Bertrice Small - Private Pleasures

"Honey," she said, calling out for Kyle, "I'm home!"

"What the hell do you mean, she can't sign the papers today?" Jeff Buckley's face was beet red with his anger. "I warned you that the bitch would try something cute if you didn't make her sign last autumn. What are you going to do about this, Kramer? I've paid you a fortune so far, and I'm still married to Nora."

Raoul Kramer looked at his client with what he hoped was an emotionless face. He didn't like Jeff Buckley, and the more he knew him, the less he liked him. He had taken his case as a favor to Jeff's senior partner, with whom he had roomed at college. It should have been a quiet divorce. His voice was cool as he spoke. "Your wife is in the hospital, Buckley. She is unconscious. Her attorney found her this morning when he went to pick her up, so they could drive into the city together."

"Is she going to die?" If she died, everything would be his.

"They don't know yet. They don't even know what's the matter. You would have to speak with Rick Johnson, her attorney. You know him. You were neighbors," the lawyer said.

"So what happens now?" Jeff asked. "Can I get the divorce?"

"Not until she regains consciousness or dies," Raoul Kramer said. "The judge ordered that we had to have a settlement before she would hear the case in its entirety."

"Get another judge, then," Jeff said.

"Not possible. You haven't got the grounds for it. No judge will grant you a divorce from Mrs. Buckley without that settlement being signed. You're stuck for the time being, I'm afraid. Besides, how would it look if you divorced her now?"

"She isn't on my health insurance anymore. How long will the hospital keep her under those circumstances?" Jeff wanted to know.

"You took her off your health insurance?" Kramer was astounded. "That was part of the agreement. You have to pay her health insurance along with the alimony for five years. When the hell did you do that?"

"Months ago. I asked my assistant Carol to arrange it," Jeff said nervously. "Is this going to cost me?"

"Oh, yeah," Raoul Kramer said. "It's going to cost you big-time. You take the kids off too?" But he knew the answer to that even as he spoke.

"Yeah, but they never get sick. And I never knew Nora to get sick in all the years we were married. Isn't there some law or something that says I can refuse to pay for her care?" Jeff asked.

Raoul Kramer picked up his phone and punched in a number.

"Who are you calling?" Jeff wanted to know.

"Your assistant. Carol? Raoul Kramer. Did you remove Mrs. Buckley and the kids from Jeff's health insurance? I see. Yes. You're a smart lady. If you ever get tired of working for your boss, call me." He laughed. "Thanks." And put his phone down. "You owe Carol a big one, Buckley. When she read the draft of the settlement for you, she saw that Mrs. Buckley would get health insurance for five years. She arranged it, and in doing so has saved your ass. For God's sake, don't do anything else without checking with me first."

"So it isn't going to cost me?" Jeff wanted reassurance.

"You're home free," Raoul Kramer replied.

"But I can't get the divorce until Nora either wakes up or croaks, right?"

"Right," Kramer said. What a moron this guy was. He expected the ultrarich, whom he usually acted for, to be tight with a dollar, but this guy was just a dumb boomer who had made more money than his father and thought he was rich. "I would suggest you go out to Egret Pointe and get Nora's prognosis from her doctors. Let me know how she's doing, and we'll go from there." His tone was dismissive, and even Jeff got the point.

He stood up. "Yeah. I'll go see what's happening." While driving out to Egret Pointe, Jeff Buckley wondered if Nora would live or die. Kramer was right. The divorce had to be put on hold until they knew. How would it look to his conservative partners at the agency if he divorced his sick wife? More important, how would it look to their clients? There was so much to consider, not to mention Heidi. Heidi was not going to be happy about this delay. There had already been too many delays. He put himself out on a limb with that damned co-op in order to make her happy and to keep her from leaving him. He couldn't bear it if she left him. Heidi was the best damned sex he had ever had. She knew how to thrill a man and keep him coming back for more. He couldn't lose her.

Because Nora had not really been a part of his life in the city, he had been able to keep his divorce discreet, more or less. His partners, older men married for years, hadn't been happy, but he had brought them around, selling them a bill of goods that salved their consciences, making him the victim in the matter. But they wanted everything to be circumspect, controlled, and careful. It was to be quick with no, or at least minimal, gossip involved. There were their clients to consider. It was the youngest of the senior partners, Mr. Archibald Wickham, who had suggested Raoul Kramer. And he had spoken to Raoul himself before sending Jeff to see him.

And he'd done a good job, Jeff had to admit, even if he hated giving up a penny to Nora. Heidi was right. Nora had been living off of him for twenty-six years. In the beginning she had been just the wife he wanted. She was just like his mother: docile, quiet-spoken and frugal. She had made a beautiful home, and kept it nicely. She had produced two children, a daughter and a son. They were intelligent and well-mannered. But as the years had passed he realized that Nora wasn't at all what he wanted. She bored him. And in bed she had not been inspiring at all. How could a woman be so damned dull? he wondered. And now the old cow had thrown a monkey wrench in his plans by getting sick. If she didn't recover from whatever it was that she had, he was going to be stuck with her for the rest of his life. Would he lose Heidi? But maybe Nora would die.

He was so deep in thought that he almost missed the parkway turnoff to Egret Pointe, but he managed it, his brakes squealing just slightly as he cornered the turn. The hospital was nearby. He hadn't been to Egret Pointe General since J. J. was born. He swung into the lot and parked his sports car. He found a Pink Lady manning the desk.

"I am Jeff Buckley. My wife, Nora, was brought in this morning."

"Buckley. Buckley," the Pink Lady repeated, going down the list. "Ah, here it is. Buckley. She's in the ICU, but no visitors, Mr. Buckley. Still, if you're her hubby, I suppose no one would mind. Three West is the ICU. Take this card." She handed him an index card with the words ICU VISITOR stamped on it in black. The edges of the card were frayed.

"Thank you," he said, giving her his best smile.

The elevator opened on the third floor. Immediately in front of him was a sign with arrows pointing in various directions. THREE WEST was the heading. CCU was to the left, and ICU was to the right. Jeff turned right, and hurried through a pair of swinging doors.

"Jeff!" He turned to see a small lounge. Rick and Carla were in it. He turned again, and went in to greet them. Carla just glared, but said nothing. "What happened to her?" Jeff asked.

"They don't know," Rick said quietly. "I was to pick her up this morning to drive into town to Kramer's office. When she didn't show up, I called first but didn't get any answer, so I went over. I rang the bell. I knocked. I called her. Nothing. So I went back home and got a spare key. We all have keys for the other houses on the court," Rick explained, knowing Jeff wouldn't have known that. "I let myself into the house. Both cats shot by me. We'll have to get them in later. I called her name, but the place was as silent as a tomb. So I started searching the house. I went upstairs first, and when I couldn't find her, I came back down to look around there. I found her in the den.

"She was in her chair, in front of the television. It was still on, but no picture. She must have ordered a movie, and whatever happened to her happened while she was watching it. Her teacup was tipped over. There was no sign of forced entry, or violence. I called emergency, and they brought her to the hospital," Rick concluded.

"Did she try to commit suicide?" Jeff asked. "Did you see any pills?"

"You know Nora doesn't take anything stronger than aspirin," Carla finally spoke up, "or maybe you don't. You've never been around much. Besides, Nora wouldn't kill herself over you." The last word was said in a scornful tone.

"What do the doctors say?" Jeff wanted to know.

"We're waiting for Dr. Rhone now," Rick answered. "He's the ER guy."

"I'll wait with you," Jeff said.

Carla made a rather rude noise but said nothing more for the time being.

The doctor arrived. He looked to Rick and spoke, but Rick quickly introduced Jeff to the physician, who said, "I didn't realize Mrs. Buckley's husband was still alive."