Private Entrance (The Butterfly Trilogy) (40 page)

     She listened, and nodded wordlessly. Abby saw her swallow with difficulty, and remembered the dry throat. Fetching her a glass of water, she handed it to her as Ophelia said, "Mom, they're going to send a private jet to pick you and Dad up." Her voice was raw. "Can you—Can you come right away? First thing in the morning?" She looked at Abby, who nodded. Then she said, "Okay, yes, I know you love me. I love you, too, Mom."

     Ophelia held the phone out. "My mother wants to talk to you."

     Abby took the phone, paused for courage, then put it to her ear. "Mr. Kaplan, this is Abby Tyler," she said calmly. "Your daughter Ophelia is here with me. I think...I have reason to believe she is
my
daughter. The papers that were given to me—I beg your pardon?" Abby glanced at Ophelia, who had gone shockingly pale. "Yes," Abby said. "May, 1972. Through a man named—" Abby closed her eyes. "Yes, Bakersfelt. The same man. I beg your pardon? I understand, Mr. Kaplan. We'll talk about it when you get here. My assistant will call in a few minutes to make your flight arrangements. Good night."

     After she hung up, Abby said to Ophelia, "They'll be here in the morning."

     Ophelia's voice came out a whisper. "What did my mother say?"

     Abby could hardly find the words. "She said it's true. They adopted you thirty-three years ago."

S
ISSY HAD AWAKENED THAT MORNING WITH A DIVIDED HEART.
Last night had been so wonderful, spectacular in fact—the fantasy room decorated like a castle tower, with suits of armor, stone walls, tapestries. Sissy had been costumed in a gown with a tight bodice and full skirts, a lace cap on her head, her hair done up in ringlets over her ears. She had been given needlepoint to occupy her time, and just when she thought she had been forgotten, a man had come through the window, literally flying in, so that Sissy had jumped and screamed, and then she had seen the doublet and breeches, the magnificent plumed hat, and he was impossibly handsome with black hair and a rakish smile, and when he begged her not to let the night guard know he was in there—he, "A captain of the King's Musketeers,"—Sissy had fallen right into the role.

     Sissy had wanted to try something in one of the sex manuals. She had thought she might have to point it out to him, explain what she wanted, but it hadn't been necessary. A little wine, some flirting, a few signals from Sissy, and things were underway.

     On Tuesday night, with the Marine lieutenant, Sissy had tried something she had never done before, and she had enjoyed it. Last night, the tables were turned. She had laid back in a dreamy haze as her companion had made love to her with his tongue. She had never imagined it could be so delicious. And when she came, her orgasm was explosive.

     The delightful part was that, after the oral lovemaking, her companion was still able to perform in the more conventional manner, using his lovely penis to bring her to more peaks of pleasure.

     Such a wonderful week—Alistair on the bridge, the Marine Lieutenant on leave from combat, her bath partner with the gun, and finally last night—Sissy felt as if she walked in a new body. Every molecule danced with energy. Today was her last day and she was not looking forward to leaving.

     But at the same time she missed her children and couldn't wait to take them into her arms, to hear about soccer practice and spelling exams and what movies they had seen. She missed Ed, too, and dreaded the inevitable confrontation that must take place between them. She was definitely leaving him. Sissy might have had sex with four strangers, but she had not given her heart to a single one.

     Toweling off from her invigorating shower, she tried to focus on today. Like Scarlett O'Hara she would deal with the future when it arrived. For now, she still had twenty-four hours at The Grove and she intended to make full use of it.

     When she heard the knock at the door, she thought it was room service. She had ordered filet mignon with scrambled eggs, papaya juice, kiwi fruit and a devilish crispy cheese bread found only at The Grove. Cinching the sash of her silk robe tightly about her waist (she wore nothing underneath), and thinking of the room service waiter last Monday and the come-on look he had given her, and thinking she might just invite him in to share a little breakfast with her, she opened the door.

     And received a shock.

     "Ed!"

     "Hi Sissy." His eyes widened. "My God, you look wonderful!"

     "What are you doing here?"

     "We have to talk. May I come in?"

     She stood her ground. "How did you get here?"

     "When you wouldn't answer your phone I called the manager, Miss Nichols. I told her my problem and she got me a seat on this morning's flight in. Sissy, listen to me."

     Seeing Ed after nearly a week's absence upset her balance. He was still cute, with his dimples and sparse hair on top and horn-rimmed glasses that made him look like a little boy. Fifteen years of memories washed over her—high school prom night, their wedding, the honeymoon, the birth of their first child, all the Christmases and birthdays and Ed falling in the snow and Sissy burning their first dinner, and four-year-old Adrian learning to say, "Hail Mary full of grapes." It was hard to believe this man had cheated on her, had hurt her the way he had.

     She stepped aside and he came in. As soon as she closed the door, the words poured from his mouth. "Sissy, I love you. I didn't fall in love with someone else. It was just curiosity. I just wanted to know what it was like. I thought I was missing out on something."

     She listened calmly while her emotions churned. She refused to cry, but tears threatened.

     "It started at Gary's bachelor party, remember that? Someone brought a couple of strippers and, well, one thing led to another and I discovered I liked it. It was exciting. I tried to stay away, Sissy. But I got kind of addicted."

     "The sports club," she said in a tight voice. "Two nights a week with Hank Curly?"

     He reddened. "I've been going to that place out on the highway beyond the city limits."

     Her jaw dropped. "The one that's called a
gentleman's
club?"

     "A buyer from Oregon, Hank Curly, introduced me to the place. I just couldn't stay away. Call it a midlife crisis. I don't know. I'm not proud of myself. But I wasn't having affairs, Sissy. I didn't fall in love."

     She pressed her lips together and tipped her chin. Ed's jaw was covered with stubble. Shadows lurked beneath his eyes. He looked wretched. Still, he was the one who had done the hurting. "Did Linda like her watch?"

     He groaned. "Sissy, I am so sorry you found out about that." He reached into his pocket. "The jeweler could have told you I ordered this at the same
time." It was a beautiful gold bracelet with both their names inscribed on it.

     Sissy felt a small crack in her resolve. "You didn't answer my question."

     "Linda didn't accept the watch. She said it was inappropriate." He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to her. "Linda Delgado is a marriage counselor. She said it wasn't ethical to accept a gift from a client."

     Sissy stared at the card.

     Ed said, "I was a mess, Sissy. I didn't know who I was or what I wanted anymore. I only knew that I wanted to find my way back to you, back to
us.
Father Ignatius recommended this woman. She counsels Catholic couples. I went out of town because I didn't want any of our friends to find out."

     "Why did you go to a therapist? Why not come to me?"

     His blush deepened. "Because, well, it was embarrassing, Sissy. Linda Delgado's specialty is sex therapy. I couldn't talk to you about it. I mean, our Saturday nights, I'm sorry Sissy, they just aren't enough." He ran a tongue over his lips. "Sissy, I love you, I will always love you. I'm not trying to excuse what I did, but I want you to know that it was never love. It was just sex."

     He fell silent and as he waited for a response, noticed differences in her appearance. Had she lost weight? Gained weight? Had her freckles faded or did she have a tan? Her make-up was different. No, it was the silk robe that he had never seen before, the way it was tied around her waist emphasizing the fullness of her breasts, the erect nipples pressing against the fabric. He swallowed with difficulty. He was confused. He had never seen Sissy quite so...
sexy
before.

     "I'm sorry," he said. "I know you don't see it as 'just sex.' That sleeping with another woman is wrong even if there is no love—"

     She put her finger to his lips. "It's possible that I do understand what you mean by 'just sex.'" But she didn't elaborate, and she wouldn't tell him about Alistair and the others. Some things were best left secret.

     He took her hand between his. "Sissy, I'm here to beg your forgiveness and ask you to give me a second chance."

     She smiled and said, "It isn't entirely your fault, Ed. There must be something wrong with me if you felt you couldn't be open and honest with me. So I forgive you, Ed, and I will give you a second chance, because I want a second chance, too."

     "Then you'll go with me to see Dr. Delgado? I'm still not cured. I still crave the excitement—"

     "Ed, we don't need therapists. We can work things out ourselves, and The Grove is the best place for it," and with that she led him to the bedroom, knowing now what had been missing in her life, excitement and romance, just as it had been missing from Ed's, and she thought of the surprise that lay in store for Ed when she guided him into a new world of passion and intimacy, realizing that if it hadn't been for The Grove she might not have forgiven Ed and given him this second chance. But she had had a taste of it herself, with Alistair, the Marine and the others. She understood the fascination of sex with an exciting stranger. But from now on, she and Ed would be those exciting strangers for each other as together they explored the unknown territory of erotic love and Sissy introduced him to role-playing, costumes, and sex toys.

     First thing in the morning, she was going to request an extension of her stay at The Grove. Using Ed's credit card, of course.

A
BBY WAS TO HAVE LEFT THE RESORT BY NOW, BUT BECAUSE
of Ophelia she had postponed her departure.

     Last night, after Abby made arrangements for the Kaplans to come to The Grove, Ophelia had said she wanted to be alone with David. Abby understood. They all had a lot to think about. She was glad Ophelia had David for comfort and support. She herself had wanted to go to Jack for the same thing, but she knew he was making peace with his sister and Abby did not want to intrude. She had then called Vanessa's bungalow only to get her friend's voice mail. Occasionally Vanessa did not spend the night in her own bed. And so Abby had passed the night alone with her memories and fears, thinking of the past but determined to face the future, unable to sleep, and wondering also about the person who had slipped the "You're next" note under her door. She had expected to hear from them again. But they had not made a move. What were they waiting for?

     Finally morning had come and now Abby stood at the landing strip,
awaiting Mrs. Kaplan's arrival. Mrs. Kaplan, who was about to have her daughter taken from her.

     The winds had died, the air was calm. The resort was covered in dust and sand, and the staff was already at work sweeping the walkways, scooping debris out of the pools, rolling up the tarpaulin on the aviary.

     The plane's engines could be heard before the craft itself was in view. Abby braced herself. Standing between Abby and David, Ophelia waited for the woman she had thought for thirty-three years was her mother. Her emotions were in turmoil. Not to belong to the family she had thought she belonged to—after all these years! Her sisters and brother. The myriad aunts, uncles, cousins.
Zaydeh
Abraham saying, "She isn't one of us."

     But that also meant her baby wasn't one of them, probably not even Jewish. And no longer in danger of dying of Tay-Sachs disease.