Chapter 4

Julie inspected the contents of her suitcase one last time before closing it up and placing it on the bed. She was nervous about the upcoming flight; she didn't enjoy air travel. Although it was a fairly short trip to Atlanta - roughly two hours - it had been a long time since she had traveled alone by air. Even when accompanied, flights made her nauseous, and though she wouldn't be taking off for a couple of hours, she could already feel the knot developing in the pit of her stomach.

Mark appeared in the doorway to the bedroom. "Here you go," he said, tossing a package of Dramamine on the bed, as if he could feel her burgeoning gastric distress. "Take one now, and put the rest in your carry-on bag. It's getting late, so we better get a move on. I've got the car warmed up and the heater on. Want me to carry this bag out?"

"Yes, go ahead," Julie replied. "I'm finished packing. Thanks, hon."

Mark slid past her to pick up the suitcase, affectionately and gently squeezing the side of his wife's waist as he did so. "You're tense," Mark said. "We've been through this before. Enjoy the flight. It's a lot better than driving."

"Easy for you to say," Julie shot back as he headed down the stairs, suitcase and carry-on in tow. She knew that Mark loved air travel, and he constantly touted its merits.

In truth, the prospect of a bumpy flight was not the only source of Julie's abdominal discomfort. For one thing, she was worried about the upcoming concert; she believed that her status as a last-minute fill-in had not left her enough time to prepare adequately for her role as conductor and program director. But there was another, more acute source of anxiety. Over the past few weeks, Mark's behavior had changed from uniformly distant to a state of constant extremes. On some days, he was preoccupied and built a wall around himself. But on other occasions, he was as kind and attentive as could be toward Julie. It was as if he was overcompensating for those times when he made himself unavailable to her. And right now, with him waiting on her hand and foot, her suspicions were once again aroused. Is he really concerned about my well-being, she thought, or just looking forward to my being out of town for a few days, and trying to cover it up?

She'd had a long talk with Beth earlier that day, and been assured that any unease she might have about Mark's behavior was directly connected to her fear of flying alone and the stress of putting together a music program on short notice. "Mark's spoiling you. Don't over-analyze it. Enjoy it," Beth had assured her.

Beth is a good friend, Julie told herself. But like many good friends, in the absence of concrete evidence, she habitually took the all-is-well-don't-think-too-much track when offering advice. Julie's intuition told her otherwise. Twenty years of marital equilibrium was in the process of being disturbed somehow.

She heard the front door open again. "Everything's all set," Mark yelled upstairs. "Let's get going. Thursday evenings can be hell at the airport."

Julie trudged down the stairs. Mark met her at the bottom, holding her coat, and helped her into it. He wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her tenderly. "I'll miss you this weekend," he told her. "If you need anything, just give a call. If I'm out, I'll try to keep my cell phone on."

Fighting the late rush-hour traffic on this Friday evening, Shauna was in a reflective state, lost in thought. She'd dropped her mother off at the 30th Street station in downtown Philadelphia; the Metroliner Express would have her in Baltimore in just over an hour. Momma deserves to get away for a few days, Shauna told herself. Her aunt lived alone, and Shauna was certain that her mother would enjoy the peace and quiet that was usually nowhere to be found in Shauna's household.

Not that her sons were discipline problems; although they were typical teenagers in many respects, they had generally turned out quite well so far. They were average or above average academically, didn't get into an inordinate amount of trouble, and the two eldest boys held part-time jobs and contributed most of their earnings to the household income. All of that was a testament to Shauna's quiet determination to give her sons as strong of an upbringing as possible, and the not-to-be-overlooked help from her mother. In spite of the difficulties involved with bringing up three boys without a father, Shauna had beaten the odds.

Shauna had been involved with the boys' father for several years; he was afraid of commitment. After the third child had been born, she issued to him an ultimatum: marry me or leave. He chose the latter. Although he continued to lend some financial support to his sons, in every other respect, he had largely vanished from their lives.

At that point in her life, Shauna decided to take matters in her own hands, and worked tirelessly on improving their lot in life. For a while, she worked two full-time jobs; at about this time, her mother moved in and helped out with her grandsons while her daughter worked. Eventually, Shauna attended school at night and obtained a degree from a technical college. Hard work had enabled her to purchase the residence where they now stayed, an eighty-year old duplex unit on a quiet, tree-lined street in a working-class neighborhood. She rented out the other half of the duplex. And her current job, which was an important position in a high-profile organization, was one more payoff of the blood, sweat and tears she had expended during the lean, difficult years.

Shauna's best friend was her mother; she shared everything with her. Recently, that included the details of her workplace affair with Mark. Her mom was remarkably non-judgmental about almost everything; she realized that deep down inside, her daughter was lonely, despite the fact that she had no trouble whatsoever attracting male attention. But nonetheless, she persistently managed to impress on Shauna whenever possible, that heading down this particular road might not be an especially prudent course of action.

As Shauna pulled into her driveway, the previous night's conversation with her mother was weighing on her mind. It had been late, and they both were getting ready to turn in for the night. Shauna had just related her plans for this weekend: Mark's wife was away for a few days, and he was coming over to help her paint. In her gentle, non-threatening way, Shauna's mother had expressed her thoughts on the subject. "Yes, baby, he's a professional, educated man. Yes, he treats you well and cares about you. True, you don't want a steady relationship with anyone right now. And you're a big girl now, and you'll do what you want. But remember this. Ain't no trusting a man who cheats on his wife. There just ain't no trusting him."

Her mother's words faded from her mind as she entered the warmth of her home and checked the answering machine. Sure enough, there was a message from Mark. She picked up the phone and dialed his number, to confirm everything for tomorrow.

Mark awoke, and instinctively turned to the side, expecting to detect a familiar warm, soft body next to him in the bed. Momentarily startled, he sat up. Then he remembered that Julie was away, and that he had plans for today with Shauna. He needed to get started.

Julie had called immediately upon her arrival in Atlanta; the flight was smooth and uneventful. "Told you so," Mark commented. "You got yourself all tied up in knots for nothing."

"Don't be too sure," Julie countered. "I have a return flight to deal with on Sunday." She changed the subject, not wanting to dwell further on that topic. "What's up at home?"

"Nothing much. I'm getting ready to hit the sack. I have a lot to do at work tomorrow, and I'm meeting up with a colleague of mine after work."

"Is she cute?"

"Ha ha," Mark responded without a flinch. "Very funny. It's Ronald Addison, that Jamaican scientist who went to my school. You've met him before, once or twice. I haven't seen him in a while."

Mark had indeed met up with Ronald, and the enjoyable conversation that ensued had caused him to stay out later than he would have liked. Ronald was not a party animal by any means, but he was single, unattached, and had no pressing reason to call it an early night. He knew nothing about Mark's secret dalliances, and Mark wanted to keep it that way.

He showered and shaved, then threw on some old clothes suitable for painting. He went downstairs and, hidden well back behind the dryer, was a bottle of Chardonnay that he'd purchased as soon as he'd made this painting date with Shauna. Hopefully, Mark thought, it won't take too long to paint the room. He put the cell phone in his coat pocket, just in case. Julie had phoned him three times since that initial call upon arriving at her hotel. Mark deemed that unusual, and it had him mildly concerned. But he decided to leave the cell phone turned off while at Shauna's place, making himself unavailable. He'd worry about excuses later.

Shortly thereafter, he was walking up to Shauna's front door, Chardonnay in hand. The early morning sun was shining faintly through the bare-branched trees and a veil of cirrus clouds. A couple of inches of snow had been forecast for later tonight, Mark recalled. Hopefully, they'd have everything wrapped up by then.

Shauna opened the door before he could ring the bell. She smiled broadly and let him in. A soft, tender kiss ensued, and then Mark backed off, keeping both her hands in his, and looked her over.

Appearance-wise, this was a different Shauna than the one he had come to know. Instead of the formal business wear she usually wore to work, she had on painting attire. She was wearing an old T-shirt, denim overalls, and a light gray baseball cap with the bill pointing sideways. Her highlighted velvety hair, which she often wore in an unconfined, meticulously styled manner, was tied back in a braid. The one constant was the big smile.

Mark snatched the cap from her head and inspected it. On the front was a picture of Tweety Bird. "Cute," Mark commented with a chuckle. "Got any more like it?"

"You're silly," Shauna replied. "That thing is at least ten, maybe twelve, years old. I got it at the zoo, one time when I took the kids there."

Mark placed it back on her head, with the bill pointing forward. "No, white boy," she giggled playfully, and rotated the bill one quarter turn. "Like this."

"No matter how you wear it, you're a sight for sore eyes."

"Mmm. Keep talking like that, baby, and we'll never get any painting done."

The family room was the largest room in Shauna's house; it measured roughly twenty feet by fifteen feet. Not a terribly big painting job, but one that would take some time. "Let's see if we can get two coats on today," Shauna said. Brushes, rollers, and paint were all in place and set to go.

"Shouldn't be a problem," Mark replied, inspecting the area. He detected a delicious aroma emanating from the kitchen. "What smells so good?"

"I've got some ham in the oven," Shauna replied. "It's a big one, so I got an early start. You may as well stay for dinner, right?"

Mark had planned to take her out to dinner later, but upon consideration, he liked this idea better. He detected one potential complication, however. "When will the boys be coming home?" he asked warily.

"I've told them to stay out until the paint dries, and that it wouldn't be until the evening. I asked them to call first to make sure. So you can rest easy. We've got the whole place to ourselves. And with any luck, we'll make it an early dinner."

They got started, each working on opposite ends of the room. "This is a pretty color," Mark commented. Shauna had chosen a very light teal-green.

They both could feel the romantic and sexual tension building. There's plenty of time, Mark told himself. He knew that Shauna was looking forward to something more than the quickie approach they were forced to use at work. As was he.

By late morning, they had the first coat completed. Shauna checked on the ham in the oven, which by now had filled the house with an irresistible aroma that even overpowered the odor of drying paint. "Needs to cook a little bit longer," she said, popping it back in.

Shauna flipped on the radio in the kitchen, just in time to catch the weather forecast. "It sounds like we'll be getting some snow later," she said as Mark entered the room. "More than they were calling for earlier."

"Hmm," Mark replied, mulling over the situation. He looked out the window; the sun had disappeared and the sky was now overcast. "It definitely looks like snow. Do you think you ought to warn your sons and tell them to get home ahead of the storm?" He tried to mask his disappointment; he sensed that the impending snowfall would cause them to end their time together prematurely.

"Let me give them a call," Shauna replied distantly. She too had similar thoughts on her mind.

While Shauna was on the phone, Mark excused himself and went into the other room. He took out his cell phone and called Julie's hotel. Not finding her there, he left a message, telling her that there was a snowstorm on the way back home, to check for possible delays with her return flight tomorrow, and that he would be out all afternoon doing some shopping in advance of the storm. He breathed a little easier, knowing that he could relax on that front. For now, anyway.

Back in the kitchen, Shauna had some interesting news. "My sons have asked for permission to stay overnight at their friend's house if the weather gets too bad," she said with a laugh. "Imagine that. This friend of theirs has a new video game system, and they're already looking forward to spending the entire night in front of the TV. And they're also talking about using some of their hard-earned money to get a system of their own."

While they waited for the first coat to dry, she produced a bag of pretzels and some chips, pouring them into a bowl. They sat there and chatted for a while, discussing the challenges of raising teenagers.

"Your sons sound like great kids," Mark commented. "One, they ask for permission before staying overnight at a friend's house. Two, they're addicted to video games and not something more dangerous. And three, they have jobs and can buy their own game system, instead of expecting to have it handed to them."

The more they talked, the more Mark was filled with admiration for Shauna. He'd raised one son with Julie's help, and knew how hard it was. Without spousal support and with considerably less financial resources, Shauna was in the process of raising three boys and seemed to be doing a wonderful job.

Impulsively, almost unconsciously, he found himself standing behind her as she sat. He leaned over and gently caressed and massaged her shoulders. He moved her braided hair aside and planted a soft kiss on the back of her neck. Shauna's hand found its way up and alongside his face, and she patted his cheek gently. "We still have some painting to do," she said with a wink.

"Yes we do," Mark responded as they both headed out to finish the job. For once, they had time to slow down and savor the process.

Julie locked the door to her hotel room and headed down the hall toward the elevator. A couple of adult members of the orchestra's traveling entourage would be picking her up outside the lobby. Tonight's concert was a few hours away, and Julie was in a much better frame of mind. Last night's performance had been a smashing success; the kids had played their hearts out. This was in spite of the fact that Julie's last-minute substitution had brought about a few program changes, and necessitated a certain amount of ad-libbing. But they had pulled it off, and quite a bit of acclaim would no doubt be coming Julie's way when she arrived back home. "Maybe I should push for a bonus," she said under her breath, and then giggled quietly at the unlikelihood of the cheapskates in the district office suddenly acquiring a generous propensity.