Part of him wanted to be alone. Another part was afraid of what he might do. He didn’t have much to live for. He could easily end it all.
Dora made no attempt to wipe the tears from her face as she quietly replaced the receiver on the cradle. Her suit was wrinkled. Her hair was tangled. Her mascara was smudged. Her lips trembled.
Danny’s heart went out to her. He wasn’t the only one suffering. It was selfish to think of himself. For both of their sakes, he better spend the night.
She turned to him. “Mom and Dad can’t make it back until tomorrow night. Can we set up the service for Thursday?”
“I’ll try.”
On one of the few occasions he and Cathy had brought up the subject of death, she’d asked to be cremated. She’d only wanted a memorial mass, no wake. He’d said the same. His eyes filled again. He strove for control, but failed, burying his head in his hands.
Dora placed her hand on his back. “Danny, if it helps any, I know that Cathy loved you more than anything. She was very proud of you. You were her life.”
It was sweet of Dora to try to lighten his burden despite her grief. Somehow, just hearing her speak of Cathy helped. It made Danny feel as if his wife were still alive. Strange, how he’d always thought of himself as the strong one in his relationship with Cathy. As he listened to Dora’s soothing words, he felt like a child. This woman was his only buoy left on a stormy sea. He clung to the comfort she dispensed.
His hand throbbed. The medication must be wearing off. He clutched it with the other.
She took his hand in hers. “Danny, what’s wrong with your hand?”
“When I found out about Cathy and Sean, I kind of lost it.”
“Oh, Danny.”
She put her arm across his shoulders. His eyes filled.
He had no idea how it happened. One moment they were consoling each other. The next, he was touching her warm skin. He needed someone to be close to him. Dora understood. Without question he accepted her willingness. She was here and very much alive, a means of forgetting his troubles.
He stared into the glowing amber eyes which held the secrets of the world. His fingers reached under her blouse, touching her soft skin, as if to confirm that she was real. She sat still, as with great deliberation he opened the buttons of her blouse, then pulled the sleeves off her limp arms.
Her skin shone golden in the lamplight, making him catch his breath. She was beautiful and perfect. Dora stood up and slowly unzipped her skirt. It rustled to the floor. The blood rushed to Danny’s face as he tugged off his clothes, his eyes fastened on the golden goddess in front of him. Right now she was his whole world, all he had left.
“Dora, help me,” he groaned.
“Yes, Danny.”
With trembling lips, he tasted the salt on her cheeks. He pressed his tongue into her warm mouth. His hands continued their exploration. He felt a shiver run through her, quickly answered by his own as he cupped her full breasts. That was not enough. He lowered Dora onto the couch, feeling her hot breath on his chest.
Her fingers dug into his back as he plunged into her warm, welcoming wetness. With ruthless thoroughness he lost himself in her slippery smoothness, sinking deeper and deeper into her folds. Almost fiercely, Dora clung to him as he drove himself down. She responded measure for measure. His eyes saw black, then red as he was lost in a dizzying paroxysm. She pushed him further until more spasms shook him, then her.
When it was over, he lay limp beside her, listening to her uneven breathing. All about them, the house was still, as still as death.
What had he done?
His mind recoiled and he felt like screaming. He couldn’t believe his wife hadn’t even been buried and he’d had sex with her sister. How could he have done such a thing? From wherever Cathy was, could she tell?
Without a word, he reached for his clothes, keeping his eyes averted from Dora. At a weak moment, he’d taken advantage of Cathy’s sister. The thought made him sick. He was a terrible person.
He heard the sound of a zipper snagging on cloth, then sobbing. Dora, what have I done to you? Weren’t things bad enough? he thought, but couldn’t say out loud.
Finally he heard her murmur, “I’ll get the spare room ready.”
He couldn’t hear her footsteps on the carpet, but he knew the exact moment when she’d left. The room felt empty without her, though he still smelled her scent. He knew he should wash it off, yet it somehow comforted him.
He groaned. His mind had to be twisted. The best thing to do would be to get up, walk out the front door and get as far away from Dora as possible.
Somehow he couldn’t. His limbs wouldn’t move, as he fought to keep his eyelids open. His life was a giant mess and he couldn’t function. He just wanted out.
Her resigned voice interrupted his thoughts. “Okay, Danny, you can sleep in the second room down the hall.”
The soft words sent goose bumps up and down his skin. He rose and stumbled past her to the bedroom. He had no energy left to remove his clothes, so he just sank onto the soft down comforter. Before oblivion claimed him, he had one fleeting thought. He never wanted to see Dora again.
DANNY COULDN’T FACE Dora, so he left early the next morning to make the funeral arrangements. After he’d finished the hurtful task, he flagged a waiting cab. He thought maybe he should book a hotel room. Then he remembered. Ted and Nancy were coming home tonight. He had to be there for them and try to ease their burden.
When he got back, the McGuires’ front door was unlocked. Dora was gone. The phone was ringing.
“Danny, I’m glad I tracked you down. I just got word. I’m sorry, man. As soon as I heard, I booked an early flight back.” Tony’s sympathetic voice brought fresh tears to Danny’s eyes. His friends had loved Cathy and they’d taken Sean to their hearts.
Tony was the first of many callers. Danny’s throat grew hoarse from fielding questions, yet it was comforting to know his wife had been loved. She’d brought light and beauty into many people’s lives as well as his own.
By seven o’clock Ted and Nancy arrived. Dora was still gone. Silently he embraced them. Dropping his suitcase, Ted strode to the fireplace mantle and picked up the picture of the smiling mother holding her baby.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” he said, staring at the snapshot.
With a sick heart, Danny silently watched.
Nancy McGuire joined her husband. Ted gazed at his wife with tear-filled eyes. “Our sweetheart didn’t deserve this. There wasn’t a mean bone in her body. And the poor baby. He never stood a chance.”
Danny stood silently, feeling awkward. Should he leave them in private?
Nancy glanced at Danny, then composed her face. “From the looks of you, you haven’t eaten.”
Despite his protests, Nancy pulled off her coat, then set off to the kitchen. He understood what she was doing. She’d keep occupied until she couldn’t think. He’d done it himself before, but it didn’t work this time. His world had been yanked apart once too often. Keeping busy would not set things right this time.
They silently sat around the kitchen table. Danny picked up his fork and tried to do justice to Nancy’s efforts, but before long, he gave up. He settled for sipping the coffee, though its warmth did little to permeate the chill.
Dora entered. A spasm of indigestion shook Danny.
“I’m sorry. Excuse me,” he said, pushing back his chair and escaping to the guest bedroom.
His presence at the McGuires’ home wasn’t doing any good. Each time he looked at Ted or Nancy, it reminded him that he’d betrayed Cathy.
He couldn’t impose on them any longer, especially with this guilt tearing him apart. He had to get away.
Early the next morning he called and booked a room at the Palmer House in downtown Chicago. After leaving a note saying where he’d be, he slipped out the back door.
As soon as he entered his hotel room, he closed the drapes. In the darkened room, he mourned t
he wonderful, beautiful creature he’d married and the child he’d lost before getting to know.
That night Tony called again, asking if Danny needed anything. He looked down at his wrinkled jeans and shirt, the only clothes he had left. “Could you do me a favor and pick up a suit? I don’t feel like going out.”
Tony stopped by a few hours later with the necessary articles of clothing. He offered to stay, but Danny almost pushed him out the door. He wasn’t fit company for anyone, even close friends.
ON THURSDAY, THE memorial service was jammed with friends, relatives, reporters and fans. Some were sincere, while others just stared at Danny in his grief. The cameras zoomed in, even up to the doors of the chapel, cold-bloodedly catching his every expression.
They didn’t matter. Nothing did. He had a good mind to teach all of them a lesson and quit basketball.
He placed a pink rose on the coffin. As Nancy and Ted followed suit, Danny blinked back sudden tears. Cathy had loved flowers so much.
Finally, the service was over. Only Danny and the McGuires remained in the chapel.
Nancy gazed at him kindly. “Danny, you’re welcome to stay with us. Won’t you reconsider?”
He swallowed past a huge lump in his throat. What Nancy suggested was out of the question. He couldn’t look at his wife’s mother without thinking of Cathy. They shared too many physical characteristics and mannerisms.
Also, he couldn’t risk exposure to Dora. If this sweet woman in front of him knew what he’d done, she’d spit in his face.
“Nancy, I appreciate your offer, but it’s time I sort things out. I’ll stay at the Palmer House for a while.”
Ted grasped him by the shoulders. “Are you sure, Danny? Why don’t you come back with us?”
Danny shook his head, avoiding Ted’s eyes.
The only person who didn’t extend an invitation was Dora. With lips pressed tight and eyes flashing with waiting tears, she held her post in back of her parents. He dare not go to her. If he did, he might throw his arms around her and not let go.
He made a hasty escape outside. After he’d stepped into Tony’s waiting Mustang and sank onto the front seat, he closed his eyes. Instead of seeing Cathy and Sean, he couldn’t shut out the vision of Dora. He felt her pain. He remembered her smell.