Dancer in the Shadows (11 page)

"I've always taken him to school myself," Valerie admitted sheepishly. "Shelly picked him up sometimes, but I always took him. It feels so strange to see him going off with someone else."

"He's a boy, my dear." Sara picked up the plates. "He'll start turning to his father more and more. It's natural."

"What was Sean like as a little boy?" Valerie asked impulsively.

Sara's face softened as she was taken back into the past.

"Stubborn," she chuckled. "Once he put his mind to doing something, nothing could stop him. Funny, after his mother died, he changed. He grew up suddenly. His father died when he was young and his uncle never knew what to do with kids, so Sean took more care of Janine than anyone. Then as he grew up he became quite a charmer with the girls. Of course, marriage changed that."

"Of course," Valerie said bitterly, turning away.

Driving slowly, Valerie was not too early for work. Seated at her desk, she busied herself sorting various papers to be filed. She was engrossed with her task when Craig walked in, carrying a briefcase.

"Can't wait to get started, can you?" He grinned. "Any messages?"

"Only from Mr. Benson." Valerie's eyes sparkled. At least it looked like Craig wasn't going to be difficult. "He wants to change his will again. He had another fight with his wife."

Craig grimaced at the news. "I had to work on a brief this weekend, so I've got a load of typing for you." His expression turned serious as he noted the faint circles under her eyes. "I know two days isn't long enough to tell, but how are things going so far?"

"Fine." She smiled brightly. "Michael can't get over not having to share a pool with a lot of other kids."

"But what about you?" Craig asked quietly, sitting on the edge of her desk. "Kids adapt pretty easily, but you're the one who counts with me."

"Craig, please don't be this way," she pleaded uneasily. "Sean is my husband, and I have to respect him as such."

"If he's your husband, he has a devil of a way of showing it," he said fiercely, grabbing her wrist. "Or has he learned how to juggle two women at once?"

"Stop it! Stop it, Craig!" Valerie jerked/her wrist away from him. "You have no right to speak to me that way."

"In some ways I have more of a right than he does." Craig stood up. "I've always been honest with you." He turned and walked into his office, saying over his shoulder, "And that's more than Sean has ever been."

Valerie rested her shaking hands on the desk, taking deep breaths to calm her jangling nerves.

Craig was a merciless taskmaster that day. He criticized every minute error in her work, insisting that it all be done over. He spent the day in his office grinding out so much work that she was obliged to stay in the office during her lunch hour. By the end of the day, she was ready to drop with exhaustion. She even found it an effort to drive to the preschool to pick up Michael.

At the house, Valerie sent Michael to his room to change his clothes, and she headed for the kitchen for a cold drink.

"Just the two of you for dinner," Sara told her, her sharp eyes noting the tired droop of Val's shoulders. "Sean called and said he'd be late. He wasn't sure when he'd be home. He had a business deal to finish up, he said."

Felicia, Valerie thought to herself bitterly. Some business deal.

"If it wouldn't be any trouble, I'm really too tired for anything except a salad," Val replied. "I'm just too tired to eat anything heavy."

"Why don't you relax in a nice warm tub?" the older woman suggested. "Do you a world of good. Here, take this with you." Sara handed her a filled wine glass. Her eyes twinkled as Valerie's eyes widened at the large amount. "This will probably relax you more than the bath will."

"I'm sure it will," she replied wryly, accepting the glass. "Or it'll knock me out, at least."

In the hot, scented water, Valerie could feel her tense muscles relax as she slowly sipped the rosé wine and her eyelids began to droop. It was an effort to rouse herself to step out of the tub and dry herself off before slipping on a caftan of bright green cotton.

Michael was quiet during their informal dinner and content to watch television until his bedtime. Then Valerie curled up on the couch, still feeling drowsy from the bath and the wine. She turned on the radio, selecting a classical music station. It wasn't long before her eyelids grew heavy and she soon fell asleep.

Sometime later she slowly awoke, focusing her eyes on the fuzzy figure standing over her. For a moment she was almost certain that his face was soft and tender as he gazed at her. But she must have been mistaken because his features were expressionless as she sat up, yawning deeply. "Wh—what time is it?" She stifled another yawn.

"Just past two," Sean replied abruptly. "Waiting up for me?"

"No, ironically, I fell asleep a little after eight," she snapped, struggling to her feet. "I've had a long day, not half as long as yours, though."

"And just what does that mean?" he demanded, walking toward her.

"Sean, I am still very tired," she said slowly, as if she had to think out each word. "I am going to bed. Good night." She could hear him muttering angrily behind her as she headed for her room. She fell asleep again before her head hit her pillow.

Her days became a pattern. She had been wrong about Craig. He had become cold and distant, a machine, grinding out work each day. Valerie came home bone-weary every night only to discover that Sean would not be home for dinner. Michael seemed disappointed that his father didn't spend much time at home, but he made no comment. The weekends were similar, with Sean rarely home. When he was, he spent his time with Michael and virtually ignored Valerie.

One morning she came into the dining room and found a white envelope on her plate with her name written across the front in familiar bold handwriting. Tearing it open, a plastic charge card fell out, along with a note stating:

I requested a card in your name for any purchase you feel necessary for yourself or Michael.

S.

She resisted the impulse to snap the card in half as she read the brief note. Glancing at the card, her mouth twisted bitterly as she read the name printed— Mrs. Sean M. Hunter.

"Someday I'll use this to bankrupt him, if nothing else." She picked the card up. It was obvious that Sean was making it clear that Valerie was his wife, even to the credit card company.

Chapter Six

One particularly hot morning, Valerie chose a light blue cotton dress cut on simple lines. For comfort, she had pinned her hair in a loose knot on top of her head, leaving tiny curls hanging on the sides and the nape of her neck. Since she was later than usual, she was surprised to see Sean at the table reading the newspaper. He was usually gone by the time she came to breakfast. He didn't look up or acknowledge her presence when she entered and poured herself a cup of coffee. Irked by his indifference, she sat down slowly, pouring cream into her coffee.

"Let's get one thing straight," Sean said suddenly, putting his paper down on the table. "Sara is not a servant here; she is not yours to command at your whim."

HO

"I don't command anyone!" Valerie retorted heatedly. "I don't even know what you're talking about."

"What I'm talking about is Sara driving Michael to school."

"I didn't ask Sara to drive him to school," she said slowly, trying to keep a tight rein on her rapidly rising temper. "In fact, she volunteered since she wanted to be in town early today. Of course, I don't expect you to believe me, so you can just ask Sara this evening if you decide to come home at a decent hour. Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll go to work. The atmosphere there is much less confining."

As she left the room, Sean rose to his feet as if to call her back, but then seemed to change his mind and sat back in his chair, a thunderous look on his face.

As soon as she was out of Sean's sight, Valerie ran to her room for her purse and car keys before fleeing the house. She muttered angrily to herself as she went outside and started up her car, revving the engine more than necessary before roaring down the driveway to the private road leading to the main highway. The wind whipped through her hair as she sped down the road toward town. Her anger hadn't cooled by the time she reached the office, slamming file drawers and thrown papers were evidence of her still-flaming temper.

"Hey, that could give someone the impression that you're angry about something," Craig commented, walking into the office.

"He has a lot of nerve accusing me of taking advantage of other people!" she snapped, throwing a manila folder on her desk. "If he keeps up those tactics, he'll be sorry!"

Craig's eyes darkened to a stormy blue. He gripped her upper arms, pulling her to face him. "Leave him, Val," he said fiercely. "I still want you. You'll never be happy with Sean; I can give you much more."

Except the love I want, Valerie thought to herself sadly.

"There's no reason on earth for you to stay with him," he went on.

"Yes, there is," she sighed. "Please, Craig, I've told you I don't want to discuss it."

His expression was sullen as he released her arms. "You'll always regret this, Val," he said harshly. "I want to give you the world, yet you persist in staying where you're not wanted or loved. You're a fool."

"Then I guess I'll just have to be a fool." She smiled bleakly.

"I just hate to see you this way," he replied. "He has Felicia, and she's all he wants."

Valerie's heart contracted at Craig's statement, knowing it was true. "I still have Michael," she said quietly, sitting down at her typewriter. "And right now, he's all that counts."

Valerie had made plans to meet Shelly for lunch that day, and her attempts to act light-hearted were to no avail. Her obvious lack of appetite had not gone unnoticed by her friend. "Something's wrong, Val, and I think it has to do with Sean," Shelly said bluntly.

"It could be Michael who's bothering me," she said evasively, pushing her salad around on her plate.

"If it were Michael, you wouldn't hesitate to talk about it. So it has to be Sean," she stated logically, then leaned forward, her eyes full of concern for her friend. "Val, I'm not trying to be nosy—please understand that. I only want to help."

The words slowly came out as Valerie briefly sketched her morning argument with Sean. "He didn't even stop to consider that I wouldn't have dreamed of asking Sara to take Michael to school," she sighed. "He just refused to listen to anything I tried to say."

"And, naturally, you immediately lost your temper, lashing out at him instead of trying to calmly explain things. Am I right?"

Valerie nodded.

"Look, I'd love to sit here and have a long chat, but I have a class at two," Shelly said, reaching for her purse.

"My treat." Valerie smiled, throwing a plastic charge card onto the table. "After all, Sean gave it to me for my own use, so why not use it?"

As they left the restaurant, Valerie's eyes were drawn to a tall figure across the street. Her heart sank as she recognized Sean, standing in front of an expensive boutique with a wrapped box under one arm. His head was bent close to a familiar -dark-haired one, as if in intimate conversation. Felicia's hand rested possessively on his arm. Val glanced quickly at Shelly to see if she had also noticed the couple, but she was engrossed in finding her sunglasses in her purse. "Just try to keep your temper tonight," she advised, putting her sunglasses on to shade her eyes from the midday glare.

"Oh, yes, I will," Val replied softly, green eyes on the couple across the street.

Valerie's steps faltered as she walked toward her car. She collapsed in the driver's seat, resting her head against the steering wheel. Her eyes were tightly closed against the tears that threatened to fall. Although she knew that Sean was spending his evenings with Felicia, this was the first time she had seen them together since that day at the house.

When she regained her composure she started the engine, putting the car in gear. She was halfway to her office when pictures of Sean and Felicia together passed before her eyes. Fighting sudden waves of nausea, she stopped the car near a phone booth. Taking deep breaths, she unsteadily dialed a number.

"Craig? I'm sorry, but I can't come back to the office." Her voice quavered slightly.

"Val, what's wrong?" he demanded.

"I just can't come back." She felt on the verge of hysteria. "I'll be in tomorrow. Good-bye, Craig." She replaced the receiver in the cradle, cutting off his protests.

Her hands were trembling as she restarted the car and pulled out of the parking lot. Driving through the main streets, she wiped the tears away with the back of her hand.

Caught up in her problems, her reflexes were not as quick as usual. Her tear-filled eyes widened in horror as a large truck in front of her skidded and jackknifed onto its side, spilling its contents onto the road.

"Oh, no!" she gasped, rapidly turning the steering wheel to avoid having a collision. But the tires spun, and the car skidded off the side of the road toward a telephone pole looming large in her path. As the car hit the pole, she could hear a voice screaming Sean's name and was vaguely surprised to realize that it was hers.

Valerie could feel the mist leaving her brain as the pain came to take its place. She moaned softly as she forced her heavy eyelids open to take in white antiseptic surroundings and a hazy figure in white in front of her.

"Valerie." The low voice persisted in chasing away the cobwebs in her brain.

Her eyes slowly focused, revealing a gray-haired man in his late fifties bending over her. "Dr. Taylor?" she murmured, moving her head slowly, then wincing from the pain shooting through her head. "Wha-what happened?"

"A telephone pole ran in front of your car." His concerned expression changed to a smile of relief. "I'm just glad you decided to wake up from your nap. Now, tell me how many fingers I'm holding up." He showed her his three middle fingers.

She squinted her eyes. "Three," she whispered. "What's wrong with me?"

"You have a concussion and a variety of cuts and bruises," the doctor replied, his hands gentle and sure as he injected something into her arm. "This is for the pain. You just rest now. Your husband is outside wearing a hole in the carpet. I'll send him in after I've spoken to him."