Strange Bedpersons (19 page)

“You do not hate it from behind,” Nick said sleepily. “They heard you come in Kentucky.”

“This is scary,” Tess said. “I can’t say no to you.”

“Tell me about it,” Nick said. “I got laid on a piano.”

“I’m serious,” Tess insisted. “This was supposed to be just two really good friends sharing a good time and great sex, and now I can’t leave you.”

Nick kissed a curl back from her forehead. “It was always more than that,” he said. “You know it was always more than that.”

“I really love you,” Tess said, and his arms tightened around her and she shivered against him, grateful for his warmth.

“I love you, too,” Nick said. “I think we should get married.” She tensed in his arms, and he kissed her again until she relaxed. “Why not get married?” he whispered. “It’s what we’ve got now.”

“I’m not sure what we’ve got now.” Tess shifted away a little. “I love you, I really love you, but living this way...I don’t know. It’s not me. I don’t know.”

“It’s all right.” He pulled her closer. “Just think about getting married. We can talk in the morning.”

She could feel his body relax as he drifted into sleep, feel the weight of his hand resting comfortingly on her hip, but it was almost dawn before she fell asleep, too.

Tess followed him down to breakfast the next morning, groggy from lack of sleep as he zipped around the kitchen, fixing himself toast and coffee and barking orders at her.

“Pick me up at the office at six,” he told her, spreading jam on his toast. “I’ve got a late meeting, so catch a cab there instead of waiting at home for me.”

“All right,” Tess said tiredly. “Who are we wining and dining tonight?”

“The Pattersons and Norbert Welch,” Nick said, and when Tess groaned he added, “Don’t say anything about the papers at dinner. I’ll suggest after-dinner drinks and then if Park agrees, we can talk to him. But no accusations, understand?” He pointed his toast at her to make his point before biting into it. “I want this contract, and we’re about to get it. Don’t screw it up.”

“I know, I know, you’ll make partner,” Tess said, grumpy because she was so tired. “What I don’t get is what difference can partner make? I mean, every single person we’ve been sucking up to for the past three weeks is crazy about you already. I don’t see what partner is going to get you when Riverbend already thinks you’re God in a three-piece suit.”

Nick stopped for a moment, as if he was going to answer her, but instead he said, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” Tess leaned her head on one hand and yawned. “Give me one good reason why you need this.”

“Okay.” Nick hesitated again. “When I was eighteen,” he said finally, “I was accepted at Yale. My dad was really proud. He’d put aside a college fund for me, but it wouldn’t even get me a year at Yale. But he said no problem, he’d work extra overtime at the plant, and if he had to, he could tap into his pension, and with my partial scholarship we’d be all right.”

“Sounds like a great guy,” Tess said, waking up a little at the serious tone in Nick’s voice.

“Then right before Christmas that year, my senior year, he got laid off. And because of the way things were run at the plant, he lost his pension. Then, three months later, still out of work, he lost control of the car and he and my mom died.” Nick’s voice had gone flat, and he finished his story with absolutely no expression. “He left nothing. Twenty-three years with the plant and he had nothing at the end. I still made it through. I’m okay. It’s no big deal.” He set his jaw and looked grimmer than Tess had ever seen him. “But all that work, a lifetime of work, and then he had nothing. It killed him.” He met her eyes. “That’s when I decided I was never going to work for anybody else. If I’m partner, I don’t work for anybody else.”

“Oh,” Tess said.

Nick shook his head. “It’s no big deal.”

“Right,” Tess said.

“Your toast popped. It’s getting cold.”

“I’m sorry,” Tess said.

“No problem. Just put in a couple more slices.”

“Not about the toast. About your parents.”

“It happened twenty years ago, Tess,” Nick said. “It’s done.” He got up to leave. “Don’t go getting all weepy over it. I just want that security. For both of us. And for our kids. I don’t want them ending up with nothing. So I am going to make partner, and nothing is going to get in my way.”

“Kids?” Tess said. But he just kissed her goodbye, his lips lingering on hers a little longer than usual. She buried her head in his shoulder and clutched at his suit coat. “I love you,” she whispered, and he said, “I know. I love you, too. Go back to bed. You’re wiped out.”

She sat at the table for a long while after he left, thinking about Nick and Nick’s dad and the partnership that now was an understandable need. She ached for the Nick-at-eighteen who’d had his whole world ripped out from under him, but she ached more for the Nick-at-thirty-eight who was missing his life while he made sure the world would never get ripped out from under him again. And she suddenly realized that it wasn’t just that he loved her, but that he needed her. She was his only hope for a real life, a life he could start having once he got that damn partnership. Once he got the partnership, he’d relax, and they’d be all right. He’d feel secure and he’d stop trying to impress people and he’d stop trying to change her. She could get rid of those damn clothes, Jekyll would disappear, and they’d be all right.

For the first time, Tess thought about marrying Nick without cringing. They were so right together.

The only thing that kept them apart was his quest for success, and once that was satisfied...
marriage,
she thought, and pictured them together in this house. If they were married, she could insist on some color. Then she could come home from her jobs at Decker and the Foundation to a bright house and Nick and...their kids.

Kids. A boy and a girl because Nick liked symmetry. No redheads. Two neat little brunettes, like Nick. She’d have to keep them away from the pool— unless they took swimming lessons at the country club. Of course they’d take swimming lessons at the country club. They were Nick’s kids. And the suede couches would definitely have to go—unless she raised them to be incredibly tidy, like Nick. And incredibly well behaved, like Nick. And of course, they’d have to go to the right schools and wear the right clothes and probably play the Moby Dick game, and as Tess visualized them in school uniforms, she suddenly didn’t like them much.

Boring little twits,
she thought. And then she thought,
Stop it.
It wouldn’t be like that. Nick would change once he got the partnership.

Maybe.

It was too much to think about and she’d been thinking all night, anyway, so she went back upstairs and fell asleep and dreamed of dark-haired children who kept looking at her with contempt and saying, “Oh,
mother,”
and Nick coming home and announcing he was running for president so she’d have to get new clothes. She didn’t wake up again until three, when Gina called her, hysterical, because she’d just read in the paper about Park’s engagement.

“How could he be engaged?” Gina said through her tears when Tess reached her apartment. “He’s been with me every night. How could he have gotten engaged to somebody else?”

“Oh, Gina,” Tess said, sinking onto Gina’s moth-eaten couch and pulling her friend down with her. “Listen, honey, Park just...” She tried to think of a good way to put it, but the truth was that Park had been two-timing Gina all along and Tess hadn’t done anything about it. “Park’s a jerk,” she finished. “So am I. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Gina pulled away. “You
knew
?”

“Nick told me not to get involved,” Tess said miserably. “And I thought it might work out. You were so happy and... Oh, hell, I screwed up. I’m sorry. If you never forgive me, I understand.”

“How long has he been seeing her?” Gina’s eyes blazed at Tess. “How long?”

“I don’t know,” Tess said. “From the way his father talked, they’ve known each other since birth.”

“He knew her before me?” Gina said. “So what was I? A fling? He knew all along that...” She stopped and swallowed. “And he didn’t even tell me. He let me read
it in the paper. Did he think I wouldn’t
care?”

“I don’t know,” Tess said. “I don’t know what either one of them thinks. Sometimes I think they don’t see us at all. They just see what they want to. Maybe Park thinks you’re only looking for a good time. Maybe Nick thinks I enjoy being the new Nancy Reagan. I don’t know. I just want to kill both of them right now.”

Gina slumped back against the couch and picked up a pillow. It was a
Cats
T-shirt, plump with stuffing and sewn shut at the neck, sleeves and hem, and it looked oddly like a dismembered corpse as she hugged it.
That’s what Park’s going to look like when I get through with him,
Tess vowed, and then she concentrated on Gina. “Are you all right? Talk to me. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Gina said into the neck of her stuffed T-shirt. “I don’t know. I love him.”

Tess felt her whole body grow cold. “You are not going to see him again. Tell me you’re not going to see him again. You wouldn’t.”

Gina’s lower lip trembled. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Tess stopped and tried to keep from shrieking. “He’s getting married. What are you going to do? Be his understanding mistress? I know you’re heavily into adapting your life to suit Park, but don’t you think that’s a little much?”

“Stop it, Tess,” Gina said tiredly. “No, of course I’m not going to be his mistress. I just have to think about this. I’ll have to give back all the stuff he gave me, and then...I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to see him.”

“I guess you don’t,” Tess said. “My God, I guess you don’t.”

“Do you suppose Nick would pick the stuff up after I’ve packed it?” Gina asked. “Would he give it to him?”

“Of course he would,” Tess said. “Whether he wants to or not. You don’t ever have to see that rat again.”

“He’s not really a rat,” Gina said. Then she sniffed. “Well, maybe he is.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Tess said, standing up. “I’m going to go get us ice cream and mashed potatoes and gravy and enough chocolate to coat Riverbend, and when we’re done sedating ourselves with food, I’m going to tear that bastard apart with my bare hands.”

“No, you’re not,” Gina said, her voice exhausted. “Just let him be. It’s not your problem. It’s my fault. I should have known better. What did I think he was doing with somebody like me, anyway?” She looked up at Tess. “I really thought he loved me. I really did. Isn’t that dumb? No wonder I never graduated from high school. No brains.”

Tess sat down again and wrapped her arms around Gina, holding her tight. “Stop it,” she said. “Just stop it. This is his fault, not yours.”

Gina buried her head in Tess’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, her voice muffled. Then she pulled her head back and looked at Tess. “It’s okay. I told you. It’s not your problem.”

Tess swallowed the lump in her throat that formed every time she looked at Gina’s tear-ravaged face. It might not be her problem, but it was going to be her pleasure when she found Park, the son of a bitch. “What kind of Haagen-Dazs do you want?” she said, and went to work dragging Gina back to mental health.

Two hours later, Tess stormed into the outer reception area of Patterson and Patterson looking for blood. Park’s blood. Splattered all over the walls if possible. Just the thought of Gina’s devastated expression made her shake all over again. She was going to find Park, and when she did, the next notice the paper ran about him would be his obituary.

“Excuse me, miss, but—”

Tess ignored the receptionist and stomped through the doors into the law offices themselves.

Several startled secretaries looked up, and one, a medium-size guy with glasses, actually tried to head her off, but when Park emerged unknowing from his office, she bore down on him with a murderous single-mindedness that quelled everything in her path.

She grabbed Park’s lapel as he spoke to his secretary and pulled him around, his startled face only inches from hers. “I want to see you
now,
you rotten bastard,” she hissed. “You want this in public or in private?”

“I, uh, have a client in my office...” Park began, babbling in shock.

“Here.” A calm brunette in her thirties opened an office door across the way. “Use Nick’s office.”

“I don’t think so, Christine—” Park said, but Tess said, “Great,” and when Park said, “Really, I can’t—” she grabbed his tie and yanked him across the floor into the office, slamming the door behind them.

“You rotten, lousy, lying scum of a cheating creep,” Tess spat at him, backing him up against the wall. “You had to hurt her, didn’t you? It was too much trouble to break it off, too tough for you to tell her you couldn’t see her anymore, so you just let it go on and on and on and then you let her find out from a damn
newspaper
article!”

“What are you talking about?” Park asked.

That stopped her. Park looked terrified, but he also looked clueless. There was no guilt on his face at all. God, he was dumb. He didn’t even realize what he’d done to Gina with that announcement. “Gina,” she spat at him. “I’m talking about what you did to Gina.”