Chapter 2

Megan saw a commercial on TV. She didn't know what they were trying to sell, but she was fascinated by the little boy who heard his father say he would miss the boy's face while he was gone on a trip. The little boy promptly loaded every picture of himself he could find into his father's luggage for him to find when he checked into the hotel room at his destination. Megan wanted to do that too.

When Kyle found her, Megan had the two albums full of pictures of her and her little brother's earliest days ready to put into one of her mother's suitcases, along with a dozen framed portraits of the two children. Kyle smiled, instantly recognizing what the little girl was up to. He explained to Megan she had a great idea, but all of these photographs would be too heavy for her mother to carry.

The youngster understood "heavy." A slender little girl, almost everything was too heavy for her. She quickly gave up on her desire that her mom take all the pictures with her. Instead, they decided on one framed 8X10 of each child. Kyle was holding the one of Todd in his hand while he reopened one of Peggy's bags. Megan demanded hers go into the other one, the larger of the two pieces already packed and sitting on the bed, and Kyle couldn't think of any reason why not, though he would have put both in a single case had he been doing it. He ran the dual zipper back on both bags so the photos could be included in his wife's luggage.

He turned over several items of clothing to find a nesting place so the glass front on the picture would be cushioned. He was patting some lacy undergarments back into place when a thought struck him. He looked closer. The suitcase contained virtually every one of Peggy's delicate, sheer nightgowns folded precisely and placed carefully in neat stacks. There was a big mound of bikini panties and her only two thong panties, one of which she hadn't yet worn, to his knowledge. Thigh stockings, sexy bras, and a variety of small clutch purses filled the case to the brim.

Suspiciously, he unzipped and looked in the garment bag hanging on the closet door and found three evening gowns and cocktail dresses along with several business outfits. In the small overnight case, he found all of Peggy's makeup and her jewelry case with her best necklace--the one she almost never wore for him, though he thought the string of pearls looked fantastic nestled against her tanned neck. There was a small plastic bag tucked into one corner of the jewelry case.

"Mommy, mommy... come an' see what I did." Megan ran downstairs calling for her mother. "I put my and Todd's pictures in your suit... case," she proclaimed proudly.

Kyle could hear her all the way back upstairs in the bedroom. He stood and walked to the chest of drawers. There was an easy chair against the wall just there and he sat down, waiting for his wife to appear in the doorway. He could hear her coming. Peggy was scolding Megan for messing with her luggage. Her voice sounded anxious.

When she came into the bedroom, she didn't see Kyle at first. He was partially hidden by the bulk of the chest of drawers and he held himself still. Peggy's voice altered, becoming more conciliatory when she didn't see her husband beside the open luggage.

"Care to explain, Peggy?" Kyle asked quietly. Peggy flinched when he spoke, jerking around to face him while he was still in the process of standing. Her face was pinched and white. A guilty defiance began to build on her features.

"Explain what?" she said, stalling. Kyle's lips twisted with annoyance. He saw Megan just inside the door and didn't say anything. Only just barely avoiding shouldering his wife aside, he ostentatiously repositioned Megan's 8X10 in the middle of Peggy's carefully folded nightgowns and zipped the luggage closed.

"There!" he said dramatically. "Megan, yours and Todd's pictures are going with your Mom on her trip," he assured her. Grinning happily, Megan raced out of the room and was soon plunging down the staircase to find her brother and let him know what she'd done. She was that way. She never did anything at a slow pace.

Kyle stood back and stared at his wife. She was someone he didn't know anymore. He wished someone would introduce them so they could get on with their lives.

"What's going on, Peggy?" he asked.

Peggy had been taught the old axiom by her mother that the best defense is a good offense. She followed that advice as often as she could.

"Nothing's going on," she answered firmly. "What's wrong? Why all these questions?"

"Peggy, you've got all your best evening wear all packed up and ready to go," Kyle remarked, "along with your best jewelry, all the sexy underwear you own and two pair of dancing shoes. Every other business trip I've seen you go on, you've taken an old flannel t-shirt thing to sleep in and told me it was all you needed. You've got enough stuff here to go out every night of your stay and then get into your sexiest nightgowns to keep on partying. That is what you have in mind, isn't it, Peggy?" His wife had begun shaking her head no before he was half finished.

"No, that's not what I have in mind," she retorted. "Look, in case you haven't noticed it, I'm moving up in the firm. I have to be ready to attend formal... functions at a moment's notice and I have to look good when I do. That's part of being in management, you know." Her voice was challenging. She figured she had a good argument to throw at him. "And I wanted to take my nightgowns... hell, I don't know... because I just did," she added.

Kyle didn't bother to ask about the sexy underwear and thigh highs. He took the plastic bag from the bureau top where he had tossed it earlier and opened it slowly. He threw the pack of twelve condoms on the bed in front of his beloved wife. Her eyes followed the arc the package followed in the air. When it settled on the bed, she recognized what it was and her face flushed a brilliant crimson.

"I... I don't know where those came from," she said. She must have heard how lame it sounded even as she said it. Kyle took the two sheets of paper from the bag and pretended to read them.

"Well, the cash register receipt is dated yesterday, my dear... and this copy of a credit card receipt has our Visa credit card number on it," he told her in icy tones. His wife wilted, sinking to a seat beside her two bags.

"Kyle," she almost whispered, "you've got to see it with my eyes... please." Kyle looked at her, aghast at what she was saying. She wanted him to agree she had a right to go off and fuck some guy because she still considered he had deliberately had sex with Ann.

"Kyle, I've to get even... that's all I want... I just want us to be equal again so we can get beyond this, honey... okay?" she said plaintively. She was pleading for understanding. It occurred to him almost instantly that only her mother would, or could, understand Peggy's need. He shook his head.

"Peggy, look... whatever Ann and I did was totally by accident. Neither of us had any intention of cheating on you and Paul. It... was... an... accident! Nothing more, nothing less. If you go off to Chicago with the idea in mind that you're going to sleep with some man to "get even," you're doing something way... way beyond what Ann and I did.

"You would be cheating on me in such a cold-hearted, calculatingly cruel, and selfish way that it would end our marriage instantly. Is that what you want, Peggy? Do you want a divorce?" Kyle asked seriously. Peggy's face grew pale.

"NO," she said forcefully. "I do not want a divorce. I just want us to be equals in this marriage, Kyle Aaron. We have to be equal or there will come a day I will get a divorce, do you understand that."

"Fine," Kyle answered. "You had a car accident in the Prairie View parking lot way back when, doing something you shouldn't have been doing. I had an accident on Ann and Paul's backyard deck, doing something I shouldn't have been doing. Guess what, dear? We're even! We're equal again." His tone was sarcastic. Peggy glared at him.

"Those aren't the same and you know it," she said hotly.

"You're right," Kyle retorted. "When you were buying a dress we couldn't afford, you lied to me. You told me you wouldn't buy that damned dress and you got caught by having a car wreck.

"That's the big difference. You lied. I haven't though. I haven't lied to you about a damn thing and Ann and I were totally up front about what happened. Actually, dear, by your standards I should have done something really nasty to you for buying that dress, getting in an accident, and making our insurance rates go up. It's not too late though. What do you think I should do to you huh?"

"I took the dress back," Peggy said weakly. Kyle snorted.

"The damage... to my trust in you and to the car... had already been done, Peggy," Kyle said quietly. "I repeat... what should I do to you for lying to me and wrecking the car?"

He watched as his wife shook her head helplessly. Her eyes were wide, the rage glowing deep inside them. Kyle gave up. With the training her mother had given her, Peggy could no more answer his questions than she could sprout wings and fly.

"Yeah... well... I don't know either, Peggy," he said somberly. "I'll say it again... do you want a divorce?" he asked. "I'll pretty much understand if you do," Kyle told her. "I won't agree with you, but I'd understand it," he added.

Peggy shook her head again. Her eyes were brimming with tears now. He didn't know if they were tears of rage or whether she was distraught at the mention of a divorce.

"In that case, Peggy," he said, "I'm not going to let you do something that would absolutely make it impossible for us to do anything but get a divorce. I will not let you go to Chicago and climb into bed with some guy so you can "get even," do you hear me?"

It had to be said, but it was probably a mistake. Peggy recovered quickly while he spoke. She thought she could put together a good line of defense on this subject.

She ignored the evidence of the condoms, and her immediate reaction to seeing Kyle toss them on the bed. She'd come close to admitting their purpose at that moment. Now she swore she'd had no such idea in mind. What she'd said had just been an angry reaction to him badgering her and it took that path because his infidelity was always on her mind.

Actually, she said, she'd bought the condoms for Linda at work and forgotten to give them to her. Linda had a yeast infection and didn't want to give it to her husband and she'd asked Peggy to pick up some protection from the drugstore for her. Peggy had been so rushed yesterday afternoon she didn't remember to take the condoms out of the bag containing the makeup she'd bought for the trip. She'd meant to give them to Linda yesterday afternoon. It was all very simple and Kyle shouldn't be getting so hyper about a silly memory lapse.

Kyle knew the medical reason was bogus. His older sister had once let it slip she'd asked a doctor once when she suffered from the same problem. There was no way a man could be infected that way. Kyle said nothing though. His wife had passed a new threshold in lying and he was having trouble getting accustomed to it.

Peggy saw the disbelieve on Kyle's face and it infuriated her. She started in on him, bringing up Ann again but simultaneously denying she was thinking of getting revenge.

All right, she said. She took all the nightgowns and sexy undergarments from the luggage and stuffed them back into drawers in her bureau. Two of the evening gowns and the cocktail dress went back in the closet. She'd prove to Kyle she wasn't planning anything, she said. When she was through, everything fit in the largest of the suitcases and the garment bag. She put in one additional pantsuit she hadn't had room for before.

"You understand, don't you, that I'll see any purchases you make in Chicago on the credit card or bank statements?" he said quietly. Peggy's face went dead white. He knew he'd figured out why she was surrendering so quickly and easily.

"You're going to regret the day--"

Peggy broke off whatever she had been about to say. She crammed her flannel nightshirt into the case and viciously zipped it closed. Dodging around Kyle, she carried the heavy bag out the bedroom door and parked it on the landing close to the stairwell. She'd tumble down the staircase if she tried to carry it downstairs and she knew it. Without looking back, she continued down the stairs with her back held abnormally stiff and unforgiving.

"Brad! How's it going, pardner?" Kyle asked one of his oldest friends. He had gone out to the garage to make this cell phone call. He didn't want Peggy listening in. It would only make her angrier.

"Good... good... how 'bout you, big guy?" Brad asked jovially. He had good reason to be in a good humor. He'd built up a law practice from scratch to a firm with fourteen senior partners and scads of junior attorneys, legal assistants, interns, and what not. Kyle didn't think Brad knew anymore how many people worked for him.

"I'm doing pretty good," Kyle said. "Not as well as some... but better than others." Brad chuckled. Kyle had never tried hard to accumulate a hoard of money, but he owned the Fox TV franchise in town, a radio station, and had an option on two more TV stations outside the metropolitan area. Okay... most of the money had come from the trust fund his late father had set up, but he hadn't lost any of that seed money. In fact, he was doing quite well in a low-key sort of way.

Brad had done better, but both were happy with their accomplishments and, more importantly, they remained close friends since they'd met in elementary school. Kyle wasn't Brad's biggest client, but he was the most valued.

Their association had been strengthened when Kyle became the blocking fullback running interference for Brad playing running back. That had been a long time ago--back in junior high and then in high school. They'd been a good team then; they still were. Each knew secrets about the other no one else was aware of.

"We need to get together for a good feed," Brad remarked. "What say you and Peggy come over for a little barbeque Sunday... how 'bout that, son?" Kyle hesitated

"Well... that might not be for the best," Kyle said slowly. "I'm having to call you because there's... well, something about Peggy that I need to discuss with you." Brad instantly changed gears and readied himself to work through a problem with his friend.

"Damn, I'm sorry to hear that," Brad said briskly. "What can I do for you, Number 42?" That had been Kyle's jersey number. Brad had worn 22. Brad was reminding Kyle of their many years of close friendship. It was a comfort.

"Well... it's not to the stage where I have to hire you to represent me in divorce court... not yet," Kyle said. "But I was hoping I ask for a favor from you, if you don't mind."

"Name it," Brad answered. He said nothing else.

"You are on good terms with old Jake Bruckmeister, right?" Kyle asked. Bruckmeister and Son was the accounting firm Peggy worked for as a senior analyst.

"Sure," Brad returned quickly. "He was one of Dad's closest friends before he died. One of his granddaughters is a clerk in my office during summer breaks from law school."

"Well, I was wondering if you could call him and relay a concern I have... that the morality clauses in his firm's employee contracts are not being... uh... enforced as rigorously as they could be." Kyle was speaking carefully. He'd rehearsed the words in his mind. He hoped they were coming out the way he wanted them to.

"If you could say, for instance, that I had some reliable information that... uh Mrs. Peggy Whitely and one of the guys going with her to the Chicago conference are thinking of hooking up... and you could say that would... mmmmmnnn... let's say call the company's policies into question... well, the effectiveness of those morality clauses. They really should be prohibiting such a thing..."

"Got it," Brad said with alacrity. "When does Peggy leave?"

"Three hours," Kyle replied.

"Plenty of time," Brad said. "You don't want her to go?"

"Nope," Kyle answered. "She had a pack of condoms in her luggage and she is still bound and determined she's going to get revenge for that thing with Ann Blakely I told you about. You remember?"

"Yeah... 'nough said," Brad remarked. "I'll make the call when we get off the line. I'll try to see that it doesn't get back to her that you're the one making this happen too... but you're going to need to get ready for some fireworks anyway," he said in an amused tone.

Kyle hadn't thought of that. He'd been intent on salvaging what he could of his marriage. He hadn't come to terms with her escalation of lying yet. It was true she usually threw a fit when things didn't go her way. There was no denying Peggy was going to be livid whether she found out about Kyle's part in the cancellation of the trip or not. The thought bothered him, but he was still going to work on saving the marriage. He sighed. It was loud enough for Brad to hear. Brad chuckled.

"Hey, I appreciate it, Brad," Kyle said sincerely. It was time to end the phone call and let his friend do what he could in Kyle's behalf.

"Not a problem," Brad protested. "This is nothing. If we have to file for divorce... well, we'll call it even for that time you blocked the defensive end in the Seguin game, okay?" The lineman had been about to cut Brad in two when Kyle had taken him out with a nasty little block that left the defensive end laying in a heap the field.

"I would still owe you for the linebacker on the next play though," Brad continued. The linebacker had been intent on getting even for the humiliation of the defensive end. When Kyle took his legs out from under him, he'd swapped ends, cartwheeling in mid-air and landed, dazed, flat on his back. Brad had dodged left and raced down the sideline for a tying touchdown. Kyle laughed. It was his first since his daughter had made him chuckle earlier.

"Okay, okay," Kyle said. "Someday you got to let those go, friend."

"Huh-uh," Brad replied quickly. "I view the preservation of my wonderful, if no longer perfect body, as a really great thing... and you were in charge of preserving it for many a season, big guy."

Kyle laughed again and changed the subject to something more neutral. They talked for another few minutes. They agreed to meet for lunch somewhere in town in a week or two. They decided Kyle would call Brad when he knew what his schedule would be and then they ended the conversation. Kyle punched the off button to kill the connection. Thoughtfully, he strolled back into the house, dropping his cell phone into his right front pocket as he walked.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Whitley? This is Sam Macmillan."

"Hi, Sam. What can I do for you?" Peggy asked. Sam was her immediate supervisor, a man she disliked for being the man he was, as well as for being in a position in the company she wanted. She knew she could do a better job than Macmillan was.

"Well, Junior asked me to call and let you know you won't be representing Bruckmeister and Son in Chicago, so... that's what I'm doing," Sam said succinctly.

"Junior" was Jake Bruckmeister, Jr. He had been working his way up through the various offices within the firm, obviously being groomed to take over when his father finally agreed to retirement. At the moment, Junior was running the corporate analysis group where Peggy worked. Generally speaking, whatever Junior said needed doing got done very quickly. No one wanted to irritate the future CEO and president. On the other hand, he rarely bothered himself with such mundane tasks as determining the selection of attendees at minor training conferences and seminars. Peggy was incensed; her anger flared immediately at the interference from the man.

"Are you there, Mrs. Whitely?" Macmillan asked.

"You're taking me off the trip?" Peggy asked in a strangled voice. "Why? Is there something I don't know about?" This last was delivered with suspicion.

"No, not that I know of," Sam replied. "No one's told me anything," he added. "But I will need for you to come into the office tomorrow morning as usual since you aren't going... or would you like to take some annual vacation time?" Peggy heard it now. She could hear the amusement in his voice.

Sam wasn't a bit dismayed one of his people wasn't going to the training. She could picture him chuckling quietly to himself at her misfortune. It enraged her even more than she already was.

In his office on the fourth floor of the downtown office building, Sam Macmillan was indeed smiling into space. He was more than a little pleased Peggy Whitely wasn't going on the trip. Peggy had no idea the word had gotten around she wanted Sam's job. With the lack of training this conference would have provided, he would be fully justified in downgrading her quarterly performance report due next Thursday.

"Okay... I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning," Peggy trilled into the phone. She wasn't about to let this Macmillan creep see how dismayed she was. She pressed the disconnect button on her cell phone and stared out the kitchen window.

This meant she and Roger, the only unmarried guy of the four who were going to Chicago, weren't going to find any time alone in a hotel room so she could finally get even with her husband. Roger hadn't known anything about it, of course, but he would have gotten lucky the second night in the hotel. Peggy doubted he would have turned down the opportunity. Tough luck; he wouldn't be getting any now. Then her eyes narrowed as she thought of her career. She'd been scheduled for, and needed, this training for her next step increase in salary. That was going to be delayed now, and it wouldn't look good in her personnel file. It pissed her off.