Chapter 51
M
icheline enjoyed the oohs and aahs as she walked, on the arm of her father, toward the specially built platform in the Trents' backyard. They were even louder than the ones given for her nieces, Josie, Gaby, Eleith, plus little Monet Rivers, who served as her flower girls and looked beautiful in their yellow-and-white dresses.
It amazed her that Juanita Trent had managed to put together such a lovely wedding in such a short period of time. When Micheline came home from the hospital, Errol asked her to pick a date. She chose one six weeks out from the date of her baby's birth, when she had a green light to resume sex. She smiled as she thought about it. They were going to have some honeymoon. She imagined that after waiting so long they'd spend the whole time in bed and wouldn't even get to the beach in Aruba. They'd have to pay the hotel staff extra to bring them food and water to keep from starving or dehydrating. She just hoped it would be worth the wait. Holding out had largely been responsible for her becoming Mrs. Errol Trent. That, and the crisis they'd gone through together.
She would never forget how kind and attentive Errol had been to her, especially in the closing days of her miserable pregnancy. He'd practically waited on her hand and foot. He held her hand in the delivery room, and still he was willing to raise the baby as his if she decided to keep it.
Her father bent to kiss her cheek and then handed her over to Errol, who looked delicious in his tux with a white jacket. The ministerâMicheline's mother expressed heartbreak that they didn't marry in the Church, but the Trents were Baptistâaddressed the gathering, and in a few minutes it was all over, and she and Errol shared their first chaste kiss as husband and wife, to the cheers of their guests.
Cécile and Yolanda, her two honor attendants, appeared behind her, adjusting her short veil and slipping her a satin bridal purse for the checks she would be presented with on the receiving line.
The warm June sun beat down on Micheline's bare shoulders as she stood at her new husband's side to receive the good wishes of their guests, most of whom she was meeting for the first time. She'd worked hard to lose her baby weight and fit into this strapless white tea-length dress with ap-pliqué and cinched waist, and she knew she would make a favorable impression on all who saw her.
She first spotted the man when he stood about fifteen people back in the line. In his mid-thirties, maybe a little older, he stood head and shoulders above the other guests. She estimated his height at about six-four. With smooth dark skin and a shaved head, even the way his jaw moved as he chewed gum, he reminded her of Michael Jordan.
She found it hard to concentrate on the other guests Errol introduced her to.
“So I suppose you'll be having an Errol Junior before too long,” a silver-haired lady whose name went right over Micheline's head remarked, her gaze lingering on Micheline's slim midsection.
“Not for a few years yet, Mrs. Miller,” Errol replied. He turned his head to wink privately at Micheline. They had expected people to suspect a secret behind their hastily planned wedding, but it came as a surprise that someone actually came out and asked. Apparently Mrs. Miller felt that her advanced age entitled her to make rude comments. Micheline didn't regret it when she moved on.
At last the man she'd been staring at stood opposite her. “Michie, this is Ivan Valentine,” Errol said. “Our parents are good friends, and we were at UF about the same time, or at least one year. I started as a freshman the year he was a senior.”
“You make a stunning bride, Mrs. Trent,” Ivan said with a little nod of his head, while his companion, a nondescript petite woman, murmured good wishes, her arm possessively linked through Ivan's. Micheline noticed the woman's bare ring finger. Ivan introduced his date to them, an introduction Micheline practically ignored.
“Did you study dentistry, too?” she asked Ivan.
“Heck, no. Four years of college was enough for me. I went into accounting.”
Her smile slowly faded. That seemed like such a boring profession for such an exciting-looking man.
“Ivan's on his way to becoming a corporate CFO,” Errol said. “He left a position as director of accounting in Raleigh to become the corporate controller of a big manufacturer based in Orlando.”
Micheline brightened. That sounded promising.
Ivan's next words disappointed her. “You guys be sure to give us a call when you're down our way. And I hope you'll plan to attend our wedding next spring.”
“Nice meeting you,” his fiancée said. “And I wish you every happiness.”
Micheline watched as they moved on to greet her parents. Ivan Valentine might be taken, but after being in his company, suddenly Errol didn't seem like that much of a catch anymore. He'd probably be working at the same dental practice twenty years from now, while Ivan would change jobs, going to exciting cities like San Diego and Chicago, moving up the corporate ladder each time. That plain Jane at his side would get to live a glamorous life. And, judging by the sex appeal that radiated from Ivan's pores like blood from a shallow scratch, they probably tore up the sheets at night.
She forced a smile as she shook yet another guest's hand. She'd made it. After just one year she was now Mrs. Errol Trent.
But would she really be happy? Or would she spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder like she just had at Ivan, always wondering if she was looking at a better catch than Errol, someone she would never be able to have?
The smile remained plastered on her face as she tried to cope with the uncomfortable hunch that she was destined to live the latter scenario.
Chapter 52
T
he baby awoke crying at six
A.M.
after sleeping for five hours. A groggy Norell staggered to the bassinet and lifted the screaming infant, carrying her quickly to the living room so Vic could get back to sleep. It looked like she wouldn't be getting a whole lot of sleep the next few months. At least she had the benefit of working at home and setting her own hours. New mothers who had to return to work in an office didn't have the luxury of sleeping in or taking a nap after lunch because they'd been up during the night and then early in the morning with a newborn. She would manage just fine.
After careful consideration, she and Vic named their daughter Brianna. Norell liked the effect of a double initial, like Cécile's daughter, Regine Rivers. Little Brianna had changed quite a bit in the seven weeks since her birth. Features began to emerge from her lumpy face: Expressive eyes, a button nose, a dainty mouth. Little Brianna Bellamy had the potential to be a real beauty.
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“Just fourteen thousand dollars?” Cécile said in disappointment. “How are we ever going to get rich making profits like that?”
All three partners attended the meeting at Dana's.
“It's not all bad, Cécile,” Dana said. “Remember, we've been paid every week as independent contractors for all the work we've done the last year. When you add that up we've made considerably more than fourteen grand, especially you, because you've been transcribing full time since you had Regine.”
“And you have to consider that our profits are divided into three,” Norell added. “That means CDN had a net profit of about forty-two thousand. And that's less than a full year. We cut off the fiscal year March thirty-first, remember?”
“Well, if that's the case, why did we have to wait until June to get our money?” Cécile asked crankily.
“Because we had to give new profits a chance to pile up, or else we wouldn't have any operating capital,” Dana explained patiently.
“Just think how many mortgage payments you can make with fourteen grand, Cécile,” Norell pointed out.
“Eight thousand is our original investment, so that only leaves a profit of six.”
Dana tried again. “But next year it'll be sure to be higher, and since you've gotten your original investment back it'll all be profit. The hospital account wants to give us more work, if we can get the staff to do it. So relax, Cécile. Better days are coming for you, and for all of us.”
“I guess I was just overly optimistic.” Cécile bounced Regine on her knee. “I guess our ship hasn't come in just yet, Regine.”
“She gets cuter every time I see her, Cécile,” Dana remarked as she watched the smiling, nearly six-month-old baby. “You know, looking at the two of you with your babies, I really feel left out.”
“How's everything going with Gil and his daughter?” Norell asked.
“He and Irene had a real showdown when Vanessa told her she wanted to live with Gil. Irene screamed that I'm behind it all, that I'm so evil. I believe the woman is a mental case. It's not normal to carry paranoia so far.”
“So have they gone to court yet?”
Dana nodded. “Last week. The judge ordered that Gil get custody, and that Irene have a psychiatric evaluation.”
“I'm happy for him,” Cécile said.
“The best thing is that Vanessa is happy. She's had it awfully rough, living with Irene these past months as she's become more and more unglued. Gil hoped Irene would consent to giving him temporary custody until their court date because Vanessa was so unhappy, but she wouldn't go for it.”
They all looked at Brianna, who suddenly woke up from her nap and squealed. “I've never seen you happier, Norell,” Dana said. “She's a real cutie pie.”
“I've never been happier.” Her gaze went from Brianna to Cécile, who sat nearby. “Funny I never noticed it before,” she said. “Brianna looks more like you than Regine does, Cécile.”
“She does, doesn't she?” Dana said in agreement.
Cécile just shrugged. “Just one of those things, I guess.” She hoped she didn't look as guilty as she felt. It would always be like this, whenever she had an opportunity to see her niece who would have to remain a secret.
She wondered if it would ever get any easier.
Norell found it amusing that her baby looked like Cécile. If there was one person she knew would never betray her, it was Cécile, the most honorable person she knew.
“There's something I wanted us to talk about this morning,” she said. “I think it's time that CDN hired its first employee. My hands are full taking care of Brianna. I'd like us to consider hiring a part-time person to help me with the administrative work, like payroll and billing. I don't want to neglect my husband ever again.”
“That's probably a good idea,” Dana said. “It shouldn't cost us a whole lot.”
“Cécile, maybe your sister would be interested,” Norell said. “Didn't you say she gave up her job to stay at home since she got married? Maybe she's bored and wouldn't mind doing something part time.”
Dana wrinkled her nose at the mention of Micheline, but of course Norell didn't know about their unpleasant history. Cécile had honored her wish not to tell what she knew. She held her breath, waiting for Cécile to say Micheline had no interest in working for CDN. She could count on Cécile.
“Oh, I don't think she'd be interested,” Cécile said lightly. “She's much too busy keeping house and experimenting with cooking. But I do agree that it would take some of the administrative load off of you and Dana. We can always put an ad in the paper.”
“Okay,” Norell said. “That's what I'll do.”
Dana breathed a sigh of relief.
So did Cécile.
Chapter 53
O
n the first Saturday morning after the second anniversary of Kenny's death, Dana awoke cloaked in Gil's arms. She frowned, then blinked as she recognized the furnishings of Gil's bedroom. It all came back to her. Brittany and Vanessa slept in Vanessa's room across the hall.
She'd been apprehensive about flaunting her relationship with Gil in front of their children, but she allowed herself to be convinced when faced with the realization that their chances for intimacy would be few and far between because of their dual responsibilities as custodial parents. Last night she stayed overnight at Gil's for the first time. The girls didn't even know she was still here. She would have to have a long talk with Brittany, who was almost fourteen now. Maybe she could understand that at that age, her time for romance and all it involved still lay in the future, while at forty, Dana's opportunities for love and happiness had become more scarce.
She still had plenty to look forward to. She and Gil loved each other. He told her how he felt during the difficult times trying to wrestle custody of Vanessa away from Irene, and she'd been happy to tell him the feeling was mutual.
Gil shifted in his sleep. “Don't leave,” he mumbled sleepily.
“I'm not leaving. I think I'll mix up some pancake batter. It'll help calm my nerves about how the girls will react when they realize I spent the night with you.”
“Dana, it's not a big deal. Vanessa has a pretty good idea of how much you mean to me. She can see the difference between the way you and I interact and all the tension between her mother and me before the divorce. And she knows the facts of life. So does Brittany, I'm sure.”
“Brittany has accepted you because she knows Kenny is gone forever. But Irene is still very much in the picture. Vanessa might perceive me as trying to take over.”
“I think she'll welcome a little feminine influence in her life, now that she's a teenager and interested in boys. Irene can't have unsupervised visitation with Vanessa until it's determined that her medication is controlling her paranoid state. And I know that Vanessa has abandoned any ideas she had about a reconciliation between us.”
“I wonder if Irene will ever see the truth as it really is and just let bygones be bygones.”
“Sounds a little familiar, doesn't it?”
Dana frowned. “What do you mean, Gil?”
But he didn't reply, and a moment later his soft breathing alternated with the louder whirring of the ceiling fan above them. He had fallen back asleep.
Dana shrugged. She pushed the cover back and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
She had several stacks of pancakes made and being kept warm in the oven, and bacon frying. The unmistakable scent served to rouse the girls. “Hi, Mom,” Brittany said as she emerged from upstairs in her pajamas, which looked like a shorts set.
“Hi, Miss Dana,” Vanessa echoed. “Is any bacon ready yet?”
“No, but the pancakes are.”
“I smell bacon!” Gil said definitively as he appeared, bare chested and wearing checkered drawstring cotton pants. Dana realized she was the only one in street clothes, having put on the same capri pants and shirt she'd worn the night before. She felt strangely overdressed.
“It's almost ready,” she said.
“How'd everybody sleep?” Gil asked.
“Good, Popi. How did
you
sleep?” Vanessa giggled.
“Mom, does this mean you two are getting married?” Brittany asked between gasps of laughter.
Dana looked up from the bacon she just flipped. “Does
what
mean we're getting married?”
“Didn't you spend the night?”
“Does it bother either of you that she did?” Gil asked, his voice low with caution. Dana held her breath.
“No. But after we went to bed, Vanessa and I talked. We said how nice it would be if we got to be real sisters,” Brittany said as Vanessa nodded agreement.
Dana let out the breath she'd been holding. “Girls, right now the two of us are very happy spending time together. But no one is saying anything about getting married. So let's just enjoy ourselves and have fun, okay?” She lifted the bacon onto a bed of paper towels. “Let's eat.”
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She dropped the girls off at the multiplex that afternoon, and then headed home to do her housework and perhaps a little work for CDN. As she dusted and vacuumed she thought of Irene. How pathetic that anyone could harbor such an unforgiving attitude. Irene would probably still feel that she had plotted to steal Gil from her twenty years from now.
For Vanessa's sake, Dana hoped that Irene could conquer her demons. Irene's condition remained the one blemish on an existence that had become as peaceful as it was happy. She and Gil loved each other and had the blessing of both their daughters. CDN continued to thrive in its second year. Between the income from her job, from CDN, and from the room above the garage, she could afford to indulge herself every now and then. Money might not ever be plentiful, and she worked sixty hours a week, but at least she didn't have to worry about how she would keep a roof over her head and Brittany's.
Her friends were doing well, too. The blended Belarge-Rivers family had comfortably settled into their new house, united by the birth of a baby all of them could claim a blood relation to. They would never be cramped again. Cécile, disenchanted with her failed tubal ligation and determined that the much-loved Regine would be her last child, had a powerful birth control device implanted into her arm. And Norell was thrilled with her new daughter. She and Vic had plenty of opportunities to go out for time alone, for they had eager babysitters in the form of Amber and Jessica, who adored their baby sister. Those better days she had predicted had come true for all of them.
When the house looked and smelled fresh, Dana relaxed on the family room sofa with a magazine. Brittany would be calling at any moment to say she was ready to come home.
Dana caught sight of her address book on the lower shelf of the coffee table. Suddenly she remembered what Gil said this morning. He asked her if Irene's attitude sounded familiar. Now she knew what he meant.
Surely she had been angry and unforgiving long enough.
She reached for her personal address book and turned to the “B” page. She stared at the name at the top of the page for a long time, then leaned over toward the end table and lifted the cordless receiver.
A male voice answered.
“Hello, Daddy,” she said uncertainly. “This is Dana. I think we need to talk... .”