Kitabı oku: «In Confidence», sayfa 3
Rachel stared at the muddy sneakers in her hand, thinking back to that time. “Jack just didn’t strike me as suicidal, Mom. I must have spent a hundred hours going over those last few weeks of his life. There was something troubling him, I knew that. His grades were slipping and he seemed distracted. His teachers had noticed a change in him. Of course, he was adjusting to a new school in a new state. Big difference between New York and Texas. And his parents were recently divorced, so he had a lot to contend with. It made sense that he was unhappy. Almost any teenager would be. I had a talk with him the day before he…before it happened. Why didn’t I see it coming? If I could have just—”
“Could just what, Rachel? Live that day over? Be all things to all kids?” Dinah removed her socks. “This wasn’t the first tragedy that will happen on your watch, hon. And it won’t be the last. Cam is unable to let it go and maybe that’s understandable, but you’re in a different place. You must let it go.”
Rachel drew in a deep breath and managed a fleeting smile. “I know.” She scooped up the overalls that Dinah had tossed on the bed. “I’ll put these in the washing machine for you and then I’m going to make you an omelette before I leave. And don’t bother arguing, Mom.”
“If you must.” Dinah rolled her eyes and pulled her T-shirt over her head. “May as well throw this in with everything else.” Then, as if still trying to put her finger on something else in Rachel’s mood, she added, “Is everything okay with you and Ted?”
Rachel stopped with the washables bundled in her arms and smiled brightly. “Define ‘everything.”’
Dinah frowned in the act of donning a robe and looked hard at her. “You tell me, Rachel.”
“Maybe, as you say, Mom, I am feeling a little neglected.”
“Well, it’s about time,” Dinah said flatly. “You’ve been willing to put your own needs aside to accommodate Ted almost from the moment the two of you met. I’ll always resent that you dropped your own plans for medical school to help him get his M.D. and a specialty. And now, after all you’ve done—” Dinah was pacing, her hands waving and slashing with heartfelt emotion. It was no secret that she’d long believed Rachel’s sacrifice of her original plan for a career in medicine was a big mistake. She stopped suddenly. “You know what the problem is, Rachel? You’ve spoiled Ted rotten. You haven’t demanded enough from him. I’m happy to hear you finally say you’re feeling neglected. All you have to do now is tell him that.”
Rachel made a short, futile attempt to laugh. “Yeah, that’s all I have to do.”
Dinah gave her a hug. “Go home, hon. Forget my laundry and the omelette. Tend to your babies and then take a long, hot soak in the tub and practice how best to let him have it. I promise you won’t have another call to the ER about me.”
“You should have told me about the onset of hypoglycemia, Mother,” Rachel said with a chiding look.
“I know, but that would be just one more thing on your worry list.”
“You’re my mother. I’m supposed to worry about you.”
“Not if I can help it.” She gave Rachel a gentle shove toward the stairs. “Kiss the kids for me and tell that spoiled rotten husband of yours when he finally gets home that there’re going to be some changes made.”
Rachel wasn’t the only one thinking of changes. Ted stood at the glass doors in the master bedroom of the lake cabin in deep thought. Moonlight dancing on the surface of the lake hinted at the chill of the night, but inside it was cozy. He’d built a fire in the fireplace and had knocked back a couple of stiff drinks. It had helped erase the bad taste he had in his mouth over the scene with Rachel at the restaurant, but he had a headache now, not the beginning of a migraine, which struck him sometimes in the throes of stress or crisis, but a nagging, unpleasant nuisance of a headache. And the euphoria he usually felt when he was with Francine hadn’t quite anesthetized it.
He should be feeling good, he thought. The moment he’d dreaded for months had come and gone. Rachel knew about the affair now. She’d been shocked, as expected, and mad as hell, as she’d had a right. But all in all, it hadn’t been as difficult as it could have been. For a moment, in the parking lot, he’d thought she might turn really mean, but it hadn’t happened. There had been a horrific incident a couple of years ago in Houston when a woman caught her husband with another woman and after an argument in the parking lot of a swank restaurant, she’d climbed in her car and run him over. Not satisfied that she’d hurt him enough, she’d backed up and rolled over him again, killing him. No chance of that with Rachel. She was too practical to do something that would jeopardize the kids and their future. Or herself, for that matter.
Rubbing a hand over his face, he turned away from the view. The site for the cabin had been carefully chosen by Rachel when they’d decided to invest in real estate on the lake. She’d researched every lot available, looking for just the right one, and she’d hit a home run, as usual. She was good at that sort of thing. She managed time and her responsibilities so well that he often thought she could run the Pentagon if she wanted. The trouble was that she wasn’t what he wanted anymore. The type of person she’d been when he was in med school and then setting up the practice was okay, but now he wanted—needed—a woman who was more feminine, more hip, sexier. A woman who needed him and made him feel as if he was special. Sometimes he thought Rachel went for weeks without really looking at him. But when Francine gazed up at him, impressed by his opinions, interested in his experiences, and so damn responsive as a lover, God, he felt incredible.
She stood smiling at him now, shedding the black suit one piece at a time, moving slowly, her body language sensual and provocative. Apparently, she wasn’t feeling the same conflicting emotions as he about having their affair out in the open, but then they hadn’t faced the major hurdle of telling Walter yet. When she wriggled out of her skirt, all she had left were thigh-high stockings—black—a wisp of a bra and thong panties. When he looked at her delectable little ass in that thong, it never failed that his dick went hard and his mouth went dry.
Like a cat, Francine put a knee on the bed and with a playful growl began a provocative crawl over the mattress toward him. “You’re looking too serious, sugar,” she murmured, puckering her lips at him in a wind-kiss. “Get naked and let me make you smile.”
His brain went numb and his erection throbbed at the look of her stalking him across the bed, her sweet butt in the air and the heavy globes of her breasts threatening to burst out of that excuse for a bra. He knew she’d had breast enhancement, but it only made her more voluptuous, sexier. She was a wet dream come to life and she was his.
He pressed a palm against his erection and pushed thoughts of Rachel and Walter from his mind. Francine was across the bed now and her hands were at work unfastening his belt. Next, she’d have him freed of his pants, and with her already in position, one touch from her pink tongue would send him over the edge. He wondered if she gave Walter…
“Wait, Franny,” he told her as she reached for the zipper on his pants. “Hold on, baby.” He caught her hands and squeezed them, stopping her.
She looked up at him, moist lips parted. Seeing his expression, she sighed with resignation and rested her forehead against his abdomen. “What?” There was impatience in her voice. She didn’t like being interrupted.
“We need to talk about it, Franny.”
She moved away, drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Her sexy mouth was now in a pout. “What’s to discuss, Teddy? She saw us, she knows now. There’s no turning back. It’ll make everything easier.”
“How do you figure that?” he asked. “Walter will find out, my kids will soon know. Everyone in the practice will be buzzing with it. Hell, within twenty-four hours, all of Rose Hill will be buzzing with it, trust me.”
“They’ll get over it, Teddy,” she said, speaking as if he was slightly dim. Her way of focusing solely on herself made him uncomfortable sometimes.
“It was easier before when nobody knew but us, Francine. Complications will begin to multiply, big time. We need to be prepared.”
“For what?”
She couldn’t be as unconcerned by the consequences as she seemed, he thought. He drew a breath and spoke patiently. “What I’m trying to say is that both of us need to be on the same page, especially with Walter. He’ll have questions. We need to settle between us what we’re going to answer.”
“Forget Walter. I’ll think of something. Whatever he says, I’ll handle it.”
“He’s not going to accept you sleeping with me, Franny. You need to make him understand this isn’t just some meaningless affair that’ll play itself out if he’s patient. You need to tell him it’s serious between us.” Ted rubbed at a temple, now throbbing. Maybe it was the onset of a migraine. He wished for a couple of Darvon tablets, but he’d taken the last of them just a couple of days ago. “Has it occurred to you that Rachel may be talking to him right now?”
“Rachel wouldn’t do that,” Francine said. She lifted one long leg and began removing the black stockings. It was an invitation, but he still wanted to try to settle this. She dropped the nylons delicately onto the floor. “She’s too…”
“Too decent?”
“Yeah, decent. Too nice for the real world. People like Rachel will always get the short end of the stick.”
Ted felt a prickle of unease at her attitude. She was a maddening, irresistible mix of female charm, sexy allure and street smarts. And the package was captivating. It made him uncomfortable to admit it, but he felt almost enslaved. He couldn’t get enough of her.
Sensing she’d crossed a line, Francine reached out and, with a wicked little smile, ran a finger down the opening of his fly. “C’mon, you worry too much.”
He removed her hand and sat down beside her. “You don’t worry enough. We’ve got to talk about Walter. When he finds out, he’s going to be one pissed-off son of a bitch. I’m not sure he’ll be able to control himself. He’s crazy where you’re concerned.” As crazy as Ted himself was, which was another fact that worried him.
She unhooked her bra and tossed it on the floor. “Like I said, let me worry about controlling Walter, sugar.” Up on her knees now, she slipped her arms around him from behind and began unbuttoning his shirt. She got it off him and pressed her naked breasts against his back as her hands moved all over the front of him. “Hmm, I love doing this,” she crooned, sifting through the hair on his chest. “Walter’s got a gut and he’s about fifty pounds overweight,” she complained, tweaking his nipples with her fingers. “Show me a man with muscles and a flat belly and I get really hot, sugar.” She was nibbling on his ear now and he felt himself weakening.
His lust for Francine had been a keen motivating factor in the exercise program Ted had undertaken a year ago. As a result of hours in the gym, his abdomen was as flat as that of a man fifteen years younger, and his reward was the uninhibited enjoyment Francine took in letting him know it. God, it was a turn-on knowing he excited a woman like this.
One of her hands wandered lower now, slipped beneath the waistband of his briefs. He groaned as her fingers curled around him, and he gave up trying to have a practical discussion. Later, he promised himself as he fell back on the bed and let her strip off his pants and briefs. They could work on the practicalities of continuing their relationship later. Rachel might prove difficult once she’d had some time to come to terms with the fact that he was in love with Francine. And Walter was definitely a wild card. He was one possessive bastard where Francine was concerned and Ted could identify with that. But he’d go to hell and back before giving her up.
She had climbed on top now, smiling and tempting him with her lush, heavy breasts cupped in both hands. She still wore the thong and she moved like a belly dancer on top of him, bewitching and utterly sexual, an enticing siren of a woman. Francine called to something deep within him that he’d never known was there and that no other woman had ever tapped. With a groan, he fumbled at the thong, tore it off her and violently buried himself to the hilt. She might deny they were in for trouble, but Ted knew stormy times were ahead. But that thought was lost as he gave himself up to the lust of the moment.
Three
Rachel never had a chance to lay down the law to Ted that night, even if the opportunity had presented itself. Which it didn’t. Marta had fixed dinner for Nick and Kendall, but her loyalty as a friend did not extend to doing the dishes, and without Rachel’s supervision, neither had the kids. So, by the time Rachel had tidied up, supervised homework, monitored television time and urged the kids upstairs to shower and get into bed, it was late. Taking a minute for herself—finally—she had barely begun filling the tub for a long soak and some deep thinking about her marriage and Ted’s infidelity when the phone rang. It was Monk Tyson. She was in no fit shape to discuss Jason Pate’s problems, which she assumed was the reason for his call. She was swamped by her own problems. But Monk was insistent. Consequently, she was tied up for another half hour sharing the details of the boy’s arrest and release from Juvenile in Dallas. It was almost eleven when the call finally ended. And still no word from Ted.
She showered—forgoing the long soak—and turned the covers back on her bed. Waiting up for Ted was something she usually did, or rather, she’d been in the habit of doing so until his hours became so erratic. Now that she knew about the affair, that intimate little ritual of marriage was ended. She felt a pang, knowing Ted probably hadn’t valued that effort on her part for the past year, anyway, considering his infatuation with another woman. He’d be sleeping in the guest room now and was probably relieved to do it. She lay flat on her back, dry-eyed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. She vowed he wouldn’t see her desolation or find her red-eyed and weepy when he finally showed up. But hours later as the clock struck two and then three, she realized he wasn’t coming home at all.
The numbness that had gripped her until then suddenly disappeared. Since the moment Ted had admitted the affair, her stomach had been in a knot, but she’d crammed so many other things into her day that her personal problems had been crowded out. How could he be in love with someone else, and Francine Dalton, of all people? Francine and Walter were their friends. Walter, older and more settled in Rose Hill, had partnered up with Ted when they’d first started the practice. A few years later, he’d married Francine, who’d been twenty years younger than Walter. Francine, Rachel thought now, was twelve years younger than Ted. It was ludicrous.
It was crushing. A sob caught in her throat. Just last month, she and Ted had celebrated their eighteenth anniversary at a restaurant with Walter and Francine. Had there been signs of Ted’s infidelity then? She thought of the new suits he’d suddenly decided he needed, the silk boxer shorts he’d begun wearing, the diet he’d undertaken to lose weight, the ambitious exercise program he’d been fixated on at the gym. Moments of sexual intimacy between them had become increasingly rare. She remembered the ongoing search for an additional partner in the practice that required trips to Dallas or Houston or Los Angeles, Boston, New York. Always excluding her. How had she been so blind? Didn’t a wife sense these things? Didn’t she somehow know deep down in her heart that her husband had fallen out of love with her? Is that what had happened? Had Ted fallen out of love with her and she hadn’t noticed? But how could that be? She was a psychologist. She was supposed to be able to read people, to see beyond the obvious. Was she a failure there, as Cameron Ford seemed to think, as well as in her role as Ted’s wife?
And now, what next?
There was no school the next day, Saturday, and fortunately Nick and Kendall were still sleeping when Ted finally came home. Standing on the sunporch drinking a cup of black coffee, Rachel waited while he went into the kitchen, poured himself some coffee and then went looking for her. At least, she assumed he was looking for her. She said nothing, unwilling to call out to him as she once would have done to let him know she was in the sunroom. After a few minutes, he found her.
For a moment, as he stood in the door, they simply looked at each other. He still wore the Armani suit from yesterday, she noticed, although it was somewhat wilted and he’d removed his tie. The ends of it dangled from his jacket pocket. His shirt was open at the throat and she saw a faint mark near the collar. Francine’s lipstick, she guessed, and felt a surge of raw rage. She took some satisfaction that he looked tired and his eyes were red-rimmed as if he’d had little sleep. She could guess the reason now.
“Where were you last night, Ted?”
“I stayed in the cabin at the lake.”
“And you didn’t think to call and let us—the kids and me—know that?”
He didn’t answer, but shrugged out of the jacket and tossed it onto a rattan chair. “We need to talk, Rachel.”
“Was Francine with you at the cabin?”
“For a while. Then I took her home.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “I apologize for not calling. I should have. I thought it was for the best last night…now that you know, I mean. I figured you’d need some time to come to terms with—”
“With the fact that my husband is a liar and a cheat?” She set her coffee down before he could see her unsteady hands. “After eighteen years, it takes more than a few hours to come to terms with something like that, Ted,” she said bitterly.
“I didn’t plan this, Rachel, I swear to God.” He eased himself down onto the chair. “And neither did Francine. I can’t explain it, how one day we were just friends, and then…the next thing we knew, it was something else. It just…happened. She and I—”
“It just happened that both of you ignored sacred vows? It just happened that you schemed and planned ways to sneak around? It just happened that you forgot what was at stake for you, the father of two children?”
“I know it sounds bad.” With his gaze fixed on his coffee mug, he shook his head. “I don’t expect you to understand, but what we need to do now is figure out how best to handle it.”
Rachel sat gingerly on the edge of the rattan settee. She was thinking back to the countless times they’d been together with the Daltons, two couples, compatible, friends as well as business associates. “How long has this been going on? How long have the two of you been sleeping together?”
Ted turned his face away, flushing with discomfort. “I don’t see any point in going down that road, Rachel.”
She gave him an incredulous look. “You don’t see the point? You tell me you’re in love with another woman and you can’t help yourself, but I’m not supposed to ask whether or not you were having sex with her at the same time you’ve been having sex with me? Then let me put it this way, Ted. Either you answer that question or this conversation is over and any hope you had that we can—” she used her fingers as quote marks “‘figure out how best to handle it’ is zero. So I ask again, how long have you been sleeping with her?”
“A year,” he replied tightly.
A year. Shocked, she stood up quickly and moved across the room. She and Ted hadn’t made love often lately, but they had certainly not given up sex altogether. Now she wondered how she could have been unaware that his heart wasn’t in it. Had he been imagining Francine as his partner? She was sickened at the thought.
“You say you spent the night at our lake house thinking,” she said, her tone quiet and just a bit unsteady. “You said we needed to discuss how to handle…it. I need to know what we’re to handle, the aftermath of your affair or a divorce?”
“It’s not that simple, Rachel.”
“Why not? The way I see it, there are only two options. You end the affair and we’ll see if it’s possible to save our marriage. Or, you continue the affair and I file for a divorce.” Her heart was pounding. Was this the end? Could he really be serious?
“I don’t want to give her up, Rachel. I can’t give her up.”
She stared at him. So his desire for Francine was that overwhelming. “Then you want a divorce.” White-hot pain settled in her chest. Rachel tried to imagine being so enthralled by passion that Nick and Kendall didn’t matter. Or being able to ignore her marriage vows when it was convenient. But she simply couldn’t.
“I thought we’d try a separation.” He rose and went to stand at the glass wall looking out. “Like I said, it’s not as simple considering the circumstances. There’s the practice. And Walter…Walter doesn’t know yet.”
“Yet?”
“Francine plans to tell him.”
“When?”
“When the time is right.”
Rachel laughed bitterly. “Would the time have been right for you if I hadn’t surprised you at lunch yesterday?”
“We knew we were on borrowed time,” Ted said, turning back. “What I’m asking for now is just that…some time. Let me try to figure out the best way to handle this. Hell, Rachel, I spent the whole night worrying about what to tell you, what—”
“After having sex with Francine, I assume.”
“—what to say to the kids,” he plowed on doggedly, “whether to move out, wondering what Walter will do when he’s told. It’s going to be a big mess. I don’t have to tell you that.”
“No, you don’t have to tell me that,” she repeated. “And as for Walter, I can guess what his reaction will be. He’s twenty years older than Francine and tends to be possessive. If you recall, she was married when they met. She got a divorce to marry Walter. He’s crazy about her. He’s an old-fashioned guy. He likes the idea that she belongs to him. He’s not going to take this lying down.”
Ted shrugged. “What can he do? She doesn’t love him anymore.”
“Oh, she loves you now?”
He looked her in the eye. “Is that so hard to believe?”
Was it? Was he saying he felt unloved by Rachel? Had they drifted into the familiar rut of married couples who took each other for granted? Did she no longer see Ted as sexy and desirable? Was it her fault that he’d looked for someone who did see him that way? But…Francine?
“How long will it be,” she asked him, “once the two of you finally get together, that she gets bored with you as she apparently has with Walter and begins looking for someone new?”
“That won’t happen.”
“Really.”
“Really.” After a moment, he sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
Their gazes held, Ted’s defensive and stubborn, Rachel’s filled with disbelief and disgust. Then the moment was broken by the sound of the doorbell. But before either could react, it rang again. And then again.
Ted swore, glancing at his watch as Rachel hurried away to answer. “Who the hell can that be so early?”
Before she reached the foyer, the sound of the chimes gave way to the crash of a fist pounding on the door. At the peephole now, Rachel peered out, her eyes going wide with dismay. Walter Dalton. Quickly, she turned the deadbolt and, before opening the door, said to Ted, who’d followed on her heels, “It’s Walter, and if I were you, I’d get ready for a very dicey encounter.”
To Rachel, Walter Dalton had always looked more like a boxer than a physician. He was fifty-two years old and no more than five eight or nine in his stocking feet, with heavy shoulders and a neck thick from his years as an athlete in high school. But his short, iron-gray haircut and pugnacious features belied a gentle manner that sick children seemed to sense instinctively. There was nothing gentle about his demeanor now. Just the opposite.
He looked beyond Rachel to Ted. “What the hell’s going on with you and my wife, Ted?” he growled.
Rachel glanced quickly to check that no neighbors were out, then reached for Walter’s arm and pulled him over the threshold. “Come in, Walter,” she said, trying for a calm tone. “I’ve got fresh coffee in the kitchen. The kids are still asleep.”
“I don’t want any goddamned coffee. I want some answers.” He lowered his head on his neck and looked narrow-eyed at Ted. “When I got home last night, my wife met me at the door with some kind of crazy talk about you and her. I better hear you say it’s a lie or I swear to God, Ted, I’m gonna kick your ass from here to Dallas after I’ve sliced your dick off.”
“Calm down, for God’s sake, Walter,” Ted said, glancing toward the stairs. He reached for his partner’s arm, but Walter shook him off. “We can talk in the sunroom.”
“You’re not denying it?” he bellowed.
Rachel put her finger to her lips. “Please, Walter. The kids. I don’t want—”
Still breathing fire, he gave Ted a ferocious glare before muttering a gruff apology to Rachel and sending a quick glance to the stairs, still mercifully sans the children. Lowering his tone somewhat, he said to her, “Do you know what this son of a bitch has been doing with Francine behind our backs?”
She sighed, urging him along toward the sunroom. “I do.”
He frowned darkly. “You know they’ve been screwing around and you didn’t say anything?”
“I only found out yesterday, Walter.” They entered the sunroom, she still keeping a cautionary hand on Walter’s arm, Ted following warily. “Let me get you a cup of coffee and we’ll try to straighten all this out.”
“I don’t want any coffee. Make it bourbon instead.”
“I’ll get it,” Ted said, moving hastily to the small portable bar they kept stocked in the sunroom. He found the bottle of Jack Daniel’s and took a glass from a hanging rack, then tipped to pour it with a shaky hand. Warning him with a look, Rachel took the drink from Ted and handed it to Walter, who knocked almost all of it back in a single swallow. His eyes locked with Ted’s as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You better have a good story, partner. Otherwise, life as you once knew it is over.”
“Let’s all sit down,” Rachel said, telling Ted with a look to find a seat across the room. Then, patting the place beside her on the settee, she managed a smile at Walter. “This is going to be difficult for all of us. And I think you’re right, Walter. Our lives are changed.”
Walter ignored the invitation to sit and instead looked hard at Ted. “It’s true, then? You’ve been screwing my wife?”
“We didn’t plan it, Walt,” Ted said. Sweat now glistened on his forehead and his face was pale. “Sometimes these things just happen.”
“Tell me, Ted, just how long have you been screwing her?” Walter’s tone was soft with menace.
Ted stood up. “I think you should discuss those details with Francine. She—”
Walter slammed his glass on the bar, took three steps across the room and grabbed the front of Ted’s shirt. “If I ask you for details, you bastard, then you be man enough to answer,” he said between clenched teeth. Although he was three inches shorter than Ted, he outweighed him by a good forty pounds. Tightening his grip, he gave a twist to the shirt and Ted suddenly couldn’t breathe. Feet scrabbling, he made a strangled sound, trying to keep his balance and loosen Walter’s hold at the same time.
“Walter!” Rachel pulled frantically at his elbow, but it was like trying to move a stone statue. “Please, Walter, stop! Don’t, please, don’t!” But Walter was past hearing…or caring. He drew his fist back and let fly a hard right at Ted’s face.
“Oh, my God!” Rachel watched helplessly as the two men crashed over the coffee table. The glass top shattered. Books, photos, a potted orchid and mementos went flying. Blood spurted from Ted’s nose. Both men rolled about, grunting and gouging and kicking, each trying to find an opening to strike a blow.
“Dad! Mom! Jeez, what’s going on?”
Rachel turned to find Nick in the doorway, staring in amazement. “Nick, oh, thank God, help me stop them!”
The boy hesitated only a second before dashing into action. “You take Dad and I’ll take Dr. Walt.” Wading into the fray, he got a good grip on the back of Walt’s collar and pulled tight, momentarily choking off the older man’s breath. Rachel didn’t need to do more than grab at Ted’s arm. Once he had a chance, he scrambled out of Walter’s reach and got hastily to his feet, swiping at his bloody nose with the sleeve of his expensive shirt. He stood heaving and trying to catch his breath, watching warily as Nick kept a firm hold on Walter.
“I’m okay,” Walter said to Nick, shaking free of the boy’s grip. “Sorry about that, Rachel. Nick.” Then he turned back to Ted. “No apology to you, you prick. And don’t think I’m done with you yet. Francine may be determined to leave me, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before she ever belongs to you.” Giving his shoulders a quick hunch, he straightened the collar of his golf shirt and began tucking in the tails. That done, he looked briefly at Rachel and Nick, standing stunned and silent before turning back to Ted. “What the hell’s the matter with you, you dickhead? You’ve got everything a man could want right here in Rachel and your kids and still you go poaching my territory. What, you think the grass is greener on the other side? My side,” he emphasized, jabbing his thumb toward his chest. Then, shaking his head, he crossed the room to leave, but at the door, he turned back for one final shot. “You’re a goddamn fool, Ted.”
