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“You cheat, that’s why,” she replied.
“How do you cheat at pinochle? That’s crazy!”
“You’re counting cards,” Sandra answered. “I should have figured someone with your brains wouldn’t play fair.”
“Now, Sandra, that’s not very nice,” Pam said, but she sprayed spittle all over when she burst out laughing.
“And you’re just as bad!” Sandra yelled.
“I’ve been playing cards since I was in diapers,” Brent said. “Ask Mom. During the winter, if we didn’t go skiing, we’d be in the kitchen playing until all hours. Aunt Marie would be there, and Lisa and Dad.” He gazed out the window, over the city views. “It was a lot of fun.”
“It sure was,” Pam whispered.
“Dad was always available for us,” he said, looking at Pam. “I never felt I lacked anything because he wasn’t around all week. You filled the need, I guess.”
Sandra was getting her answers about what kind of father Jack had been without asking a question. It made her sad to hear Brent talk about it.
“I’m glad you have good memories,” Pam said. “Something positive for a change.” Stretching, she got up from the floor. “I guess I better call it a day. Long Island awaits.”
“Tell Lisa I said hi,” Brent said.
“Okay, this time I will. But you need to keep your relationship with your sister going on your own. It’s part of growing up.”
“Gosh, is that all it takes to grow up?”
Brent got up to see his mother out, with Sandra following.
“I’ll be leaving shortly,” she said to Pam.
They kissed goodbye and promised to see each other the following week. Sandra walked back to the living room and started picking up. She knew she was playing with fire, that if she stuck around, she’d lose her way again and get burned.
“You don’t need to do that,” Brent said when he came back into the room. He took glasses from her and put them back down on the table, pouring the rest of the champagne.
“I’ll be right back,” Sandra said, staggering to the bathroom.
The light was awful in the bathroom, and Sandra wished she’d brought her purse with her. She was ghostly pale, and a little fresh lipstick would have helped. When she got back out to the living room, Brent was waiting for her.
Sandra didn’t resist him reaching for her. They kissed urgently, his hands traveling down the length of her body. She responded and moaned, willing to go further. He led her to the couch, and they collapsed onto it, Brent on top of her. She didn’t hesitate, spreading her legs. He nestled in the space, pushing up against her.
“You’re risking a lot, aren’t you?” he asked, holding her. He pulled up from her and looked into her eyes. “You don’t really even know me.”
The heat of shame went through Sandra’s body as he warned her that she might regret getting involved with him, subduing her passion.
“Do you want to stop?” she asked, sounding defensive, humiliated by his concern.
Worse, a seed had sprouted that being with Brent was like seducing a younger brother. She moved out from under him, pushing him off.
“No, not at all. But I don’t want you to have any regrets. We’re going to work together on Monday, like you said. You might decide then that I’m an asshole and wonder why you ever got involved with me.”
Sandra stood up, trying to hide her disappointment.
“You have a point,” she said, embarrassed. She decided then to leave before she broke down crying. She felt like a stupid child. “I guess I’ll go, then. Are you sure you don’t want help cleaning up?”
“I am. Thank you for offering. Let’s have one more glass of champagne.”
He went into the kitchen with their glasses and returned with two full glasses.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had champagne in the daylight,” Sandra said. They spoke about work and finished the champagne. Sandra stifled a yawn. She felt like she could lie down on the couch and go to sleep for the rest of the day.
