Chapter 5

"So, who do you like in the Final Four, Dad?" Ted asked. He'd just produced the NCAA basketball tournament bracket sheet he'd filled out for his dormitory pool; Mark looked it over. Julie sat nearby. Here we are, Julie thought. The three of us, crowded around the dinner table, with plates long ago emptied, making small talk. The way it used to be, during happier times.

It was spring break, and Ted had opted to spend the week back at home, rather than fleeing to Florida or other exotic destinations with party-minded college companions. This was no small relief to Mark and Julie, although Ted had already mentioned the possibility of such excursions later on in his college life. But for now, here he was, and as so often happens, the presence of another household member had temporarily pushed other, less pleasant issues into the background. Both mother and father were overjoyed to have Ted back home again, and for now, this gave them a commonality.

Mark, especially, wanted to bond with Ted during this week. He knew that he'd been distant during Ted's last visit, over the Christmas holidays; and subsequent phone conversations had led him to believe that Ted was quite cognizant of that fact. Mark had made arrangements well in advance to ensure that his busy agenda wouldn't cut into quality time with his son. Sports had always been a common area of interest for them both, and Mark had procured a pair of tickets to a Sixers-Celtics game later in the week.

Mark examined Ted's pool sheet. "Nope. Not even close. Got another blank bracket form?" he said with a laugh that reflected the spirit of friendly competitiveness between them when it came to such matters.

"I think I have one somewhere in my luggage," Ted replied. "But it's too late to enter our pool, anyhow. The first round is over."

"So we'll have a contest, just between us two, for the rest of the tournament." Mark declared. "When -- not if, but when -- I win, you'll wear a Celtics T-shirt around campus for a whole day." Ted was a diehard Sixers fan; while Mark had been transformed into a Celtics fan through attending school in New England.

Julie, knowing what was about to transpire, stood up from the table and began to pick up the empty plates and used silverware. "I get it. This is guy stuff," she laughed. "I'm outta here." But she was happy to see Mark and Ted acting like father and son once again.

In response to Mark's challenge, Ted asked, "And if I win?"

"In the extremely unlikely event that happens, then I'll wear a Sixers tie clip to work one day. We'll buy both the shirt and the clip at the game. Fair enough?"

"No fair. I have to wear a shirt, and you only have to wear a teeny little tie clip."

"Take it or leave it," Mark replied with a grin.

"Mom!" Ted called in Julie's direction. Julie was now in the kitchen, loading up the dishwasher. "You make sure he wears that tie clip to work after I kick his butt in this pool."

Julie giggled, thoroughly loving the playful trash-talking between the two of them. "I'll send you a picture if you like."

"Whose side are you on, anyhow?" Mark called into the kitchen.

"Leave me out of this. I'm just the peacemaker and the picture-taker," came Julie's reply.

She closed the dishwasher and turned it on. For now, she was content. She listened to Mark and Ted continuing their lively discussion. A transient lull in a gathering storm, Julie thought. But it was one worth savoring.

The following morning, Mark was in his office, working on a presentation for a group meeting later in the day. He'd been distracted, as was typical of late, and had put it off till the last minute.

Ted had planned to visit some old high school buddies today; he'd gotten up early and dropped Mark off at work. Mark had some reservations about letting his teenage son borrow his car for the day; this was a first. He reasoned, however, that it would be quite an ego boost for his son to meet up with his friends, whom he hadn't seen in a while, behind the wheel of a BMW. Besides, Mark thought, Ted is mature for his age, and living away at college has helped him grow up.

Mark's mind shifted gears. He was becoming more aware of the fact that his secret life was impinging on his everyday responsibilities to some degree. He sensed that Julie knew something was going on. He was finding it more and more difficult to stay focused on his work duties; something that had never been a problem in the past. The effort required to keep things hidden from all concerned, and keeping his stories straight, was becoming considerable. Each of the women in his life had different schedules and different needs. As he became more and more involved with each, the borders between the partitions in his life grew more blurred in his mind. This, he knew, was a formula for trouble. And he realized that soon, he'd reach a point where there were not enough hours in the day, and not enough dollars in his paycheck.

Recently, he'd taken a few additional measures to facilitate the whole process. He had removed a number of secret items from his tool chest in the basement; it just wasn't a secure enough hiding place to suit him anymore. He'd cleared out an entire drawer in his office at work, and moved the questionable letters, pictures, gifts, and assorted other sundries there. The drawer stayed locked at all times.

He also had procured a couple of credit cards, on his own and independent of Julie, for expenses that he needed to keep concealed. He'd gone to the post office and rented out a mail box to receive the monthly statements. And he'd learned to make good use of the paper shredder down the hall.

However, with Ted in town for the week, he felt less threatened and paranoid. And he was determined to make up for any family oversights, at least during Ted's brief stay. He'd informed Mandy ahead of time that cybersex was out of the question during this week. And being a wife and mother herself, Mandy understood.

He'd been able to keep his daily appointment with Shauna earlier this morning. The day and night they'd spent snowed in together had changed the dynamics of their interaction; they'd taken things to a whole new level. It was now as much of an emotional connection as a sexual connection. Frequently, their meetings consisted of nothing more than conversation, exclusive of sex. That was fine with Mark; he enjoyed her company any way he could get it, and he had plenty of other outlets for meeting his own sexual needs. Over the past several days, however, he was beginning to get decidedly mixed vibes from Shauna, and he sensed that it was somehow connected to the changing nature of their relationship.

But with the exception of keeping everything out of Julie's sight, by far Mark's biggest challenge in his non-stop juggling act was Lauren, who was still pushing the idea of a vacation together. She'd immediately nixed his suggestion that she accompany him to San Diego. "What will I do while you're at the meetings?" she'd protested. "If I'm going away with you, I want you all to myself."

Mark had grudgingly admitted that she had a point. He then asked her where she'd like to go, and immediately came to regret that move.

"Paris," she replied with a giggle. "The most romantic city in the world. I've always wanted to go there."

Mark knew there was no possible way he'd be able to make that happen, but was at a loss to find a method of adequately communicating that to Lauren. "I don't speak the language," was his lame response.

"I'm fluent in French," Lauren replied. "Don't worry. I'll do the talking for both of us."

Mark groaned inwardly. He knew that would allow Lauren to have complete control over everything, and he also knew that was exactly what she wanted.

But fortunately, Lauren's fickle nature caused her to soon grow tired of the Paris idea. Her next suggestion was the Bahamas, which would have been only slightly less difficult to manage. "How about somewhere in this country?" Mark laughed. "The good ol' USA has plenty of nice vacation spots. And don't say Hawaii ... I have a limited number of vacation days, you know. Same with you ... neither of us can afford to spend one whole day for travel each way."

Lauren, at least for now, had settled on South Florida, with its world-class beaches and nightclub scene. Mark was in the process of trying to find a time and a means to pull all this off, but hadn't come up with anything yet. He knew that it would be advisable to do it before summer hit, with the oppressive Florida humidity and frequent heavy downpours.

The ringing telephone, technology's interrupter of daydreaming, jarred Mark back to the present. It was Julie, and she had a bundle of news.

"I have another band trip coming up, again on short notice. Early next week," her voice came breathlessly into the phone.

"Where are you going this time? When?" Mark replied, his sudden confusion coming across more like irritation.

"It's just overnight. Out in western Pennsylvania; it's a five-hour bus trip. Thank goodness I won't be getting on a plane again. It's an evening performance at another high school, and rather than driving home in the middle of the night, they're putting us up in hotel rooms. Leaving Monday afternoon, arriving back home sometime after noon on Tuesday."

"Do you have time to put together another program?" Mark asked, recalling the last-minute panic involved with her previous trip.

"We'll just use the same one we used in Atlanta. The kids have it down pat. No worries at all on that front."

Mark didn't know what to make of this latest development; he stared into space for several minutes after he'd hung up the phone, mulling over the possibilities. Clearly, another opportunity lay before him. But what to do with it?

Eventually, he came around. "I have a meeting shortly, and I'm expected to give a talk," he muttered under his breath, quietly admonishing himself. "I can figure it out later."

It was late the following morning, and Mark had ventured out into the lab to run a couple of experiments on his own. Usually, he delegated his associates to do this type of work, but the young fellow who'd dropped the flask on that earlier occasion had more than enough to do at present. As for his other associate, the internet-addicted woman, Mark simply didn't trust her with this assignment; he deemed it too important.

After mixing the chemicals, Mark removed his gloves, washed his hands, hung his lab coat on a hook near the door to his office, strolled inside and closed the door. He took off his safety glasses and rubbed his eyes. Finally, he allowed himself to contemplate the alternatives available to him next Monday and Tuesday.