Turning Point

by Lara Zielinsky

  “Can I at least know the name of the man? Is it that writer? Is that why you were so abrupt with him — because you wanted to cover up in front of me how you lust for each other?”

  The notion of her being interested in Cameron Palassis was so absurd, Brenna laughed out loud. “No, no, Kevin. He is nothing to me, not even a colleague I have to suffer for the sake of the job. No, Kevin. Cameron was, however, acting an ass for an entirely different reason, and she is why I tripped him, risked complete public humiliation, and now must confess and end the charade with you.”

  Kevin’s brow furrowed as he processed what she’d said. Finally he seemed to deflate. “You’re having some sort of intimacy with Ms. Hyland?” He looked utterly confused.

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re not gay. We’ve made love and I’d…know.”

  “I’ve had sex with you. I thought it was…all I was supposed to feel.” She strugŹgled to explain. “But…until I…she…it’s different,” she finished lamely, aware that explaining further would just hurt him unnecessarily.

  “Am I that bad a lover that you would go to a woman?”

  “Kevin…” She shook her head. “No.”

  “Then why the hell are you leaving me for some lesbian?”

  “I didn’t know Cassidy felt the same.”

  “Did she seduce you?”

  Brenna shook her head. “It was mutual.”

  Kevin stood up looking sad, angry, confused. His posture went rigid, hard. Brenna leaned forward, clasping her hands together, arms braced on her thighs, looking at her now bare finger, not even a mark to indicate a ring had been there. She really had never worn it honestly. God, how could you make me so blind?

  “I’m truly sorry,” Brenna said. “Whatever you want in the divorce, I’ll…pay it.”

  Kevin’s brows lowered angrily. “I want you” he snapped. “I married you for love, Bren. That’s what I want.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “I’ll have a lawyer draw up the papers.” He threw the ring into the darkness; they both heard it hit the pool surface with a plop. Down the drain, she thought as he walked away, leaving her in the yard alone.

  When she went inside later, reluctant to face him but driven in by the chill, she found he had left. His overnight bags were gone. She heard a car drive up and looked out her window in time to see him bend down and get in the back seat of a cab. Gone.

  Chapter 39

  Cassidy removed the pins from her hair with relief and dropped them on her bathroom counter. Finger-combing her locks, she caught her gaze in the mirror.

  I wish we’d had a chance to talk privately, she lamented. She had fully felt overŹwhelming love and protection in those few seconds surrounding Cameron’s “acciŹdent”. It made her want to curl up in Brenna’s embrace.

  Just twenty-four hours ago she had indulged that want. She had touched Brenna in the ways she had imagined, even tasted her. Rubbing her cheeks as they heated with the memory, she inhaled slowly.

  So why did I feel Brenna’s love just as palpably across the separation tonight as when surrounded by the scents of our passion?

  Indulging in the quiet since Ryan would not be returned by Gwen until mornŹing, Cassidy relaxed on the couch and relived the evening with the perspective of time. The conversation had been pleasant and stimulating. Rich and his wife, of course, Cassidy had known. The brown-haired woman had been a new acquaintance. A singer by trade, as soon as she’d learned Linda’s profession, she had turned the topic to childcare by bringing up one of the segments from a women’s issues program that she hosted.

  At the time, Cassidy had not thought about her conversation companions. In reflective retrospect, she saw the sandy brown hair, the warm brown eyes, and remembered her from a recent news story. Something about her children. The woman and her previous partner… Lesbians.

  She thought about that word. She’d been referred to so often as a blonde bombŹshell, treated like a dumb blonde. What would being labeled again do to her career?

  She loved Brenna. De facto, the press would label her a lesbian. Well, Cassidy thought with a slight quirk of her lips, at last something they say about me will be true.

  Immediately Brenna’s features coalesced in her mind — the rounded chin, softly slanted eyes nestling above smooth high cheekbones, and her dainty, kissable lips. Her heart expanded with acute joy. When Brenna had entered the ballroom, Cassidy knew she had stopped breathing. The older woman was compact, luminous, gracious, and scintillatingly sexy. And later, in her eyes, Cassidy recognized what love really looked like.

  Cameron’s face interposed itself over Brenna’s, with the half sneer he had worn when talking to her about witnessing the kiss. “/ know. I saw,” he taunted. Cassidy sighed. She may have prevented the publicity from breaking tonight, but that grace period would not last forever. She had overheard the light buzz concerning Brenna’s husband’s political aspirations. His wife wanting a divorce would be popular news. That same wife having an affair with a woman would give the tabloids fodder for page one stories for months to come.

  Cassidy knew that the timing of advancing her relationship with Brenna to a physical union could have been better chosen. She could foresee the coming difficulŹties. She wondered if the storm clouds on the horizon, formless and swirling, might blow everything away.

  She suspected that if the publicity caused any problems with the roles she was offered, the effect would not last long.

  She briefly considered that Mitch might cause A problem If he knew about her relationship; his continual badgering that she was a poor parent might gain new traction, though his abuse and her financial independence would likely still prevail. However, Ryan would probably be all right with Brenna being around a lot more. He was too young to understand everything, but he had seemed genuinely unconcerned by the concept of his mother “dating” Brenna, however his five-year-old mind might define “dating”.

  Brenna’s sons, on the other hand, were old enough to have definite opinions about it, and those were not likely to be favorable. But they loved their mother, and they wanted her to be happy. If they accepted Cassidy, it would be because Brenna asked it of them.

  Shaking her head and not understanding why her stomach twisted, Cassidy flashed back to the previous evening. During their lovemaking, Brenna had been indulgent, offering Cassidy her passion freely, finding numerous ways to give pleaŹsure. While Cassidy had been shaky, Brenna had responded to the possibility of disŹcovery with utter calm. She had regained herself with quicker aplomb.

  Has Brenna not fallen as far, or as deeply? Will our one night together be enough to convince her to not turn her back on what we have when the press breathes fire down our necks?

  Another thought sprang to mind, and the crushing weight of it made it difficult for Cassidy to breathe. She’s already expressed fears about her ability to continue her career because of her age. How much more fear will it create if she is branded a lesbian and alienated from her family?

  Enveloped in sudden depression, Cassidy finished with the cloth on her face and splashed in the water. Going to her bed, she burrowed under the covers, relucŹtant to face the dawn.

  Morning coffee percolating and still wrapped in her full-length thermal robe, Cassidy stepped onto her stoop to fetch her newspaper.

  “Mommy!”

  She looked up from her crouch in time to catch Ryan, dressed in a pair of jean coveralls and a plaid long-sleeved shirt. His arms slipped around her neck, blocking her view of Gwen walking up behind him.

  “Lazy morning?” Gwen asked.

  “Not too bad.” Cassidy stood. “I’ve got coffee on. Want some?”

  Ryan raced past her into the house, and Gwen entered ahead of Cassidy. “Do I get to hear all the details before they show up in the paper?”

  Cassidy shrugged. “It was a press party,” she said wryly. “I went. I talked — mostly to reporters mind you — and that was that.”

  Gwen helped herself to a c
up from the coffeemaker. “What I wouldn’t give for a night out among all those hot names.” She leaned on the counter while Cassidy poured a bowl of cereal for Ryan at the kitchen table. “So, who was there?”

  “You met some of them at Ryan’s party. Rachelle and Jacques Cheron, Rich Paulson and his wife Linda…”

  Gwen shook her head. “Who else was there?”

  Cassidy lifted an eyebrow and nodded, knowing Gwen’s tastes among the other actors who worked at Pinnacle Studios. “Kyle Gramercy was there. Daniel Pettigrew, too. Oh yeah, and Spellman. Brenna talked briefly with him and his wife…”

  “So, she was there?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did you…”

  “We had a brief conversation with her husband Kevin, then he took me out on the floor dancing. After that we went to the—”

  Gwen grabbed her arm. “You danced with her husband?” The brown head shook in disbelief. “My God, that is just plain weird.”

  Cassidy smiled broadly, recalling a similar reaction. “It was strange, but I’d do it again, just to see that stymied look on Cameron’s face.”

  “Why would Cameron care? I thought you broke it off with him.”

  “He decided to play a little game of blackmail,” Cassidy explained with a griŹmace. “I was supposed to pretend we were still together, or he’d tell Kevin that he saw Brenna and me kissing.” Gwen looked alarmed. “Don’t ask me how. I was positive we were alone, but—”

  “Oh, Cassidy, please tell me she’s already gotten separation papers, something. She hasn’t?” Gwen shook her head again. “Shit, Lou is gonna flip.”

  “No, Gwen. You can’t tell him. I know, I just know this is going to break soon, but please — you know how he gets about these things.” Cassidy shivered. “I need time to figure out what to do about Mitch myself.”

  “He’ll find out.”

  “I just need a little time to prepare.” Cassidy was determined. She brushed her hair back from her face in exasperation. “Somehow.”

  She watched Ryan climb down from the chair, his empty bowl left on the table. “Ryan, clean up.”

  He had gotten halfway to the sliding door. “Yes, Mommy.” Ryan moved his bowl to the sink with a clatter. Cassidy grimaced at the sharp noise. “Can I play with Ranger now?”

  “All right. Then we’ll figure out what to pack for Grandma’s.”

  “Going to Missouri, then?” Gwen asked as Ryan ran outside to the excited barks of the four-year-old Dalmatian.

  “Might be the last chance I get for a while.”

  Oh my God. Brenna rolled slowly over onto her back, blinking into the mornŹing sunlight cascading into her bedroom. She swallowed against a painfully dry throat and rubbed the heels of her palms gently against her eyes, which felt puffy from crying.

  She stretched her shoulders and back, achy from sleeping across bunched covŹers all night. I’d better clean up. Standing and stretching with several groans, Brenna stripped off the wrinkled remains of her gown and stockings. Then, with a gasp of shock, she stepped under the stinging spray of gradually warming water.

  Her heart thrummed fast, making her breathless as she opened her mouth and gargled.

  Well, here we go again. Divorce. She recalled her mother’s reaction to the news eight years ago that she and Tom were divorcing.

  “You’re breaking a contract God made, Brenna Renee Lanigan. Who are you to question God’s will?”

  Brenna’s throat tightened at the sharp note of disgust in her mother’s voice. HowŹever, she tried to defend herself. “I didn’t break it, Mama,” she said. “Tom did.”

  “You’ve obligations. He’s your husband, father of your children.”

  “You want me to forgive him? Mama, he took another woman into the bed he shared with me!”

  “Don’t you talk to me like that! You have a duty.”

  Her mother had raved about damnation and excommunication. Brenna had stopped regularly attending church several years earlier, but the sense of disappointŹing her mother had stuck. She had disappointed her before. Divorcing Tom had been strike one. Divorcing Kevin might be strike two. As for partnering with Cassidy… She shook her head.

  Stepping out of the shower, Brenna dried slowly. Standing at the sink, she checked her face. The puffiness was almost indiscernible. She conjured up Cassidy’s face, and her lips curled up at the corners. The sensation of a reassuring hug across her shoulders made her stomach twist, her nipples tighten, and her groin heat.

  She thought about the party and wanting to escape with Cassidy to the bathŹroom, even for just a moment to talk. The touch of winsome blue eyes had steadied her. She had done what was necessary.

  Thinking about Cassidy led to thoughts of Cameron, whose behavior at the ball had been beyond the pale, even for him. His direct gazes while pawing Cassidy had been designed to taunt her specifically.

  Brenna did not regret backing him into the punchbowl. She wondered what happened after he was escorted away. She sighed. No doubt she would learn all in great detail when she returned to the set.

  Holding her robe closed at her throat, Brenna stepped into the mid-morning sun and went down the front walk to collect the Sunday paper. On their small cul-de-sac, she could see two girls playing on the front drive of a nearby home. She smiled and turned back inside.

  She worked through much of the newspaper and was about to get herself a secŹond cup of coffee when James appeared in the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of pineapple juice and settled next to her at the dining room table. He was barely conŹscious. She brushed his hair out of his face and commiserated. “Rough night?”

  Busy draining the glass, for a moment James did not speak. Mouth wet and eyes blinking, finally he nodded.

  “Anything you want to talk about?”

  “No.” He looked at one of the discarded sections of paper and picked it up, flipŹping through the sports news. “How was the party last night?”

  “Nice.”

  He seemed to straighten, then. “Is he still asleep?”

  Brenna shook her head. Abruptly there was another presence behind her. She jumped when Thomas’ hands caught her shoulders and he kissed her cheek. “Good morning,” her elder son greeted then crossed through to the kitchen.

  Sighing, Brenna knew there was no sense in putting off the announcement. “Kevin’s not here.”

  “Did he go out?”

  “He went home. About three o’clock this morning.”

  James frowned and shook his head. “Mom?”

  Thomas stepped in from the kitchen, his orange juice clutched in his hand. “What’s up?”

  “We had a fight last night. I asked for a divorce.” James got up and walked into the kitchen. She could see him leaning on the counter while he poured his cereal. Brenna winced as she saw him slam the box on the counter with a sharp thump.

  From the kitchen, James asked, “Does this have something to do with Ms. Hyland coming over Friday night?” The question made Brenna look up at him in surprise. “It does, doesn’t it? You become friends with her, and suddenly everything you have isn’t enough for you, is it?”

  “Kevin and I have had problems for a while now. I talked sometimes with Cassidy about them, but she did not make me do this.”

  “You’re such a doofus, James.”

  “Shh.” Brenna laid a quieting hand over Thomas’ on the table. She studied James’ face, trying to gauge how much he should understand. Obviously the divorce was angering him. Is it this one, or recalling the first one? Telling him at this point that she was involved with Cassidy would be inappropriate additional information.

  “Some things just can’t be gotten past. Kevin wanted things I couldn’t give to him and still have the things I want. We’d thought it would resolve itself when Time Trails finished. I learned that’s not going to happen. Our goals are too different. I really want to keep working. He doesn’t see that as important.”

  “Why didn’t you know this before you got married?”
James let his frustration and confusion show, stalking away from the counter and out of sight.

  “Because nobody’s perfect.” Brenna entered the kitchen and found James standŹing away from her as if staking it out as a defensive location. He cringed when she reached for him but when she pulled him into a hug, he collapsed against her. “Kevin’s not. I’m not.” She kissed his hair. “I’ve always told you that things have a way of working out the way they should.”

  James’ arms slowly moved between their bodies, and he pushed away. She let him go. “I saw this coming. Damn.” He turned away. Brenna looked to Thomas, who had gotten up and walked to the outside of the counter.

  “So what happens now?” he asked.

  “Our lawyers will be getting together. Kevin and I actually didn’t have a lot of joint property, so it won’t take long.” Or at least it shouldn’t.

  James suddenly looked up at her with concern. “Will Dad have to be involved?”

  “Your father? No. Why?” Brenna suddenly wondered what her first husband’s reaction would be. “You two are staying with me. That’s not up for negotiation.”

  “So you’ll have to go to court,” James asked.

  “At least once. In Michigan.”

  Thomas grimaced. “Will we?”

  “I doubt it. Unless you want to come for support. It’s your choice.” She wasn’t certain they did support her, but she wanted them to have the option.

  Thomas rested a hand on hers on the counter between them. “Mom, are you going to be okay?”

  Old habits died so hard. She was tired of causing so many people so much pain. “I’m just sorry to be putting you through this again.”

  “It’s a shock,” Thomas replied honestly. “But, we’re older. It’s not like divorce isn’t common, y’know?”

  Sighing, Brenna agreed, but she didn’t want either of her sons to feel that divorce was the predictable end to all marriages. “Don’t think it has to be this way for everyone.” She picked up her coffee mug and looked into its emptiness. “You can do better.” She exhaled and filled the cup. “The most important thing is that you don’t lie to yourself about who you are or what you want.”