Copyright
©2001 by Judy Bagshaw
Cover art by Susan Bodendorfer
Electronically
published in arrangement with the author
ALL
RIGHTS RESERVED
Except
for brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, the reproduction
of this work in whole or in part in any form by electronic or mechanical or
other means, now known or hereafter invented, including printing, faxing,
E-mail, or copying electronically, is forbidden without the permission of the
publisher, Wordbeams.
http://www.wordbeams.com
E-mail books@wordbeams.com
Wordbeams
PO Box 23415
Portland, OR 97281-3415
This
is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogues in this book are
products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance
to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
To my family, who always believed I would
succeed.
Judy
Bagshaw
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three
Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six
Chapter Seven Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen Chapter
Fourteen Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen Chapter
Seventeen Chapter Eighteen
An exhausted Susan Shaw sat in the comfort
of the speeding launch, thinking about everything that had recently happened to
her. Her shoulder length hair gleamed like burnished copper in the hot tropical
sun, the thick curling tendrils whipping about her face with abandon. Idly, she
thought she should have worn a scarf. Her hair would be agony to brush out
later. Such thoughts seemed so mundane after the intensity of her recent
experience.
Being stalked had been a nightmarish
experience and she'd lost considerable sleep the last couple of months. But
what she was doing now made her feel like a coward. “Go for a
holiday,” her friend Gwen had said. “Take some time away and let
the justice system do its job.” She could rationalize she was suffering
tremendous stress from the horrific episode, and she needed to get away. She
could almost convince herself the distance would help her heal and find a
balance in her life again. To her, it seemed like running, and Susan had never
run away from anything in her life, except maybe from being emotionally hurt.
But the thought of facing any more media coverage, the inquisitive calls from
acquaintances and relatives, or the whispers of her students and colleagues was
more than she could bear.
Susan stretched her long legs. The seats
on the plane had cramped her large frame and height. It felt good to be out of
the claustrophobic aircraft and in the open air. She felt amazed to be here.
She'd never had the opportunity to travel before, as it had always been
financially prohibitive. Not like her twin sister, Justine, the model. Models
got to travel all the time. Justine, in an unusual show of concern, found Susan
a job for the summer, tutoring the nine-year-old daughter of her new rich
boyfriend. She promised he would know nothing of Susan's recent stalking
ordeal. She promised that it would be a holiday more than anything else. Right.
A junior high school teacher giving make-up lessons to a pre-teen so she could
get into some private school--probably the same school for the spoiled
offspring of the rich and privileged Susan had just left for the
summer--certainly wasn't her idea of a holiday.
Susan let out a deep sigh. Maybe the
stress and lack of sleep of the last few months was making her feel a bit
jaded. After all, Highgate Private School for Girls wasn't a bad place to work.
The kids weren't terrible. And it did pay better than normal high schools,
which was the real reason she worked there. She wondered what had really
prompted Justine's gesture, so out of character for the self-absorbed beauty.
Thirty-two year old Susan had always been
the more responsible of the two sisters. Even though they'd lived with their
now deceased grandparents, it was Susan who looked after Justine when their
parents died in the automobile accident. It was Susan who took on the task of
getting the two of them educated and it was Susan who supported her flighty
sister when she went into the uncertain field of modeling.
With her parents' insurance money gone,
living expenses to be maintained, and university loans to pay off, Susan took
the highest paying job available in her field. For the past three years she was
an English teacher during the school year, and a theatre arts instructor at an
exclusive private camp during the summer months. With the two jobs, she could
just barely afford to pay for everything. Without the extra income of her
summer job, Susan didn't know how she would manage. And here she was going to
tutor an obnoxious pre-teen for the price of her room and board and airfare,
for a man who could more than likely afford to pay for a whole school full of
teachers!
Well, now that Justine's career was taking
off and she was earning more, Susan would just have to approach her sister
again about chipping in more money for the loans. As Justine Lafontaine, her
picture appeared often on the covers of glamour magazines around the world. And
she was getting lots of runway work in Europe. This time Susan wasn't going to
take no for an answer.
Gazing at the beautiful blue water, and
feeling the power of the launch under her feet, Susan was struck by how bright
everything seemed in the tropics. The greens seemed greener, and the blues,
bluer. She had to admit that maybe having a rich employer for the summer might
not be too bad after all.
The Quintero Islands were a series of
relatively unknown islands near Nevis and St. Kitts in the southern part of the
Caribbean Islands. Susan remembered seeing a spot about it on 'Lifestyles of
the Rich and Famous.' Most of the islands were nothing more than small knuckles
of rock, covered with a smattering of ragged flora and unable to sustain even
the smallest of animal life. A few of the islands were large enough to have
been purchased privately, and here you could find some of the world's most
exquisite homes. Traditionally the playground of the wealthy and privileged, it
boasted being the second home to some of the world's more reclusive people.
Quintero Primo, the largest of the
islands, had the only thriving town in the entire chain. Dunlee had a bustling
daily farmers' market providing that touch of local flavor so important to
island visitors. People walked to the local dock each day to purchase freshly
caught fish allowing the wealthy island residents to feel a sense of roughing
it or getting back to basics. Of course, the fish they purchased would be
cooked by household cooks in elaborately stocked kitchens in incredibly
expensive homes.
A private airstrip, an exclusive yacht
club, and the world famous five star Four Winds Resort completed the island
complement of facilities.
Getting off the plane, Susan had felt a
little like Dorothy stepping into the Land of Oz for the first time--almost as
if she had always been living in black and white, and all of a sudden she'd
discovered color. The quality of the light was almost painful. It was an
incredible sensory experience. It touched Susan's sensual core and she felt
something begin to awaken in her.
Justine told her the island she was going
to had everything one could want for an idyllic, paradise vacation. There were,
of course, miles of sandy beaches, all the water sports one could imagine, a
fantastic local market and, the most important element according to Justine, a
hotel providing a lively nightlife where one could gamble or dance the night
away. This was where Justine's jet-set cronies hung out most of the time.
Settling herself back into the comfortable
leather seat, Susan felt herself giving in to the overwhelming urge to sleep.
Perhaps it was the heat and the calming drone of the engine. She released a
heavy sigh.
She let her eyes close and her mind
wander. Dancing the night away was something that she had never done. Fat girls
didn't dance the night away. And at three hundred pounds, she was fat. Firm,
but fat. Full-figured to the politically correct. At home Susan enjoyed
walking for hours alone with her thoughts or meditating as she did her daily
modified yoga routine. Dancing was something that her sister did. Her younger
by three minutes, prettier, sexier, more outgoing, thin twin sister, her
frustrating, immature, irresponsible, headstrong, desirable sister.
Susan closed her eyes and smiled. There
was that cynical attitude again. Well, maybe that would stop now that she would
be getting a decent night's sleep and didn't have to worry about strange
threatening notes showing up at her apartment or at the school.
A swell of resentment rose up inside her.
She was being chased away from her life, from doing the things she wanted to do
because of some maniac who had been stalking her for the last year.
It started off as something that she was
rather flattered by, a note from a secret admirer saying that he watched her
from afar, which was one of the most rare and beautiful moments in his life.
She spent days speculating about who her secret admirer could be. She
surreptitiously inspected each man she came in contact with trying to see if he
gave himself away. He wrote again, telling her that her copper colored hair
was only outshone by the lights that sparkled in her emerald green eyes when she
smiled. If it had been left there, Susan might have treasured this as
something to be kept and taken out and reread on those nights when the soul
needed a little lift, but they hadn't stopped there.
The next note came about a month later.
Opening it in eager anticipation, she recognized the simple presentation of her
typed name on the plain white envelope. But the tone of this one was different.
It stated her admirer's desire for her, describing her sensual body and
the graceful and alluring way she moved. Susan had never thought of
herself as sensual, graceful and alluring and in embarrassment, had thrown the
letter into her desk drawer to be forgotten. Suddenly, her secret admirer
wasn't a lovely, romantic dream. It seemed as if he was making fun of her
somehow. When the next note came she became frightened. It was even more
explicit in describing her physical attributes than the previous notes had
been. She grimaced in distaste as the writer went on to describe in detail what
he wished to do to her should they chance to meet. She was sickened and
frightened by the intensity of the message. That was when Susan realized she
needed advice. She decided to bring it to the attention of her friend, Gwen.
There wasn't anyone else she trusted.
The Home Economics teacher, Gwen Delaney
humorously referred to herself as a domestic scientist. She was Susan's
closest friend. They met through Gwen's husband, Barry, Susan's department head
at Highgate. The two women struck up an immediate friendship. A smile spread
across Susan's face as she recalled the first thing Gwen ever said to her.
“Good Lord, it's a giant!”
Having always been very self-conscious
about her size, Susan had turned to look at the person who was speaking. She
found herself looking at one of the most strikingly beautiful women she had
ever seen and this gorgeous, delicate, Japanese flower was standing on a coffee
table so she could look Susan in the eye when they spoke. Gwen then went
on to say that 'if opposites really do attract, then we should be friends for
life!' Susan loved her immediately. They were indeed opposites, at least
physically. Gwen was just five feet tall to Susan's five foot eleven. Her long,
straight hair was jet black, where Susan's was copper color, shoulder length
and curly. Gwen had dark, almost black almond-shaped eyes. Susan's round eyes
were a startling emerald green, and very expressive. Contrary to the
stereotypical Japanese demeanor, Gwen was out-going, impulsive and
unrestrained, where Susan was self-conscious, cautious and somewhat shy. Their
similarity rested in their fine minds, their joy in simple things and their
deeply passionate natures.
It seemed strange at first to become such
close friends with Gwen. After all, Gwen's husband, Barry Delaney, was her
department head and Susan had always been particular about not mixing work with
her social life, such as it was! Disregarding this rule was a testament to
Gwen's perseverance and powerful personality. Susan had quite simply been swept
away.
Susan thought back to her first meeting
with Gwen's husband, Barry at Highgate. That was a very different story. She
was sure that day Barry hated her on sight.
“Susan, this is Barry Delaney, your
department head. He'll help you get settled in,” the principal said.
“Hello Miss Shaw,” Barry said
coolly and politely. “Welcome to Highgate.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she
replied, shaking his hand. She hoped he didn't notice her moist palms,
revealing the extent of her nervousness. “And please, call me
Susan.”
He gave her a long once over, making Susan
feel rather like a lab specimen.
“Very well...Susan. What brought you
to Highgate?” Barry asked, again with forced politeness, his voice tight.
“Well...” Susan began, not
clear how she should answer. “I love teaching and I heard it was an
excellent school. But quite frankly, it paid the best and I could use a healthy
salary at the moment.” She chuckled self-consciously at her attempted
humor and was embarrassed when he failed to respond in kind.
“Well, money isn't
everything,” Barry said, looking disapprovingly down at her from every
inch of his broad-shouldered 6'2” frame. “We have very high
standards here for our students and for the staff as well.”
Susan was rather taken aback. “I
didn't mean it like that. I only meant that I could use the extra money right
now. I mean...things are pretty expensive these days...I--” She stopped.
She was sounding like an imbecile.
“I believe it's important to live
sensibly,” Barry said, pompously. “One cannot find fulfillment in things.”
“No, you don't understand,”
Susan blustered. He made her feel very nervous. “I only meant that I was
trying to pay off some debts and perhaps save a little for the future. You
never know what might happen.”
“I see,” he said, not seeing
at all. “Well, I hope you've made a commitment to stay on and aren't
planning to run off with your boyfriend to get married or some such nonsense.
We've had two new women teachers in the last two years that have up and gone
without so much as a goodbye and it's really unfair to the children!”
Susan was embarrassed--and rather put
out--by the turn in the conversation.
“I don't have a boyfriend,”
she said bluntly. She looked down at herself, seeing clearly her massive body,
hardly disguised in the well-cut royal blue business suit. What was he? Blind?
Did he honestly think she was some hot tomato who would turn men's heads and
have them clamoring at her door?
“I'm very committed,” she said
firmly. ...or I should be! she thought wryly.
“Good!” He turned abruptly
with a curt "Follow me" and showed Susan to her classroom. The day
passed in a blur. One incident occurred that cast a pall on the otherwise
exciting first day. Susan had been leading a rousing discussion on Shakespeare's
heroes with her advanced English class, when she felt that someone was watching
her. She glanced at her classroom door to find Barry standing there watching
her as she taught. He had an intense, unfathomable look on his face. Abruptly
he turned and left the doorway, leaving Susan feeling unsettled. It was later
that afternoon that she met her beloved best friend.
As the days passed, Susan fell in love
with Highgate and the students. It seemed she had found a haven, for the
students welcomed her with open hearts. It really wasn't surprising. Susan had
always been a popular teacher wherever she taught. Her ready smile and ability
to truly listen to the children made them feel special and cared about.
Oh, at the beginning one or two bolder
individuals, trying to rattle her cage and gain some superiority over the new
teacher, would do the obvious.
“How come you're so big?” they
asked, barely hiding a snicker behind their hand as they turned to get the
approval of the other students. The first time this had happened, Susan had
been thoroughly embarrassed. She felt she had died a little and would never be
able to face the class again. But she weathered that storm and over time
developed comebacks to get by these moments. Her philosophy became, 'Never let
them see you sweat!'
“I'm just made this way,
dear,” she'd say, smiling sweetly. “And isn't it nice that we're
all made differently? How boring it would be to live in a cookie-cutter
world.”
Once the kids found they couldn't get to
her, the issue of her size and weight became a non-issue. They adored her. She
found she could be totally relaxed with kids, totally herself, something she
still found hard with adults.
The grounds of Highgate School were also a
blessing for Susan. Highgate was situated on a large tract of private land just
outside a tiny village. The staff members were provided with small cottages on
the grounds but meals were taken in the community dining hall. An extensive
woods and a meandering stream bordered the property and it was here that Susan
indulged her love of solitary walks. It kept her in tune with nature and gave
her a chance to clear the cobwebs from her brain and have some private time to
herself.
It was on one of these walks that she had
first run into the peculiar little man who took care of the grounds at Highgate
and did all the odd jobs around the place.
“Oh hello,” Susan had said,
startled by Benny's sudden appearance on the path in front of her. He hadn't
said anything but had thrust his hand out in front of him. Gripped in his grimy
fingers was a wilting bouquet of wild flowers common to the woods.
“For me?” she'd asked, feeling
a little sorry for the obviously shy, awkward soul. In reply, he thrust his
hand closer to her. She took the flowers with a warm smile and a 'thank you.'
With a slight nod of his head, he turned and disappeared into the trees, never
once having uttered a sound. Later she asked Barry about him.
“Benny? Oh, he's harmless
enough,” he said. “He showed up at the gate a couple of years ago
looking for work. He's a bit peculiar, but he does a good job. ”Barry
looked at the bouquet now sitting in a vase on Susan's desk.
“It seems like he's taken a shine to
you.” There was a mocking tone to Barry's words that made Susan feel
uncomfortable.
“It was a nice gesture,” Susan
said defensively. “I feel rather sorry for him.”
“Careful, Susan,” Barry
continued in his superior way. “That soft sentimentality could lead you
into trouble one day.” Susan didn't like the implications.
But then she had met Gwen and realized
what a lovely, warm, person she was. Susan altered her initial opinions about
Barry. Anyone married to such a woman had to have redeeming personality traits.
She was sure with time she would find them. And indeed, she had been very
thankful to have Gwen and Barry in her life when the trouble came.
Gwen's reaction to the note had been
immediate and decisive. She dialed 911 and sat with Susan as she was questioned
by the police. The police believed there was little they could do with just the
notes to go by. The notes, written on computer, were virtually untraceable.
They told Susan that they needed to catch the guy red-handed and asked for her
cooperation in setting up a sting operation.
Thus began the longest month of Susan's
life. More notes appeared from her admirer, each one angrier than the
last. Somehow he knew she had called the police, and expressed his rage at her betrayal.
He threatened revenge at being spurned. Susan was terrified, twenty-four hours
a day. She was sure a car was following her. She began to take elaborate routes
home to try to lose whoever might be behind her. Then she was positive someone
was watching her house. She took to keeping the blinds closed at all times and
waking two and three times a night to check all the doors and windows. Sleep
became a thing of the past. Dark circles appeared under her eyes and her
colleagues commented on how unwell she looked. She tried to put on a brave
face, but the strain began to show. Everything came to a head on the night of
the school drama production.
Susan had directed the show hoping to keep
her mind off her troubles. On opening night she had to stay and reset things
for the next night's performance and had been the last to leave the auditorium.
On her way to her car, her admirer struck.
Grabbing her from behind as she unlocked
her car, he dragged her towards a beat up van parked nearby. As she fought to
free herself from his iron grip the terror was mind numbing. She heard sirens
and the yelling of approaching voices. She screamed with every ounce of power
she could muster. Susan had always felt that her size would keep her safe from
attack. After all, it would take a pretty big man to be able to move her bulk.
But here she was at the mercy of this guy, and it seemed quite clear to her,
that he was smaller than she. Yet he had her under control. Fear had such a
paralyzing effect, Susan reflected later.
She could hear the man breathing heavily
as he resisted her efforts to get free. “Please don't hurt me,” she
whimpered as he maneuvered her toward his van. “Please…”
“Let go of her scumbag!!” Out
of nowhere it seemed, Susan and her attacker were surrounded by uniformed
officers. All had their firearms drawn, ready to take him down. The maniac
slackened his hold as the shock of getting caught hit him. She broke free and
stumbled to safety behind a line of armed police. As the enormity of what had
just occurred hit her, she broke down in great gulping sobs. A policewoman
helped her to her feet and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Despite its
warmth, Susan shivered uncontrollably. She watched as the uniformed officers
had her assailant spread-eagled on the ground while they searched him for
weapons and read him his rights. Within moments he was cuffed and
unceremoniously thrown into a squad car. Gently she was led to a car and driven
to police headquarters for an initial inquiry into the attack. Gwen had arrived
and in her usual motherly fashion took Susan over.
Doctors pronounced Susan physically
unharmed but cautioned her that there could be serious emotional aftershocks
from her experience. Actually Susan just felt relief, until she found out the
identity of her attacker. She was completely shocked to learn that her secret
admirer had been Benny, the school groundskeeper, the quiet, awkward little
man who Susan had barely noticed in her months at Highgate. At the trial, he
maintained his innocence of stalking Susan. But he was a strange, confused
character. Yes, he said, he had grabbed her in the parking lot but he thought
she liked him. She had written him and told him so. He had a note to prove it.
A search of his ramshackle dwelling failed to turn up the alleged letter.
However, it came out that he had dozens of photos of Susan plastered on the
walls of his shabby little house near the school. It gave Susan the creeps.
The ensuing weeks offered little relief to
Susan. The court case was swift and relatively easy. Benny pleaded not guilty
and insisted that he hadn't been stalking Susan. But Susan wasn't been Benny's
first obsession. He was wanted in a number of States for similar attacks on
women. She discovered he'd even been featured on America's Most Wanted years
before. The newspapers and television had a field day with the trial.
Susan's face was plastered all over the
place along with Benny's. She had become Benny's Botticelli Beauty in
the National Reporter, a rag she despised. '...Benny's appetite for this woman
is only matched by her obvious appetite for food...' appeared beside pictures
of the slight-built little man and her own gigantic self. There was no hiding
from the humiliation and embarrassment.
It was Gwen in the end who persuaded Susan
to take Justine up on her offer of a summer job in the Caribbean.
“It will not only keep you safely
away from those creeps from the media,” she argued, “but it's a chance
in a lifetime! Just think of it! The Caribbean...blue water, white beaches,
warm sun all the time! Don't be crazy! Go!”
And now here she was, sitting in a
luxurious motor launch, being taken to a private estate, to meet her summer
charge.
Steven Carson slammed the phone into its
cradle and uttered a particularly crude expletive. Would this day ever end!?
His office had just informed him the Japanese investors he'd been courting to
finance his latest venture, had abruptly ended all talks and were threatening
to leave unless he returned to New York immediately. He had counted on his
staff to be able to finish the deal after the months of preparation he'd
personally put into it. Exhausted and homesick, he had come home to rest and
spend much overdue time with his only child.
That was his next worry. Becca was nine, a
touchy age in any girl's life. But she seemed to be having a particularly
difficult time growing up. At times she was sullen and moody and at other times,
insecure and awkward. Steven had no experience with pre-teen girls. It was
tears or tantrums it seemed with his beloved daughter. It didn't help that her
self-image was in the dumpster. She was still enveloped in baby fat. Round,
soft, and pudgy she was at a physically awkward stage. Braces worked to
straighten a slight overbite. Glasses corrected her near-sightedness. No amount
of brushing controlled the blonde frizzy mess atop her head. When she looked in
the mirror, she saw an ugly freak. Steven saw his beautiful baby girl and
wanted to help her see that as well.
Steven would never forgive the selfish
bitch that was his ex-wife for deserting him and their only child. He hoped
wherever she was tanning that carefully toned body, she was miserable and unfulfilled.
He would never understand how a woman could willingly leave her baby behind.
Not that he would ever have wanted Becca to be subjected to her mother's whims,
erratic behavior, and easy ways. It was bad enough having to deal with the
emotional aftermath caused by each sporadic visit. No. He was happy that Becca
was safe with him. But he knew the emotional price Becca had paid for her
mother's desertion. And he wasn't sure he knew how to compensate.
He felt a profound sense of guilt, partly
for his role in the breakdown of a less than perfect marriage, and partly for
being foolish enough to have married Dierdre in the first place. He'd often
cursed the day he met her. But then he'd look at his wonderful daughter and
feel gratitude that she had been born.
He seemed to be in a constant state of
emotional turmoil. In an effort to forget his woes, he had immersed himself in
his already thriving business. It meant long periods of time away from Becca,
but she was away at boarding school throughout the school year and so he felt
she was being well taken care of. But her grades at school had suffered
terribly of late.
As Steve mulled over the dilemma created
by this business trip and his concern for his daughter, Becca was ensconced in
the kitchen with Ruthie, their island housekeeper. Becca loved the kitchen. It
was her favorite room in the house. It was always full of wonderful aromas and
Ruthie kept a supply of Becca's favorite oatmeal spice cookies on hand. And
Becca loved Ruthie. The perpetually happy woman was always ready to talk to the
lonely little girl and to share her simple island wisdom.
“Have another cookie, child,”
Ruth said. “There's no use lettin' them go to waste.”
“But Mrs. Horne says cookies make me
fat,” the girl said regretfully.
“And who is this Mrs. Horne?”
Ruth asked, disapproval evident in her face and stance.
“She's the nutritionist at school.
My gym teacher said I was too chubby and sent me to her to go on a diet.”
“A diet! Lawd, child! Does your
father know this?” Ruth's anger was evident.
“I don't know,” Becca said,
her eyes wide. She rarely saw Ruthie lose her temper.
“What kind of people put a perfectly
normal nine-year-old on a diet?” Ruth continued, more to herself than to
Becca. “Lawd, Lawd, but your father will be vexed and that's for
sure!”
“But Mommy said--”
“Humph!” Ruth responded at the
mention of Becca's mother. “That woman has no sense as well! There's
nothing wrong at all with you, child, and that's a fact!” Ruthie's island
accent got thicker as her temper flared.
“But I am pudgy,” Becca said,
a quiver in her voice. "My tummy sticks out and my butt jiggles and my
legs rub when I walk. Some of the other girls made fun of me.”
“Oh Lawd, child, you're still
growing,” Ruth said with gentle understanding. They had covered this
territory before, and Ruth thought they had settled matters. Now these teachers
had filled Becca's head with doubts again.
“Everybody is made their own
way,” she continued. “God did not intend for us all to be the same.
Look at you and me. Your skin is white and mine is brown. Is either one
wrong?” Becca shook her head, intent on Ruth's words. "Of course
not! You have yellow hair. Mine is black. Different, that's all. And bodies are
the same. We are what we are. And that's how it should be. Look at me.” She
gestured to her large, round torso. “I was a tiny little baby and look at
me now. You don't know how you will turn out until you get there. And the only
person you need please is yourself. I'm a happy woman. My family loves me. I'm
a good person. The rest is just the package we have until we go to
heaven.”
“So I shouldn't go on a diet?”
Hope gleamed in Becca's eyes.
“It's all nonsense!” Ruth said
emphatically. “You are a normal little girl. Normal little girls don't
need diets. Now, here's your cookie and I'll be talking to your father about
that school!”
Steve was already deep in thought about
the school. A normally bright girl, Becca seemed unable to concentrate or to
care. Becca's head mistress advised Steven that his daughter missed her mother,
or rather the presence of a mother figure in her life. She went on to state
that these pre-teen years could be very difficult for a girl as her body
changed and she began the journey to womanhood. She was fraught with
conflicting feelings and confusion. And it wasn't always easy to discuss such
things with a father. She advised Steven to find a female family member or hire
a governess that could help Becca through these difficult years.
The conversation made Steven feel even
guiltier than before. He was desperate to help his little girl. So, he hired a
tutor for the summer in the hopes that intensive one-to-one teaching would help
Becca gain back some of her academic standing. Justine had spoken highly of the
woman, some relative of hers, he thought, stating her teaching qualifications
and years of experience in an exclusive private school. He hoped she could also
help Becca with her personal needs. Why she would want to come all this way to
tutor during her summer break and why he would take Justine's advice on
anything, was beyond him, but he was grateful just the same.
Justine Lafontaine. He'd have to do
something about her when he got back from New York. She was beginning to
wheedle her way into his life again and he was determined to bring that to a
stop. He thought he had made it patently clear to her long ago she and he would
never be an item. In fact, at one point he was sure that she and his brother
Marty were getting close. But it appeared that he'd been wrong because Justine
had taken to showing up on his doorstep again, attempting to make herself
indispensable.
Steven cursed again. The teacher was
arriving today. But he had to go to New York. He couldn't afford to blow the
Japanese money. He picked up the phone. A groggy voice answered.
“Marty? I need to ask a
favor.”
“Hey big brother. What's shakin'?
You finally taking me up on my offer to scare up a date for ya?”
Steven chuckled at the response.
“No, I don't need you to introduce me to any girls. That kind of trouble
I don't need! I need you to come stay at the house and watch Becca for me while
I make a quick trip to New York.”
“Sure, no problem.”
Relief transformed Steven's face and he
smiled. "Thanks little brother. I owe you. Can you get here in the next
hour?”
“Sure.”
“Good. By the way, Becca's tutor is
arriving sometime today. I'd like you to make her feel welcome and get her
settled in. I have a feeling that Becca isn't going to make things easy for
her.”
“What's the little monster done
now?” Marty chuckled.
Steven smiled wryly. "Well, you know
how she feels about Justine and--”
“What's the Ice Queen got to do with
it?" Marty's humor had disappeared from his voice. "Is she sniffing
around your bank account again, wedding bells in her eyes? Did she try to get
you to send Becca to her mother again?”
Steven sighed, “No. You know I'd
never stand for that sort of garbage. It's just that Justine recommended this
woman. She's a relative of some sort and very qualified. That connection was
enough for Becca to hate her on spec.”
“So what does teach look like?
Another bleached-blonde bombshell?”
“I have no idea what she looks like,
but behave yourself anyway. She's Becca's teacher!”
“Okey-dokey, bro'. You're the
boss.”
Steven smiled. “Like anything I say
will stop you! Anyway, I'm leaving shortly. Just hold the fort until I can get
back.”
“Just leave it to me, big
brother.”
Martin Carson was Steve's younger brother
by three years. He was charming, lovable, sweet, and he didn't have a
responsible bone in his body. At least, that's how he wanted the world to
perceive him. He lived on the income from an inheritance subsidized by the odd
paying job from his brother. He enjoyed wine, women and song, not necessarily
in that order. All who met him were instantly charmed and exasperated by the
dark-haired playboy. But Steven knew beyond any doubt that Marty would move
heaven and earth to protect and care for his niece.
Steven packed quickly and called for his
car. It would take him to his private airstrip where he would board his
corporate jet for the brief flight to New York. As he sped away in one
direction, Susan arrived from another. As the launch bumped against the dock,
she woke from her heat-induced drowse and took the first look at her summer
residence. Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened as she took in the sprawling
glass and stone house perched on the hill, the sun glinting off the windows.
Built in a u-shape around an inner courtyard, the house nestled amidst the
tropical greenery as if it had sprouted there. Careful landscaping had created
a partnership between man-made contrivance and nature's bounty. She'd never
anticipated the sheer beauty of the home.
A steep incline led from the dock to the
front lawn of the residence. A cleverly designed pathway zigzagged up the hill
allowing a leisurely easy climb, while providing alternating breathtaking ocean
vistas and island glory.
Reaching the summit, she was enchanted by
the compact expanse of neat, velvety lawn, the crushed white stone of the
circular drive, the low-roofed veranda stretching across the front of the
house, and the lavish, outrageously colored gardens edging along the veranda.
It was such a pleasure for the eye that Susan was immediately in love with this
piece of paradise.
After knocking on the massive carved front
door, she was greeted by a uniformed housekeeper. Ruth was an island native. A
large black woman with an irrepressible smile and easy laugh, she took great
pride in keeping Mr. Steve's home clean, orderly and comfortable. As Ruth led
Susan through the house, she chattered amiably about Susan's new employer and
his young daughter.
“You'll have your hands full with
that one,” she said in her singsong voice as she chuckled loudly.
“Oh?” Susan's curiosity was
roused.
“Don't get me wrong,” Ruth
said with another warm chuckle. “I love that child. But she's pining for
her mother, I think. It's a sad thing.”
“What happened to her mother?”
“That one!” Ruth said, making
it sound like an oath. “She went and left her own daughter and husband
many years ago. They're divorced now, thank you Lawd, and that's the best thing
that ever happened. But my Becca misses having a woman in her life. If you ask
me, this boarding school is a bad influence on the child.”
“She has you,” Susan said.
“She's obviously lucky in that regard. You seem to really love
her.”
“That I do, miss,” Ruth said
with feeling. “And I'd do anything for her. But I'm not her mother. I
keep hoping Mr. Steve will meet a nice woman and get settled again.” Ruth
stopped a moment and looked speculatively at Susan. “Are you married
miss?”
Susan blushed to the roots of her hair.
She wasn't used to such directness.
“No, I'm not,” she stammered
and then walked hurriedly ahead of the housekeeper. Attempting to change the subject,
she said, “What a beautiful home!”
Ruth beamed at the compliment, her
proprietary air evident. Thus began a long diatribe on the history of the house
and the island. Susan was enthralled at Ruth's account. But she couldn't help
harkening back to earlier words.
So Becca, her new student, was troubled.
Susan wondered why this created such a sense of disquiet.
Susan was overwhelmed with the house's
interior. It was filled with rich warm color and texture. Local artwork covered
the walls, the colors brilliant, the style simple and folksy. Plush inviting
chairs and sofas filled the rooms. Everything sparkled and glowed, clean and
well cared for. Ample windows offered endless views of the island's beauty.
Within the u-shaped rear courtyard was a huge free-form swimming pool
surrounded by patios and gardens, trickling fountains and tasteful sculptures.
At the foot of the pool was a quaint guesthouse. It was here that the
housekeeper led her.
Built to blend well with the main house,
it was nonetheless a separate entity, having its own little flower gardens and
front stoop. Susan could see frothy lace curtains in the windows. The door was
a miniature version of the main house's massive carved entrance.
“I hope you'll be comfortable here,
miss,” Ruth said warmly. “You just call for Ruthie if there's
something you need.”
“Thank you Ruth,” Susan
replied with equal warmth. She was charmed by the island woman's lilting voice
and genuine welcome. "And please, call me Susan, won't you?”
Ruth smiled. “I couldn't do that,
but I could manage 'Miss Susan.' And miss? You look like you're just what Becca
needs.” With that cryptic remark, Ruth left her to unpack and get
settled.
Susan surveyed her surroundings. The
guesthouse was a cozy, chintz-filled cottage consisting of a book-lined sitting
room, a surprisingly large bedroom suite, and a little kitchenette, fully
stocked she was pleased to discover. She entered the bedroom and was gratified
to find a full queen-size bed covered in a vivid locally woven spread.
Everything about the cottage was bright, cheery and welcoming. There was a
sense of coming home. Maybe she had made the best choice for the summer after
all. Now if her charge turned out to be civilized, she might just have a
pleasant time of it. It didn't take her long to unpack and she decided a stroll
around the grounds to get oriented was in order.
Everything vibrated with color and
vitality. The flora, the sky, the water, the very earth seemed to exude life
force. After the stress of the preceding months, Susan could feel her entire
nervous system begin to unwind. She felt free for the first time in a long
time. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes and drank in the healing rays
of the sun.
“Ah, what an enticing picture.”
The deep voice startled Susan, causing her to jump. Opening her eyes she met
the smiling blue eyes of an extremely attractive man. She blushed.
“Mmm. That's also charming,”
Marty said. “A blushing woman. I didn't know they still existed.”
This made Susan blush even more. And worse, her tongue seemed to be glued to
the roof of her mouth.
“I'm sorry. I should introduce
myself. I'm Martin Carson, your illustrious employer's younger and more likable
brother.” They shook hands. Susan still hadn't spoken.
He looked at her with mock
inquisitiveness. “And you are?” Susan was mortified but came to her
senses.
“I'm sorry. I'm usually not such a
ninny.” Taking a deep breath, she smiled, stuck out her hand and said,
“I'm Susan Shaw. I'm happy to meet you.”
“And I'm happy to meet you.”
He chuckled again, shaking her hand.
They both laughed, releasing the tension
and creating an instant camaraderie.
“Well,” Marty said, surveying
the patio. “We could blame it all on the tropical breezes and incessant
sun!”
Laughing, Susan cast her eye to her
surroundings. "Ah, yes, it would be easy to lose yourself here or at the
very least, your senses.”
“Is that what you're trying to do?
Lose yourself?” Marty asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.
“Maybe I want to find myself instead,”
she quipped in return, suddenly pensive.
“Hmmm, a philosopher and a
teacher.” Marty eyed her as if she were a prize exhibit. "My brother
is getting a bargain, I see.”
Susan laughed at his silly banter.
“Speaking of your brother, where is he?”
“His Lordship regrets but he was
called away on business.” Marty bowed at the waist. “I stand here
in his stead. My time is at your disposal, m'lady.”
“Well, Sir Knight,” Susan
continued in the same vein, “perhaps you could lead me to my student that
I might make her acquaintance.”
“My pleasure, fair maiden.”
Extending his arm, he clicked his heels in mock salute. She graciously bowed
her head and placed her hand on his arm. Like royalty of old they glided toward
the house where a glimpse of their reflection in the glass caused them to
collapse in helpless laughter.
“What's the big joke, Uncle
Marty?” said the high-pitched voice behind them. "Your face?”
The pudgy little girl burst into forced laughter.
“Careful there, babycakes, I might
take that personally!” Susan watched as Marty lunged at the girl and
wrapped her in a bear hug, giving the top of her head a playful rub with his
knuckle. This must be Becca, Susan thought, as she observed her new charge with
interest. She didn't look particularly intimidating. She was squealing with
abandon as Marty growled and chased her around the pool. The girl seemed to be
quite relaxed in her uncle's presence as they engaged in harmless horseplay.
Obviously this was normal behavior for the two of them. She had to smile. The
giggles and good-natured insults and threats were comical in the extreme.
At last they stopped horsing around and
turned their attention to Susan. Marty grinned and winked irreverently. She put
her best smile on and focused her eyes on the suspicious eyes of the young
girl.
“Hello, Becca,” she began.
“I'm so happy to meet you.”
Becca stared at her, offering no response.
Hostility seemed to crackle from her.
Susan felt decidedly uncomfortable but she
also knew these first few moments were crucial. “I hope we'll be able to
be friends.”
Becca snorted a derisive reply and
promptly walked away. Susan was disappointed that she and Becca hadn't hit it
off. Obviously, Ruth had been right. She'd have her hands full with this one.
“You'll have to excuse my niece's
less than warm reception,” Marty said apologetically. “She's
actually a great kid. She's just had a rough time lately. She doesn't trust too
easily.”
“Don't worry,” Susan
responded. “I've worked with kids for a long time. I know when I'm being
given the business. It's pretty normal. I'm confident that Becca and I will
become friends eventually.”
“Well then,” Marty said with a
smile, “how about we scare up Ruthie and get us some truly magnificent
island chow while little Princess Sunshine decides whether she's going to bark
or bite? Are you hungry?”
At that, Susan's stomach growled and she
realized she hadn't eaten since the plane.
“Actually, some lunch would go down
pretty good right now,” she said patting her ample stomach. “Not
that I'd fade away in a hurry.”
“Nonsense,” Marty said,”
The swill you probably had on the plane wouldn't satisfy a gnat. A healthy girl
like you needs her nourishment. Let's go!”
Susan felt a glow as she followed Marty
into the cool interior of the house. He hadn't made an issue of her size. And
she'd given him an opening to do so! She couldn't remember a time when someone
didn't make some comment about what or when or how she ate. Her sister had
always given her a hard time about her weight. Her favorite comment was, Thank
goodness we're fraternal twins instead of identical so that at least I didn't
get the fat gene. It always hurt Susan to the core when her sister said
these thoughtlessly cruel things. But, rather than stand up for herself, or
chastise her vain and selfish younger sibling, Susan always managed to find an
excuse to forgive her. She was, after all, the eldest and needed to be mature
enough to forgive these occasional outbursts of nastiness from Justine.
Right from the start, Justine had been a
demanding and self-centered person. As a child she turned the tears or the
charm on and off as if they were a tap. She loved her big sister, but she was
also uncommonly mean to her.
Their grandparents hadn't helped. They had
often made statements about Justine getting the beauty and Susan getting the
brains.
When Justine had informed Susan of her
plans to become a model, Susan had, as usual, tried to be sensible and get her
headstrong sibling to think her decision through clearly.
“Juss, please think about
this,” Susan had pleaded. “So few girls make it in the modeling
business.”
“And you don't think I'm good
enough?” Justine had snapped.
“It's not that,” Susan said,
trying to reason. “Of course you're beautiful. But modeling is a chancy
business. It's ninety-five percent luck. I'd hate to see you get your hopes up
and get hurt.”
“You're just jealous,” Justine
said, a disdainful look marring her lovely face.
“I'm what?” Susan's face
reddened at her sister's verbal attack.
“That's what this is all
about,” Justine continued, crossing her arms and peering arrogantly at
Susan. “You're jealous because I can stay thin and you can't! I could be
a model and with those hips, you can't! I can be normal but you can't!”
Her outburst was greeted by silence. Susan
seethed at the injustice of Justine's words, yet part of her believed them.
“Fine, Justine,” Susan said.
“If you want to risk yourself on such a foolish venture, by all means be
my guest! But for the record, I am as normal as you are. I can't help being
fat, but you sure as hell can help being rude!”
With that she swiftly left her sister's
presence before Justine saw the tears welling in her eyes. She'd be damned
before she'd let the selfish brat see that she had hurt her. It seemed as if
Justine saw no harm in being completely churlish toward Susan.
Even perfect strangers had no qualms about
commenting on her food intake. She'd even had a woman remove a carton of ice
cream from her shopping cart once, commenting indignantly that she should have
more sense with her weight problem. She gazed at Marty for a moment. It was so
rare and nice to have someone just express that it was all right for her to
eat. Susan didn't know what to make of it.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur
of lunching, talking, and laughing. Marty was a thoroughly entertaining man and
went out of his way to make her laugh with outrageous stories and imitations.
Susan felt completely comfortable and truly drawn to this man. Her skin took on
a rosy glow and her eyes sparkled. She felt more light-hearted than she had
since her childhood.
As the sun went down and Ruth came to call
them to the dinner table, Susan realized that she and Marty had spent an entire
day just being together and the hours had flown. She couldn't wait to write
Gwen and tell her all about it. She felt a little guilty that she hadn't spent
the time bonding with Becca, but she squashed this thought quickly. She
deserved one restful summer day before beginning work.
Marty kept everyone engaged in banter and
laughter throughout dinner. Even Becca let down her guard and quipped with her
uncle and Susan. They spent the evening playing Scrabble and when Ruth reminded
Becca of her bedtime, Susan realized that she too was exhausted. It had been
quite a day all round. And here she was about to go to bed in the Caribbean, so
far from her personal problems.
Marty insisted on walking Susan out to the
guesthouse. As they strolled by the pool, Marty asked Susan about Justine.
“I find it hard to believe you two
are related,” he said honestly. “You're so different.”
“Different good or different
bad?” Susan asked guardedly.
“You? Good definitely!” Susan
let out a soft sigh. He continued. “I don't mean to be disrespectful or
anything but I have to say I don't think very highly of Justine.”
“Oh?” Susan said, curious now.
“She's rather self-absorbed,”
he said. “Not like you. You're really genuine and sweet. You're so easy
to be around. She's all hard edges and full of herself.”
Susan smiled. She couldn't argue.
“Justine and I didn't have it easy as kids. We really relied on each
other growing up. I was the elder, so I kind of raised Justine. I guess she got
pretty spoiled. She's always known how to boss everyone around. Becoming a
model didn't help that. She just learned to do it better. But she's so
gorgeous, she seems to get away with it.”
“I don't think she's so
gorgeous!” Marty said emphatically, almost too emphatically.
“Actually, ” he said, eyeing Susan closely, “you're much
prettier in many ways than she is.”
Susan couldn't believe her ears. No man
had ever said this to her before.
“Well, I don't know about
that,” she argued. “Most people are just intimidated or put off by
my size. I've never been called pretty before.”
Marty shook his head. “Most people
can be so stupid. You're tall and carry your weight gracefully. You're well proportioned
and attractive. What's not to find pretty? Besides, real beauty comes from the
inside. And, inside, you're very pretty!”
Susan had no reply to all the unexpected
flattery. She just felt her body suddenly become very light and lovely. Heat
emanated from her cheeks and she had an irresistible urge to giggle
uncontrollably.
“Thank you for that Marty,”
she said softly. Then her face took on a serious demeanor. “Marty, tell
me about Becca's mother.”
“Dierdre?” He almost spat out
the name. “Why do you ask?
Susan felt a weight of sadness in her
heart. "I find it so hard to believe that any woman would willingly leave
her only child and rarely come to see her.”
Marty snorted in derision. "You'd
have to know her to understand. You see, Dierdre is the product of privilege.
She is the very spoiled, highly indulged only daughter of Aubrey Chase.”
“The oil baron?” Susan was
surprised.
“The very one,” Marty said,
distaste evident in his voice. “Mr. Chase's baby girl was raised by the
very best governesses, went to the very best schools, was finished in
Switzerland, debuted at eighteen and was adored by all who met her for her
dazzling beauty. And she is beautiful. As beautiful as a king cobra
snake is beautiful. She's all surface and no substance. As we speak she is on
her third marriage. Steve was her first, and she's managed to marry up
each time. Dierdre's the quintessential gold-digger and may she rot in
hell!”
Susan winced at the vehemence in Marty's
voice. “But your brother must have loved her at one time,” she
said.
“Yes, very much,” Marty said
bitterly. “They met at a party in London. Steven was there on business
and was invited to a cocktail party in honor of some film star's movie opening
or something. These affairs are always attended by actors, directors, models,
business moguls and the usual jet-set hangers-on. Dierdre was a rather
successful model, being touted as the next great face. Steve was swept away by
her glamour and savoir faire. And she was devious enough to recognize a meal
ticket when she saw one. Her father was rattling her chain about making her own
way in the world like he had, and she really wasn't too interested in working
much. Modeling was beginning to be too much like work, so she decided on
marrying success. She became what Steven thought was his dream woman, saying
all the right things and playing him just like a fiddle. And it worked. Before
Steven had time to come up for air, they were married and almost immediately,
Becca was on the way. That's when it all began to fall apart."
"Really?" Susan said. "What
happened?"
Marty shook his head. "You see,
Dierdre was interested in marrying well and living well. But she liked being
the center of attention. She really had no interest in sharing center stage
with a baby. She tried to talk Steven into letting her abort citing that they
were too young or too newly married or some such nonsense. Steven was
horrified. Of course, he wouldn't hear of it. She was furious. It was a
horrible pregnancy. As soon as Becca was born, Dierdre hired a nurse and a
nanny and went back to modeling. To his credit, Steve tried to keep it working
for Becca's sake. But he and Dierdre drifted even further apart. The fighting
became horrendous and finally Dierdre just didn't come home anymore. Steven got
a letter by way of her lawyer saying she was filing for divorce and he could
have custody of Becca. And that was that. Frankly, I was relieved to see it
over.”
“Poor baby,” Susan murmured.
“Who? Becca or Steven?” Marty
said with his usual twist of humor.
“Well, I was referring to
Becca,” Susan said, "but I feel sorry for Steven too, having to
suffer such unhappiness.”
“Oh, Steven's okay,” Marty
said with a smile. “Once he realized her true character, he got over her
pretty fast. And he hasn't let her off the hook easily either. He's insisted
Dierdre see Becca at least once a year. He feels Becca has a right to know her
natural mother. But she's slacked off this last couple of years, ever since she
married Count LaBianca, hubby number three. I'm sure that's why my niece is
acting up these days.”
“That poor child.” Susan
sighed.
“You really have a good heart, don't
you, teach?” Marty said seriously.
“I like to think so.”
At the door of the cottage Susan turned
and put out her hand.
“Thank you for a lovely day,
Marty,” she said. “I can't remember ever enjoying myself so
much.”
“Ah, it's all part of the service,
teach,” he said. “See you in the morning. Sweet dreams!”
She watched him walk back to the house. He
was so attractive and kind as well. He was a little under her 5'11", but
he carried himself like a taller man. She really didn't notice the discrepancy
in height, and she felt he hadn't either. She liked his longish dark hair and
sparkling blue eyes. She especially liked his big, generous smile. She felt her
heart tug a little in his direction and realized that he'd done a pretty good
job of sweeping her off her feet. No easy task, either, considering her size.
She smiled to herself.
Susan had never found it easy to date. She
had always been suspicious of men's motives if they asked her out, with good
reason. Her entire life she had been told that her appearance was unacceptable.
Justine had always been held up as the paragon of physical beauty. It had hurt,
but she had believed it.
The first time someone asked Susan out was
in the eighth grade. There had been only one boy taller than her in the whole
class and she'd been mooning about him for weeks. He offered to meet her at a
teen dance in town one Friday night. She'd felt like Cinderella the whole
evening. The boy danced exclusively with her, even the slow dances, and he held
her hand between songs. It was her first taste of being normal.
Unfortunately, her grandmother arrived at
eleven to take her home. She didn't want to leave, but she wouldn't think of
disobeying her grandma. The next day, the boy treated her like she had a
contagious disease and even made fun of her in front of his buddies. She
couldn't understand why he was behaving like this. It could only be her looks,
she thought. She was thoroughly crushed.
It was another three years before she was
asked out again. She cringed as she remembered the drive-in theatre and her
fight to keep the boy's hands off her breasts, and her shirt on her body. In
the end, he called her a fat bitch and angrily drove her directly home. The
remainder of her time at school that year had been a nightmare of false rumors
regarding her virtue or lack thereof.
So it was only natural that she had become
suspicious of the men she met and their motives regarding her, until Marty that
is. He seemed to genuinely like her. And he treated her so normally!
Sweet dreams indeed! The sweetest!
The next morning brought a glorious
breakfast of tropical fruit and flaky croissants served on the patio. Marty and
Susan fell easily into their comfortable patter, and a sleepy Becca stumbled
out to the table, slowly rousing herself to wakefulness. The cool breeze was a
welcome relief from the hot tropical sun. Susan proposed that she and Becca
spend the morning working on schoolwork in the cool quiet of her cottage and
the rest of the day exploring the island. Marty volunteered to act as chauffeur
and squire them in his Range Rover. Both Susan and Becca jumped at the chance.
The morning passed swiftly. Becca proved
herself to be an extremely capable student. She was rather reluctant at first,
but Susan was an experienced teacher. She lavishly praised Becca's first attempts
at writing a journal entry about her school and studies. The little girl
blossomed under the glow of Susan's approval and started seriously trying to
show what she could do. She demonstrated an aptitude for math and problem
solving, which thrilled Susan. Her reading was a little hesitant, but some
daily practice would soon have her up to speed. By the end of the morning the
student and the teacher had become fast friends. And Becca even wrapped her
arms around Susan's ample waist and hugged her fiercely as they broke for
lunch.
“Goodness!” Susan said in
surprise. "What's all this for?”
Becca looked at her earnestly.
“You're so nice!”
Susan smiled at the girl's sincerity.
“Didn't you expect me to be?”
“Not really,” Becca responded.
“I don't like most of my teachers at school and I knew you were related
to Justine. And I hate her!”
“Hate her?” Susan was shocked.
She knew her sister was difficult but she didn't feel she was a monster. What
had she done to this little girl to exact such a strong response? “Why do
you hate her?”
“She likes Dad,” Becca said
with venom in her voice. “And she doesn't like me. She says I'm too
chubby. I know she'd like me to go away so she could have Dad all to
herself.”
Susan suddenly understood why Becca would
feel threatened by Justine. It was a normal reaction. Susan sighed. How to
explain someone as complex as Justine to a nine-year-old.
“Honey,” she began carefully,
“Justine isn't a very happy person.”
“She's not?” Becca turned
interested eyes toward Susan.
“No,” Susan continued,
searching for the right words. “Even though she's very beautiful by most
people's standards, I don't think she's confident. One way that insecure people
deal with these feelings is to try to make everyone around them feel the same.
I'm not saying it's right, but it happens.”
“Did she ever do it to you?”
Becca was intent on Susan's reply.
“Yes, she did. Many, many
times,” Susan said truthfully. “And it hurt my feelings. But I grew
to understand why she was doing it and I try my best not to let it bother me so
much.”
“It bothers me,” Becca said
with characteristic candor. “She makes me really mad. That's why I hate
her!”
“Well Becca,” Susan said carefully,
“you can waste your energy being angry or you can choose to stand up to
her and tell her you like yourself just the way you are and that if she
doesn't, well that's her loss.”
“Is that what you do?” Becca
asked.
“Yep, sometimes,” Susan
replied, not entirely truthful.
“Then I will too!” Becca said
so firmly that Susan grinned. “But I still think she wants Daddy to send
me away.”
“How does your dad feel about this?
Have you told him how you feel?” Susan asked gently.
“No. Why should I?”
“I'm sure if your dad knew how you
felt he'd reassure you about how much he loves you and about how important you
are to him.” Susan smiled warmly at Becca as the girl thought for a
moment.
“But what if he likes Justine
better?” Becca asked with a worried expression on her freckled face.
“Trust me. That could never happen.
Have you asked him about Justine?” Again, Becca indicated the negative
with a shake of her head. “Well,” Susan continued, “it seems
to me that you're long overdue for a heart-to-heart talk with your father. Why
don't you make a point of it as soon as he gets back? Be honest with him. I
guarantee that you will feel much better once you do.”
“You think so?” Becca sounded
so unsure of herself. How distant was her father if he didn't even notice how
needy his daughter was of his attention? Susan could feel herself getting a
little resentful of the man.
“I do,” Susan affirmed.
"Now, how about a swim before lunch to get our blood moving again after
all that brain work.”
“I don't swim very well,”
Becca said.
“Well, I do,” Susan said
firmly. “And I'll be there to help you if you like.”
With that the two got into their suits and
jumped in the pool. Water was Susan's friend. In the water, Susan felt graceful
and light and athletic. She reveled in any opportunity to swim. Of course, she
was limited on where she could indulge her passion for water. She avoided
beaches. She refused to put herself in a position to be publicly ridiculed. Fat
girls in bathing suits were still an obvious target. She hated public pools for
the same reason. Besides, they were always so crowded. She couldn't do laps
without running into another body.
Her new boss's pool was heavenly. The warm
water caressed her skin. She started a vigorous breaststroke up and down the
length of the pool. The play of her muscles felt wonderful. All the remaining
stresses and strains of the past months melted away and when she stopped to
catch her breath, she tingled all over.
“An expert swimmer too?” She
heard Marty's voice say in admiration. “Is there no end to your
accomplishments?”
She giggled in spite of herself.
“Cut it out, you smooth talker, you. I'm just getting a little
exercise.”
“Well,” he replied, “it
was a little like watching Esther Williams plying the waves.”
“Esther who?” Becca asked,
confusion evident on her face. “Is that your new girlfriend?”
The two adults collapsed into gales of
laughter, much to the child's annoyance. Marty ran to change into his suit and
there followed an hour's worth of horseplay in the pool. They all devoured
lunch as if it was their last good meal, and then set out in the bone-rattling
jeep to give Susan a tour of the little island.
From end to end, the island wasn't more
than four miles long. Her boss had built a narrow dirt road around the
circumference allowing them a thorough tour of his little paradise.
The house was perched on the highest point
of the island offering a splendid view of the section of Quintero Primo
sporting the Four Winds resort. This made for a short two-mile trip from island
to island by launch. Susan was delighted to see that they had their own private
ocean beach on the opposite end of the property. A small lagoon harbored a
clean white strip of sand, and calm clear ocean water. They took time to paddle
in the gentle waves, collect shells along the shore and eat the delicious snack
that Ruth had packed for them.
As their island tour continued, they
passed a small private airfield complete with a small hangar. Marty explained
that Steven had built the airfield when he decided to make the island his
permanent home. He had a small executive jet and a personal pilot and was able
to keep his business in New York.
“It sounds as if your brother is a
wealthy man,” Susan said, admiring the lifestyle that had produced this
island home.
“Well, we were lucky,” Marty
said. “Our father started the business and built it to a small empire.
Big brother has taken it international. Right now, he's negotiating some big
deal with the Japanese.”
"Susan could hear the pride in
Marty's voice.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do
you work in the business?”
“No ma'am! I realized long ago that
I didn't have the same attachment to the company that my brother did. When my
mother died, she left me a rather generous inheritance. And I guess you could
say I act as kind of an assistant to my brother, like a glorified gofer.”
Susan smiled at his self-depreciating
description.
“You make it sound so humble,”
she said. “Don't you mind that your brother has all the control?”
“Are you kidding?” Marty
quipped. “No way. I've seen how hard he works. How could I squire
beautiful babes and visit the various playgrounds of the world if I were
chained to a desk all the time? Believe me, Steve is the best man for the job.
And he understands me pretty well. It's just as it should be. Now, what's next
on our agenda?”
The day was gloriously hot. Marty
admonished Susan to lather on the sunscreen because of her fair, redhead's
skin. Susan was touched by his concern and felt special under his care. The
scenery was breathtaking. The greens were greener than any Susan had ever seen.
Flowers were spectacular in their size and hues. The vistas were unbelievable.
Susan wished she had brought a camera and swore to make this trek again with
one. The day ended too soon. They were all silent on the ride home, contentment
filling them to repletion. Susan felt that if she died right then, she would
have had a perfect day as her last.
Susan, Becca and Marty spent the evening
playing Scrabble, watching TV, and eating Ruth's amazing cooking. Steaks
barbecued to perfection and a crisp, ice-cold salad were followed by a
sumptuous coconut cream pie. Bedtime was a welcome event and Susan fell into a
deep sleep with visions of sexy blue eyes floating in front of her. A wide
smile covered her slumbering face.
The next two days passed much like the
first. Lessons in the relative cool and comfort of the morning, followed by a
swim. Susan coached Becca on her swimming and the girl became braver in the
water. She wanted to be able to swim laps, just like Miss Shaw, and
showed her determination to succeed in her concentration on the lessons each
day. They had even planned to spend an afternoon at the private beach swimming
in the ocean.
Their afternoons were spent shopping in
Dunlee on Quintero Primo and at the resort, or touring historical sites around
the big island all accompanied by the affable Marty. They had decided to adopt
the island habit of an afternoon nap, and after their active adventures it was
much needed. At dinner on Susan's fifth day, Marty proposed an outing just for
adults.
“How about you and me get all dolled
up and hit the town tonight?”
“Really?” Susan replied, not
really believing him to be serious. "And just what did you have in
mind?”
“I thought maybe we'd go over to the
Four Winds Resort and gamble, maybe do a little dancing, have some laughs.
You've been working like a Trojan with the monster...” This met with a
verbal protest from Becca, much to the amusement of her uncle. "...and I
thought you might like a change of pace, meet some of the local riff-raff I
hang out with. What do you say?”
Susan was thrilled. Marty was asking her
on a date! And she would be meeting his friends. He must like her! Susan didn't
pause for long.
“I'd be delighted,” she said
emphatically. Maybe a little too emphatically.
"Great." He flashed a smile.
"Be ready by nine. I'll call for the launch."
Susan skipped dessert to rush out to her
cottage and prepare for the evening. She wanted to look great for Marty and it
was going to take some work. She didn't have a large evening wardrobe, but
she'd been fortunate to find a designer of large-size fashions in her hometown
and had gotten a couple of dressy outfits made for the few times she went out.
She decided on a pair of emerald green
palazzo pants topped by an elegant multicolored tunic in jewel tones,
glittering with sequins. Its color complemented her bronze hair and newly
acquired tan. Its daring neckline offered an enticing glimpse of Susan's ample
cleavage. A pair of comfy dress flats and an emerald silk evening bag completed
the ensemble. She indulged in a long hot shower. Hot rolling her hair gave it
volume and curl that she piled on top of her head. Her makeup emphasized her
beautiful eyes and full lips. Long dangling earrings drew attention to the soft
curve of her jaw and neck. In the end, Susan could hardly believe it was
herself that stared back from the mirror. She looked...well...she looked
glamorous!
A long wolf whistle from Marty as she
entered the sitting room of the main house confirmed her opinion.
"Wow, you look fantastic, Miss
Shaw!!" Becca gasped in admiration.
"I second that opinion," Marty
said. "You'll be the prettiest woman there."
Susan blushed but was delighted by the
unaccustomed attention.
It was one of those perfect Caribbean
nights. The soft warm breeze caressed Susan's skin. The moon danced on the
water creating the illusion that the stars had come down from the night sky to
rest on the gentle waves. Sound took on a peculiar quality, as it does on the
water after dark. Susan fancied she could hear the sound of the music from a
steel drum band, but was that only her imagination ignited by the romantic
atmosphere?
She looked at Marty and smiled shyly. He's
really very attractive, she thought. In her heart the hope grew that he harbored
the same feelings.
The launch whisked them directly to the
dock at the Four Winds Resort. It was a new, posh, trendy facility catering to
the young to middle aged professionals with money to burn and a thirst for
excitement. Renowned for it's excellent food and top-notch entertainment, it
sported a small but elegant casino, several restaurants, a disco, a piano bar,
and a small theatre for the regular Vegas style shows that were featured.
Susan had never been to any place quite so
stylish and hip She felt rather self-conscious and some of the glow had gone
for the moment. She wondered in a mild panic if she looked okay, if her outfit
was dressy enough or too dressy, if her hair was still full and in control and
if Marty was still glad he had brought her.
In the next moment, Susan's doubts were
swept away. Marty put his hand on the small of her back and steered her toward
a group of exuberant partiers on the far side of the lobby.
"Hey look what the wind blew
in!" yelled an obviously tipsy older man in the group. "Marty, boy,
how the hell are ya?"
"A lot more sober than you,"
Marty said, with a grin. "Gang, meet Susan. Susan, meet the Gang."
"Hi Susan!" they yelled in
unison. Susan's face felt flushed but she smiled and waved self-consciously.
"Don't worry about names,
teach." Marty continued." You'll get to know everyone soon enough.
Now, what's on the agenda tonight, boys and girls?"
Susan felt swept along on a tidal wave.
She was overwhelmed by the noise, the energy, the laughter and occasional
off-key bursts of song. They began by watching an up and coming comic who was
playing in one of the bars. He was outrageously hilarious and Susan, like the
others, soon had tears of laughter streaming down her face. Next followed some
vigorous dancing in the disco. All of this was new to Susan, and she felt
decidedly awkward at first. But Marty kept dragging her onto the dance floor
and encouraging her to loosen up. Before long, she allowed herself to get lost
in the beat and move instinctively. She had to admit, it felt wonderful. Only
one brief moment soured the evening's fun. While in the ladies room, one of the
revelers, named Cece, Susan thought, looked at Susan rather quizzically.
"I hope you don't mind my
saying," she began. Susan braced herself. "But you're not like any of
Marty's...um... usual girls. How did you meet?"
Susan plastered a weak smile on her face
and tried to brazen it out.
"Marty's just a friend. I work for
his brother. I'm tutoring his daughter for the summer."
The light of understanding came over the
woman's pinched rather vacuous face. "Oh, I get it. Steve asked Marty to
take you out. Like a night off or a bonus or something."
Susan was mortified. She watched as this
creature finished putting new lipstick on and with a weak, "See ya,"
trotted out of the room. Susan looked at her reflection.
"Or something," she whispered.
She paled and her freckles stood out in
stark relief. Blue shadows appeared under her eyes. Pain was written across her
face. This woman, and probably Marty's other friends, assumed she was some sort
of charity case foisted on Marty by his brother. Why shouldn't they? What was a
fat cow like her doing out with a hunk like Marty? Tears threatened to well up,
but she swallowed them down and splashed cold water on her face. Pinching her
cheeks, she took a deep breath and vowed to get through the rest of the
evening.
The rest of the evening passed like a bad
nightmare, but Susan forced herself to laugh at the right places and comment on
the right things. She was determined not to ruin Marty's evening. Only her
heart wasn't in it.
In the launch she was quiet and subdued.
Marty kept trying to engage her in banter but exhaustion and heartache had
finally hit her. And she remained mute as he walked her back to her cottage
later.
"Are you all right Susan?"
Concern was evident in Marty's voice. "Did you have a good time?"
She smiled wanly. "Sure Marty.
Thanks."
"I did too," he said still
looking puzzled at her attitude. "Maybe we can do it again some
time."
"Um...I don't know. " Susan
hedged.
"All right," Marty said,
"what happened? Did something happen at the resort?"
"I'm okay, really," Susan
insisted.
"Well, goodnight then," Marty
said, unconvinced. As he started to walk away, Susan grabbed her resolve and
called him back.
"Marty!" He turned expectantly.
She continued a little nervously. She was taking a big chance. But she had to
know. "Marty, I need to ask you...I mean, I want to know... I mean...DAMN!
Marty, do you like me?"
Marty smiled warmly." Of course I do,
teach. You're a nice lady and we've had a lot of fun the last few days.
Why?"
"No Marty," Susan continued, her
hands clenched to keep them from shaking. "I mean. Do you like me as a
woman? Are you attracted to me? Because I think you're very attractive and I
thought...I mean, I got the feeling...Well, you were so nice...and you asked me
out...God, I'm not doing this very well. I'm sorry." She stopped and bit
her lip. The look of embarrassment she saw on Marty's face caused her heart to
drop. His next words totally mortified her.
"Oh God, Susan," he began
awkwardly, "you're a great girl. And I really like you...as a friend.
But...I don't think of you that way--"
Susan put up her hand to stop him.
"Please, you don't have to say anymore."
"No Susan," Marty insisted.
"I think we should talk about this."
"Look," Susan said sadly,
"I'm embarrassed enough as it is. I should have known better. I mean, what
was I thinking?"
"Come on Susan, don't talk like
that," he pleaded. "You're a great person--"
"Right. But not great enough to
interest a man like you." Tears welled up in her eyes. "Look, just
forget it okay? It's my fault for being so naive."
"Susan..." Marty looked so despondent.
"No!" she said emphatically.
"I get the picture. Thank you for a lovely evening. Good night." With
that she quickly entered the cottage and closed and locked the door. Her heart
was racing as she leaned against the door listening for the sound of his feet
leaving. It was a few moments before he moved off.
It was a familiar pain she felt now. It
was the same pain that had resided in her soul each time she had opened herself
up to the possibilities of love, only to have the door slammed time and time
again on her heart. Every time she would resolve to remember that men didn't
love fat women. But she would inevitably find herself falling for some guy who
was nice to her and it would happen all over again. How many times had she
embarrassed herself in just this same way? She'd push for some declaration of
feeling from the guy, only to be told she was a good friend, or like a sister.
The guys were always sorry. And Susan would wait for time to heal the wounds.
But quite frankly, she had enough male friends and brothers.
Bitterness welled up inside her. She was
tired of being the only unattached woman among all her friends. She was tired
of being the only woman she knew without children. She was tired of going to
functions as a single in a couples' world. And she was tired of feeling like
she would never find anyone who would love her as she was.
Susan looked at herself in the full-length
mirror in her bedroom as she disrobed for bed. Yes, she was a large woman by
anyone's standards. But she had always made it a point to exercise by walking
or swimming or doing yoga. Her body was well-proportioned, relatively firm
except for her thighs and belly, and reasonably free of blemish and stretch
marks. This is not an ugly body, she thought to herself. She had a classic
hourglass figure. Granted, she had about a month's worth of sand in her
hourglass, but she had long legs with trim calves and ankles, and a lovely
face. So why wouldn't men see how pretty she was? Why did she always feel like
the ugly duckling in a pond full of swans? Why was it that the only man she had
attracted in 32 years turned out to be a demented serial stalker? It wasn't
fair, damn it!
Susan fell on her bed and burst into deep
racking sobs as all the pain and hurt of a lifetime came pouring out in a
flood. Her tears soaked the pillow that muffled her sobs. She felt as if her
heart had truly shattered into pieces this time. An hour later, exhausted, she
fell into a troubled and restless sleep.
She was awakened the next morning by
frantic pounding at her door. She stumbled out of her bed, her head thumping
with pain and a metal taste in her mouth. Grabbing her robe, she shuffled to
the door. Becca stood on the threshold, excitement written on her face.
"Miss Shaw!" she bubbled.
"Daddy's home. He just got in this morning. He wants to meet you. I've
told him how great you are and what a super teacher you are and what fun you
and me and Uncle Marty have been having and how he should give you a big raise
and--"
Susan held up her hand to stop the excited
prattling. "Please, honey, I have an awful headache," she said
gently. "I need some time to wake up and shower and such."
"Oh," Becca said in obvious
disappointment. "Okay. I'll go tell Daddy that you have to get ready. Do
you want to have breakfast with us? We'll wait for you."
Susan smiled sadly. "No honey. I'll
make some coffee and toast here. It will take me quite a while to get it all
together today I'm afraid. I guess I stayed out too late last night."
"Uncle Marty said that you guys had
lots of fun," Becca teased." Do you like Uncle Marty?"
The child's question was like an arrow
piercing her.
"We're just friends, honey,"
Susan said quietly. "Now run along and tell your dad I'll be in as soon as
I can."
Susan had a long spirit-reviving hot
shower. A strong cup of fresh dripped coffee finished the refreshing process
and Susan felt almost human. After a light breakfast of cereal and toast, she
took her time with her makeup and hair, wanting to feel at her best when she
met Mr. Carson and faced Marty again. She chose to wear a soft cotton princess
line dress in a floral pattern of corals and greens. The sweep of the longish
skirt and the flattering scoop neck made her feel feminine and in control of
almost any situation. She finished off her look by pulling her hair back with a
banana clip. It would keep her neck cool and show off her grandmother's tiny
pearl drop earrings. Sandals on her feet, she was ready to face the world once
again. Her spirit was still battered but she felt confident that this wouldn't
show on the outside.
She entered the house to the sounds of
Becca's excited chattering and the deep rumbling of laughter from her father.
Susan smiled in spite of herself at the warm, loving sound of it all.
As she entered the living room, Becca ran and
threw herself into Susan's arms to hug her. She then grabbed Susan's hand and
led her across the room to where Steven was standing.
Steven was a ruggedly handsome six foot
two. Susan could see the resemblance between father and daughter. Once Becca
got through this awkward growing phase, she could look forward to becoming
quite a pretty woman. Steven was broad and muscled, with dark brown wavy hair
that just touched his collar. His grey eyes were rescued from icy coldness by a
smattering of brown flecks in the iris. He watched her approach with an
enigmatic expression on his face but greeted her with a warm smile as he shook
her hand.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Miss
Shaw," he said in a rumbling baritone. "You've already made quite an
impression on my daughter. She speaks very highly of you."
"Well, I think very highly of her
too," Susan looked with affection at the happy girl. And please, call me
Susan, Mr. Carson."
"Then I must insist on Steve."
He indicated that they sit down and it was then that Susan realized that the
three of them were alone.
"Has Marty left?" she asked
holding her breath.
"I sent him on an errand," Steve
said. "He should be back in time for dinner this evening. I hope he was
able to keep you entertained while I was away."
Susan felt her face flush but was saved
from answering by Becca's enthusiastic interruption.
"We did all sorts of stuff. We went
shopping and drove around the island and went swimming and played Scrabble and
last night Uncle Marty and Miss Shaw went out together." Becca's voice
took on a teasing tone. "They had a date."
Steve's eyebrows raised in question. Susan
suddenly felt put under a microscope.
"It was hardly a date, Becca."
Turning to Steve, she elected to make light of everything. "Such an
imagination! Marty just felt that I should meet some of the other adults on the
island. We went over to the Four Winds and met some of his friends. It was
rather nice to go dancing and try gambling I've never been to a place like that
before."
"Well, we'll have to make sure you
get another chance soon," Steve responded. Susan was puzzled by the way he
kept looking at her so intently. She felt a little uncomfortable, yet strangely
excited. But she was a smart girl. She wasn't about to make the same mistake
twice in a row and think that this great-looking man could be attracted to her.
He was probably just intent on making sure his daughter was in good hands.
Well, she was an excellent teacher. She was determined to redouble her efforts
at teaching Becca. She'd start slipping in late afternoon lessons before dinner
and perhaps some creative pursuits in the evenings like crafts, or drawing or
music appreciation. After all, she hadn't come all the way down here to
socialize with the jet setters and fall in love. She was here to work.
Susan would have been astounded had she
been able to read her new employer's mind, for he was in a state of
exhilaration he'd rarely felt before. When Susan entered the room, it was as if
something had sucked all the air out of his lungs at once. His heart jumped and
he felt flushed all over. It was an intense, physical, and yes, sexual reaction
to this woman. And he was astounded by it. He'd managed to sound normal, he
hoped, and to have a normal conversation, but he couldn't help but look at her
and marvel in her effect on him.
She was stunning! That glorious copper
hair, rich and lustrous. Her wide, expressive green eyes. Her dazzling smile
and that tall, graceful, incredibly female body. She made Dierdre and Justine
seem like boys in comparison. He had an overwhelming urge to run his hands over
her lush, soft curves. It almost made him feel light-headed.
Never in his life had a woman had this
effect on him. And he liked the feeling.
The next hour or so passed in idle
chatter. Becca filled in her father on her lessons, showing him her remarkable
progress in reading and writing. He was impressed and told Susan so. Susan then
asked some polite questions about his business and he asked about her job back
home and her relationship with Justine. It was here that the conversation got a
bit strange.
"Twins!" Steve exclaimed.
"Really?"
"Yes," Susan said uncomfortably.
She was used to this reaction. After all, she and Justine looked so different.
"We're fraternal, not identical twins. Justine got the beauty genes in the
family."
"I wouldn't say that," Steve
said appraising her closely, causing Susan to become flustered. "Which of
you is the elder."
"I am, by three minutes," Susan
replied, trying to absorb his previous comment. Did he think she was pretty? Careful
Susan, she admonished herself. Don't fall into that trap again.
"How did you and my sister meet?"
"I met her at a dinner party I
attended with Marty about six months ago," Steve answered. "Actually,
she asked me out. I thought it kind of odd. I was under the impression that she
and Marty were seeing each other. She's pretty aggressive, isn't she?"
"She is that," Susan said,
smiling and shaking her head. "She's always known just how to get what she
wants. So, you've been dating for about six months then."
Steven looked confused. "Dating? I'm
not dating Justine."
Now Susan looked confused, " I'm
sorry. I was led to believe..." Justine! Damn her! She had definitely
called Steve her boyfriend. That was why Susan had felt comfortable enough to
come to the home of a stranger. Now to find out it wasn't true. Typical!
"I'm sorry, Steve," Susan said
honestly, "Justine made it seem that you two were an item. And Becca made
it seem as if Justine spent time with you. I guess I jumped to conclusions."
"No problem," Steve said. A
frown crossed his face briefly and then he continued in a lighter vein.
"It seems we were both operating under false information, you about
Justine and me about Marty. It's lucky we had this chat. Actually, Justine is a
friend of my ex-wife's. They both modeled together before my ex began her round
of marrying and divorcing for money. I took Justine out to dinner once, but I
found her too self-centered for my taste. Sorry, I don't mean to insult your
sister or anything."
Susan laughed, "Not to worry! I know
better than anyone how self-serving Justine can be. I love her anyway. She's my
only family."
Susan found herself very comfortably
telling Steve about the childhood she and Justine had shared. And she had
revised her preconceived notion of him as a distant father when she saw how
adoringly he looked at his young daughter and how free and affectionate she was
with him. Watching them talk earnestly with each other, she felt wistful. How
nice it would be to have a husband and child; to see them engaged in deep
conversation, giggling and whispering to each other. For a second she allowed
herself to fantasize that this was her family, her husband and child and he had
just come home from a day at the office. But then she shook her head, berating
herself for letting her mind go in that direction. This was her boss and this
was her student and that was that!
At that moment, Ruth entered the room to
call them to lunch. The cozy feeling passed as they went to the dining room and
Susan was able to clear her head.
Marty showed up that evening for dinner,
bringing with him a group of Steven's business associates who would be spending
a working weekend at the house. Steve was interested in developing some hotel
properties on the big island and wanted to show the gentlemen around the sites
and get their feedback and hopefully their commitment to join in his venture.
Susan and Marty were somewhat awkward with
each other at first, but soon their natural good humor overcame their
discomfort and they fell into their easy banter and teasing relationship. If
all they could be were friends, then Susan would feel lucky to have such a good
friend in Marty. She could have been mistaken, but she thought that she caught
a disapproving look or two from Steve's direction when she and Marty traded
quips through dinner providing amusement for the gathered party. He probably
didn't like his employees fraternizing with the family. She would have to make
sure she kept her place.
Over the weekend, the businessmen were
gone during the days, leaving Susan and Becca free to swim and sunbathe. The
two of them had also embarked on a project to plant a small vegetable garden
beside Susan's little cottage. Steve had whole-heartedly given his approval,
plus some money and the use of his launch so they could go to Dunlee to get
supplies for their garden project. Susan wanted something to fill the weekends
and she felt Becca would benefit from the responsibility and gain satisfaction
from the job.
It was during one of these shopping trips
that Becca and Susan happened on the subject of Dierdre, Becca's mother. The
conversation began as they strolled past the chic little shops in town. Becca
stopped in front of a jewelry store and gazed at the display.
"This is Mommy's favorite
store," she nearly whispered. Susan was alert to the pain in the little
girl's voice.
"Is it?" she responded
carefully.
"Yes. Whenever she comes to visit, we
come here to shop and then we have lunch down the street."
"That's nice," Susan said for
lack of anything better.
"I don't like it much." Becca
was still gazing at the splendor in the window. "She really doesn't care
if I'm around. I get bored while she argues with the manager. I don't like
jewelry much. But she loves it."
"Does your mother visit very
often?" Susan asked, her heart going out to the lonely child.
Becca shook her head. "Not really. I
don't mind. She really doesn't like me much anyway. She only comes because
Daddy makes her."
Susan was appalled. "I'm sure you're
wrong about that. She's your mother. I'm sure she loves you."
Becca looked up at her with big, soulful
eyes. Her expression was quite adult in the resignation.
"She left me," Becca said
bluntly. "Me and Daddy. She didn't want us anymore. I wish she'd just stay
away for good!" Tears welled up in Becca's eyes.
"Oh honey," Susan said softly,
pulling the little girl into the protective circle of her arms. She vowed to
talk to Becca's father at the earliest opportunity.
"I wish you were my mom," Becca
said, her voice muffled against Susan's side. Susan's heart lurched …
because she wished that too.
"That's very sweet of you,
honey," she said. Then clearing her throat she spoke in a cheerier tone.
"Let's get some ice cream. What do you say?"
Becca sniffed and smiled as she nodded her
agreement.
"All right then, let's go!" The
two walked hand in hand toward the ice cream parlor. Susan vowed silently to do
everything in her power to make this little girl happy and confident. She
gained strength from her new resolve.
Steve was exultant upon gaining the
support of his fellow businessmen and the next few days, Susan and Becca saw
little of him as the deal was signed and sealed. Once everything was complete,
Steve had Marty escort the businessmen to the airfield to see them off. With
the project secure, he turned his attention back to his household, aware that
he'd been neglectful recently. He decided to take Susan, Becca and Ruth out to
a four-star restaurant as a celebration and a thank you.
The dinner was phenomenal. Ruth admitted
that it surpassed even her substantial cooking talents. They began with
cocktails of the famous island rum punch, Becca's minus the rum. It was a
potent brew and Susan could feel an immediate effect. If one cocktail could
make her light-headed, she'd better steer clear of this delicious drink!
Accompanying the cocktails were canapés of spiced ham, shrimp, caviar
and crab. Susan had never had such variety in the restaurants at home and was
enthralled with the new taste experiences. She reveled in the opportunity to
try new things. Next came the soup course of Consommé gros Michel. Steve
chose a dry Madeira to complement the soup. Had the dinner ended here, it would
have been sufficient. It seemed to Susan that the taste sensations could not
possibly get better, and yet they did. The main course was an absolute culinary
delight. Red snapper en papillot, rice and peas, corn and peppers with spiced
butter, all washed down with a superb Balthasar Ress Riesling. Just when they
all felt they couldn't hold anymore, their waiter presented a wonderful crisp
tossed salad with escoveitch dressing. At this point, they groaned, certain
they couldn't hold another bite. But dessert was yet to come. Steve chose his
favorite for everyone, a yam fruitcake with banana-rum ice cream and a lively
Asti Spumante to complete the meal. Susan thought her taste buds had died and
gone to heaven. They were all pleasantly stuffed by the end of the meal and all
were in a light festive mood.
"That was fantastic, Steve,"
Susan said with feeling. "I don't think I've ever had such a gourmet feast
before. Thanks so much."
"Don't mention it," he responded
patting his stomach. "I enjoyed myself too. And this was a thank you for
three ladies who showed such patience and support." The three demurred but
were pleased just the same.
"Look," he said suddenly sitting
forward, "the evening's still young. What say we go over to the Four Winds
and take in the show or some dancing?"
"Mister Steve," piped in Ruth,
her face wreathed in a smile, "this old woman needs her beauty sleep. And
I think this young one..." she indicated a heavy-eyed Becca, "...is
about to go to dreamland."
Steve looked lovingly at his daughter.
"Yes, you're right. Oh well, another time perhaps."
"Nonsense," Ruth said, looking
thoughtfully from Steve to Susan, "I can take our girl back home. Why
don't you and Miss Susan go out yourselves? You don't have to spoil your fun over
two sleepy heads."
Steve looked inquiringly at Susan who was
slightly panicked at the thought of being alone with her handsome boss.
"Susan?"
She looked at him and thought, what the
hell! "Sure, that would be nice," she said, her heart thumping in
her chest. A huge smile broke over Steve's face.
"That's settled then!" Turning
back to Ruth he said, "The launch can take you home and you can instruct
the driver to come to the resort to get us later. We can cab over to the resort
from here."
Steve and Susan arrived at the Four Winds
to find it just beginning to fill with the evening party crowd. After
considering the possibilities offered at the resort, they opted for the early
after-dinner show in the theatre followed by dancing in the piano bar. Susan thoroughly
enjoyed the sophisticated magic show reminiscent of the theatrical David
Copperfield. Like a child, her eyes were wide in wonder and awe with each
illusion. She caught Steve watching her a number of times, an unreadable
expression on his face. He would smile warmly at her and return his attention
to the stage. Susan would feel an odd skip in her heartbeat and then she too
would focus on the show.
They found a private table for two in the
piano lounge and sat enjoying an Irish coffee and discussing the skill of the
magician they had just seen. Susan felt the time was right to broach the
subject of Becca's mother.
"Steve," she began, "I had
a rather disturbing conversation with Becca today."
"Oh?" he said, his face a study
of concern.
"She talked about her mother,"
Susan continued carefully. She saw Steven stiffen. "She believes her
mother doesn't like her."
"She's a very astute child,"
Steve said coolly.
Susan's eyes opened wide. "You
believe that?"
"Dierdre made her choice a long time
ago," Steve said. "She left us and didn't look back."
"I'm sorry," Susan demurred.
"Becca's under the impression that her mother only visits because you make
her."
Steve looked surprised. "That's not
entirely correct. I've insisted that Dierdre keep some sort of contact with her
daughter, if just for Becca's sake. But Dierdre does what she chooses. It's not
unusual for her to just appear for a day just long enough to disrupt everyone
and everything and then disappear for another year or so."
"It must be very hard for you,"
Susan responded softly.
"I'm more concerned about
Becca," Steve said. "It's mainly why I hired you this summer. She's
getting older and needs a steady woman's presence. You've worked wonders with
her already. She thinks very highly of you."
Susan beamed at this praise.
"She's a special little girl,"
she said. "I think a great deal of her."
For a moment they just looked at each
other, unspoken messages being communicated. Couples began to fill the dance
floor and Steve asked Susan to dance.
Susan was not an experienced dancer, but
held in Steve's strong arms, she found it easy to glide gracefully on the
floor. At first they stood slightly apart, engaging in light patter as they
swayed to the soft music. Then they found themselves just looking deeply into
each other's eyes as the music reached into their souls and awakened emotions.
Like magic, Susan felt herself drawn tighter into Steve's embrace. One arm
gently caressed the middle of her back. His other hand captured hers and held
it against his heart. Susan's forehead touched his strong jaw and she could
feel his soft breath against her temple. It felt so right rocking in Steve's
arms.
The music seemed to fade into the distance
as she became aware of his heartbeat. Could she be mistaken or had his lips
just brushed the skin at her hairline? She sighed deeply, feeling utter
contentment. She prayed for the moment to remain frozen and never end. She felt
Steve move gently and found herself looking deeply once again into his smoky
warm eyes. And then he bent his head and his lips met hers. The kiss was brief,
tender and completely innocent, yet Susan's lips burned as if touched by fire.
Her green eyes smoldered as she looked at his precious face smiling sensuously
at her. He pulled her close once again and they became lost in the music.
Susan hated for the night to end, but it
was inevitable. They walked arm and arm to the launch talking idly about
everything and nothing, laughing softly, a picture of romantic intimacy.
Tenderly, Steve assisted her into the launch. Then, much to her delight, he
placed himself as close to her as he comfortably could. Steve kept an arm
around her as they enjoyed the night ride home over the still water.
The water was a sheet of glass reflecting
the millions of stars like so many diamonds on a blanket of satin. The air was
balmy and warm, caressing Susan's flushed skin as the launch picked up speed.
She felt Steve pull her closer to him, their bodies touching from head to toe.
Susan tingled with the thrill of his nearness. She tipped her head and rested
it on his broad shoulder. She felt the soft pressure of his warm lips against
her brow. Utter contentment and joy filled her. This was completely different
from being with Marty. This felt so right.
Just as tenderly, Steven helped her from
the launch and paid the driver. Once again, Susan was struck by the vivid
beauty of the Caribbean night. The fragrant air had a dizzying effect, or was
that Steve's proximity causing the euphoric feeling? The moon's diamond glitter
on the water could be seen reflected in his eyes, made dark and mysterious by
the night shadows. She felt drawn into his gaze. Neither spoke a word, yet
volumes were said. They were oblivious as the launch gently pulled away from
the dock, and only the sudden silence as the engine gained distance broke
through the intensity to capture their attention.
Steve held her hand as they walked up from
the dock and through the house out to her cottage. The house was dark and
still. The full moon illuminated the pool and patio. At Susan's door, the two
stopped and looked briefly at the stars. Then Steve turned to Susan.
"I've had a wonderful time," he
said, his voice husky and intimate.
"I have too," Susan replied, her
voice breathy with emotion.
"You're a remarkable woman," he
continued, one hand smoothing a strand of hair from her cheek. His touch was
electric. "So beautiful, inside and out."
Susan thrilled at his words. "You're
too kind."
"You're too modest," he said
smiling. "But I like that about you too. Will you go out with me again
soon?"
Oh yes!" she breathed. Then he kissed
her.
This kiss was vastly different from the
one on the dance floor. This kiss was hungry, devouring her mouth. Steve's arms
wrapped tightly around Susan, pulling her soft plush body against his hard,
masculine form. She felt the effect the kiss was having on him and nearly
swooned with desire. His tongue aggressively thrust its way into her mouth,
engaging in a sensual battle with her tongue. Emboldened, she forced his tongue
back as hers became the aggressor. Steve growled deep in his throat, pulling
Susan into an even fiercer embrace. Time stood still. The blood pounded in
Susan's ears. Much too soon, the entwined couple surfaced for air, both of them
reeling at the powerful reaction they had experienced with the kiss.
"I don't want to let you go,"
Steve murmured against Susan's silky hair.
"I don't want to go," Susan
responded huskily into his ear, "but I should."
"Why?" he asked, still not
releasing his hold on her.
"This is so..." Susan grappled
to find the right words, not wanting to spoil the magic of the moment but
knowing she was spinning along too fast for her limited experience.
"...so...unexpected."
At this, Steve pulled back to look in her
eyes, but he still didn't relinquish his hold on her. "Unexpected?
Why?"
How could she tell him that fat girls like
her didn't attract men like him? How could she make him understand that she
didn't find herself standing under a moon necking with a gorgeous hunk every
day of the week? How could she explain her lack of experience or her many-times
broken and disappointed heart?
"It just is," she replied
lamely.
"I sense there's more to this but I'm
willing to let it go," he said, "for now!" He bent and kissed
her gently once more. "Good night, beautiful lady. Thank you for a
memorable evening. And I look forward to many more."
With that he reluctantly stepped away and
walked back to the house, turning briefly to blow her a kiss before
disappearing from sight. Susan stood glued, reliving the past twenty minutes in
her mind. A grin appeared on her face and tears of joy filled her eyes. Hardly
daring to think, she let herself into the cottage and eventually was able to
fall into a satisfying, dream-filled sleep.
The next morning, Susan woke feeling
light-hearted and more alive than she could ever remember. She sprang from her
bed and padded into the kitchen. There on her little cafe table stood a
beautiful bouquet of tropical blooms in an exquisite crystal vase. A note was
propped against it. Ruth must have brought them in, she thought. Susan forced
herself to make a cup of coffee before sitting to open the note with shaking
hands.
Susan. These beautiful blooms are for a
beautiful lady. Once again, thank you for a magical evening. Steve.
Susan smiled dreamily as she sipped her
coffee. He called her a beautiful lady. Was it possible that he really did see
her that way? After her shower, she appraised herself in the mirror. Did he see
beauty in this large soft body? She noted the new sparkle in her green eyes,
and the light flush in her cheeks. She looked happy. And she was. An attractive
man had called her beautiful.
She dressed and readied herself with care.
Leaving her hair long and soft and keeping her makeup light and natural, she
donned a pretty multi-tiered peasant skirt in shades of green and coral, topped
by a coral t-shirt. Slipping her feet into her leather sandals, she took one
last look at herself and smiled at the pretty woman looking back from the
mirror. Hopefully, Steve would think so too.
When she entered the house she was
surprised to hear the sound of woman's laughter. Not only that, but it was a
very familiar voice. Justine! She quickened her pace and entered the living
room.
"Sis!" Susan enveloped Justine
in a bear hug. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in Italy on a
shoot!"
"I was, darling," Justine said,
gently extracting herself from her sister's embrace. "We finished in
record time and I decided to hop on over and see how you were settling
in."
"It's wonderful!" Susan bubbled.
She then glanced over Justine's shoulder at Steve and blushed as he winked at
her.
"Good morning, Steve," she said
demurely, holding his gaze with her own. Time held for a beat before another
voice intruded.
"Hey, teach! How about a hug for
me?"
"Marty!" Susan turned to find
herself pulled into a bear hug. She was rather surprised but rather touched
too.
"My, but haven't you all become
cozy!" Justine's voice held a tinge of pique as attention veered away from
her. "What's your secret, Suze? New perfume?"
Susan recognized the tone in her sister's
voice. It always happened when Justine wasn't the center of attention and it
was very tiresome.
Choosing to ignore the petulance, Susan
guided the conversation back to Justine.
"So tell me about Italy. Was it
wonderful? Did you get to sightsee or shop? What covers will you get from
this?" She dragged her sister to the sofa and the next hour's conversation
revolved around Justine's modeling career. Marty then filled Steve and Susan in
on his escapades of the past 48 hours including a rather drunken phone
conversation with Justine. It seemed she had called him after being unable to
raise anyone at Steve's the night before. She raised her eyebrows when Steve mentioned
that he and Susan had gone to a show and dancing together, but said nothing.
Lunch was a festive affair, even if Becca
was a little sullen at finding Justine in her home. She chose to demonstrate
her dislike of Justine by fawning extravagantly over Susan and in pointedly
drawing Susan and Steve into conversation together. Susan could see Justine
bristling as, time and again, she was out-trumped by the nine-year-old. It was
apparent that Steve noticed it too, if the amused smile on his face was any indication.
Everyone voted for an afternoon of
swimming and lounging by the pool. Susan cringed as she changed into her green
one-piece suit. True to form, Justine appeared at poolside in a scanty bikini,
totally unsuited for water sports. Susan kept expecting Justine to remark on
Susan's figure. She was always trying to get Susan to diet. But for once, she
held her council and merely took up residence on one of the loungers, a pair of
oversize designer sunglasses hiding her observant eyes.
Marty, Steve, Susan and Becca all jumped
into the pool with reckless abandon. Fun was the agenda and fun they had,
splashing and cavorting in the pool. Steve went out of his way to get
physically close to Susan in the water but making it appear accidental. He
would playfully grab her to keep her from getting the beach ball. Or he would
brush by her as they played water tag. The sexual tension between them was
palpable.
So later when she and Justine were getting
changed in the cottage, Susan wasn't surprised that the subject was broached.
"What's going on between you and
Steven?" Justine asked, trying to sound merely interested.
"What do you mean?" Susan
decided to hedge.
"Oh, come now. It doesn't take a
genius to see the sparks between you two," Justine teased, a dangerous
glitter in her dark eyes. "Have you been throwing yourself at
Steven?"
"What?" Susan was appalled at
the implication.
"Well, he is attractive,"
Justine purred, "and very wealthy and available. I don't blame you for
making a play for him. I must admit that I have been trying to catch his eye
myself. But I'm surprised. Cece Perkins called me to tell me you were out with
Marty, but I agree that Steven is the better catch."
"Someone told you?" It was all
too much for Susan.
"Oh, the gang is pretty close
knit," Justine continued. "Cece knew I'd had a fling with Marty
myself."
"You and Marty? "Susan felt
dizzy and confused.
"But like you," Justine
continued ruthlessly, "I realized I'd be further ahead to make a play for
Steven."
"I didn't--" Susan sputtered.
"And of course, he's a man,"
Justine continued maliciously. "If some woman throws herself at him, he's
going to take what's freely offered. Don't be embarrassed. It could happen to
anyone. But face it Suze, Steven is a sophisticated businessman. He travels in
very high circles. He needs a woman in his life who can travel in those circles
as well. His ex-wife is that kind of woman. Did I mention that I know Dierdre? She
was a model and we worked a couple of shows together when I was starting out.
She's gorgeous! She just married her third husband, Raoul something-or-other.
Wealthy, of course. A Count, I think. She never has to work again. Steve was
mad about her. Still is, I understand. But she was unhappy with him. He was so
wrapped up in his business. I've been playing it cool with him, because I know
he needs careful handling." Justine finished patting her hair and putting
the last touches to her lipstick. Satisfied with her appearance in the silk
lounging pajamas, she whisked to the door. Susan sat slumped in agony.
"Oh Suzy!" Justine said,
clicking her tongue. "Don't feel so bad. You're not the first woman to
fall for the wrong man. I'm sure once you think about it, you'll realize that
Steve was never the man for you. He needs...well...someone like me to create
the proper image. You'll find someone suitable in time. See you in the
house." With those parting words, she was gone.
The impact of her sister's cruel words hit
Susan with the force of a Mack truck. All the happiness and joy she'd been
feeling since the night before were gone in that instant to be replaced with
the familiar feeling of self-loathing. What a fool she had been once again. Of
course, a man like Steven was accustomed to a certain type of woman in his
life; a woman who was sophisticated, beautiful and, of course, thin. She was an
idiot to think he could ever be truly attracted to her. He was just amusing
himself or passing time with her. Maybe he knew Justine was coming to the
island and wanted to make her jealous. The more Susan thought about it, the
more certain she was that she had mistaken Steven's attentions. After all, her
track record with men wasn't great.
She chose to absent herself from dinner
that night. No one came looking for her and she could only assume that Justine
had supplied a suitable excuse. Justine could be mean-spirited but Susan was
now convinced that her sister had saved her from a huge mistake. All Susan
could think of was that she had to get away. She had to put some distance
between her and Steven and get her head straightened out. Only one person could
bring some sense to this, and that was Gwen. Sensible Gwen would be the one to
help her sort out her feelings.
But she didn't want to get into long,
painful explanations with Steven, Becca or anyone. She decided that she would
enlist Ruth's help to get her off the island and on her way home. Susan set
about putting plans into motion and felt better as she dialed Gwen's number.
"Honey, I'm surprised to hear from
you. Delighted but surprised," Gwen said warmly.
"Oh Gwen," Susan was upset to
hear the quaver in her own voice and to feel hot tears splashing on her cheeks.
In her heightened emotional state she didn't hear the strange click on the
line. "It's such a mess."
"Susan?" Gwen was genuinely
concerned. "Tell me about it."
Over the next half hour, Susan poured her
heart out to her best friend. She told her about Becca and the wonderful
success with her new student. She told her about Marty and the disaster of her
infatuation with the charming rogue. She was very emotional as she described
Steven and her dream date with him. And she even related Justine's heartless
words. Gwen was emphatic in her response.
"Susan, Justine is a bitch!"
Gwen was furious to hear the hurt in her friend's voice. "Haven't you
learned by now that that miserable woman has only one agenda, and that is to
make sure that she gets her own way all the time. She doesn't care about
anyone's feelings, even her own twin's. How could you even credit anything she
has to say?"
"No Gwen, you're wrong," Susan
protested. "Justine loves me. She's only trying to keep me from making a
further fool of myself."
"Bull!" Gwen said with derision.
"She knows what a wonderful, sweet, gentle soul you are and how very
attractive you would be to a man like Steve."
"What could Steve possibly see in
me?"
"Susan, don't you know how special
you are?" Gwen said almost angrily.
"That's very sweet of you Gwen."
"Oh baloney!" Gwen blurted.
"I'm only speaking the truth that everyone but you seems to see. You are a
wonderful person. You're kind to everyone. You see good in the world. You're
fun to be with. And you are very attractive. And don't give me any of that
garbage about your weight or your height. It's meaningless. You are an
attractive woman and the sooner you get that through your head, the better
you'll be!"
"But Justine said--"
"Forget what that spoiled brat
said," Gwen said vehemently. "Listen to this old gal. I've met a lot
of people in my forty years of living. You and my dear husband are the two
sweetest people I've ever known. Your sister on the other hand is one of the
most selfish and nasty. I wouldn't trust her as far as I could throw her. Don't
let her win this time. Don't forfeit your happiness in favor of hers. She
doesn't deserve it."
"You think so?" Doubt could
still be heard in Susan's voice.
"I know so!"
"What should I do?" Susan was
confused and uncertain. If she was going up against her sister, she wasn't sure
she could come out a winner. Her sister had so much more experience at winning.
"Just continue being who you
are," Gwen counseled, "and Steve can't help but be smitten."
"You're so good for my ego,"
Susan said.
"What are best friends for? Suzy? I
want to run something by you. It just kind of occurred to me."
Susan was puzzled. "Okay.
Shoot."
"Why don't Barry and I come down
there?" Gwen grinned into the phone.
"You? Here?" Susan was stunned.
"Yeah," Gwen said excitedly.
"We've been tossing around some holiday ideas for a few weeks and could
never agree on anything. But this would be perfect. We could get away and see
you at the same time. We both miss you like crazy."
"Can you afford it?" Susan
asked. "I mean, it's an expensive holiday. I don't want you to do this
just because of me."
"What better reason?" Gwen said.
"Look, Barry and I have more than enough money for this trip, so don't
worry. And think about how much fun we'd all have together."
"Oh, Gwen." Susan sighed.
"I can't tell you how good this makes me feel. I'm thrilled. I miss you
too. It will be wonderful to have you here to hold my hand and keep me from
making too big a fool of myself."
"It's those men that are fools,"
Gwen barked adamantly, "but never mind that. We have to make some
plans!"
The rest of the conversation was filled
with giggling and plotting as Gwen and Susan laid out the plans for their
reunion. Susan recommended the Four Winds Resort, hoping that there were some
economical accommodations to be had. Gwen ended the conversation with a promise
to be in touch before the week was out with the final arrangements. Susan could
hardly wait. By the end of their conversation, Susan felt much better.
As the two women hung up, they were
unaware of the eavesdropper who had listened in on their conversation. As he
put down the extension, a slow, cruel smile formed on his hard face.
Susan decided to face her sister head on.
She washed her tear blotched face and fixed the damage as best she could with
makeup. Taking a deep breath, she let herself out of the cottage and strode to
the main house.
Steven's and Becca's faces lit up when
Susan entered the family room. It looked as if everyone had been watching a
movie. Justine scowled at her sister's appearance but quickly covered it up
with a phony, "Look who's here. Feeling better?"
Susan smiled brightly. "Yes, I feel
much better, thank you. What's everyone watching?"
"Who knows," Marty said dryly.
"It's dismally bad. You're saving us all. Justine said you had a
headache."
"I did," Susan lied. "I
took a couple of aspirin and laid down for a while. Too much sun I guess."
Steven came up to her, standing close
enough that she had to tilt her head back to look into his eyes. He was trying
to convey a thousand messages in that look. All of them making Susan feel warm
and tingly all over. Taking her hand he led her over to the sofa where he sat
down beside her. Becca very quickly bounced over to sit on Susan's other side.
Susan wrapped her arms around the little girl and hugged her, her eyes meeting
Steve's to convey her own silent message. It was a telling moment.
It was apparent by the look on Marty's
face that he was totally bewildered by the last few moments. He studied the
little group sitting on the sofa and the light of understanding dawned at last.
A grin broke over his face and he started to chuckle quietly.
"What's so funny?" Justine
demanded, fuming to one side.
"You wouldn't understand, my
pet," Marty said, amusement evident in his voice, "but how about you and
I zip on over to the Four Winds and catch up with the old crowd. You do
remember the old crowd, don't you?"
"Yes, of course I do," Justine
said, never once taking her eyes off Susan and Steve and their silent
communion. "But I came here to see Susan. It would be rude to just
leave."
"Sure you did," Marty said
ruefully. "But somehow I don't think she'll mind." Justine didn't
need much more persuasion. She knew it was a losing proposition at the moment.
She didn't like it, but at least she knew in Marty's company she could be the
center of attention. The two left and other than Becca, no one roused to say
good-bye.
Ruth, wise and wonderful, came to take
Becca upstairs to bed. One look at Steve and Susan and she knew something
beautiful was taking place. Her heart swelled at the prospect of love
blossoming between these two special people.
At last, they were alone. Although even in
a room with hundreds of people, it would have seemed as if they were on an
island of their own.
"When you didn't come in to dinner, I
was afraid that maybe you were having second thoughts about me," Steve
said, his eyes devouring her face, his fingers caressing her arm.
"I guess I did, for a crazy moment or
two," confessed Susan. "Justine said some things..."
"What did she say that made you doubt
me?"
Susan looked down at his hands touching
her skin so gently.
"She talked about what a
sophisticated man you were and how your ex-wife fit so well into your world.
She talked about the image you needed. And I guess she made it clear that I
didn't fit that image and she did." Susan was embarrassed by these
revelations. She felt Steve's fingertips gently tip her chin up so she was
looking into the intensity of his gaze.
"Don't believe any of that crap that
Justine handed you, he said vehemently. "She has no idea what I look for
in a woman. And if she is looking to Dierdre as an example of my type of
woman, she is sadly misled. Listen to me. When I met Dierdre, I was 26, inexperienced
and ripe for the picking. Dierdre was a model, beautiful and bored. I was a
challenge for her. She presented a picture of outdoorsy, down-to-earth, girl
next door purity and I bought it. We were married and Becca was on the way
before I realized how badly duped I had been. Dierdre was bored with me almost
before the ink was dry on the marriage certificate. And she certainly had no
interest in being a mother. She lasted until Becca was three before she finally
ran off with the latest of her extra-curricular affairs."
"Oh, Steven, how awful for you and
Becca."
Steven smiled and shook his head. "To
tell you the truth, Susan, by then, I was relieved. Quite honestly, the
physical part of our relationship had never been particularly satisfying. I
just wasn't attracted to Dierdre. I made sure she couldn't get to Becca. It
didn't take much more than an obscene financial settlement. I went a long time
feeling pretty bitter but eventually I put it behind me and got on with life.
I've worked hard building my businesses and yes, I've dated a few women,
including your sister that one time. But for that I'm glad because it meant you
were brought to me. Remind me to thank Justine, will you?"
Susan chuckled and impulsively kissed him
on the chin. Steve cupped her face in his hands and lovingly and tenderly
pressed his lips to hers. She felt the kiss in every part of her body. It was
as if she had been asleep all her life and was now awake. She returned his kiss
with equal tenderness. Too soon it was over.
"I can't believe this is
happening." She sighed.
"Why?" He lifted her hair off
her neck and nibbled gently on her earlobe.
"Oh." Susan gasped at the
sensations this created. "I can't believe you're attracted to me, I guess.
I mean, you're gorgeous. You could have anyone."
"But I want you," he said,
emphasizing his words by pulling her close and caressing her back and hip.
"Is that so hard to believe?"
Susan pulled back, more to keep her head
clear than anything. This was an important moment and she needed to see his
honest reaction.
"For a fat girl, yes," she said
bluntly. "I've never in my life had a real boyfriend or really even dated
much. I grew up believing it was because men weren't attracted to big women.
Now, rationally, I know that's not the case. I know lots of men like a full
figure, but a lifetime of insecurity doesn't go away overnight. Can you see why
it might be hard for me to trust what's happening here?"
"I guess I never thought of it,"
Steven said. "When I look at you, I don't see a big woman. I see Susan.
You're tall, with an hour glass figure with, may I say, the sand in all the
right places." Jiggling his eyebrows, Steven traced the lines of an
hourglass in the air as Susan blushed becomingly at his playful remark.
"Your legs are long and gorgeous. You
carry yourself with grace and dignity. Your hair is breathtaking. Your eyes are
emerald pools I would gladly fall into. When you smile, my heart skips a beat.
You're sweet and kind and generous and loving. The room lights up when you
enter. And given half a chance I want to spend a lifetime making sweet love to
you."
Susan's breath stopped at these last
words. Her eyes widened and she felt the electric current leap between them.
She caressed his face marveling at the twist in fate that had brought them
together.
"Steve," she whispered his name
like a prayer. With a groan, he pulled her onto his lap and pressed his body
against her, devouring her mouth hungrily. They were two people possessed.
Susan didn't know how or when they got to
her cottage. She was swept away on a tidal wave of passion and there was no
stopping.
With utter gentleness and tender regard
for her obvious shyness and inexperience, Steve slowed the pace of his
lovemaking to ensure that Susan was ready at every juncture. They stood inside
the door of her cottage for an endless amount of time just kissing and softly
caressing each other letting their lips get acquainted. It was Susan who shyly
suggested moving into the bedroom but it was Steve who suggested they just lie
together, clothed, holding one another. Susan was grateful for the time to
catch her breath and gain a sense of control. Steve's kisses continued to
inflame her sensibilities however, and soon she found herself initiating
further moves. It was her fingers that unbuttoned his shirt and her hand that
led his to her breast inviting his bolder caresses. With wonder and amazement,
they disrobed each other, touching and kissing the flesh they exposed.
Suddenly Susan panicked. What if he got a
good look at her naked body and was repulsed? What if her soft belly and heavy
pendulous breasts turned him off? She tried to move away from his embrace.
"Susan? What's wrong?" he
murmured, trying to pull her close again.
"Wait, Steve...I..." She didn't
know how to express her fear. Suddenly she was terrified it would all end.
Steven sensed the fear and gently turned her face to him.
"Tell me," he said tenderly.
"What is it?"
Looking into his understanding eyes, she
gained courage.
"I'm scared Steve," she said.
"About what?" he asked, although
he was sure he knew the answer.
"I'm scared you'll find
me...unappealing. Please. I...I...don't have much experience."
"Oh Susan. Don't you know?" he
said, smiling at her. "Come here." Before she could object, he took
her hand and led her to the full-length mirror attached to the closet door. His
hands on her shoulders, he positioned her in front of him.
"Look at that lovely woman,
Susan," he said sincerely. "She is a painting by a great master. She
is Venus or Juno. Round, soft, entirely feminine." Then he stepped out
from behind her. "Look how well we complement each other."
"You really think so?" she
whispered, her vulnerability still present but hope dawning.
He answered by running his hand down her
naked body. Steve whispered, "You are so utterly beautiful." Susan
melted into his arms, ready to give herself to him completely. He led her back
to the bed. They exchanged caresses with abandon fuelling each other's rising
passions.
Their bodies came together at last,
joyously, their rhythmic give and take propelling them both higher and higher
until they reached the explosive summit of their union. Susan felt that
paradise could not be as glorious as those few moments of utter bliss.
As they lay sated, their bodies spooned
together, Steve held Susan tightly and whispered in her ear.
"It's a miracle." He sighed.
"A miracle?" Susan asked.
"Yes. You're a miracle. I never
thought I'd ever find someone to love again and now, here you are."
Susan's breath caught. "Love?"
"Yes," Steve said, nibbling her
neck. "Love. Susan, I love you. I know it seems impossible to fall
in love with someone so quickly. But that's the miracle of it."
Susan could hardly believe her ears. She
had waited her entire life to hear these three words from a man. It was hard to
fathom that at last her dreams were coming true.
"Susan?"
She shook her head and came back to earth.
"Oh Steve," she said with a sigh, "I love you too."
"Whew. You had me worried there for a
moment," he said playfully.
"Steve, is it real? I mean, I've been
wrong before. Is this real?"
He pulled her closer and said adamantly,
"This is absolutely real, my lovely Susan. I love you. Believe it!"
She turned and looked deeply into his
eyes. He read the message of love and gratitude and smoldering desire
registered there. She read promise, love and answering fires of desire. Their
lips and tongues came together in mutual worship and they were swept once again
on a wave of passion.
When Susan woke the next morning, she
found herself alone in the little cottage. Momentary panic was swept aside when
she turned over to find a single orchid and a note on the pillow beside her.
My dearest Susan. Last night was
glorious. You are a miracle. I love you. You look absolutely delectable in the
morning. I felt it would be prudent for us to be discreet for the time being.
We need to let Becca get used to the idea of ''us.'' I'll be on tenterhooks
until I see you at breakfast I am a lucky man. Steve.
Susan smiled as she read the note over and
over. She hugged it to her chest .He loved her! He really did! She should have
felt exhausted but she was filled with energy and vitality. She jumped out of
bed and headed for the shower. Half an hour later, she was showered, made up,
and dressed in a deep purple Indian cotton caftan that reached almost to her
ankles and fell saucily off one shoulder. Brilliant embroidery livened up the
bodice. She added outrageously large yellow earrings and yellow flip-flops and
then headed into the house with a jaunty step.
She was alone in the dining room when she
felt arms reach around her and pull her back into a hard, muscular body.
"Hello, gorgeous," Steve growled
into her neck, before turning her around to plant a firm, emphatic kiss on her
startled mouth.
She pushed him away, looking around in
some panic. "Steve, what if somebody sees us?" A cough made them both
jump.
"Too late," Marty said with
laughter in his voice. "You've been found out!"
Steve put his arm around Susan's waist and
turned to face his younger brother.
"Well," Steve said, "I
guess the secret isn't going to be a secret after all. What do you think little
brother?'
Marty looked from Steve to Susan, both of
them intent on his reply. His smile broadened and he walked over to hug them
both.
"I think it's great!!" he said
genuinely. Both Susan and Steve let out a sigh of relief. "I must say, big
brother, that this is the most sense you've shown in a long time. I only regret
that it means that Susan is off the market."
"Oh really," Steve said
speculatively, "is there something I should know?" Both Susan and
Marty yelled no at the same moment and then collapsed in laughter.
"What's so funny so early in the
day?" Justine asked as she sauntered into the dining room. She sensed
undercurrents in the room but true to her self-centered nature, she failed to
realize their source. "Where's the coffee? God, I feel like death warmed
over."
"Well, my dear," Marty said
smugly, "then this should perk you right up."
"Marty, no," Susan said
nervously.
"No, teach," he replied,
"this is great news and needs to be shared."
"What are you talking about,
Martin?" Justine asked testily.
"Well," Marty warmed to the
moment, "apparently love has bloomed right under our very noses. It seems
that Steve and Susan are an item. How do you like them apples?"
Justine's head snapped up and she stared
disbelievingly at her sister standing in the circle of Steve's arm. Her face
registered a myriad of emotions before she was able to gain her composure and
respond to the news.
"Well, how...lovely," she
purred. Walking to Susan she planted a kiss on her cheek. "Oh sis, what a
sly one you are. You've really surprised us all."
"Oh really?" Marty said. "I
don't think it's such a surprise. Susan's a great girl and Steve's got great
taste. It's really very simple."
"Of course," Justine said.
"I'm happy for you both."
"Thank-you, Justine," Susan said
softly. Steve leaned over and kissed Susan's cheek.
"I guess it's unanimous then,"
Steve said.
"What's unanimous?" asked the
little voice from the doorway. Becca walked in, puzzlement written on her face.
Steve and Susan looked at each other and then at the curious nine-year-old.
Steve went down on his knees before his daughter.
"Honey," he began, taking her
hands in his, "something lovely has happened here. Susan...Miss Shaw and I
find that we like each other an awful lot and we hope you don't mind if we're
boyfriend and girlfriend."
Becca looked from her father to Susan and
back again, her eyes widening and understanding appearing on her face.
"You and Miss Shaw?" she said
with wonder. "Really?"
"Yes, really," Steve said
smiling.
"ALL RIGHT!" Becca leaped into
father's arms raining kisses all over his face. She then leaped into Susan's
arms wrapping herself around the astonished woman.
"I'm so happy!" Becca squealed.
"You mean, you don't mind,"
Susan said incredulously.
"Are you kidding? Why would I
mind?" Becca said gleefully. "This is great! I guess this kind of
makes Daddy the teacher's pet." At this the adults burst into laughter.
All except Justine. She remained quiet and withdrawn throughout the celebratory
breakfast. Her eyes remained riveted on Steve and Susan as they sat holding
hands and gazing into each other's eyes. Ruth had added her own delighted
congratulations.
It came as a surprise when, later in the
day, Justine announced she was packed and leaving. She said she had had word
from her agent and was needed at a shoot in Monaco. Susan barely had time to say
good-bye before her sister was whisked away on the launch.
If Steve and Susan could have been privy
to the after-breakfast conversation between Justine and Marty, then perhaps her
motives might have been clearer.
"So, Juss," Marty drawled,
"it seems that Steven is suddenly attached. It kind of puts a crimp into
your plans."
"What do you mean?" Justine
snapped.
"Well, it's just that you had your
sights set on big brother," Marty continued with a wry grin and cold
mocking eyes. "And his money, no doubt. Well at least you'll have a rich
relative now."
Justine turned angrily in his direction.
"Damn it Marty!" she snapped.
"You can be so stupid! And so cruel."
Marty's guffaw exploded as his eyes
widened in mock surprise.
"Me? Cruel? You'd better think again,
sweetheart! It wasn't me who dumped you in favor of my brother."
"Oh Marty." Marty was
momentarily puzzled by the genuine tone of hurt in her voice. "You don't
understand. You never did."
"Then clue me in, Juss," he
demanded. "Explain to me why you wrote that lovely Dear John letter from
Paris and then, not a month later, ended up on a date with my brother. Explain
please. I'm fascinated."
Marty's voice had grown progressively
louder, his last words edged in venom. And as suddenly, his anger left in a
rush as, to his astonishment, Justine burst into tears.
"I don't blame you for being
angry," she sobbed. "I'd be the same. We were so happy together but I
just couldn't believe...I didn't deserve...I..." Her voice trailed off as
the wrenching sobs took over. Marty closed the space between them and gently
took her into his arms. She melted against him, her body racked with sorrow.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he
muttered in amazement.
The next few days were a blur of domestic
bliss. Steve had to begin work on his hotel project by meeting with contractors
and government officials during the day. Susan and Becca continued their school
lessons and caring for their thriving flower gardens. Dinner was a festive time
filled with laughter and talk as Steve, Susan and Becca continued to get to
know each other. Marty often joined them and added his own personal brand of
entertainment. Susan had never been happier and was only more delighted when
she heard from Gwen.
"Oh Gwen," she enthused when she
heard her friend's voice over the phone. "You'll never believe what's
happened. It's too incredible!"
"Oh really," Gwen said, laughing
at her friend's obvious euphoria. "You sure sound different from the last
time we talked."
Susan went on to explain about Steve and
their burgeoning romance.
"Oh my God!" Gwen screamed.
"That's fantastic!" Susan heard muffled words as Gwen obviously
turned to relay the news to Barry. "See, I told you!"
"So I guess the reason for your
coming here is kind of gone now." Susan said.
"Too late!" Gwen said.
"We're already here!"
"Where?" Susan couldn't believe
her ears.
"Barry and I are at the Four Winds.
You never told me how gorgeous it was. So when can we get together, girlfriend?
I want to meet this paragon of virtue of yours."
Susan was thrilled. She got Gwen's number
and promised to call her as soon as she spoke to Steve. It was now perfect. Her
best friends and the man she loved were going to meet. And she knew that they
would love each other immensely. Could it get any better than this?
Steve was enthused to meet the couple he'd
heard so much about. They arranged to have dinner and go dancing at the Four
Winds that evening. Becca decided to go to Ruth's house for the weekend. Ruth
had a granddaughter near Becca's age and the two girls liked to play together
when they could. That left Steve and Susan with some time alone before they
went to the resort. It was inevitable that they would end up in Steve's
bedroom.
His room was warm and comfortable. The
king size, deeply carved cannonball bed was covered in a burgundy comforter.
Rich oriental carpets in shades of burgundy and green covered the polished
hardwood floors. A Tall antique dresser took up one wall, while a well-stocked
bookshelf, a comfy armchair, and pole lamp took up another.
Their lovemaking was more aggressive and
passionate this time. Their need overtook them, sending them hurtling forward.
Clothes were shed with uncommon speed. Flesh cleaved to flesh, the heat fueling
their lust for one another. They endeavored to touch every part of each other.
Mouths, tongues, hands, and bodies caressed, explored, tasted and touched. She
begged him to love her. He plunged deeply into her, filling her completely. She
lunged upward, driving him even deeper into her. They rose and fell together in
the timeless rhythm of love and their climactic explosion sent them spiraling
into space, fulfilled, released, full of joy and satisfaction with each other.
"Will it be like this always?"
Susan murmured as they lay together basking in the afterglow.
"Yes, my beauty," Steve
murmured. "You excite me beyond reason. I just want to go on making love
to you endlessly. I've never felt this way before.
"Neither have I," Susan said
shyly. "I never thought I could be so uninhibited."
Steve chuckled. "And I'm glad you
are! You bring out the animal in me. Speaking of which, this animal is still
hungry."
Susan reached out to stroke his hot flesh.
She felt him quiver with excitement.
"I guess we should do something about
that," she teased as he moved his body over hers. Once again their need
for each other carried them away.
The glow on both of their faces when they
arrived at the resort to see Gwen and Barry was evident. Introductions were
made and happiness expressed at their finding one another. Steve liked Gwen
instantly, finding her to be open and genuine. He found Barry a bit more
reserved and sensed something under the surface, although he couldn't quite put
his finger on it. Susan however was delighted to be reunited with her friends
and couldn't stop chattering in excitement.
Dinner was delightful, the prime rib
cooked to perfection. Gwen regaled Steve with stories of her and Susan's
exploits at home. Barry was able to provide some anecdotes from Highgate. Susan
related some of Marty's escapades and Steve filled in with a few more.
Dancing in Steve's arms was like heaven
revisited. She closed her eyes and relived their sensuous afternoon. It ran
through her mind that every fat woman should find such happiness. If only every
large woman could find a man who would look at her the way Steve looked at
Susan. If every fat girl who had ever felt less than pretty could be made to
feel desirable and beautiful. It was like a dream. Suddenly, her body was her
friend. It felt lighter, more supple, and more graceful than ever before. When
she and Steve walked with their arms around each other, and people looked and
commented, she knew it was because they looked so stunningly happy together and
not because this great looking guy was with a fat woman. She knew she was even
walking differently, her head up, meeting the world face to face.
But the only face she wanted to see was
Steve's and here he was.
The evening ended with Steve promising the
launch to pick up Gwen and Barry late the next morning to bring them to the
house. They would lunch and lounge around the pool. Maybe they'd try a little
sailing if the weather cooperated.
The day dawned bright and clear. Since
Becca was away for the night, Susan and Steve had spent the entire night in
each other's arms, waking to love one another and then sleeping wrapped around
each other. Susan loved the feeling of waking in her lover's arms.
"Good morning, beautiful," Steve
murmured huskily, still half asleep. He reached up to cup her breast.
"Good morning," she responded
shyly.
"Let's just stay like this all
day," he urged her, pulling her closer. She felt the first stirrings of
his arousal.
"That could be a little
awkward." She smiled. "Gwen and Barry will be here in a couple of
hours."
"Let them find their own bed,"
he said, causing her to burst into laughter. With a moan, he nuzzled into her
neck, tickling her and sending her into further gales of laughter.
"You keep jiggling against me like
that," he said sexily, "and we won't be getting out of this bed any
time soon." He ran his hands over her body. "You feel so good,"
he growled.
She reached around to stroke his hip and
thigh. Turning her head, their lips met and they kissed slowly and deeply.
"And it's easy to tell just how good
you feel," she murmured sultrily. "It's pressed against my
backside."
He chuckled. "That's what you do to
me, you sexy thing, you. I can't help myself. And I also can't ever remember
being this turned on by any woman before. I think you've cast a spell over me.
Have you, my beautiful witch? Have you cast a spell over me?"
Rising to his game, she smiled. "Yes,
I have. You're mine forever, whether you want to be or not!"
"Believe me, I want!" He planted
another passionate kiss on her willing lips. "Now, what's it to be. Do we
continue this love play and scandalize your friends or do we get up and shower
together and breakfast together and ..." He made his preference known by
once again nuzzling into her neck.
"Sorry Romeo," Susan said,
"but it's out of bed we get." She sat up turning to kiss his chest
before rising out of bed and stretching her muscles.
"Oh you cruel woman." Steve
groaned taking in her luscious curves with hungry eyes. "Why do you tease
me like that?" He then pantomimed plunging a dagger in his heart and fell
back on the bed.
Laughing, Susan sauntered into the
bathroom to take her shower. She had no sooner stepped under the hot spray than
Steve joined her. Together they playfully lathered and rinsed each other as
they shared kisses and caresses.
By the time they were finally dressed and
sitting down to coffee, they could hear the launch arriving at the dock. Gwen
and Barry oohed and aahed at the incredible house. Ruth had left wonderful
salads and a fruit flan for lunch. The foursome then changed into bathing suits
and took up residence by the pool.
"So tell us how you knew Susan was
the one for you," Gwen asked Steve.
"I knew it the moment I saw her,"
Steve said looking lovingly at Susan. "She walked into the room and lit it
up. I couldn't take my eyes off her."
"I'm so happy for you both,"
Gwen gushed.
"Yep," Barry added, "it's
great Susan's found someone. Especially after all she's been through."
Susan blanched and Steve looked puzzled.
"What she's been through?"
"Damn!" Gwen said. "It
looks like you put your foot into it Barry. You didn't tell him, did you,
Suze?"
Susan shook her head, tears welling in her
eyes.
"Tell me what?" Steve sat
forward, an intent look on his face as the others remained silent. "Well, someone
tell me, damn it!"
Susan's wide eyes pleaded with Gwen to
speak on her behalf. Gwen reached over and squeezed Susan's hand in
reassurance. Then she turned to Steve and without embellishment filled him in
on the events of the previous few months. At the end of Gwen's story, Steve was
sitting with his head in his hands. Susan feared that maybe it would be too
much for him to handle. After all, what man wants a woman whose face has been plastered
over every rag in the country; a woman who had become a national fat joke? Pain
filled his eyes as he looked at her.
"You poor baby," he said, moving
to kneel at her feet and taking her hands in his. "Why didn't you tell me
this? Why didn't Justine?"
"I made her swear not to," Susan
sniffed through her tears. "You don't know how awful it was. I was on the
news and in the papers for weeks. They made such a joke out of things. I was
humiliated and I couldn't face the thought of dealing with that a moment
longer. I just couldn't talk about it." She finished weakly.
"I wish you had," Steve said
softly, "I would have been able to comfort you. I don't want anything to
hurt you ever again."
Love swelled in Susan's heart as she
looked at Steve, concern written in every line of his handsome face.
"She's lucky to have found you,"
Gwen commented. "Susan deserves some happiness now."
"And I intend to provide it,"
Steve said, standing. "Now, no more serious talk. Life begins anew as of
this moment. The sun is shining, we're surrounded by beauty, and it's a perfect
day for a sail. Get your things and we'll go."
Steve owned a trim sailboat big enough to
handle the sea waters around the island, but small enough not to require a full
crew. He was an accomplished sailor himself and was delighted to find that
Barry and Susan both had experience from the sailing instruction provided at
Highgate.
The waters were calm around the island and
the sailing went smoothly and without incident. They managed to tour a little
further and found a series of small, virtually deserted islands nearby. Steve
explained that they were mostly rock and hardly big enough to be worth building
on. But, he explained, the local kids and tourists liked camping out on them or
using them for illicit rendezvous. You could usually reach them in a small
motorboat, unless there was a storm. The waters became intensely perilous
during a storm because they were so deep. Steve told them that storms were a
rarity this time of year but when they hit, they hit without warning and with a
vengeance. He had only been caught in one once and never wanted to repeat the
terrifying experience.
Back at the house, Barry expressed his
admiration for the boat and Steve generously offered Barry the use of it
anytime he wished over the period of his vacation.
"Unfortunately, I'll have to get back
to work," Steve said ruefully. "I've embarked on a huge project here
on the island and there are still a lot of details that need to be taken care
of." Turning to Susan, he continued, "I may also have to make some
trips to New York on business. Will you miss me?"
"I'll be devastated," Susan
said, reaching up to plant a kiss on his tanned cheek. "But Becca and I
have our work to do, so we'll just keep each other busy."
"Well," Gwen said brightly,
"we'll just have to make sure we get over here regularly and keep Susan
occupied, won't we honey."
Barry looked intently at Steve and Susan
and then smiled. "Of course we will."
Again, Steve got an unsettling vibe from
Barry. He couldn't explain it, but he sensed that the other man didn't like him
or, more to the point, didn't approve of him. Maybe it was just a friend
watching out for another friend, but his experienced people radar told him it
went deeper than that. He made a mental note to talk to Susan about it later.
But later, Marty arrived with his latest
female conquest on his arm and introductions began again. True to form, he
charmed Gwen and Barry both, and spent the remainder of the evening at the
center of the entertainment. Steve soon forgot his concerns over Barry. The
launch came to take Gwen, Barry, Marty and his date back to Quintero Primo.
Susan and Steve, exhausted but pleased to be once again alone, retired to the
quaint little cottage. They were asleep, wrapped in each other's arms almost
before their heads hit the pillow.
They were up and breakfasting on poached
eggs, toast and coffee when an exuberant Becca bounded into the house. Hugging
both adults, she soon regaled them with tales of her weekend with Ruth's
family. Ruth laughingly pleaded exhaustion from having to deal with the nine-year-old
for all that time, but she looked none the worse for wear, a broad smile on her
face. Steve went to take a phone call and came back with the bad news.
"Well," he began, "there's
no rest for the wicked, it seems. There are more problems with the Japanese
deal. I need to go to New York immediately to sort things out. I'm sorry,
sweetheart, but I'll probably be gone for a few days."
Susan looked lovingly at him. He'd never
called her sweetheart before. She liked it. "Don't worry. Becca will keep
me from pining too much."
Steve bent and tenderly kissed her.
"Oooo, you guys!" Becca wailed
in mock horror. The two laughed at the wry expression on her face that didn't
quite hide the twinkle in her eyes.
Later, Susan stood with Steve locked in an
embrace as his driver loaded his luggage into the car.
"I can't imagine being separated from
you for even a moment," Steve said raining kisses down her cheek and neck.
"I feel the same way," Susan
breathed, "I just want to hold on to you and never let you go."
"I'll get back to you as soon as I
can, gorgeous," he said looking deeply into her eyes. "Hold on to the
fact that I love you. And when I get back, I think we should talk about our
future."
"Our future?" Susan said, hope
burning in her heart.
"Yes, yours and mine, together."
Steve said. "Susan, I want to marry you."
"Oh Steve!" Susan sighed. Their
lips met in a deep, long, passionate kiss that spoke more eloquently than words
their feelings for each other. Placing another brief peck on her soft lips,
Steve said good-bye to Susan and got into the car. Susan stood waving at the
car long after it was out of sight.
Susan and Becca missed Steve terribly. By
unspoken agreement, they filled their days and evenings with activities, with
schoolwork coming first. Their garden was thriving and needed weeding and
watering. Gwen and Barry came over late afternoons to swim, sail, and dine with
the Susan and Becca. It was on the third that Gwen announced her happy news.
"I'm pregnant!" she announced,
laughing at the shocked expressions on Susan's and Becca's faces. "Don't
be so alarmed. Forty-year-old women have babies all the time these days. I'm
one of a growing majority."
Susan jumped up to hug her tiny friend.
"I'm so thrilled for you...for you both." She hugged Barry not
noticing the strange look on his face.
"When?" Susan wanted to hear all
the details.
"I'm three months along," Gwen
said, grinning from ear to ear. "I thought something was going on but I
held off saying anything until I was certain and then until I felt safe to do
so."
Susan understood. Gwen had lost two babies
very early on in pregnancy.
"The doctor says I'm healthy and
everything looks normal, so..." She let her sentence trail off, looking
well satisfied with life.
"Yep," Barry piped in,
"pretty soon she'll be as big as a house and I won't be able to get my
arms around her."
"No chance of that." Susan laughed.
"You were quite capable of getting them around me."
"I guess I did, didn't I," Barry
replied cryptically.
"Cut it out, you two," Gwen said
in mock anger, "I refuse to get bigger than a small shed, so there!"
Later that night, after Gwen and Barry had
gone back to the resort, Susan lay in her bed missing Steve and reliving Gwen's
wonderful news. She knew that Gwen and Barry had tried for years for a family
and had actually given up. What a thrill it was to know that their dream was
finally coming true.
And now, her dreams were being realized,
too. Steve, a wonderful, sexy, warm man wanted to marry her. Her! For
the first time in her life, Susan didn't feel like the fat girl. In Steven's
eyes, she was the large lovely lady he wanted. Her dreams were filled with
visions of Steve and their life together. Maybe they would even one day be
announcing Susan's pregnancy. She'd have to remember to ask Steve about wanting
more children.
It seemed impossible to think that this
bubble of happiness could ever burst but it did, and in a most unexpected way.
Susan and Becca were working on the girl's
lessons on the patio, when Ruth came in to tell Susan that she had a telephone
call. Thinking it would be Steve, who tried to call a couple of times each day,
she ran into the house.
"Hello?" Silence stretched out
on the other end.
"Hello," she tried again, then
the breathing began. Hot, ragged breathing filled her ear.
"Who is this?" Susan demanded.
There was no answer, just that unsettling heavy breathing. Susan slammed the
receiver down.
"Ruth? Who was on the line?"
Susan asked, her heart pounding, shivers of fear running through her.
"Oh miss," Ruth said in her
singsong voice, "it was just the operator telling me that there was a
person-to-person call for you. They did not say who was calling. Is everything
all right?"
Ruth looked concerned at Susan's obvious
discomposure.
Casting a glance at Becca, Susan replied,
"Fine, Ruthie, fine. There wasn't anyone on the line when I picked up the
phone." That seemed to satisfy the big housekeeper and she went back
inside. A pall settled on the rest of Susan's day. She couldn't shake the sense
of foreboding she felt.
Odd things began to happen around the
complex.
Susan and Becca went out to their
vegetable plot one morning to find all the plants pulled up by the roots and
wilting in the hot tropical sun. No one had seen anyone do it. Another day they
found the tires on the jeep had been slashed. Again, no one had seen anything.
Susan called Marty and had him come to the house.
"Have you any idea who might be doing
this?" Marty asked.
"Not here," Susan said
adamantly.
"Here?" Marty quizzed. "You
mean someone elsewhere means you harm?"
"No," Susan shook her head,
"not any more." She went on to explain about Benny and the stalking
that had so terrified her.
"Is there any chance he could be out
of prison?"
"No, he got fifteen years. No way
he'd be out." Susan shook her head as if trying to convince herself.
Concern was apparent on Marty's face. He
liked Susan and he knew his big brother loved her. He'd do whatever he had to,
to help her.
"Have you told Steve yet?"
"Not yet," Susan replied.
"I didn't want to worry him unduly. But now I think he needs to know. Too
many things are happening. Maybe it has something to do with his business
dealings. He should call tonight. I'll tell him then."
"Good," Marty said, standing.
"I'll feel better when he's home with you and Becca. I'm going to do some
snooping around and see if I can turn up some more information. As far as I
know there are no problems with Steve's business but you never know. In the
meantime, I think you'd better call your friends Gwen and Barry and see if
they're willing to move over from the hotel and stay here too. Maybe more
people will keep this nutcase, whoever he is, from striking again."
Susan followed Marty's suggestion. It
didn't take much persuading for Gwen and Barry to pack up and move to the
house. Gwen was furious when she saw how distraught Susan was.
"How much does one person have to go
through in one lifetime?" she exclaimed taking Susan into her arms.
"You poor thing. What can we do?"
"Just being here is enough,"
Susan said. "Thank you. I'm grateful."
"Ah, cut it out, "Gwen said with
mock modesty, "What are friends for?"
"Yes," Barry added, "we'll
keep a close eye on you Susan. We wouldn't want anything to happen to our
girl."
Something in Barry's words or tone caused
shivers of apprehension to course through Susan.
Becca, thankfully, seemed oblivious to the
undertones in the room. She was delighted that Gwen and Barry had moved in and
initiated a game of Scrabble that took up the rest of the evening.
As Susan prepared for bed, she realized
that Steve hadn't called after all and felt disappointment. He was probably
tied up in business meetings and would undoubtedly call the morning. She fell
into a deeply troubled sleep, visions of a faceless menace chasing her.
Cloud cover made the next day dull,
reflecting Susan's state of mind. She hadn't slept well at all. The demons had
pursued her through her dreams. Steve still hadn't called, which worried Susan.
She hoped that nothing was wrong. To make matters worse, Gwen was confined to
bed, feeling extremely ill suddenly. Everyone was worried because of the baby.
She refused to see a doctor however, claiming that the excitement and heat was
probably the cause and that a day in bed would no doubt settle her system.
Becca was out of sorts and cranky. For the first time since Susan had won her
over, they quarreled over their lessons. Becca was whiny and Susan had snapped
at her. Tears were shed and Becca had fled to her room, leaving Susan feeling
awful.
Barry found her in the family room trying
desperately to get her mind focused on a book.
"Looks like it's just you and me
kid," he joked. "What'll we do to fill the time, hmm?"
Susan raised her tired eyes to look at
him. "I'm not very good company right now, Barry. Sorry. I didn't sleep
very well."
"Missing your boyfriend, are
you?" There was an unexpected sharp edge to Barry's question. Susan looked
at him oddly. He didn't sound quite like himself. And there was a residual
discomfort being alone with him.
"Of course I miss Steven," she
said. "Our relationship is so new. I just wish he'd call."
"I bet you do," Barry said.
"Well, I'll have to find some ways of taking your mind off him, won't
I?" Barry stood and began pacing in front of her.
"You know, I've been giving some
thought to all these weird things that have been going on. We never speculated
about whether it might be a woman involved in doing these things."
"A woman! "Susan looked sharply
at him. "What are you trying to get at?"
"Well, look at the facts,
Susan." Barry took on the tone of a classroom lecturer. "Your sister
arranges for you to come down here to tutor her new boyfriend's daughter. You
arrive and in your sister's absence, manage to steal her boyfriend right out
from under her. Knowing your sister, I imagine she's pretty pissed off."
Susan was shocked. "Are you
suggesting that Justine … That I …"
"Well, it makes sense, doesn't
it?" He smiled. "I know you don't want to believe that your own
sister could do anything of this magnitude against you, but think about it. We
all know what a selfish bitch she can be."
"Barry!" Susan's faced flushed
with anger. "How dare you talk about Justine like that! You hardly know
her."
"That may be, thank God," he
said pointedly. "But I've certainly heard enough about her exploits over
the years from both you and my wife. Admit it. She's self-absorbed and spoiled.
She gets pissed if she's not the center of attention at a party. Imagine how
angry she must have been about you and Steven. Notice how quickly she left when
she found out."
"She said she had a job in ..."
Susan faltered.
"Come on, Suze. Don't be naive."
Barry turned and nailed her with his glare. "You and I both know that she
didn't go to any job assignment. She's off seething somewhere. Isn't she
friends with Steven's ex? What a perfect person to go and cry to."
"Why are you saying all this?"
Susan cried. "Why are you trying to upset me?'
"Upset you? No." Barry looked
genuinely puzzled. "I'm merely trying to shed some light on the issue...to
get you to see another possibility. How far do you think Justine will go in her
revenge?"
"Stop it, Barry!" At this, Susan
stood, glaring back at her tormentor. "I will not, for one moment
entertain the notion that my own sister would want to do me harm. And it's
cruel of you to even suggest such an outrageous thing. Now I'm going to my room
and I'm going to try to forget this whole ridiculous conversation. I suggest
you do too!" Susan strode towards the door.
"You're always so damn superior!"
Barry snarled. Susan froze in her tracks.
"What?"
"Nothing." he said, looking at
her intently. His gaze began to make Susan feel uncomfortable. She fled the
room and ran to her cottage. She only began to breathe normally when she had
the door shut and locked behind her.
God, she was completely losing her grip.
Her imagination was working overtime if she was beginning to feel menace coming
from Barry. Regardless of her initial discomfort, she was certain that Barry
was a friend. Granted, she wasn't close to him like she was to Gwen, but that
was only natural. Women bonded more closely. Barry was her best friend's
husband. He was only trying to help her. In the clear light of reason, Susan
felt foolish. She'd over-reacted. Barry couldn't know about how close she and
Justine really were. He didn't understand the symbiosis of their relationship.
Yes, Justine was spoiled, but she wasn't vindictive ... Was she?
There she went again! Susan decided she
was in desperate need of a good night's sleep. Contrary to her usual behavior,
she took a sleeping pill to help her and drifted into a deep, blessedly
dreamless sleep.
Unbeknownst to Susan, another menace was
gathering force at the Four Winds Resort.
"...and you should see her,"
Cece continued, warming to her rapt audience, "she's huge! I mean,
positively huge!"
"Oh come now, Cece," admonished
a flush-faced older man to her right. "Susan was really quite nice. She
was a little quiet and shy, but nice."
"Sure she was," Cece
agreed," but she's hardly Steven's type. I mean, when I saw Marty squiring
her about, I couldn't believe it. It made more sense when she told me in the
ladies room that she was little Becca's tutor. But to find out that she and
Steve..." she shrugged and left the rest of the thought hanging.
"What do you think about all this,
Dierdre?" asked a tired looking brunette slouched in her seat.
Dierdre took a long puff on her cigarette
and languidly tapped the ashes as she prepared her reply.
"I really can't say," she
drawled in her deep, smoky voice. "Justine told me her sister was coming
down here to get away from some man trouble or something. Perhaps she saw poor
Steven as an easy mark. It's happened before."
The irony of this remark wasn't lost on
anyone at the table.
"Perhaps I'll just have to go over
there and size up the situation." She took another drag on her cigarette.
"Won't Steven be upset?" Cece
asked, leaning forward, relishing the possibilities of the drama.
"Who cares? He's always after me to
see Rebecca," she said bitterly. "Lord knows why. The child hates me.
But, as her mother, I do have a right to make sure she's in good hands. I'll
just be going to check out the tutor."
"How clever." Cece giggled.
"Hmmmm," Dierdre mused.
"We'll see."
Although the sky had cleared and the sun
shone brightly, the wind was brisk the next day. Susan found that Gwen was
still not feeling well and had opted for another day in bed. Barry went to town
to try to get some supplies for them. Ruthie was called home on an emergency.
Becca was in a better mood, so she and Susan proceeded smoothly with their
lessons all morning and well into the afternoon.
The sound of the launch arriving later
that afternoon was the excuse the two needed to put lessons aside for the day.
Assuming it was Barry returning with supplies, they decided to greet him at the
dock and help carry things up to the house. It was with infinite surprise that
Susan and Becca found not Barry, but an elegant, expensively clad woman
disembarking from the launch. She was dressed in a form-fitting halter sundress
that accentuated her slenderness and height and seemed to elongate her already
long legs tipped in dangerously high spike-heeled shoes. A ridiculously
wide-brimmed hat provided shade from the sun. Her eyes were hidden behind large
shades. Scarlet lips echoed scarlet nails. She was a study in designer
elegance.
"May I help you?" Susan asked
politely.
The woman stopped, seemingly surprised at
the question. With long tapered fingers, she removed her shades and arrogantly
surveyed Susan from tip to toe. The distaste reflected in her eyes made Susan
feel extremely uncomfortable and rather gauche. She took an immediate dislike
to this strange woman.
"And who, may I ask, are you?"
the woman asked in a husky, velvet purr.
"I am Susan Shaw. And you
are...?"
"Why, I'm Dierdre
Carson-LaBianca," the woman replied coolly. When that didn't seem to engender
response from Susan, she turned to Becca and said, "Darling, aren't you
going to introduce your mother?"
Both Susan and Becca gasped as one. Becca
paled and Susan put her arms around the bewildered child. Her dislike of the
woman increased ten-fold. What a horrible way to re-enter your child's life
after such a long absence, no preparation, no warning, just, bam,
hitting her like a ton of bricks.
Susan crouched down to look Becca in the
eyes. Becca seemed mesmerized by the woman and it took all of Susan's skill to
divert her attention and get through to her.
"Honey, I want you to go ahead to the
house," she instructed. "Call Ruth and see if she can get back here
today. Tell her we have a guest." After a moment the little girl complied,
obviously relieved not to have to deal with this momentous occasion any longer.
Susan turned to Dierdre in anger.
"I must say, I think it's awful how
you just surprised Becca like that. She's very vulnerable. Wouldn't it have
been kinder to have written first or at least called ahead and given us some
warning?'
"My dear," Dierdre drawled, not
the least touched by Susan's displeasure, "I am in the habit of doing as I
please, when I please. I thought it would be amusing to surprise everyone. Now,
where is Steven and everyone? And once again … who are you?'
"I am Becca's tutor," Susan said
defiantly and then with added bravado, "and I am Steven's
girlfriend."
Dierdre's eyebrows shot up and a look of
utter surprise came over her face. Then she humiliated Susan completely by laughing.
"You must be joking!" Susan
again found herself at the receiving end of a once-over. "I happen to know
that Justine Lafontaine's twin sister is tutoring Becca. And for that
matter, I happen to know that Justine and Steven are seeing one another. So whatever
fantasy you have concocted around Steven can just be put to rest. You're hardly
his type." With those hurtful words, she flounced past Susan and made her
way up the hill to the house.
Susan followed a few minutes later, after
taking a moment to swallow her shock and deal with this unexpected crisis. How
she wished Steven were here to support her and guide her in how to deal with
this … this … creature. Susan couldn't fathom how he could
ever have been married to such a witch in the first place. And poor Becca! She
was absolutely stunned. As far as Susan knew she hadn't heard from her mother
for about two years. This woman was a complete stranger. Resolve filled Susan.
She wouldn't let anything or anyone, including this rude woman, hurt Becca.
Susan found Dierdre ensconced in the
living room, a mute and mesmerized Becca standing in front of her.
"...and I see you're built like your
father's family. And that hair! Honestly!" Dierdre let out one of her
annoying bleats of laughter Susan was appalled to think that Becca's own mother
was dissecting the child like that.
"Yes, isn't it lovely!" Susan
said brightly, breezing swiftly into the room. "I love Becca's hair. It's
so thick and healthy, with all that wonderful natural curl. She's so
lucky!" Becca smiled gratefully at Susan, tears welling in her wide eyes.
Susan looked deeply into those eyes trying to convey strength and support.
"Sweetie, why don't you just go
upstairs and see how Gwen is feeling. See if she needs anything, okay?"
Susan smiled encouragement to the little girl. The look of relief on the
child's face tugged at Susan's heart and doubled her resolve to keep her from
further hurt. After Becca fled the room, Susan turned to Dierdre, her hands on
her hips, endeavoring to present a strong front that belied her intense
feelings of inferiority around this cold, beautiful woman.
"Who is this Gwen person?"
"Gwen is my best friend," Susan
replied brusquely. "She and her husband Barry are staying with us while
Steven is away on business for a few days.
"Well, this is all so cozy, isn't
it," Dierdre said through a sneer. "Except, as I said before, I know
that Justine's twin sister is the child's tutor and--"
"I am Justine's sister," Susan
interrupted, her cheeks red at the thought of the reaction to come.
"You're what?" Dierdre asked
incredulously.
"I am Justine's twin sister,"
Susan replied. "We're fraternal twins. But then, I guess that's
obvious."
"I'll say," Dierdre said.
"Well, you are a surprise! And I must say I'm surprised to find you so
cozily entrenched here. But then, Justine has always maintained that you're
jealous of her."
"What?" It was Susan's turn to
be incredulous.
"After all," Dierdre continued,
"Justine is the gorgeous model, with the perfect figure and face. She has
a successful career and a jet set lifestyle. And she certainly doesn't find
herself plastered all over every disreputable rag in North America, as I
understand you were. Frankly, I'm surprised you got all that notice, but then
the public is always hungry for something unusual."
Susan was astounded at the depth of this
woman's gall. But Dierdre wasn't finished.
"I think Justine was an angel to set
this up for you, especially since she and Steven were going through a rough
patch."
"A rough patch?" Susan was
fascinated by this woman's voice.
Dierdre smiled. "A lover's spat
really. Steven found out that Justine had a little fling with the photographer
on her last shoot. He was furious, of course, even though Justine assured him
it meant nothing. They had a huge fight but I know in time, they would have
patched things up. After all, they're so suited to one another. She has the
style and experience to fit into his fast-moving business world and he adores
beautiful things. And what's more beautiful than Justine?"
White heat radiated through Susan's body.
Her limbs felt weak and her heart beat a wild tattoo. Justine and Steven? But
he told her they'd only dated once. He said he didn't find her attractive. He
said that Susan was his beautiful love.
But, Susan reasoned, Dierdre was Justine's
close friend and Steven's ex-wife. Surely she would know the ins and outs of
their relationship. It horrified Susan to think that she could have been wrong
about everything.
"But Steven and I have … have
been dating," Susan said, stumbling over the words. "We love one
another. He's been talking about marriage." Even to her ears, it sounded
lame, as if she was trying to convince herself.
Dierdre laughed her annoying titter.
"But darling, don't you see? He was trying to make Justine jealous! It's
an age-old tactic. Use one woman to make another one jealous. Surely you're not
so naive..." At Susan's reddened face, she tittered again. "Maybe you
are! Well, now I've seen everything. The last of the innocents. I mean, I ask
you. Look at yourself. How could you think that Steven would be attracted to
you? After all, he was married to me!"
This last comment was too much Susan was
hurt, angry, confused and humiliated. She had to get away from this viper and
sort out truth from fiction. She needed to get her grounding again, to find the
sense of confidence that she had found with Steven these last few weeks.
"I think it best, in Steven's
absence, that you leave," Susan said with as much dignity as she could
muster.
"Of course," Dierdre drawled,
amusement in her eyes. "I had no intention of staying here. It's a little
off the beaten track for my taste. Always has been. I'm at the Four Winds, the
penthouse suite. When Steven and Justine get back, please tell them where they
can reach me, won't you dear?"
With indifference to Susan's state of
turmoil, the elegant creature unfolded herself from her perch and glided from
the room. Susan seemed to hold her breath, her body tense, until she heard the
front door close behind Dierdre. Even then, Susan didn't move until she heard
the launch pull away from the dock.
What an insufferable woman! She made it
sound as if Steven and Justine were together somewhere. Then Susan began to
think. Was that why Steven hadn't called this last couple of days? Were he and
Justine off somewhere having a lover's reunion? Susan blanched at the idea. She
couldn't have been so wrong about Steven … could she? Her own sister
couldn't be so cruel … could she?
Susan didn't remember Dierdre leaving, or
herself walking out to her cottage. She just remembered the ache in her heart
as the tears coursed down her face.
All her life, she'd been the butt of
jokes. It seemed that as other areas of prejudice became socially unacceptable,
the prejudice against large people grew in proportion. While she was proud of
her education and securing a good job, she never felt that she was good enough.
People's reactions to her size seemed to overshadow any accomplishments …
until Steven. Steven had, for a short time anyway, made her feel beautiful and
desirable and, best of all, normal. For the first time, someone had looked at
her with complete acceptance. To think it might have all been a ruse was too
much to bear. But it made so much sense. Confused thoughts coursing through her
mind, Susan sat at the table and cried as if her heart would break. As indeed,
she was sure it had.
Barry found her some time later after
deciphering Becca's somewhat disjointed account of her mother's short visit
that afternoon. He knocked, then entered the cottage, to find Susan still
sitting at her table, her head in her arms. Her crying had ceased, and she
appeared to have drifted into a restless sleep.
"Susan," he said, shaking her
shoulder. She sat up, startled, not registering her surroundings at first. Then
it all hit anew. Tears welled in her eyes again.
"It was horrible," she said to
him and sobbed.
"Becca told me," Barry said
grimly. He knelt and took her hands in his with unaccustomed gentleness.
"Gwen is worried sick about you. She's been keeping Becca amused and I've
promised to bring you into the house so she can see you're all right. But I
think we'd better get you settled down first. Why don't I take you out for a
sail? The fresh air will do you good, and it will give you time to gather your
thoughts."
"Isn't it rather late to go
sailing," Susan asked. "It will be dark soon, won't it?"
"Not really," Barry said.
"Remember, it stays lighter out on the water. We'll just go for a short
sail around the immediate area, just enough to get a breather. Come on, what do
you say?"
Susan had to admit, she was attracted to
the idea of getting away from the memories of that afternoon if only for a
short time. She did need to gather her thoughts. She wanted to be strong for
Becca and she needed to make some decisions regarding Steven and her sister.
Susan was glad she agreed to go with Barry
as soon as they left the dock. The breeze felt soothing on her hot face and the
fresh air made her feel stronger and calmer. She closed her eyes and tilted her
head back to let herself indulge in nature's healing ways. She needed to forget
the turmoil of that afternoon for a while and find some way to deal with her
confusion. As she focused on clearing her mind, she missed the look of triumph
that was evident on Barry's face, and the evil that lit up his eyes.
An abrupt change in the feel of the breeze
roused Susan from her reverie. She was startled to see the dark clouds quickly
filling the sky and to feel the pronounced pitch of the boat in the now rough
waters.
"Barry!" she said in alarm.
"It looks like a storm is coming. Shouldn't we turn back?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
The tone of Barry's voice caused alarm to flood through Susan. She turned to
look at him and was startled to see the cold disdain on his face.
"Barry?" she questioned.
"Would you listen to yourself?"
he said mockingly. "Barry? You really are too much! You expect me
to fall down like other men at your feet and bend to your wishes, don't you?
But I'm not like other men. I've waited a long time for you Susan and it is all
going to be as I wish. Do you understand?"
"You've … you've waited a long
time?" Susan was confused. "What do you mean? Barry, what are you
talking about?"
"Don't be stupid!" he snapped.
Cold fear gripped Susan's heart. "I know you've felt the attraction
between us. We're meant for one another. I know you've waited, protecting
Gwen's feelings, but we can't wait any longer. I can't let Steven take you away
from me."
"Barry, I don't understand
this!" Susan felt panic building within her. She fought it down, realizing
her life depended on her keeping a clear head. The storm was building around
them even as the storm built within this man who was now a stranger to her.
"How innocent you seem," said
Barry with admiration. "Even the police believed you when you testified in
court against Benny. Poor stupid Benny. He didn't even know what hit him, did
he? How lucky for me that he had that nasty little past. And imagine how
fortunate it was that he chose to attack you when he did. I'm afraid the police
were getting a little too close for comfort. I was going to have to do something
drastic." With these words, he patted the hunting knife attached to his
belt. Fear rose in Susan's throat. She hadn't noticed the knife before.
"Thankfully, Benny saved me the
bother," Barry continued. "And you protected me, my Susan. You kept
our little secret."
"What little secret?"
Understanding dawned in Susan's mind, horrible, clear understanding. Dear God,
she'd delivered herself into the hands of a fiend.
"Don't play with me!" Barry
snarled, his eyes blazing in anger. "I am not a fool like Steven! Why else
wouldn't you turn me in to the police if you didn't care for me too? It was
then that I knew we had to be together forever."
"My God, Barry," Susan
whispered. "You were the one who was stalking me?"
"Of course," he said proudly.
"You knew that. I missed you terribly when you went away. How clever of
you to arrange for Gwen and I to come down here. I really didn't know what you
had in mind until you had Gwen and I come to stay at the house while Steven was
away. It was then that I knew that you wanted me to take charge. Gwen was a
problem. I do care for her, as you do. I couldn't cause her harm. So, once
again, how fortunate that she should take ill with her pregnancy." With
this last statement he looked worriedly at Susan. She thought she had never
seen anyone so deranged.
"Don't worry about the baby. I mean,
it doesn't mean anything. Not like our babies will. Gwen wanted a child
so badly and I thought it would be a comfort to her after we ran away
together." He smiled a lover's smile that made Susan's skin crawl. She was
in the middle of a nightmare and couldn't wake up.
"Why do you need the knife,
Barry?" Susan's skin crawled as Barry chuckled in response.
"Let's just call it insurance, shall
we?" As he chuckled again, Susan could only guess what the insurance was
against.
The boat pitched alarmingly and the motion
seemed to break through Barry's delusional state. Real fear registered on his
face.
"The storm has come up quickly,"
he shouted. "I'm going to head for shore."
Susan held on tightly, praying for safe
release from this horror. Water lashed her face as the waves were beaten into a
frenzy by the now howling winds. Susan's stomach lurched with each rise and
fall of the frail craft.
Barry headed the boat toward the nearest
land, a small deserted island, one of the dozens in the area. The surf lifted
the little boat high into the air and dropped it unceremoniously onto the rocks
on shore. This was the last clear image that Susan had before blacking out.
She awoke to rain pounding a tattoo on her
face. She was mercifully on shore. Lifting her head she could see the now
damaged sailboat being tossed about like a child's toy. She couldn't have been
unconscious for long if the boat was still in relatively one piece. Where was
Barry? Panic gripped her again as she relived the horrifying revelations on the
boat.
Barry had been her stalker all along! He'd
been the maniac that had turned her secure world upside down! The viper had
lived in her backyard all this time and she'd been too blind to see! Not only
that, but she had invited him into her hideaway. Oh God, how she wished Steven
were here. She needed the comfort of his strong, loving arms. But wait, that
was the other part of this whole horrible nightmare. Steven wasn't really hers.
He didn't really want fat, ugly Susan. He deserved Justine, someone who'd fit
into his life.
"Susan!" Susan's heart jumped
into her throat. It was Barry, calling for her. She tried to determine where
the voice was coming from. It was hard to tell in all the noise of the storm.
"Susan! Answer me!"
Susan knew she had to hide. She couldn't
let Barry find her again. She prayed that help would come. Somehow she had to
find a way out of this mess, if only she could keep hidden from the deranged
man. Awkwardly, Susan managed to get on her feet and headed into the cover of
the brush near the shore. She felt safer once she was no longer in the open.
The trees seemed to lessen the force of the rain and she was able make her way
inland.
The landscape quickly elevated and she found
it difficult to climb. She wasn't built for this kind of athletic activity
normally, but thankfully her fitness level due to all her swimming and walking,
and the adrenaline rush from pure fear, allowed her to surmount the physical
difficulties and reach a spot far above the beach. Unfortunately, once again
out of the cover of foliage, she was at the mercy of the elements. She knew she
had to find some cover and wait out the storm. She could no longer hear Barry
calling. He'd either stopped or she was out of his reach.
Tired as she was, she continued along the
ledge hoping to find a shallow cave or an outcropping to provide some shelter.
Suddenly a bolt of lightning followed by a deafening clap of thunder caused
Susan to scream and jump. Losing her footing on the wet, rocky ground, she
found herself falling down an incline into a mass of greenery below. It was
impossible to tell where bottom was and Susan prayed it wasn't too far. The
stab of pain up her left leg let her know that she had reached the end of her
fall. The jolt to her shoulder emphasized the point before she blacked out.
Barry's frenzy knew no bounds. He'd been
knocked unconscious when the boat crashed on shore. When he came to and
couldn't find Susan, he panicked. Calling her name frantically, he walked down
the beach, the driving rain blinding him, making his search futile.
As the minutes passed and became an hour,
he became angry. She wasn't getting away from him again. He'd finally
acknowledged their relationship. She should be happy. So where was the
ungrateful cow!
He couldn't remember exactly when it was
that Susan had managed to take over his reason. He recalled feeling
thunderstruck at his first meeting with his Amazon beauty. She was such a
striking contrast to his petite wife. But he had never admitted his lifelong
attraction to large, physically powerful women to anyone. He deliberately chose
Gwen as his wife, as proof of his normal desires and he had, for a time, been
content. But Susan's titanic presence, her flaming hair, her deep emerald eyes,
all managed to rattle his resolve. He found himself fantasizing about her all
the time. At night he would awaken from strange, erotic dreams filled with her
presence. His fascination quickly turned to obsession and he found himself going
to extraordinary lengths to watch her and monitor her daily life.
The ideas for the secret admirer letters
were inspired, he thought. He thrilled to hear her talk about them with Gwen,
the two women giggling over the poetic prose he managed to invent.
But the hunger and need in him grew and
grew until it was in danger of consuming him. He poured his longing out in the
notes, sure that she would read and understand. But she had betrayed him and
gone to the police. He was furious.
But what fools the police and she had
been, to think they could so easily catch him. Of course, Susan told Gwen and
Barry everything. It was easy for him to forge a love note in her name and send
it to poor, feeble-minded Benny. He'd watched Benny looking at Susan. He knew
Susan's kindness to the little man had made him develop a crush on her. It was
easy to convince him that she wanted him too.
What a laugh it had all been! Well, now
the laughing was over. It was time now to get serious. But where was she? He
picked up his large knife and stuck it in his belt. A determined look gripped
his features. Come hell or high water, Susan was his!
Steven sat in the back of the car,
exhausted and stress worn. It had been a grueling few days of negotiating and
troubleshooting to get the Japanese deal back on track. But he was satisfied
that at last things were well in hand and he could return home.
He was thrilled at the prospect of coming
home. Not only was his lovely daughter waiting for him, but now his beloved
Susan.
Susan. Just her name made his heart beat faster and a smile
appear on his face. How lucky he was to have finally met a woman who made him
happy. He never would have believed it was possible to feel like this,
especially at his age and with his romantically disastrous past. But Susan had
completely swept him away.
He was taken with her from the first
moment, thinking that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. True,
she wasn't one of those model types that everyone thought were so gorgeous. Her
beauty was uniquely hers. That's what Steven loved the best. She was unique,
one of a kind, rare. And he loved her. Every inch and ounce of her.
He had always found a fuller figure more
alluring, believing that real women should have curves. To him, it spoke of
true femininity. But as a young man, pressures to conform were strong. His
buddies mercilessly razzed him if they thought he was looking at one of the fat-assed
girls at school. Steven was torn. And he really wasn't strong enough to stand
against his peers. Consequently he hadn't dated much and was quite
inexperienced by the time he met Dierdre. By then he was devoted to his work
and making money. She actively pursued him and he just kind of gave in. It had
been a miserable experience and a torturous lesson to learn. But he learned it.
He'd never settle for second best again.
He took a small velvet case out of his
jacket pocket. Opening it he looked at the marquis cut emerald surrounded by
diamonds nestled there. And he smiled. He planned on formally proposing to
Susan tonight. As soon as he could get her alone, he was going to get down on
one knee, take her hand and not let it go until she agreed to be his wife.
There had been some delay with his flight
because of the storm but it finally let up and he was able to get through. How
impatient he'd been last night, pacing and checking the time every fifteen
minutes. He'd just about driven his pilot crazy while they waited for
clearance. He smiled just thinking about being the nervous bridegroom.
The house was a welcome sight at last. He
leaped out of the car and was in the house in a flash.
"Susan! Becca! I'm home!" he
yelled, and was met by silence. "Susan! Becca!" he tried again. This
time he was rewarded.
"Daddy!" An obviously distraught
Becca came tumbling down the hall to throw herself sobbing into his arms.
"You're home! You're home!"
Steven was shocked at Becca's state. After
her sobbing abated he held her at arms length.
"What's wrong, baby? Why are you
crying?"
"Oh, Daddy." The tears began
once more. "It's been awful. Mommy was here and Susan was crying and Gwen
is sick and Barry took Susan for a ride in the sailboat and the storm came and
they didn't come back and I couldn't make the phone work and I didn't know what
to do!"
"Slow down!" Steve was stunned
by Becca's words. "Where's Ruth?"
"She had to go home. Her daughter was
sick." Becca sniffed. "Uncle Marty had to go away too. All these
weird things started happening. Someone pulled all the vegetables up and
slashed the tires on the jeep and Uncle Marty didn't want us to be alone here.
So Gwen and Barry came to keep us company."
"Good for Uncle Marty," Steve
said, thankful that his brother had been there. He was alarmed that someone had
been threatening his family.
"Where's Gwen?" he asked.
"She's sick. She's upstairs in bed.
She's having a baby."
"What?" Steve was confused.
"Not now," Becca hiccupped.
"She's sick because she's going to have a baby and it's not agreeing with
her. That's what she said."
Steve bounded down the hall to the
guestrooms and knocked on Gwen's door. A weak voice bade him enter. He was
alarmed at the grey pallor of Gwen's complexion. She looked so tiny huddled
under the blankets.
"Don't look so worried," she
said with her usual humor. "I'm pregnant, not dying. Didn't Becca's mother
ever have morning sickness with her?"
"Actually, no," Steve replied.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"Absolutely," Gwen said
adamantly. "My morning sickness just happens to be lasting around the
clock for now. It should pass."
"Can I do anything?" he asked.
"Yes," Gwen said. "You can
get this household back in order. I understand from Becca that there's been
some excitement the last twenty-four hours. Unfortunately, I wasn't in any
condition to help. Dierdre was here, you know."
"Becca was saying something about
that. When was Dierdre here?" Steve couldn't imagine what would possess
his ex-wife to show up after all this time. And he was horrified to think what
Becca must be going through.
"Yesterday," Gwen responded,
"or was it the day before? I've kind of lost track of time. Anyway, she
wasn't here long. I take it she had a bit of a chat with Susan and then
hightailed it back to town. Don't worry too much about Becca, Steven. She was
awestruck more than anything. She and I had a long chat and she's pretty
realistic where her mother is concerned. Quite frankly, I think she already
thinks of Susan as her mother."
"I'm so glad." Steven smiled.
"I'm asking her to marry me, you know."
"I should hope so," Gwen said
with mock ferocity. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to
you!"
"Don't I know it. But where is
she?"
"Isn't she downstairs with
Barry?" Gwen asked in genuine confusion.
"Neither of them are here,"
Steven said, beginning to feel afraid. "Wait! Becca said something about
them going for a sail. You don't think..." Both of them registered alarm
at the same time.
"Dear God, the storm!" Gwen
said. "It was terrible. If they were out in that…" The rest was
left unsaid.
Steve took action immediately. He checked
the landing and indeed the boat was missing. Running back to the house, he
found Becca and made her relate whatever she could remember. Unfortunately it
wasn't much. Barry had gone to town for supplies. He gathered that Dierdre had
been her usual acerbic self. Becca related how Susan had sent her upstairs to
check on Gwen but that she had later heard Susan crying, after her mother had
left. She wasn't sure when Barry came back or when they had decided to go for a
sail. She tried the phones to call Uncle Marty or Steven but the phones
wouldn't work. This puzzled Steven.
Steve picked up the receiver and, sure
enough, the lines were dead. Whether they were knocked out by the storm or
whether they'd been tampered with, he couldn't tell and at the moment--and he
didn't much care. He did need to find Susan. If she and Barry had been out on
the boat last night during the storm, then they could have been capsized or run
aground. His heart pounded as he thought of Susan, adrift and terrified on the
open sea. Fear activated him.
Using his car phone, he was able to raise
the local Marine Rescue and tell them of his situation. They promised to
organize a search immediately. Next, he called Marty's cell phone number,
hoping his brother was powered on. He was in luck. In a clear, concise manner,
he related what he knew to his brother. Marty, in return, related what he had
been able to find out. It seemed that a man answering Barry Delaney's
description had hired a motor boat from a local dealer on two occasions, both
times corresponding to the strange activities at the house. Steven's blood ran
cold as he began to put pieces together. The odd vibes he had gotten from Barry
from their first meeting, the strange attacks on the property, now this sailing
trip while his wife lay ill. Could there be more to Barry than they had
realized? Could Barry somehow have been mixed up in all that business with
Susan back home? Was Susan in danger?
Steve knew he couldn't wait for anyone to
find Susan for him. He had to get out there and search himself. He instructed
Marty to get a launch and get to the house as soon as possible. Together he and
his brother would find Susan. They had to!
Mercifully, Susan remained unconscious
through much of the night. It was the throbbing pain in her shoulder and the
sound of her name that woke her finally.
At first she thought that the events of
the previous day had all been a bad dream. But as she tried to move her ample
frame to get more comfortable, she realized that it was reality and the pain
and fear were the most realistic of all. She groaned, then clenched her teeth
to keep herself from making further noise. She couldn't be sure where Barry was
and heaven help her if he found her now. She wouldn't be able to flee him and
she had no desire to be anywhere near that madman.
She heard her name being called, and there
was no mistaking the voice.
It was Barry. Bile rose in Susan's throat.
He sounded so near. She quickly took in her surroundings. Would he be able to
see her? Despite the agony it produced, Susan forced herself to hunker deeper
into the foliage. If she remained still, she felt confident he wouldn't see
her.
"Susan!"
God, it sounded as if he were right above
her. She chanced moving her head to look up, and gasped as she realized he was
indeed just a few feet above her. She could see his feet and legs clearly. If
he bothered to look straight down... It didn't bear thinking about.
"Susan! I know you can hear me!"
He sounded angry, agitated "Why are you doing this? We can be together at
last! Why are you hiding from me? Answer me!" His voice bordered on the
edge of hysteria. There was silence for a moment. Then his voice came again,
changed and eerie. "Play hard to get, if you wish." There was a
sinister undertone to his soft words. Shivers ran down Susan's spine. "But
rest assured, I will find you. I waited a long time for you."
Susan heard his footsteps move on. Her
relief was palpable. Somehow she had to get away from him. But how? It seemed
hopeless. She was stranded on this rock with a madman and there was nothing she
could do about it. Her ankle and shoulder throbbed. Tears began to course down
her cheeks. She wanted to scream her frustration and her rage at her
circumstances, but she bit back the impulse. It was then that she heard the
plane.
It was obviously flying low. It flew
directly over where she lay. Looking through the leaves that covered her, she
could make out the silver undercarriage. It had to be a search plane. Why else
would they be flying so low? That meant that Steven knew she was lost. Perhaps
he even realized that she was in trouble.
Suddenly hope was alive again in her
heart. If she could figure out a way to signal the search party ... but how?
Chancing a confrontation with Barry, she slowly began to fight her way
painfully up the hill to the ridge from which she had fallen. If she could get
to high ground maybe they would see her. Perhaps she could wave them down or
make a message with rocks. She only knew she had to try.
Back at the beach, Barry also was aware of
the plane overhead. Damn! He hadn't counted on them starting so soon. He had to
find a way to transport Susan and himself off this rock. He wasn't about to
lose her again.
Susan was an earth goddess. His
earth goddess. He was attracted and repelled at the same time. Her ripe, full
body harkened to a primitive element in him. His dreams of her had been more
intense here in the Caribbean. His brain was filled with lurid images of her
lushness that he couldn't dismiss even in the light of wakefulness. He caught
himself following her with his eyes and knew he had to keep his guard up lest
his plans go awry. The conflict within him soon twisted into a strange, sick
obsession. He knew he had to have her. He would have her. That's why he
had begun stalking her.
It came to a halt for a while after the
business with Benny and his inept attack on her. He saw the whole thing from
his safe hiding spot. What a laugh. The police grabbed the frightened little
man before he could do anything. And Barry had been strangely excited by
Susan's screams of fear and helplessness.
He was furious when she had gone to the
Caribbean, but even there the fates had smiled on him. His own wife had
suggested a holiday there to be near Susan and offer their support. Of course,
as a loving husband, he agreed. It was perfect. Until Steve. He hadn't counted
on another man wanting his woman. But that had changed now. He was in control
again. He had gotten Susan away from Steven and now he was in charge.
If Barry hadn't been so absorbed in his
memories, he might have heard the speed launch circling the island. Steve had
seen Barry though, through his binoculars. He had also seen the wreckage of the
sailboat and was horrified at what that would mean for Susan. Pain gripped his
heart. Was she alive? Was she somewhere on that island? Would they be able to
find her?
Marty found a shallow stretch of beach on
the far side of the island. Driving the boat up on shore, both men jumped out
and ran inland. Time was of the essence. The climb on this side of the island
was steeper and harder going. They had to move cautiously to avoid falling back
and getting injured. But step by step, hand over hand, they made their way
upward.
Susan, at the end of her strength and
nearing unconsciousness, finally reached the summit of her climb. She collapsed
face down, her sweat-soaked skin soothed by the coolness of the rocky ground.
Her breath was ragged, each gulp for air tearing at her lungs. And disturbingly
loud, she thought. Desperately she tried to quiet her breathing. She almost
giggled as she caught a mental picture of herself, the staid, conservative
schoolteacher, now tattered and torn and lying sprawled in a most undignified
manner on the ground on a tropical island. Her students would never believe it.
She prayed she'd live long enough to tell them about it. The thought that she
might die was a sobering one. Again she thought longingly of Steven. Not too
long ago she thought she would be growing old with him. If she did get out of
this alive, what would her future be now that she had glimpsed paradise? It was
too awful to think about.
Suddenly, Susan heard rustling in the
underbrush. Panic-struck. She was out in the open. Barry would catch her, no
problem. She couldn't have come this far to lose now! She was contemplating
throwing herself back down the ravine, when she heard the expletive.
"Oh my God! Susan!" Could she
have lost her mind? Was she really hearing Steven's voice and so full of
concern for her?
"Oh sweetheart!" Strong arms
turned her over, causing her to moan in pain. Oblivious to the discomfort he
was causing her, he pulled her against his chest, his face buried in her hair.
Rocking her back and forth, he sobbed her name over and over.
Susan's shoulder screamed in agony but she
didn't care. Her heart had swelled with joy at the love in his voice. But the
pain eventually burst through her bubble of happiness. She cried out as pain
radiated out from her shoulder and through her body. Her agonizing groan
penetrated Steven's anguish at finding her hurt.
"Are you hurt? Susan?
Sweetheart?" His voice quavered with emotion. Marty spoke softly, resting
his hand on his brother's shoulder in support.
"Steve. Her shoulder." Steve
blanched as he realized she had dislocated her collarbone. The two men
conferred about the best course of action. It had been years since either of
them had had any first aid training, but under the circumstances, they felt
they should probably pop the collarbone back in place. Susan would still be in
some pain but it wouldn't be as excruciating.
They proceeded to do just that. Marty
firmly held Susan to prevent her from wrenching away with the shock of their
manipulation of her injury. Thankfully she was too weak to offer much
resistance. Steve, his hands shaking, sweat dripping from his brow, took a deep
breath and pulled Susan's arm, while pressing her shoulder. Both men cringed at
Susan's almost inhuman outcry. There was a satisfying pop as the bone went back
into place. Blessedly, she didn't realize any of it. She had passed out.
Barry had heard the cry. There was no
mistaking Susan's voice. There was also no mistaking who was sitting beside her
still form as he crested the hill. He damned himself for missing their arrival.
Pulling his knife from its scabbard, he boldly advanced, too wrapped in his
righteous obsession to feel outnumbered.
Steven heard Barry break through the
shrubbery at the crest of the hill. Rage filled him as he stood in the rain
that had started again, to face the man responsible for Susan's pain. He
clenched his fists, prepared to thrash the bastard to within an inch of his
life. And he wasn't sure he'd stop there. He was beyond reason at the moment.
Marty's firm hand on his arm stopped him.
"He has a weapon, big brother,"
Marty cautioned. Looking at Barry's hands, Steven could see the knife.
"Why Barry? Why the hell are you
doing this? Susan's done nothing to you! She's your friend!" Steven said,
needing to gain time.
"Why?" Barry sneered.
"God, I knew you were stupid! It should be obvious. But I guess I've been
too clever for everyone, so I'll tell you. Susan is mine and mine alone. Don't
for a minute think that your being here will change that. I've come too far and
waited too long to turn back now."
"Yours?" Steve looked at Barry
with a puzzled frown. "What do you mean yours?"
Barry smirked, his attitude one of having to
deal with someone of limited mental capacity.
"Just what I said. I've known for a
long time that Susan and I were meant to be together. I tried to get her to
understand this a long time ago, but things didn't go as I had planned. So I've
had to wait. But obviously she felt the same, because she asked me to come down
here to be with her."
Steven stared at him, disbelief evident in
his expression. His eyes reflected his growing comprehension of what Barry was
revealing. This was quickly followed by heart-wrenching terror. Barry was
obviously quite mad.
"You were the stalker, weren't
you?" Steve asked as understanding filled his mind at last. "It
wasn't that caretaker, it was you."
"Of course! Benny, the stupid lout,
was just a lucky coincidence. He also saved me some embarrassing questions. He
was such a little loser. No one believed him when he kept saying he didn't do
it. Imagine my surprise when it came out that he had attacked other women
before. I couldn't have planned it better if I tried! He was the perfect
fall-guy." Barry seemed puffed with pride. "But I've waited long
enough. Now just how are we going to deal with you?"
"You know I can't let you hurt
Susan," Steve said with quiet menace. A flash of sheet lightning
emphasized the point.
"Hurt?" Barry seemed genuinely
confused. "I'm not hurting her."
"Of course you are, you animal,"
Marty yelled. "Just look at her."
"Marty!" Steven cautioned.
"Barry, you've been doing all those things around the house too, haven't
you? The plants, the tires?"
"I had to make Susan need me."
He smirked. "And it worked."
Barry looked at the still form of Susan
and smiled. It was then that both Steve and Marty realized the extent of
Barry's delusional state. He appeared to have gone over the edge.
"Beautiful, isn't she? Even for a big
woman." Barry continued to stare at the still quiet Susan as Marty began
to surreptitiously move around to his side. "I don't know how she did it,
but she bewitched me and I knew I had to make her my own. She knows it too.
She's just too proud to admit it. But I'll make her see. You watch."
"It's wrong, Barry. What about Gwen?
She's your wife. She's going to have your child. What happens to them?" Steve
said, trying to keep Barry occupied as Marty painstakingly moved into an
advantageous position.
Barry looked genuinely contrite. "I'm
sorry about that, but I can't help it now. Gwen's a strong woman. She'll be all
right .The baby will be a comfort to her. She'll understand I have to follow my
heart."
"Susan and I are going to be
married," Steve said. "She loves me."
"Not after what that bitch of an
ex-wife told her." Barry laughed. "She thinks you love Justine.
She'll come to me willingly now."
"Justine? What did Dierdre--"
Steve never got to finish his question. At that moment, the search plane flew
over, causing a startled Barry to look up. And as Susan moaned her way to
consciousness Barry bellowed in rage. With the knife raised menacingly above
his head, he charged at Steve and Marty, his feet slipping precariously in the
mud. Marty sprang, grabbing the wrist above the knife. Steven jumped between
Susan and Barry and with every ounce of fear and rage in his powerful body,
dealt Barry an upper cut to the jaw knocking the big man down.
Susan screamed. She had awakened to see
her beloved faced with Barry's menacing threat. It terrified her. In a flash,
Barry rolled and was back on his feet. Steven knelt to check on Susan as Marty
and Barry squared off against each other. Rain dripped from their flushed
faces. Their chests heaved with exertion. A demonic grin appeared on Barry's
face. Wiping mud and sweat from his face, he lunged, the knife dangerously
close to Marty's midriff. The agile Marty deftly jumped aside, but Barry
quickly recovered and slashed downward connecting with Marty's left bicep. A
grunt told him he had inflicted a wound. Quickly, Barry attempted another jab
but this time Marty was ready and delivered a blow that almost knocked the blade
from Barry's hand. His fury mounted. He began to lunge wildly without thought
or plan. He didn't see Steven stand and advance toward him from behind. Intent
on circling Marty, he didn't realize his peril until Steve's arm encircled his
neck and he was pulled back against the larger man.
With one last desperate move, Barry
twisted his body, bringing his knife around and burying it in Steven's side.
Stunned, Steven fell like a stone and Susan cried out her fear and outrage.
With supernatural strength, she dragged
herself over to Steven's inert form. Hearing his ragged breathing assured her
that at least he was still alive. She looked up slowly as Marty and Barry were
once again facing each other. A knot of icy fury formed in her belly giving her
strength enough to stand.
"Barry, you sick, demented
animal!" she screamed. "Just leave us alone!" Surprised, Barry
lost his focus. At that moment, a sharp karate chop to his wrist deprived him
of his weapon. With a bellow of rage, Marty put his entire body behind his fist.
There was a resounding crack as he connected with Barry's jaw. And Barry fell
like a stone and lay unconscious. The rain, as if conscious of the battle's
end, ceased.
Steven, who had revived to witness the
final blow, whistled his admiration. "Nice K.O. little brother! I didn't
know you had it in you!"
"It's amazing what you can do when
you're protecting the ones you love," Marty said, rubbing his bruised
fist.
"You're both wonderful," Susan
cried, as she knelt and gratefully wrapped her arms around Steven.
"By the way, Miss Shaw," he said
weakly. "Will you marry me?" All three laughed as she rained kisses
on his mud-streaked face.
It didn't take long for Marine Rescue to
find them once the plane had reported their position. Susan was pronounced
bruised and battered but in general, fine. A once-over at the hospital and some
TLC would see her back to normal soon enough. Steve promised both in full
measure. An examination of Steven's knife wound revealed he was very lucky
indeed. The blade had missed anything vital and the wound was clean. Some
stitching and several days bed-rest and he would be fine.
Barry was whisked away and soon found
himself behind bars awaiting decisions concerning his fate. It was almost
certain that he wouldn't be a free man any time soon.
It took about a week for the dust to
settle before Steven and Susan were finally able to get some time alone.
Justine flew hurriedly back upon learning
about Susan's near brush with death. She'd been hysterical with relief when she
realized that Susan was all right. The whole situation seemed to have a
cathartic effect on her. She and Susan had a long heart to heart talk where
Justine revealed her lifelong jealousy of Susan's brains and accomplishments. Susan
couldn't believe that her gorgeous successful model sister had actually envied
her! Justine also revealed that Steve had never really been the true target of
her affections. She revealed that she had always had a thing for Marty. They
had dated seriously for a while but had a lover's spat. Both had stubbornly
refused to give in and it looked as if they would never get past it. Justine
admitted to trying to rouse his jealously by pretending an interest in Steve.
It struck Susan as so funny that she began laughing and was hard-pressed to
stop. Could one group of people manage to screw things up any more thoroughly
than they had? Or almost had?
Steve finally got his little brother to
admit that he was still in love with Justine, and he and Susan conspired to
bring the two stubborn lovers together at last. The change in Justine was
astounding. Gone were the hard edges and sarcastic tongue. Susan marveled at
what happiness was doing for both of them. It was no surprise when Marty and
Justine announced their plans to marry. Ruthie beamed as laughter and love
filled the large house.
"It's about time you all settled
down," she proclaimed, a huge grin on her broad face. No one argued with
her.
It didn't take long for news of the
kidnapping and rescue to get around the small island community and then into
the world press. After all, Susan had been such recent big news and Justine was
a high profile model. Word came to them from one of Marty's jet set pals that
Dierdre had become infuriated at the news of Marty and Justine's engagement and
speculation that Susan's and Steven's would be next. She had apparently packed
and taken the next flight back to Europe. Susan couldn't have been happier at
that news.
The hardest part had been telling Gwen
about her husband. Gwen was inconsolable. When she found out about Barry, she
suffered a complete collapse and doctors were worried about the well being of
both mother and expected child for several tense days. But Susan knew what a
strong and resilient woman her dear friend was. She was sure that with time and
the proper support, Gwen would find her way back to happiness again. Over
Susan's protests, Gwen opted to return home, and to her family, who were
waiting to enfold her in their loving arms. Tears flowed copiously as the two
friends bid each other goodbye.
"I'm so sorry Susan," Gwen
sobbed. "How could I have been so wrong about Barry? You didn't deserve
any of this."
"Neither of us did, Gwen," Susan
said tenderly. "Barry is a sick man. Neither of us did anything wrong. We
were both his victims. I'll miss you, my friend. Will you be all right?"
"I'll miss you too." Gwen stood
back to peer up at her friend. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I
always am. You and Steve take good care of each other. And invite me to the
wedding."
"We haven't had a chance to talk
about it yet," Susan said, smiling.
"Don't worry," Gwen replied with
an answering smile. "It will happen."
True to Gwen's prediction, Steve and Susan
finally got the chance to be alone that evening. After a late candlelight
dinner they took a drive through the warm tropical night, ending up at the
lovely private beach. They walked hand in hand along the white sand, the nearly
full moon illuminating the way. The murmur of the water at their feet and the
sweet perfume of the wild flowers lent an added romance to the evening. They
stopped frequently to embrace and reassure each other they were safe and
together. At last Steve insisted they stop. He turned toward Susan and dropped
to one knee.
"Susan," he began, holding her
hands in both of his. "The last few weeks have made me realize that
everything's been different since you came into my life. It seems I've waited
my lifetime for you. You're beautiful, smart, loving and kind, the best of all
that's womanly. You light up my heart by just being near. I never thought I
could ever love as deeply as I love you. Please say you'll make me the happiest
of men. Marry me?"
Susan's smile radiated the joy she felt at
having this wonderful man's love. They'd been through so much together, had
come so far to find one another, and had almost lost each other. But now, their
time had come. The teacher and the teacher's pet. Susan chuckled softly,
thinking of Becca. That remarkable child would be a part of her life too.
Susan's satisfaction knew no bounds.
Gently pulling Steven to his feet, she
looked deeply into his bottomless gray eyes, seeing her future there, and said,
"Yes!"
Susan yawned and stretched, a cat-like
satisfaction on her face. Casting a glance at the other side of the bed, she
lovingly watched her husband as he perused the financial section of the Sunday
paper. It had become their habit to lounge in bed on Sunday mornings enjoying
the leisure time and each other. They returned the previous night after a long
business trip to Europe. Susan had accompanied Steven in order to revisit some
of the places they'd been to on their honeymoon. Both were glad to be home
again, especially now that Becca was home from school for the holidays.
Susan had drifted back to sleep after
their energetic early morning bout of lovemaking and, refreshed after her
little nap, was toying with the idea of initiating another romp. Seemingly
still intent on his paper, Steven grinned.
"That look can mean only one
thing," he teased.
"Why, whatever do you mean?" she
replied, batting her eyelashes in an exaggerated fashion.
Throwing his paper to the floor, he pulled
her into his arms and proceeded to kiss her with great thoroughness.
"Now, was that something like what
you had in mind?" he murmured nuzzling her neck, sending the most
delicious sensations to various parts of her body.
"I don't know about you," she
said saucily, "but I was just going to ask for a section of the
paper."
He pulled back in pseudo-shock. "Why
you..." And he proceeded to tickle her in punishment. A knock at the
bedroom door halted their love play and elicited a groan of frustration from
Steven.
"You'd think by now they'd know
better than to interrupt a Sunday morning!" Susan laughed as he rolled out
of bed and pulled a robe over his splendid nakedness. "And if you can stop
giggling long enough to get up, you'd better get yourself decent too."
Susan watched his appreciative look as he
took in her lush, bare form. Teasingly, she stretched her arms over her head
and struck a seductive pose.
"You are wicked," he growled, as
she once again burst out laughing. "Remind me to deal with you
later."
"Count on it!" she said
suggestively, getting out of bed and pulling on a nightshirt. With another
frustrated groan, Steve went to the door. Becca bounced in and jumped into her
father's arms, giving him a resounding kiss on the cheek.
"Morning, Daddy," she said
cheerfully. She leaped from his arms and into Susan's.
"Morning, Mom," she said, also
kissing her stepmother. Susan flushed with pleasure at the title. Becca had
insisted on calling her mother almost from the moment she and Steven had
said I do. She had to admit it felt quite natural.
"I brought you the mail," Becca
said, flopping herself on the bed and digging the envelopes out of her shorts
pocket. "There's one from Auntie Gwen. I thought you might want it since
you've been away so long."
"Oh yes, please," Susan said
with pleasure, taking the envelope and stretching out on the bed beside Becca.
She read the note, a smile breaking out on her face.
"What's she got to say?" Steven
asked as he tore open envelopes and sorted the mail.
"Well, she said she's doing well, but
a little tired. She says that's pretty normal. After all, if an old gal like
herself was crazy enough to have a baby at her age, she should be tired!"
Gwen had obviously regained her old sense of humor.
"How is our little
god-daughter?" Steve asked.
"Naomi's doing very well. Gwen sent a
recent photo." Looking at the photo, Susan was filled with joy. "Oh,
she's adorable!"
Becca took the photo and looked carefully.
"She looks just like Auntie
Gwen," she said. Steve took the photo from his daughter.
"You're right, Sweetie," he
said. "She does at that."
Susan continued reading the letter. "She
says the divorce papers came through with no trouble and that she's moving on
with her life with Naomi."
Steven came to sit on the bed and lovingly
stroked Susan's back.
"That's good to hear. It sounds as if
she's going to be all right after all."
Looking at her beloved, Susan smiled, a
tear threatening at the corner of her eye. Sometimes she felt overwhelmed by
her own happiness and good fortune.
"Does she say anything about that
little man, what's his name...Benny?" Steve asked.
"Yes," Susan said perusing the
letter. "Here it is. '...after much debate with the judge, it was
decided that Benny could not be held responsible for being duped by Barry. And
since you refused to press new charges against Benny, they agreed to let him
go. And it seems that further investigation of his previous activities has
shown that he was the victim of mistaken identity. The poor man has had more
bad luck than either of us, it seems.' She goes on to say that Highgate has
agreed to keep him on under supervision from local social services. I'm glad of
that," she said, folding the letter and putting it back in the
envelope."
"I am too," Steven agreed.
"Everyone deserves a second chance."
"What about her husband?" Becca
asked, her curiosity roused.
"Except him, that is," Susan said
bitterly. Shaking her head, she stroked Becca's hair. "Barry's not her
husband any more," Susan added, sitting up and pulling the girl onto her
lap. "He'll be in prison for a long, long time and won't be able to hurt
her or me or anyone else ever again."
"I'm glad," Becca said, giving
Susan a fierce hug.
"There was a postcard from Marty and
Justine as well," Steve said, handing it to his wife. "They're in
Tahiti at the moment but it sounds like they're coming home soon."
"Really?" Susan said excitedly, taking
a moment to read the card. Her screech brought a smile from Steve but startled
Becca.
"What Mom?" she asked, worried
that something was wrong. Then she saw the radiant grin on Susan's face.
"Justine's pregnant!" Susan
said. "That's why they're coming home!"
"Wow," Becca said. "Uncle
Marty's going to be a dad!"
"Who would have thought the day would
come," Steve said, sharing Susan's joy at the news. "He'll be a great
dad, though. And, as much as I would not have thought it possible, Justine will
be a fine mother."
"Yes," Susan said. "We'll
be able to help each other."
There was a pause as that statement sank
into Steven's mind. He stood, pulling Susan with him. Looking deeply into her
eyes, he assessed the look of intense love and contentment he found there.
"Susan?" he said, not daring to
believe it was possible.
"Yes, sweetheart?" Susan
responded, enjoying the dawning of joy on his face.
"We're...you and me...you're..."
He stepped back, still holding her arms, and looking her up and down as if
evidence of what he suspected would be there.
"Yes, sweetheart," she said
softly. "We're going to have a baby."
Steven pulled her into his arms, kissing
her with great love.
"ALL RIGHT!!!" In their
attention to each other, they had forgotten that Becca was in the room. Her
outburst reminded them and with laughter and tears, they pulled her into their
embrace. "I'm going to have a little brother or sister!" Becca
yelled, dancing in delight around the room. She stopped suddenly. "When,
Mom, when will it happen?"
Susan smiled at her darling daughter.
"Not for another six months, I'm afraid. Can you wait that long?"
"No way!" Becca and Steven said
simultaneously, and then they laughed.
Wanting to share her excitement and
suddenly aware that Steve and Susan might want to be alone, Becca ran off to
inform Ruth and anyone else she could possibly find.
Steve led his wife back to the bed where
they snuggled together, not needing to say a word to communicate their utter
delight in one another. Placing a hand on her stomach, he spoke.
"I didn't think it would be possible
to be happier than I was," he said, "but I am."
"I am too," Susan said, placing
her hand over Steve's. "Very soon, we'll be able to feel our baby in
there. It's such a miracle."
"Do you remember," Steve said
with a smile, "I called you a miracle once?"
"I remember," Susan said,
thoughts of those beginning days filling her heart. "I almost didn't tell
you today, though."
Sitting back, Steve looked at her in
bewilderment.
"Why?" he asked. "There's
nothing the matter is there?"
"No," she smiled in reassurance.
"I was just going to wait until our anniversary, since it's so close. It
was going to be your present."
Wrapping his arms possessively around her
and laying his head over her heart, he said, "I'm glad I know now. It
gives me that much longer to feel this good."
"I'm so glad you're happy,
sweetheart," Susan said, placing a tender kiss on the top of his head.
"It's all so perfect!"
"And so are you," Steve
continued. "Every day I feel happier than the day before, and right now, I
feel as if I might burst with happiness. Do you promise we will always be this
happy?"
Taking his face in her hands, she pressed
a tender kiss to his lips. She stroked his brow, his cheeks, and the line of
his jaw before responding.
"I promise. You see, you have
fulfilled all my dreams and more, my dear husband. And having our wonderful
Becca and now a new baby on the way makes my own happiness complete. We've
created our own fairytale and like in all fairytales, we will live happily ever
after," she said, once more kissing Steve.
Their kiss deepened, as Steven pulled
Susan into his arms. Their passions ignited and with sensuous abandon they
melded together, certain in their future together and filled with the promise
of the happiness yet to come.
The End
Canadian eAuthor Judy Bagshaw is a woman
with a mission and a unique vision. She has lived all her life as a large size
person in a thin-obsessed world. In her role as a full time elementary school
teacher for over two decades, she has personally witnessed the effect this thin
obsession has had on many of her young, impressionable students. She has also
recognized the need for people of size to see themselves represented in the
media as more than the butt of jokes, the villain, or the jolly sidekick. To
this end, Ms. Bagshaw's romance short stories and novels feature plus size
central characters living rich, involved lives, just as she has.
You can read excerpts of Ms.Bagshaw's
upcoming stories at her website, http://writerlady.homestead.com/homepage.html.Sign
her guest book or contact her at writestuff0@yahoo.com
.
Currently available are Ms. Bagshaw's
romance novel, LOVE BY THE POUND (http://www.wordbeams.com/pound.html),
a story of first love; two holiday themed short stories, 'Belle's Jingle' and
'Saint Nic' in MERRY MUSINGS: A HOLIDAY ANTHOLOGY (http://www.wordbeams.com/musings.html);
and you can find her short story, 'Chance Encounter,' featured in Wordbeams'
first romance anthology, LOVEY-DOVEY (http://www.wordbeams.com/lovey.html).
Ms. Bagshaw's second romance novel, TEACHER'S PET (http://www.wordbeams.com/teacher.html),
is a story of triumph over adversity. Both of Ms. Bagshaw's novels feature plus
size heroines.
And if you like to cook, you'd be wise to
check out her contribution to AND THEY CAN COOK TOO! IN THE KITCHEN WITH WORDBEAMS'
AUTHORS. http://www.wordbeams.com/cook.html