rooms," Sara replied without hesitation. "We can start in the morning after the breakfast dishes are done."
The tension left Valerie's body; she turned and smiled at the older woman. "Thank you," she whispered.
Chapter Seven
By the time Michael, tired from his after-dinner swim, was bathed and in his pajamas, Valerie was as exhausted as her son. She tucked him under the covers, closed the door behind her, and walked outside to the patio.
Sean, wearing only his damp swim trunks, was seated on one of the lounge chairs, staring out over the pool. He looked up as she sat on the other chair and leaned back.
"Would you like some wine?" he asked quietly, reaching for the decanter and glasses Sara had set beside his chair.
"Yes, thank you." She accepted the glass of aromatic liquid.
"He go to sleep?" Sean bent his head slightly as he lit a cigarette, drawing on it deeply and then exhaling the smoke.
"He was asleep by the time I left the room." She sipped her wine.
Valerie was aware of how alone they were and of the quiet house behind them. Sara had left for her own room after bringing the wine out. She smiled wryly to herself, thinking that to an outsider they appeared to be a very happily married couple. Sean had talked to her more during these past days than he had at any other time. In San Francisco they had preferred to make love—to speak with their hands and lips. Her hand trembled at her thoughts as she raised the glass to her lips, gulping the wine.
"That's not water, you know." Sean's low, amused voice reached her ears.
"I'm not a child," she snapped defensively.
"Sometimes I wonder," he muttered, stubbing out his cigarette.
Valerie glanced at the rock-hard figure near her. Four years had not changed the broad chest or lean hips encased in dark navy trunks. He lit another cigarette, the orange flame from his lighter momentarily throwing his rangy features into shadowed relief. She remembered the first time she had seen him by the firelight at the beach. The ache in her body deepened to an undefinable pain.
"I'm going to bed." She set her glass down abruptly and leaped to her feet. She had reached the door when Sean's murmured "good night" reached her ears. As she opened the door she turned slightly, seeing him sitting on the lounger, a brooding expression on his face, as if his thoughts were far away. Once in her room, she quickly showered and then donned a shortie nightgown.
She was sound asleep when something woke her up. She shot up, pushing her hair from her face and looking around the darkened room, seeing only a faint sliver of light where the connecting door was ajar. She got out of bed, walking to the door and swinging it open. Sean was on the bed, propped up by pillows, reading. He looked up with surprise as she stood in the doorway. "I'm sorry. Did the light wake you?"
"No, I—uh—I don't know what woke me up." She shrugged her shoulders.
"Perhaps you had a nightmare," Sean said impersonally, returning to his book. "Do you have any sleeping pills left?"
"They leave me too groggy in the mornings. I don't like to take them."
"Then what do you want me to do?" Sean demanded tensely, placing a bookmark between the pages and laying the book on the night table. "Do you want me to tuck you in? To hold your hand until you fall asleep again?"
"I'm sorry I bothered you," she said crossly, turning away.
He swore fiercely under his breath as he got off the bed and stalked over, grabbing her arm and spinning her toward him. "Val," he sighed heavily, "you're not a sick little girl anymore, so this isn't a good idea."
The tip of her tongue appeared, wetting her lips. "Why not?" she asked huskily, raising her eyes to his face.
"You know very well why not." Sean sounded exasperated as he ran his fingers through his hair. "So just go back to bed."
A perverse notion kept her rooted to the spot. "I can't go back to sleep." Valerie's heart felt as if it would leap out of her body. She reached out to straighten the lapels of his robe. He grabbed her hands.
"You're playing with fire, infant," he growled. "Get out of here—now!"
"But I'm not an infant any longer, Sean," she protested, feeling the power she had over this man and over his emotions. "I have a son to prove it. Your son."
He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back before his lips descended on hers in a punishing kiss. He ruthlessly parted her lips, devouring the sweetness within. Valerie could feel her knees weaken and had to hold onto his lapels for support. His lips travelled down her jawline to her throat and he put one arm under her knees, picking her up to cradle her against his chest. Realizing his intent, Valerie momentarily panicked. "Sean?" she whispered, fear in her voice.
"You've gone too far this time, angel," he said grimly, dropping her on the bed and switching off the light before shedding his robe. "This time you'll have to pay the piper."
When he stretched out beside her, her arms curled around his neck, pulling him to her. Their passion, so long dormant, ignited to a roaring flame. Valerie lost all inhibitions as Sean's mouth and caresses induced a response which she freely gave. She was soon lifted to heights of ecstasy she had never dreamed of as he possessed her. Their hunger for each other diminished, they fell asleep in each other's arms.
♦ ♦ ♦
When Valerie awoke, the sun was streaming through the curtains onto the large bed. She stretched, a contented smile on her face. Her smile widened as she remembered Sean's lovemaking the night before and her own whole-hearted response. She sat up and looked around, found her nightgown on the floor, and slipped it over her head. She heard the sound of a shower running and soon shutting off. Sean walked into the bedroom, a toweling robe tied around his waist. He stopped short as he saw her smiling face.
"You're awake," he said unnecessarily. "Sorry if the shower woke you up."
"It didn't disturb me." Her smile disappeared as she noticed his uneasy stance. She wanted him to come over to her, to hold her in his arms and tell her he still loved her. After all, didn't last night prove that? "Sean, I—"
"No, me first, Val; I just want to apologize for last night."
"Apologize?"
"Yes, for taking advantage of you." His halting words chilled her heart. "After all, you hadn't had any wine for quite awhile, and it had obviously affected you. I should have insisted you go back to your own bed. There's no excuse for what I did. I can only say I'm sorry."
"Then all I was to you was an outlet for your manly urges?" Her lips twisted bitterly, causing him to wince as if with pain.
"Nothing that sordid,"
Sean said bleakly, refusing to meet her eyes.
Valerie scrambled out of the king-size bed, pushing aside the beige sheets. "Then I guess I should also apologize for thinking that your intentions were honorable. I'll be sure to stay out of your way from now on." Her head held high, she left the room without looking back.
Sean stepped forward, his hand outstretched as if to stop her, but he seemed to change his mind and checked himself.
Valerie closed the door behind her, deliberately flipping the lock. She showered away Sean's touch and then slowly dressed in jeans and a cotton T-shirt. She skirted the dining room, where she knew Sean would be breakfasting, instead using the door leading to the kitchen.
Valerie was grateful for Sara that day. She was able to forget her hurts when they decided to rearrange the living room. They pushed the furniture to the center of the room before deciding where to place the various pieces. She was pleased with the final results. The morning passed quickly until Sara called a halt for lunch. "I'll fix us something while you make up the beds." She walked toward the kitchen.
Valerie quickly made Michael's bed, then hers, before slowly entering Sean's room. She had only been there late at night, and this time she was able to examine it more fully. The king-size platform bed dominated the room; night tables of light-colored teak were attached to the headboard. A large chest of drawers was placed against one wall, while a large nine-drawer dresser stood opposite. It was obvious that the furniture was meant for a man and wife, and it appeared to be fairly new. She threw back the dark brown bedspread and quickly stripped off the sheets. She got clean sheets with tan, gold, and brown stripes from the linen closet and made up the bed, smoothing the bedspread over the sheets and pillows.
Then she entered the bathroom, still scented with his aftershave, and put out clean fluffy towels of a camel shade bordered with dark brown. She noticed that the cap was off the tube of toothpaste and smiled faintly, remembering the many times she had scolded him for doing that. Her smile disappeared in a look of pain. "Oh, Sean, why do you do this to me?" she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut to stop the tears. "Do you hate me that much?"
Late that afternoon, Valerie was peeling potatoes at the sink when Michael ran into the kitchen with Sean close behind. He raised an eyebrow at her and she bristled, aware that she wore no makeup, had on old, dirty clothes, and that her hair was untidy.
"Oh, Mommy, you look funny." Michael wrinkled his nose at her.
"That's because Sara and I moved furniture today." She planted a kiss on the top of his head.
"Should you be doing that?" Sean frowned with concern as he loosened the dark blue-and-gold-striped tie at his throat.
"For goodness sakes, I'm fine and healthy, not pregnant!" Valerie snapped irritably, then could have bitten her tongue when she saw the dark look on his face. The horror of it all was that for all she knew, she could be pregnant; and they both were aware of it.
"No, you're not, are you?" he said quietly, before striding out of the room.
Her only concession to dinner was to wash her hands and face and spray on a light perfume. She quickly brushed her hair, clipping it back from her face, then looked down at her jeans but defiantly decided to keep them on.
Valerie felt uneasy sitting at the table with Sean, but it appeared that he was equally uneasy around her. Her busy day had sharpened her appetite and she soon cleaned her plate.
"You keep that up and we'll have some meat on those bones yet," Sara said approvingly. "I'll do the dishes tonight. You just sit down and relax for a while."
"Play dominoes with me," Michael demanded. "Please."
"One game," she said firmly, "and one only. Then it will be time for your bath and bed."
"Aw, Mom." He screwed up his face.
"A bath," Sean said quietly in a voice meant to be obeyed.
"When I—"
"I know—when you grow up you're not going to take baths," Valerie and Sean said in unison, then looked at each other in surprise.
Later that night, she could see a sliver of light under the connecting door, evidence of Sean's wakefulness. She lay on her side, watching the faint light until her eyelids dropped with sleep.
Valerie was exhausted and when she finally awoke the bright sunlight announced that it was mid-morning.
"Oh, no!" she moaned, looking at her clock. She threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. A quick search of the house showed that it was empty; it was Sara's day off and she had planned to run some errands of her own. A note was propped against the coffeepot in the kitchen.
Didn't want to disturb you so we made our own
breakfast.
S.
Valerie poured herself a cup of coffee while debating how to spend her day. The shimmering pool looked inviting, but she knew she'd feel guilty later on for not keeping up with the housework. She spent the morning cleaning her bedroom, then putting the houseplants outside for a thorough soaking with the hose.
Later that afternoon, she collapsed in a chair, gratefully drinking a tall glass of iced tea. She looked up in surprise as the door chimes pealed softly. "Who can that be?" she wondered aloud, getting up and walking toward the front door. She opened the door to reveal a tall woman in her early thirties dressed in tight jeans and an equally tight gauzy cotton shirt. She stood on the doorstep, hands in her pockets, and long, sun-streaked, dark blonde hair tied back with a silk scarf. Large sunglasses were perched on top of her head as she smiled warmly at Valerie, seeming to remind her of someone, but the resemblance eluded her.
"Hi. Is Sean around?" she asked brightly.
"No, he's at his office," Valerie said cautiously. Was this another one of his girl friends? A new one, perhaps? After all, she hadn't seen Felicia for a while.
"You must be Valerie." The woman's tone was friendly. "Sean's written me about you."
"He has?" Now she felt completely confused.
"I'm Janine, his sister," she explained. "Didn't he ever tell you about me? Or am I the skeleton tucked away in the closet?" She gave an amused chuckle, her brown eyes dancing with mischief.
"Well, come on in," Val offered, relief evident in her eyes.
After carrying Janine's suitcases to her old room, the two women walked toward the kitchen. "How about something cold to drink?" Valerie asked.
"I'd love that. The air conditioning in my car hasn't been working all that well for the past hundred miles."
"Sean said you paint." Val opened the refrigerator door, bringing out a frosty pitcher.
"I guess you can call it that." Janine shrugged her shoulders.
"I saw some of your work at your house and it was beautiful," Valerie said sincerely, filling two glasses.
"Thank you. I need all the critical praise I can get." Janine gratefully accepted her glass. "And I understand you dance."
"Not seriously anymore." Val shook her head.
"But you were going to dance school when you and Sean were married."
"Michael changed all of my plans," Val replied softly.
"Michael?" Janine looked puzzled.
"My son." She looked up, surprised. "Didn't Sean let you know?"
Janine's face broke into a glowing smile, a feminine version of Sean's. "No, he didn't, that rat," she gurgled happily. "You mean I'm an aunt? Well, when was he born? Can I see him?"
"Michael will soon be entering the 'ferocious fours.' He's at-preschool right now. Sean picks him up on his way home from the office," Valerie explained.
"Then I take it that darling big brother learned about his son only recently, because I saw him a year and a half ago and he didn't even mention a son—and it's not something he'd keep a secret." Janine leaned forward in her chair, continuing bluntly: "Why did you leave Sean?"
"It's a long story," Valerie mumbled, keeping her eyes glued to the table.
"I know I shouldn't have asked, but the artist in me likes to probe below the surface. Look, Valerie, I hit thirty a few months ago, and the reason I'm not married is because there
's only one man like my brother. Sean and I may fight like cats and dogs, even though we only see each other every few years, but I love that guy because he's all male. You won't find one better. That's why I'm so glad to see that the two of you are back together. Sean needs a very special woman, and I already feel that you're that woman."
Valerie squirmed uneasily in her chair, all too aware of the real reasons behind their reconciliation. "I guess I should start dinner."
"Oh, can I help?" Janine asked eagerly. "I may not be a gourmet cook, but I haven't poisoned anyone yet." The two women talked companionably as they worked in the kitchen.
"Chicken in wine sauce is my specialty." Janine delicately licked her fingertips. "But I can whip up a mean trifle, too." Valerie opened a cabinet and turned as the back door opened and Michael ran in. He stopped short, staring curiously at Janine.
"Oh, Val, he certainly is Sean's son," she breathed, squatting down on her heels. "Hello, Michael, I'm your Aunt Janine."
"Aunt Ja—" He stumbled over the name.
"Try Aunt Jay; it's much easier." She smiled. "I'm so pleased to meet you."
Sean walked in with his suit coat flung over one shoulder, his eyes narrowed as he saw his sister. "Well, Jay, to what do we owe the occasion?" he asked coolly.
"I came for a nice family visit, brother, dear." She was oblivious to his tones. "Don't worry, darling, I'll be a good girl. I promise. Cross my heart and hope to die." She smiled, full of impish charm. "After all, I am your baby sister."
"Little did my parents know," Sean growled, but his eyes were warm as they rested on her. "They might not have taken that vacation."
"Now you know why I see him only every few years." Janine turned to Valerie. "Well, I think I'll go change for dinner and wash off the rest of this road dust."
"I guess I'll go change, too," Valerie muttered, not wanting to be alone with Sean. "Come on, Michael."
She took her time choosing her outfit, but finally settled on a long, multi-colored cotton skirt and a white cotton peasant blouse that showed her figure to advantage.
She stopped by Michael's room and called to him. "Why don't you come help me set the table?"
