Channel: Private Pleasures Part 12

"Holy c.r.a.p!" Carla breathed. "You don't own anything like this."

"Nora Buckley, this reality, doesn't. But Nora Buckley of The Channel does, and I was wearing them last night when I woke up."

"Pretty snazzy." Carla grinned. "Just what is your fantasy?"

"Penthouse apartment, Mr. Gorgeous, and a ma.s.seur named Rolf," Nora replied with a half smile.

"What's Mr. Gorgeous's name?" Carla pried.

"Kyle," Nora told her.

"And he likes you in green lace garter belts," Carla said.

"It matched my wrap dress," Nora said. "I could hardly visit Mr. Nicholas unless I was properly dressed."

"Boy, two guys don't satisfy you, and you got three? You're almost as bad as I am," Carla chuckled. "Every time I recruit a new crew, I screw 'em all before we set sail."

"Mr. Nicholas is the administrator of The Channel," Nora told her friend. "I wanted to meet him because there were things I needed to know, questions that only he could answer. I could hardly go to his office looking like a tart in my blue silk shorty robe," Nora said.

"There's someone who actually runs The Channel?" Carla asked, sounding surprised. "And you met him? And he has an office? What's he like?"

"Sure, someone runs it, and yes, I met him, and his office is out of Architectural Digest, old-money edition, and he . . ." She stopped for a moment. "He's nothing like I thought he would be. I was thinking Louis Jourdan, or Ricardo Montalban. In fact on reflection he reminds me of that nineteen-forties-movie character actor, Claude Rains. He has two secretaries and an a.s.sistant named Margaret, and we had tea before a fireplace, with chocolate biscotti."

"No way!" Carla exclaimed.

"Way!" Nora said, laughing. "It was almost bizarre except it was so d.a.m.ned civilized. The tea was that really good gunpowder green, and the biscotti were heaven."

"What did you want to know from him?" Carla said, curious.

"I'll tell you that another time. Just tell me, babe, did you ever come home with a souvenir from The Channel?"

"Other than a hickey?" Carla replied with a grin. "Nah. And I know none of the others have either. They'd freak if they did, and tell. And I'm not certain this isn't creeping me out, Nora."

"It's creeping me out a little too," Nora admitted. "It's like one of those too-good-to-be-true scenarios you read about."

"Hey, we get charged for it on our cable bills," Carla said. "So did this Mr. Nicholas answer all of your questions?"

"I suppose he did, but in a very roundabout way," Nora responded.

"You going to keep going to The Channel?" Carla's dark eyes were curious.

"It's like potato chips," Nora said. "You just can't eat one. Yeah, it helps me not to collapse with fear over this whole situation, especially now that I've met my replacement. She no beauty, but she's pretty, isn't she?"

"She's young," Carla answered. "I figured about thirty, thirty-one. And she dresses well, and she's got a good body. I'll bet she goes to the gym every day. She hasn't had any kids, although maybe she'll have one once they're married. These second wives always like to have one kid to take the attention away from the first wife's kids. They never really feel safe as long as the first wife and her kids are hovering in the background," Carla said.

"Where do you get all this information?" Nora demanded to know.

"Oprah. Dr. Phil. Jerry, and Jenny," Carla said. "And every d.a.m.ned women's magazine has articles on your situation. You aren't the first woman to be dumped by her husband for a younger woman. You won't be the last."

"As long as I get my house," Nora replied.

"Listen, hon, I wouldn't count on keeping the house," Carla said, sitting down on Nora's bed. "Rick says they're going to really have to do a number to even get you half its value in cash. And really, Nora, what the h.e.l.l do you want this big place for anyway? The kids are practically gone, and you aren't going to have the money to keep it up. It's a lot of work, and we're not getting any younger, babe."

"I'm not letting Jeff take my house," Nora said stubbornly.

"Look, there's a great new condo community opening up right on the old Carstairs estate on the bay. Half the value of this house would buy you a nice two-bedroom, and you would always have room for the kids."

"No," Nora said. "The house is mine, and I'm not letting him have it, Carla. He can have everything else. The kids can take loans for the rest of their schooling. He can cut me off without a penny, but the house is mine."

Carla sighed. There was no point arguing further with Nora. Something was happening to her, and it had begun with her first visit to The Channel. Nora was suddenly exhibiting a strong will, and she was getting thin too. But none of that meant anything because the best Rick's law firm was going to do, the absolute best, was to get Nora the cash value of half of the house's selling price. And that would be a real battle with Jeff's world-cla.s.s divorce attorney.

Nora spent another incredible s.e.x-filled night in The Channel with Kyle. She wasn't certain when she would be able to get back. J. J. returned home after his mountain sojourn, and immediately started his summer job. He would be heading off to State in mid-August. Sports teams reported early, and he was a member of State's junior varsity, thanks to his scholarship. On one hand Nora dreaded his leaving. J. J. was good company, and he made her laugh. But on the other hand she could barely wait for him to be gone. She needed Kyle, and the pa.s.sion that they shared between them. It had become more than just mindless s.e.xual games. He was openly and obviously in love with her, and Nora was certain she was beginning to feel the same way.

Her days were filled with all the things a mother does for a son going off to college. She made lists, and bought items she would never have bought for herself, but that she knew he would need and appreciate, like a sandwich maker and a small coffeepot. She and Carla shopped together because Maureen would be going two and a half weeks after J. J. They bought sheets, pillowcases, towels, washcloths, and down comforters. Margo's generous graduation gift to her only grandson had allowed him to buy a nice laptop, and the rooms in State's dorms all had Internet access cable connections. Oh, brave new world, Nora thought, remembering how up-to-date she had been in her freshman year with a small electric typewriter. And as the day came closer for J. J.'s departure, Nora began to pack her son's possessions, glad she was alone and could sniffle over the very worn Clifford the Big Red Dog stuffed toy that J. J. had always loved.

Those were the good days. There were bad days too, like the day she and her attorneys met with Jeff and his attorneys. Her husband, certain of victory, was pompous and unyielding. Nora was certain he had expected her to weep and go to pieces. Instead she had attacked him verbally and told him he would get their house over her dead body. She accused him of stealing the kids' college funds, and when Raoul Kramer had protested, Nora had attacked him too.

"If those accounts didn't belong to the children, why did he show them to the kids every G.o.dd.a.m.ned Christmas morning and tell them that those accounts were their college funds! Jill went through her undergrad studies in three years on the interest from her account. Do you know what your client did, Mr. Kramer? He fraudulently stole those accounts last spring. He went to the kids and had them sign papers telling them it was for tax purposes. What he obviously did was get them to sign paperwork taking their names off those accounts so he could have the money to spend elsewhere. He refused to pay our son's freshman year at State. J. J. has a sports scholarship, but it was our neighbors who gave him the money for his dorm room and meal plan!"

"Jill's tuition at Duke Law is paid," Jeff put in.

"For this year only, because you had to pay it early," Nora snapped. "You've told her you won't pay the other two years, you miserable b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You have disenfranchised your own children so you can marry a girl young enough to be your daughter. I don't care that you want to divorce me, and that hurts, doesn't it, Jeff? I'm supposed to be weeping and begging, but I'm not, and I never will. I don't want a penny from you, but the house is mine. If you attempt to take it from me, so you and your trophy wife can begin anew debt free, I will find some way to make you sorry, you can be certain of that." She glared hard at him.

"What the h.e.l.l has come over you, Nora?" he demanded. "You've changed."

"Gee, have I?" she said sarcastically. "You have been s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g everything that moved but me for years. Now you want a divorce. You don't want to meet your parental obligations. You want to put me out on the street, and make me homeless, and I'm not supposed to stand up to you? Get real!"

"You can get a job," he snapped. "Other women do."

"I have a degree in English literature, Jeff. No teaching credits. No work experience. I don't know one end of a computer from another. What the h.e.l.l am I supposed to do to support myself? I need to take some cla.s.ses to get me up to speed, and I'm not going to do it living in a homeless shelter. Besides, Egret Pointe doesn't have a homeless shelter."

Raoul Kramer sighed, and said, "I think I need to take my client back to town and talk to him again. Let's meet again in ten days?" He stood up.

"Look, Heidi and I have been accepted by the co-op board, Kramer. We need to close on our apartment," Jeff told his attorney.

"I'll get you a bridge loan," Kramer said in a hard, tight voice. "This matter is not going to be settled as quickly as I antic.i.p.ated."

"You said it would be a matter of days." Jeff's voice was strident. "You said it was a no-brainer. Everything was mine. She didn't have a leg to stand on, d.a.m.nit!" His face was red, and Nora noticed in that moment how much he'd aged.

"That was before I knew her father gave you half of the down payment for your house, Jeff. That was before I knew those accounts were in your kids' names, and you conned them out of them. She's right. It's fraud. Now, I'm certain Mrs. Buckley doesn't wish to encourage your son and daughter to press charges. I'm certain if we reconsider your position, we can come to an agreement that will be satisfactory to us all. Let's go." He turned to Rick. "I'll have Bev call your girl to set up another meeting." He closed his black Italian leather briefcase with a snap, and turned toward the door.

"You've turned into a real b.i.t.c.h," Jeff snarled at Nora.

"Only two good things came out of our marriage, Jeff, J. J. and Jill," Nora told him. "I feel sorry for Heidi. She'll learn soon enough what a jerk you really are."

Jeff Buckley stormed past his attorney and stalked out of the room. Raoul Kramer followed at a discreet pace.

"I'm glad I'm not riding back to the city with him," Rick said with a grin. "Well, I think that went rather well, considering. I think we can get you a half interest in the house, and some alimony until you're able to get a job that will support you. I had already told Kramer about the accounts, but I don't think he gave it much credence until you blew your top at Jeff, Nora."

"This isn't fair," Nora muttered.

"No, it isn't, but the law isn't always about what's right, or what's fair. It's about the law," Rick told her.

"Let the house be appraised. I'll buy his half from him," Nora said.

"Honey, you couldn't get a mortgage," Rick said. "You don't have any credit. Your one credit card is in his name. The phone is in his name. The electricity. The water. The gas. And you don't have a job, nor the hope of one for a while. I'm sorry, Nora. Those are the facts."

"I don't care what I have to do," Nora said, and now her voice was shaking. "I . . . I'm not going to let him sell my home!" Then she turned, and left Rick Johnson's office.

She didn't tell J. J. of her meeting. No need for him to worry. He was heading off to State next week. She had intended on driving him, but the school was sending a bus all over the vicinity to pick up the new players of the various campus sports on scholarship. This way, it was reasoned, they could begin to get to know one another on their ride up to school. In a way she was glad. She wouldn't have a long lonely ride home. She had bought J. J. one of those prepaid cell phones with three hundred minutes on it.

"Don't use up all your minutes calling Lily," she warned him. "I want to hear from you, and know you're alright. Those minutes should last you until Homecoming Weekend. I'll buy you more minutes then, okay?"

His main concern was that she be alright, but Nora a.s.sured her son she would be fine. He was to study hard and play well. "He says he's selling the house," J. J. told his mother. "He can't do that, can he, Ma?"

"I don't want you to worry, J. J.," Nora said. "We're not losing our home. I will not allow that to happen. When did you talk to your father?"

"He called the other day when you and Carla were out shopping. I had just got home from work. I wouldn't have talked to him otherwise. Do you know what he had the gall to say to me, Ma, just before he hung up? Heidi says hi. Like I care!"

Nora laughed at her son's outrage. "I hope you said hi back," she teased.

"In your dreams, Ma!" he chuckled.

And then it was J. J. day to leave her, and she drove down to the Egret Pointe village green, where the bus was going to meet the football, soccer, tennis, swimming, and lacrosse players going to State. There were half a dozen boys standing there and three girls. The big bus pulled up, and the driver got out, opening the baggage compartments. Luggage was stowed, and the kids began to board. Nora hugged her son, and J. J. hugged her back.

"Be good," she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah." His voice was a little shaky.

"Call me when you get settled," Nora told him, pretending she hadn't noticed.

"Yeah, okay." He hugged her again and then, turning abruptly away, got on the bus. He found a window seat, and knocked on the window at her.

Nora saw him and smiled bravely. The door closed. The driver released his brakes with a hiss, and the bus began to pull away. Nora waved, feeling the tears pushing forward. Several other mothers were already crying, and being comforted by their husbands. The bus was gone. She walked to J. J.'s jalopy and got in. She had no one to comfort her. Not here. But she had already ordered The Channel for this evening. She hadn't seen Kyle in several days now, and their last meetings had been hurried ones because Nora was so nervous about anyone, especially J. J., learning her secret. Now, however, she would be alone in her house. Alone to live out her wildest fantasies with her lover. And no one would ever know. It was her secret. Hers, and the secret of all the other women, whoever they might be, outside of Ansley Court.

She thought about the meeting she had had with Mr. Nicholas earlier this summer. When this mess with Jeff was settled, she was going to tell everyone she was going away for a few days, everyone but Carla, and then she was going to take a delicious vacation in The Channel. She would close the den door tightly, and Carla would come and feed the cats twice a day. She thought about waking up next to Kyle, and maybe even Rolf too, in that great big bed, in that sensuous room. Rolfie would ma.s.sage her every day. She would have a facial, manicure, pedicure. She would demand to be treated like a queen, and they would do it because it was The Channel, where all your fantasies came true.

Nora laughed aloud as she drove along back to her house. And jerky old Jeff back in the city, forced to pay the interest on a bridge loan so Heidikins could have her co-op. She suspected Heidi wasn't stupid enough to let Jeff put just his name on the deed of ownership. Jeff couldn't possibly imagine what a wonderful time his soon-to-be-discarded wife was having getting her brains f.u.c.ked out by two very virile and handsome young men. Nora was still laughing as she pulled into her drive. Tonight couldn't come soon enough.

Chapter Seven.

The autumn came, and Carla remarked that she thought Nora was really losing a lot of weight. "Haven't you noticed? Your clothes are hanging on you. Are you eating enough, sweetie?"

"I'm fine," Nora rea.s.sured her friend, "but I miss our coffee hours, and I miss all the kids on the court. It'll really be empty next year when the twins are gone, and Tiff is already working in Joe and Rick's office. She goes to cla.s.s a couple of mornings a week, and then works the afternoons. Even you're gone during the days now."

"Yeah, I was really lucky being able to switch to the seven-a.m.-to-three-p.m. shift from nights," Carla said. "I can be home now in plenty of time to fix a nice dinner for Rick, and then when he goes to sleep before nine" she grinned"I can spend an hour or two playing in The Channel."

"I wonder if the others are playing too?" Nora said softly.

"Rina is back full-time with social services. They need case workers desperately, especially experienced ones like Rina. And Joanne is subbing this year for one of the fourth-grade teachers who's out on maternity leave."

"When did that happen?" Nora asked.

"The sub they had got preggers too, and without benefit of clergy. The school board wasn't too thrilled, but it's a difficult pregnancy and so she quit. They called in Joanne," Carla explained.

"Fourth grade," Nora said softly. "I remember fourth grade."

"Yeah, the year when all nice little kids turn into know-it-all, smart-mouthed preteens," Carla replied. "I don't envy Joanne one bit. How are your cla.s.ses coming? You never did tell me what you decided to take."

"Introduction to Computers, Introduction to Business Management, Beginning Marketing, and a course called How to Get a Job in Today's Market. That one only meets once a week, but it's fascinating, and it's scary. I wish I was more interested in teaching, but I'm just not," Nora said.

"Doing any Channel surfing?" Carla said with a grin.

"Every night," Nora replied. "I don't know what I'd do without Kyle and Rolf."

"My G.o.d, Nora, no wonder you look so drawn!" Carla exclaimed. "You've got a full course load, and you're partying all night. When the h.e.l.l do you sleep? Not to mention get your homework done." Her brown eyes showed concern.

"My schedule is set up so I only have cla.s.ses three days a week. I go nine to noon two days, and nine to one on Wednesdays. I come home and do the course work and the reading. I'm asleep by five thirty most nights, up at nine, and into The Channel for some fun. I'm limiting my time there on school nights. I'm home by one a.m., and then up at seven thirty on school days. I've never been happier," Nora said with a smile. "Jeff isn't as happy," she laughed. "You're right, though. My clothes are hanging on me these days. I'll have to do some alterations. I just don't have the funds for new stuff, but I'm going to splurge and get my hair colored. Jeff wouldn't let me, but nothing ages a woman more than too much weight and faded hair."

"Are you dieting?" Carla asked.

"Nah," Nora said.

"What did you eat for breakfast this morning?" Carla demanded to know.

"I grabbed a yogurt and cup of coffee before I left," Nora replied.

"And lunch? What did you eat for lunch?" Carla persisted.

Nora thought a moment. "I forgot lunch," she said.

"It looks like you're forgetting lunch a lot these days," Carla told her, and going to Nora's fridge, she opened it to peer inside. "Good grief!" she exclaimed. "There's nothing in here."

"Yes, there is too," Nora responded.

"Half a cooked chicken, and you didn't cook it. It's one of those rotisserie birds from the market," Carla said. "A bowl of salad greens. Yogurt, a couple of bottles of flavored soda water, cheddar cheese, and some two percent milk. Nora, you aren't cooking for yourself! No b.u.t.ter? No bread?" She pulled open the top freezer. There was a package of Stouffer's macaroni and cheese, a bag of frozen green beans, and two packages of frozen chopped spinach. "No ice cream?" Carla shook her head. "Honey, you aren't taking care of yourself," she fretted. "You're going to get sick."

"I don't know how to cook for one," Nora muttered. "Besides, I take a multivitamin pill every day, Carla. I'm hardly skin and bones right now."

"You were a size sixteen, and I would put money on it that you've lost at least two dress sizes," Carla said, her sharp eye examining her best friend.

"I used to be a size eight," Nora said.

"Older women who lose too much weight always look their age, or older if they don't have the dollars to do face work, and you don't, sweetie. And even those women who do, h.e.l.l, you can tell. I don't care how good the doctor is those done-over faces on older gals always end up looking like an Egyptian death mask. There comes a time when a woman should age gracefully."

"I am aging gracefully," Nora laughed, "but losing a little weight will be good for my heart and blood pressure. Look at Margo. My mother is in her early seventies, and still a size six. And she doesn't look her age at all."

"Come to dinner tonight," Carla said.