Good Intentions (18 page)

He pulled away. “You look great,” he said, appraising himself again in the mirror. “I think I’ll change my shirt.”

“Now? Philip, we’re already running late.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I’m not saying it’s anybody’s fault. It’s just that we’re already half an hour late, and the shirt you’re wearing looks great.”

“It’s the wrong shirt for this suit, but fine, if it’s going to create problems for you to be a few minutes late, I’ll wear it. At least one of us will look good.”

“You look terrific,” Renee told him, her voice a gentle plea. How could he think he looked otherwise?

“Whatever you say.”

“No, no,” Renee said, giving in. “You have to feel comfortable. If you’re not comfortable …”

“It’s the wrong shirt,” he explained, an endearing half-grin on his face.

“Which shirt do you think will be better?”

“I don’t know,” he said, moving to the closet. “What do you think?” He returned to the side of the bed with two blue-striped shirts. “I think the stripe is more interesting than the plain,” he said, referring to the shirt he had on. “Which one do you like better?”

“They both look the same.”

“God, Renee, you’re so unobservant. This one has a much wider stripe.”

Renee looked harder but still couldn’t see the difference. “The one in your right hand,” she said finally.

“Really? I prefer the one in the left.”

“That’s fine.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.”

“I’m sorry, Philip. Really, it just doesn’t matter to me.”

“That’s obvious. Now, if it concerned what you were wearing, that would be different.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh, so now I’m being ridiculous. What other names are you going to call me?”

“I’m not calling you any names.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I could have sworn you called me ridiculous.”

“This whole conversation is ridiculous,” Renee said flatly. “Look, let’s not argue. I’m sorry for what I said and I’m sorry if I sounded disinterested about what shirt you should wear.” She checked her watch. “I guess I’m just a little nervous.”

Philip’s voice became soft, concerned.

“Why, for heaven’s sake?”

“I guess because we’re already late, and these are my partners. I don’t know. I can’t help it.”

“Yes, you can. You decide whether or not you want to be nervous.”

It was at times like this that Renee wished she had married a plumber and not a psychiatrist. Did he always have to be so damned analytical? Did he always have to be pointing out that she had a choice in most matters and that she usually opted for the wrong one?

“Renee,” he was saying, a hint of impatience in the way he said her name, as if it were a burden of great weight, “you have to decide what’s important to you.”

“You’re important to me.”

“Not as important as being on time for dinner.”

Renee said nothing. How many times could they cover the same ground? She watched him return both shirts to the closet. “Aren’t you going to change?”

“It’s not worth it. Your partners are so boring, I doubt they’ll notice what I’m wearing anyway.”

“I don’t think they’re boring.”

“They’re lawyers,” Philip said, as if the word was all the explanation necessary. “Is Debbie home yet?”

“She and Kathryn went to the beach this afternoon.”

“It’s after eight o’clock,” Philip said. “They wouldn’t still be at the beach now.”

“They said they might go to a movie and for a bite to eat.”

“Christ,” Philip muttered, shaking his head.

“What? What is it?”

He continued shaking his head. “Well, you really don’t give a shit, do you? Debbie is sixteen years old. Your sister is seriously depressed. They’ve disappeared, and all you care about is getting to your stupid dinner party on time.”

“That’s not fair, and it’s not true,” Renee said, hearing her voice rise and struggling to steady it. “They haven’t disappeared. They went to the beach and probably to dinner and a movie afterward. Kathryn has been feeling much better lately and Debbie is quite capable of taking care of herself. I’m not worried because there’s nothing to be worried about. Philip, what’s going on here?” She closed her eyes, wishing his hands were back on her breasts, that he would surround her with his large arms and tell her he was sorry, that he was acting like an idiot, that he loved her more than anything in the world, and let’s get out of here now before it gets any later. Instead he stayed where he was, on the other side of the room, clearly angry with the conversation, and with her. What was wrong with her? Why did she always rise to the bait? Why couldn’t she just go along with him occasionally? Why did everything have to be such a big deal?

“You tell me,” he said, his voice cold.

“I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been so distant lately,” he said, sounding very much like a small child.

“What?”

“I don’t even think you’ve realized how distant you’ve become. I’m not trying to blame you, Renee. I understand how busy you are at work, how preoccupied you are. And I know you’ve always been busy, but you used to be able to handle it better. You used to have time for me. But think about it. You’re always working. In the last couple of months, we haven’t had much time to be together, and I guess I miss it, that’s all.”

“I’m not always working,” Renee whispered, hearing her voice trail off and disappear, caught off guard by his words.

“What time did you get home last night?” he asked.

“Around seven.”

“And the night before?”

“I’m not sure. Probably the same.”

“Try closer to seven-thirty.”

“I was home early the day before that.”

“Congratulations.”

“Philip, what is this? You’ve never complained about my working late before.”

“What good would it have done?”

“Well, I …”

“Would it have made any difference?”

“If I’d known you were unhappy …”

“I didn’t say I was unhappy.”

“I don’t understand. What are we arguing about?”

“I was merely pointing out why we haven’t been
spending much time together recently. You’re too busy with your work. And if it’s not work, it’s work-related, like tonight.”

Renee looked helplessly around the room. “I’m sorry,” she stammered, and she was, though she wasn’t sure why. “I didn’t realize … I guess it’s hard to find time between both our busy schedules and my sister being here, and Debbie …”

“So it’s Debbie’s fault we haven’t had any time together?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“You don’t spend two minutes with Debbie. The kid comes to visit for two months, and you’re too busy with your damn practice to spend two minutes with her.”

“That’s not fair, Philip. I’ve tried with Debbie. You know I’ve tried. She doesn’t want to be with me.”

“If you really wanted to win Debbie over, Renee, you would. You’re a good lawyer. You know how to win.”

“Wait a minute. How did we get onto Debbie?” Renee asked in frustration. “Why are we talking about this?”

Philip paced angrily back and forth in front of the bedroom door. “Oh, I see. We only talk about what you want to talk about. Is that it?”

“No, of course not. Nobody said …”

“What is
it you
want to talk about, Renee? The weather? Politics? My practice?
Your
practice? All of the above? None of the above. You want to ask me about my lunch with Alicia Henderson, isn’t that it, Renee? Isn’t that what all this is about?”

Renee tried to form the words to protest. It was true she had been thinking about the woman earlier but … Did he know her so well?

“You’re nervous about tonight, and you’re worried about your sister, and so you have to take it out on someone, and Debbie’s not here to pick on, so it might as well be me. Go on, Renee, fire away. It’s been eating you up for days, so you might as well spit it out.”

Renee stared at her bloated image in the mirror across from their bed, holding her breath to try to keep the budding tears at bay. She didn’t want to cry. Philip hated it when she cried. Besides, if she cried, her eyelids would puff up, make her look more bloated than she already was. Did she really have to ask herself why he turned to other women? Couldn’t she see the answer staring her in the face?

“I was wondering how long it would take until you found some excuse to mention that lunch,” he was saying. “I actually had hopes that maybe you’d grown up enough not to bother bringing it up at all.”

Renee wanted to stop him, to remind him that, in fact, she hadn’t been the one to mention his lunch with Alicia Henderson, that she never would have been the one to bring it up, that he was the one who had brought this woman into the conversation, into their lives. But she said nothing because, after all, what difference did it make who had been the first to say her name out loud? The woman had been in her thoughts, and Philip had seen her there. There was no point in denying his accusations when they were true in essence. He could read her mind. He had once told her that and looked surprised, even indignant, when she had laughed.

“Go on, Renee. Say what you have to say. Do your damage.”

“That’s not fair, Philip.” Renee groaned under the weight of his accusations, feeling like a child. That’s not fair, Daddy, that’s not fair.

“No, what’s not fair is what you’re about to say.”

“I don’t want to say anything.”

“Who are you kidding? You have to say it. You’ll burst a blood vessel if you don’t. You can’t withdraw now. It’s time to escalate. That’s a favorite lawyer’s trick, isn’t it? Let’s see what kind of real damage you can do here. Let’s see how you can turn a perfectly innocent little lunch into something I should feel guilty for.”

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty.”

“No? What are you trying to do?”

“Nothing,” Renee yelled.

“Please don’t raise your voice to me again,” he said calmly. “I won’t stand here and be yelled at.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose my temper.”

“I get enough pressure at the office, Renee. I don’t need this kind of hysterics at home.”

Renee felt a wave of nausea sweep across her body. She felt suddenly exhausted. “I don’t want to argue.”

“So you’ve said. Why do you suppose, then, that’s what we’re doing?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just drop the whole thing.”

“No, let’s finish what you started. What is it you want from me, Renee? You want details of my romance with Alicia Henderson? Fine, I’ll give you details.”

“I don’t want details.”

“Alicia Henderson and I have been carrying on a mad, passionate affair every lunch hour now for several months. We do it everywhere we can, the more public the place, the better we like it. The Troubadour is one of our
favorite spots, as a matter of fact. We do it between courses, under the table, on the table, in the washroom …”

“Philip …”

“More details? Well, let’s see. Some days we don’t even bother with lunch. I eat her instead. Are these details steamy enough for you, Renee? Or too much like the kind of stuff you hear every day?”

“I don’t want details,” Renee cried out bitterly. “I want denials!” She felt her eyes well over with the tears she had thus far managed to hold back, knowing she would streak her makeup and that she would have to redo the whole damn thing after she’d taken so long with it the first time, gotten it almost perfect. She backed up until she felt the baseboard of the bed hit the back of her knees, and she sat down, letting her head fall forward, feeling the cold metal of her necklace tightening across her throat. She stared into her lap, catching the tears with the back of her hand before they could stain the silk of her new clothes, and didn’t look up until she felt Philip standing directly in front of her, his knees touching hers.

“Hey,” he was saying, his voice suddenly gentle, “denials are easy.” He bent forward and kissed her gently on the forehead, his anger gone, as if it had never existed, as if it were something she had only imagined. “There was nothing to it, Renee. I swear it,” he said, kissing her closed eyes. “I’m not sleeping with Ali Henderson. I have no desire to sleep with her. And the only thing I ate that day,” he continued, as she felt his boyish smile grow wide against her skin, “was lunch.” His lips skipped lightly down her face. Renee immediately lifted her mouth to his, her arms reaching up to wrap themselves around his neck, her body responding to him the way it always did.

Everything would be all right now. He had forgiven her. He was tender again and caring, the way he used to be, the way he had been in the beginning, when their relationship was new, before she had allowed herself to be consumed by petty jealousies and her own insecurities. Before she had allowed her weight to balloon and her work load to overtake so much of her life. No wonder he was resentful and defensive. She hadn’t realized how strongly he objected to her late hours, how willfully she was neglecting his daughter. She’d make it up to him.

She felt him fussing with the zipper on his pants, felt his lips moving away from hers and his hands pushing her head gently forward. In the next instant, he was in her mouth and his hands were clutching at the sides of her hair, manipulating her head back and forth in slow, deliberate strokes. He grew quickly inside her mouth as he determinedly and repeatedly thrust himself inside her, guiding her hands between his legs, showing her exactly what he wanted her to do.

She thought of Debbie, pictured the girl suddenly barging in on them, then quickly dismissed the unwanted image. Her jaw was starting to ache with the strain of her prolonged ministrations. Good, she thought. It was what she deserved for the scene she had caused. If she wasn’t careful, she would drive him away, as his first wife, Wendy, had done with her jealous accusations. How many times had he told her that Wendy’s insecurities had driven a permanent wedge between them? That awful story of Wendy, naked, chasing his car down the street as he drove off into the night! Is that what she wanted for her own marriage? To send him driving off into the night into the arms of someone like Alicia
Henderson? Alicia-call-me-Ali, she thought then. He had called her Ali.

His hands at the sides of her head grew more insistent, commanding her silently to pick up her pace, that he was almost ready. Renee closed her eyes tightly as his body shuddered to a climax, his hands immediately relaxing, loosening their grip on her hair. Renee swallowed quickly as he pulled away. “Get me a tissue,” he said, his voice hoarse, and Renee moved to the box of tissues by the side of the bed. “Go rinse your mouth,” he said, taking the tissue from her hand, turning away from her quickly.