Mike had plenty of money. This wasn't just sex. Mike wasn't using her for some ulterior motive. He wasn't just saying he loved her. He really did love her.
Marcy's eyes stung as she began to cry.
"Honey? Are you alright?" he asked.
Her breath hitched. "Are you kidding? This is the ring I want. It's gorgeous. It's the most beautiful engagement ring in the whole world."
She slipped it on the appropriate finger, and admired it. Then she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, leaned down and threw her arms around his neck. Her head pressed in the curve of his shoulder. The scent and feel of him assaulted her senses. Mike's arms wrapped like bands around her. Then he began to stroke her back, her head and her hair. The sensation was utterly absorbing – a tactile delight.
Marcy's mind whirled. Katie was going to go nuts. They were going to be a family. Was Katie too young to be a bridesmaid? She seemed too old to be a flower girl. But who could play the part of her father? Who could walk her down the aisle and give her away? André? Maybe Gustave?
Marcy's first wedding had been pathetic. She had been hurt at the time, but Trent's sensible financial practicality had convinced her. Later she found that Trent was in debt and was never ever practical when it came to money.
Looking back Marcy realized that Trent had been ashamed to marry her because she wasn't the super model he dreamed of. In his mind Marcy wasn't good enough for him. He had been using her as a stepping stone to greater things. Wasn't that a crazy thing for someone to do?
Her wedding to Mike was going to be a proper wedding. It would be an event to share with friends and family. A romantic celebration of their love. It would be a special memory that she would have all her life.
Marcy had never been so happy.
"I'm so glad that I found you," Mike said in a low voice. The sound of it vibrated right through her, deep, male – and heartfelt. "I love you, Marcy Paget."
"I love you, too, Mike Thompson," she said.
52. Baby
Marcy's heart was full. When she looked into his eyes, her mouth just blurted out. "I'm not on the pill. Do you want… should we try to have a child together, Mike?"
His eyes lit with joy. "I thought you'd never ask," he said his teeth flashing in an enthusiastic grin. He rolled her over and lay on top of her, face to face. "Yes, I want us to have children." He gave her soft feathered kisses to her mouth, her nose, her eyes, and her cheeks.
Stunned, she said, "Why didn't you tell me that?"
He stopped kissing her for a moment, and met her gaze. "Because, my love, I didn’t want you to think that having children was the reason that I wanted to marry you. I want you for you – whether we end up having a bigger family or not."
Marcy stared at him for one clear moment.
It was an epiphany.
All this time he had been avoiding the subject of having children, for her. He didn't want to pressure her! But she had avoided the subject because she didn't want to pressure him!
Marcy threw back her head and laughed out loud.
"What?" he asked, with a bemused smile.
"Remember how you talked about how you and Barbara didn't have kids? You looked so sad and upset. I thought that maybe you were sterile. I assumed that you couldn't have them so I was avoiding the subject. I've been waiting for you to bring the topic of having children up."
"Sterile?" He pushed himself up on one arm. "Wherever did you get that idea? If I wasn't able to have children I sure wouldn't be bothering with condoms."
"I assumed that you were using them because your blood results aren't back yet."
"Nope." Mike shook his head, but he was still wearing that happy grin of his. "I don't care about my blood results. There's no possibility that I have an STD anyway."
They chatted, explaining the mix-up to each other, laughing all the while. How funny to have such a complete misunderstanding, Marcy mused. They hadn't communicated because they were afraid of hurting each other. How stupid was that? It was a good lesson. Even if you are worried that you'll upset your partner, it's still better to be honest.
"André is always telling people, 'It's best to begin a relationship in the manner in which you intend to go on,' Mike said. "I swear that I will never lie to you, Marcy. And from now on let's not avoid difficult subjects."
Marcy laughed. "Leave it to André to have the last word. That is really good advice."
Mike rubbed his face and nose against hers, lightly kissed her lips and met her gaze. His beautiful brown eyes were full and soft as he caressed her.
"I love you, Marcy. I would have been happy for the rest of my life being your husband and step-father to Katie, who is the best kid ever. But I also want as big a family as you can stand. Five, ten…twenty children or more."
Marcy giggled like child.
Her antics and laughter was cut off when he plundered her mouth, using his tongue, and his teeth. He played with her top and bottom lip, biting, licking and kissing her soundly with absolute passion.
"Want to get started?" he asked raising his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
Her hand went to his face, her fingers trailed lovingly over him. Was there any man more perfect for her than Mike was?
"Oh yes," she said. "Let's celebrate our engagement by trying our damndest to make a baby."
The sharp ring of Marcy's mobile phone interrupted them. Because it may be something to do with Katie, she answered it.
"Marcy Paget?"
"Yes."
"It's me, Debra Berger."
"Oh, hello, Debra," Marcy said and raised her eyebrows with a "WTF?" expression. Mike frowned in response. He knew who Debra was.
There were some strange background sounds on the phone. Debra sounded like she was in the kitchen of a restaurant or something.
"I was hoping to see you," Debra said. "But before we meet, I need to swear you to secrecy."
"What do you mean?"
"Trent can't know that you and I talked together," Debra said. "It's really important."
"Debra," Marcy said patiently. "Trent is Katie's father. I can’t promise that I'll keep secrets from him carte blanche, not when I don’t even know what secrets I'll have to be keeping. I can’t promise anything."
"But he'll be so angry if he knows I've talked to you!" Debra protested. "He'll yell and…" she paused for a long moment, and when she spoke again she sounded very young. "I hate it when he's mad at me," she finished in a whisper.
Marcy inhaled a deep breath. She felt sorry for Debra, innocent little lamb that she was. She also identified with her. Trent had chosen another victim. That was his M.O after all. He was also no doubt making the woman's life hell already.
"Hamburger with the lot, up for table four," Marcy heard in the background of Debra's phone. "Are you using a land line phone at a restaurant?" Marcy asked.
"Yes."
"Very clever," Marcy complimented her, well aware of the bravery that Debra was displaying by calling. A little praise might help the poor woman get through this. "Calling me from your own mobile would have been a big mistake. Trent checks every call – but I guess you've figured that out already, haven't you?"
Debra gave her a kind of hysterical laugh. "Yes."
Marcy considered for a moment. She wanted to help, and this poor woman sounded like she was in real trouble. She slipped off Mike, sitting up on the bedside beside him. Marcy kept a hand on him, running her fingers through his thick chest hair. Touching him soothed her nervous tension.
Mike lay back and put his arms behind his head, showing off those sexy muscular biceps. He was well aware of who she was talking to, and was attentively paying attention.
"Can you give me an example of what I'm going to have to keep secret?" Marcy asked.
There was a long pause. "I'm going to trust you," Debra said. "Someone I have confidence in says you're a nice person. I'm going to have to rely on his judgment of your character."
"Okay," Marcy said, but she had no idea wh
o Debra was talking about.
"Trent thinks I've gone off the pill, but I haven't," she confessed. "He wants a baby. I don’t want to have a baby with him until I understand more about him. He's the head of the household. As my husband I should honor and obey, but recently he's made me wonder about some things."
"Okay." Resigned, Marcy sighed. "When do you want to meet?"
"Can I see you tomorrow? I thought we would meet somewhere neutral. Perhaps at a park or something?"
"Sure." Marcy told her about Sunset Park and arranged to meet her at the basketball courts. They would meet at ten-thirty Sunday morning, the next day. She explained that the park was at the southern end of Las Vegas Valley.
"How do you plan on keeping our little assignation secret?" Marcy asked.
"Trent thinks I'll be in church," Debra said. "I never miss church, but this time I'll go to and make my excuses to our minister. Then I'll slip out and meet you."
"I have no idea what you look like."
"Oh," Debra said. "I'm about five foot-eight, blonde and blue eyed. I'll be sitting near the basketball court wearing a blue dress and a knee length red coat if it's chilly."
"Okay. Um…" Marcy began, "can I ask if there is something particular you want to know from me? What exactly do you want to talk about?"
"Trent," Debra said. "I really need to talk about Trent. He told me that Katie isn’t his child and that you were unfaithful. I wondered if he might have been telling me a lie."
The words on Marcy's lips vaporized in a flare of instant internal heat. She found herself incapable of uttering a single sound. The noise of conversation around Debra came to Marcy's ears through the phone.
The loud buzzing hum of red fury came from somewhere deep inside her brain.
That miserable piece of shit! That fucking asshole!
No wonder Trent avoided his daughter, had never introduced her to his new wife, and never had her to his home! Straight blonde hair, rounded face, and aquiline nose. Except for having her mother's brown eyes rather than her father's blue ones, Katie was the spitting image of the man.
Her eyes narrowed and she scowled. Mike looked up at her with alarm and concern. Well, she would explain later.
Fucking Trent, she thought. Can't have that, can we? Can't have anyone knowing Trent's secrets. Finding out his convenient, constant and consistent lies.
Before Marcy could say anything, Debra said, "I'm sorry. I've got to go. See you tomorrow," and hung up.
53. Assignation
It was ten o'clock, Sunday morning. A sunny day with high white clouds and a cool breeze. Debra and Martin intentionally arrived half an hour early.
Debra Berger nervously studied the area, wiping moist hands on her coat.
Sunset Park featured sixteen outdoor basketball courts. Ringside there were plenty of benches and picnic tables for players to sit while waiting between games. Someone had started a BBQ already, she could smell sausages. Families and children rode on bikes, skateboarded or walked. Dogs were on leads with their owners. In the distance, just nearby, she could see a kite.
The place was packed already.
Martin gripped her hand and Debra tensed. They had already been arguing this morning. No, that wasn't right. Not arguing. Martin never argued with her. He knew what she wanted. Martin simply used careful persuasion to give her the courage to act. God knew that Debra needed to do something about her situation.
The familiar feeling of panic flowed through her. What if Trent found out? What would he do?
Martin took her by the shoulders. "Look at me, Debra," he said.
Debra's gaze met his, and she instantly felt better. How did Martin do that? Trent filled her with doubt and uncertainty, but Martin made her feel safe. He made her believe in herself.
Martin's beautiful brown eyes held an encouraging glitter. "This moment could change everything for us, Debbie."
She calmed at the sound of that familiar nickname. Her grandfather called her that. Debra's father was strict, but he loved her. Grandpa Dan loved her, too, but he was nothing like his son. Grandpa Dan was big, tough and gruff. Yet to her he had always been soft and sweet as cream whipped laced with icing sugar.
The heat from Martin's hands on her shoulders warmed her. It was fifty degrees out. She was dressed warm enough, but dread always made her blood run with ice. She wondered if this time maybe Trent had followed her.
"Debbie," Martin gave her a little shake. "You are letting your fear run away with you. Trent doesn’t know you’re here. Stop worrying. Listen to me now. Shut your eyes."
Debra, naturally compliant, instantly did as he said.
"Imagine yourself fifteen years from now," he said in a calm soothing voice. "Can you do that for me?"
She nodded. "Okay."
"You'll be a mother, with two or three precious children. Children who will depend on you to do whatever is needed. Children who will rely on you to do what is best for them. Would you rather be with Trent or me? Would you rather have me as the father of your children? Or him?"
Debra looked up into Martin's eyes. They instantly softened with understanding. Why was it that he knew her so well? Debra was in love. In love! With someone other than her husband. It was wrong, and it was a sin, but she hadn’t planned to have it happen this way.
For once Debra Berger understood and sympathized with sinners.
Did anyone set out with an intention to sin? Or did life just happen? Because it had certainly happened to her.
She thought of her father, and his possible reaction to her divorce. She didn't want to let him down. The idea of doing that broke her heart. Daddy had never wanted her to marry Trent. He only allowed it because she was so set on it.
She wanted to make her father proud. She wanted to make the people the church she had attended all her life proud. She wanted to live as she should. To be a good example to others.
But now it was all lost. How had it all gone so wrong?
I'm so naive! I'm so stupid!
Martin pulled her into his arms, and she gratefully melted into him. "I'm sorry, Martin," she sniffed, holding back tears. "I'm such a mess. I'm stupid and weak and I don’t understand why you put up with me."
He stepped back, pulled out a travel pack of tissues and gave her one. "Thank you," she said.
"I was going to leave you alone with Marcy Paget, but I don’t think I will, now," Martin said. "You are not stupid or weak," he admonished with a little heat, squeezing her hand. "Don't even think such terrible things about yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. Trent knew exactly how to play you, sweetheart. He is so much older and more experienced."
Martin brought her fingers to his mouth and carefully kissed each one. How did he know how to soothe her as he did? Why hadn’t she fallen in love with him first? Yet until Trent, she never really saw Martin.
"I know who you are, Debbie," Martin said. "I've watched you for years, every week at church. I've always loved you. You're the ideal woman. I'm ashamed of myself for not telling you what I thought before now. I just never considered that I was good enough for you, sweetheart. You're such a good person. So honest and pure-hearted. I still don’t think I'm good enough for you - but I'm a much better person than Trent!"
Debra looked up at him and it was a revelation.
When she was with Martin she was a different person. She could be herself. But when she was with Trent…
"C'mon," he said. "Let's go sit down and wait. She should be here soon."
They sat down together, near the one basketball court that wasn't in use. Martin explained how much he liked Mike Thompson, and how long he had known him. Mr. Thompson intended to ask Marcy Paget to marry him. Marcy just couldn’t be an adulterous woman. She didn’t seem like that at all. And her daughter, Katie, looked exactly like her father, Trent.
Debra listened and watched Martin with all her attention. He was a good person. He was an honest, kind man and a good Christian. And that question he had asked, about who she wanted to have childr
en with?
Well, it had been rolling around in her mind, ever since he had asked it.
Debra knew the answer.
She had known the answers ever since she had talked to Martin that one black day when Trent had called her a stupid 'C.' That day had changed everything.
"Martin?" she said impulsively, not wanting to wait a minute more before she told him. "I want you to be the father of our children."
54. Marcy and Debbie
Marcy spotted Debra immediately, but had been surprised by seeing Martin Quinn with her. That had explained how Debra knew that Katie was in fact Trent's child. Martin had recognized Katie – because she looked like her father. Marcy brought photos for Debra to look at, too.
They talked for an hour straight.
The secret was out. Trent Berger was a manipulative, pathological liar.
Debra was catwalk model gorgeous, yet young, naive and sweet as honey. The idea of Trent having sex with such an innocent turned Marcy's stomach. It wasn't that what Trent did sexually was disgusting or particularly perverse. That was just sex, after all.
It was Trent's selfish intentions, and what he didn't do during sex.
Trent never made love. Poor Debra, no doubt, didn’t know any better.
"When I met Trent it was like looking at the sun," Debra explained, taking a sip of the large cappuccino that Martin had bought her. "He was good-looking, blonde and charming. I thought he was an angel, all handsome and golden-haired."
Marcy laughed. "Oh yeah, I thought that, too."
Debra looked at her with a strange mixture of mature and naive in her expression. "You know, when you look directly at the sun you can't see shadows," Debra said. "Trent's shadows were there. I just could never saw them."
"Shadows, huh?" Marcy said, astonished at the young woman's poetic turn of phrase. There may be much more to Debra than she had thought. "Well, I didn’t see his shadows either. Don't blame yourself, Debra. He fooled me when I was your age, and he's had a lot more experience in manipulating people now. He ran rings around me. Trent was never faithful – everyone knew that, but no one wanted to be the one to tell me. I didn’t find out until after we divorced."