Bertrice Small - Private Pleasures

Back down in the kitchen, she put all the dishes from breakfast in the dishwasher and mopped the counters. There was just enough room for her supper plate. It was after four now, and the sunset was visible through the kitchen windows. Nora sat down, and called Margo to wish her a happy new year.

"What are you doing?" Margo asked her daughter.

"I've just got the tree out, and everything cleaned up," Nora answered.

"Where are the kids?"

"Jill went back a few days ago. She's met someone, and they wanted to spend New Year's Eve together. I got J. J. off on the noon bus."

"Tomorrow's the day, right?" Margo asked.

"Yep," Nora said shortly.

"Come down and stay with me," Margo said. "South Carolina coastal winters are really lovely. The winter jasmine is already starting to bloom. We could house hunt for you. It's really so much cheaper down here. You wouldn't have to give up any of your furniture. Taylor is building a lovely development just a few miles from here. You could customize it to suit you at this stage."

"Thanks, Ma, but I'm not ready to make that kind of a commitment yet," Nora said. Nor ever, she thought silently.

"Look, honey, you really have nothing to do now. Come down," Margo persisted.

"Ma, I've got another semester of classes to take, and then I've got to job hunt. The thousand dollars a month Jeff is going to be doling out to me isn't going to make it. I can't be a lady of leisure like you can," Nora told her mother.

"They still have midwinter breaks, don't they?" Margo said dryly. "I'll send you a ticket. I'll send you two, and J. J. can come with you."

"He's already mentioned something about going skiing with Lily and her family," Nora said.

"Then I'll just send one ticket. Come on, darling, you need a break. The last six months have been horrendous for you. Besides, I miss you. And Taylor does too," Margo coaxed in her best tones.

"Still set on not remarrying?" Nora teased her mother.

"I'm rethinking my priorities," Margo admitted. "Taylor is a lot of fun, and right now he does seem to be pretty maintenance-free. We're going to be cruising in the Bahamas in March on his yacht. Now, say you'll come," Margo pleaded, not being pulled from her determination.

"Okay, I'll come," Nora said. Might as well tell her mother she'd come even if there was little chance she would. It made Margo happy, and Nora wanted to leave her happy. They spoke for another few minutes, and then Nora said, "I want to call Jill, Ma. I'll talk to you in a few days."

Jill sounded sleepy. She was up, but it had obviously been a very late night for her, and Nora heard the voice of a man in the background. She smiled. This was serious. Jill never let anyone stay over, and her roommates hadn't returned yet, so that male voice had to belong to her friend.

"Will you be alright tomorrow, Ma?" Jill sounded genuinely worried.

"Fine," Nora responded. "Your grandmother has me coming down in midwinter break to South Carolina. She wants me to look at places to live. Taylor is building a new development. I told her I'd come, but no new house."

"Ma, it wouldn't be a bad idea. The Carolinas are so much cheaper, even now. And I'm here."

"Your brother isn't, and J. J. needs his mother for a while longer," Nora said. "He has to go to State. I can't afford to send him anywhere else. Thank God he got the scholarship for soccer."

"Okay, but you should think about it," Jill pressed.

They spoke for a few more minutes, and then no sooner had she hung up than the phone rang. It was J. J. They were back. The dorm was warmer than the house. The trip was fine, and he'd call tomorrow after she got back from town.

"You don't have to, honey," she said. "I'm going to be fine. I'm resigned to this now. Not happy, but resigned."

"If you need me, Ma, at any time, I'll come home," he told her.

"You damned well better stay in school, J. J.," she scolded. "I love you, honey, but no way will I ever need to lean on you."

"Okay, Ma, I get it. I am woman, hear me roar," he kidded.

"You got it, boyo!"

"I gotta run," he said.

"Got a life now, do you?" she teased back. "Okay, honey, bye, now."

"Bye, Ma. I love you!" And then he was gone.

It was done. She had said her good-byes for now to everyone she loved. She fixed herself supper, consisting of cold ham and macaroni and cheese. Her mother always said eating pork on the new year brought luck. I'm going to need luck, Nora considered. She got up, put her dishes in the dishwasher, turned it on, and put food in the cats' bowls, filling their water dish and crunchies container. She had called Suburban Cable while J. J. had been in the shower this morning. Now it was her turn to shower. She went upstairs, bathed, and washed her hair, drying it with the dryer her son had left on her sink counter this morning. She got into the clean new flannel nightgown that Jill had given her for Christmas. It was soft pink, and had lace at the wrists and a small ruffle at the neck. She slipped her feet into the new pink suede slippers lined with lamb's wool that J. J. had given her. After brushing her hair, she drew it back and fastened it neatly with an elastic band. She headed downstairs and fixed herself a cup of tea, put the last of Carla's Christmas cookies on a china plate, and carried them into the den. She had lost a lot of weight during the last six months, but Carla's cookies had always been irresistible, and it was the end of the holidays, Nora reasoned. She turned on Jeopardy! and got a lot of the answers right. Next came Wheel of Fortune but she was never any good at solving the puzzles until it became so obvious the village idiot could figure it out. She tipped the teacup over into the saucer, and regretfully left the last cookie on the plate. It made a nice effect. The clock on the fireplace mantel struck eight o'clock.

For a moment Nora debated one last time if she was doing the right thing. What if Mr. Nicholas had lied, and she couldn't get back? Then she decided that if Jeff was going to get the house, the reality of The Channel was a far better world for her than the one she was now in. Reaching out, Nora pressed her palm against the television screen, feeling the now-familiar pop within her body. She was there, and she meant to stay until she could force Jeff to give up his selfish quest for the house.

"Honey," she said, calling out for Kyle, "I'm home!"

"What the hell do you mean, she can't sign the papers today?" Jeff Buckley's face was beet red with his anger. "I warned you that the bitch would try something cute if you didn't make her sign last autumn. What are you going to do about this, Kramer? I've paid you a fortune so far, and I'm still married to Nora."

Raoul Kramer looked at his client with what he hoped was an emotionless face. He didn't like Jeff Buckley, and the more he knew him, the less he liked him. He had taken his case as a favor to Jeff's senior partner, with whom he had roomed at college. It should have been a quiet divorce. His voice was cool as he spoke. "Your wife is in the hospital, Buckley. She is unconscious. Her attorney found her this morning when he went to pick her up, so they could drive into the city together."

"Is she going to die?" If she died, everything would be his.

"They don't know yet. They don't even know what's the matter. You would have to speak with Rick Johnson, her attorney. You know him. You were neighbors," the lawyer said.

"So what happens now?" Jeff asked. "Can I get the divorce?"

"Not until she regains consciousness or dies," Raoul Kramer said. "The judge ordered that we had to have a settlement before she would hear the case in its entirety."

"Get another judge, then," Jeff said.

"Not possible. You haven't got the grounds for it. No judge will grant you a divorce from Mrs. Buckley without that settlement being signed. You're stuck for the time being, I'm afraid. Besides, how would it look if you divorced her now?"

"She isn't on my health insurance anymore. How long will the hospital keep her under those circumstances?" Jeff wanted to know.

"You took her off your health insurance?" Kramer was astounded. "That was part of the agreement. You have to pay her health insurance along with the alimony for five years. When the hell did you do that?"

"Months ago. I asked my assistant Carol to arrange it," Jeff said nervously. "Is this going to cost me?"

"Oh, yeah," Raoul Kramer said. "It's going to cost you big-time. You take the kids off too?" But he knew the answer to that even as he spoke.

"Yeah, but they never get sick. And I never knew Nora to get sick in all the years we were married. Isn't there some law or something that says I can refuse to pay for her care?" Jeff asked.

Raoul Kramer picked up his phone and punched in a number.

"Who are you calling?" Jeff wanted to know.

"Your assistant. Carol? Raoul Kramer. Did you remove Mrs. Buckley and the kids from Jeff's health insurance? I see. Yes. You're a smart lady. If you ever get tired of working for your boss, call me." He laughed. "Thanks." And put his phone down. "You owe Carol a big one, Buckley. When she read the draft of the settlement for you, she saw that Mrs. Buckley would get health insurance for five years. She arranged it, and in doing so has saved your ass. For God's sake, don't do anything else without checking with me first."

"So it isn't going to cost me?" Jeff wanted reassurance.

"You're home free," Raoul Kramer replied.

"But I can't get the divorce until Nora either wakes up or croaks, right?"

"Right," Kramer said. What a moron this guy was. He expected the ultrarich, whom he usually acted for, to be tight with a dollar, but this guy was just a dumb boomer who had made more money than his father and thought he was rich. "I would suggest you go out to Egret Pointe and get Nora's prognosis from her doctors. Let me know how she's doing, and we'll go from there." His tone was dismissive, and even Jeff got the point.

He stood up. "Yeah. I'll go see what's happening." While driving out to Egret Pointe, Jeff Buckley wondered if Nora would live or die. Kramer was right. The divorce had to be put on hold until they knew. How would it look to his conservative partners at the agency if he divorced his sick wife? More important, how would it look to their clients? There was so much to consider, not to mention Heidi. Heidi was not going to be happy about this delay. There had already been too many delays. He put himself out on a limb with that damned co-op in order to make her happy and to keep her from leaving him. He couldn't bear it if she left him. Heidi was the best damned sex he had ever had. She knew how to thrill a man and keep him coming back for more. He couldn't lose her.

Because Nora had not really been a part of his life in the city, he had been able to keep his divorce discreet, more or less. His partners, older men married for years, hadn't been happy, but he had brought them around, selling them a bill of goods that salved their consciences, making him the victim in the matter. But they wanted everything to be circumspect, controlled, and careful. It was to be quick with no, or at least minimal, gossip involved. There were their clients to consider. It was the youngest of the senior partners, Mr. Archibald Wickham, who had suggested Raoul Kramer. And he had spoken to Raoul himself before sending Jeff to see him.

And he'd done a good job, Jeff had to admit, even if he hated giving up a penny to Nora. Heidi was right. Nora had been living off of him for twenty-six years. In the beginning she had been just the wife he wanted. She was just like his mother: docile, quiet-spoken and frugal. She had made a beautiful home, and kept it nicely. She had produced two children, a daughter and a son. They were intelligent and well-mannered. But as the years had passed he realized that Nora wasn't at all what he wanted. She bored him. And in bed she had not been inspiring at all. How could a woman be so damned dull? he wondered. And now the old cow had thrown a monkey wrench in his plans by getting sick. If she didn't recover from whatever it was that she had, he was going to be stuck with her for the rest of his life. Would he lose Heidi? But maybe Nora would die.