Eye of Flame by Pamela Sargent

right after I was home from work. He says he’s been in love with me for years, that he had a crush on me in high school. I called in sick the next day and saw him again. Joe’s always home late—it was easy to see Tad.”
    Jacqueline was silent. Patti turned and paced toward the fireplace; Jacqueline composed her face. “It’s crazy, I know,” Patti said. “I don’t even know where he lives, or what he’s doing, I just know I have to be with him. It isn’t just the sex—he understands me; he listens to me.”
    Jacqueline closed her eyes for a moment. She should have guessed she wasn’t the only woman in Tad’s life, that his sincere-sounding words were only a line designed to hook the vulnerable, but he might have found someone besides her cousin. How had he even managed it? He had been with her for much of the past three days, would have had to rush away while she was asleep. That was possible; Patti’s house was only half a mile from the condominium. She had lost track of time with him, but was his energy limitless? How could he have had any strength left for Patti?
    “You’re shocked,” Patti said.
    Jacqueline lit a cigarette. “I’m a little startled,” she said, trying to mask her hurt. “You have a pretty good life with Joe. Do you want to throw it away?”
    “I don’t care about that now. Tad’s what I want; I think he’s the kind of man I wanted all along. I can’t even think of anything else when I’m with him.”
    “But you’ve admitted you don’t know anything about him.”
    “I know what I have to know, and he says he needs me.”
    She would be doing her cousin a favor if she told Patti that Tad had seen her as well. Patti would be angry, but the news might be enough to make her give him up.
    Jacqueline was about to speak, then hesitated. Patti might only get angry at her or refuse to believe the story. If she got jealous enough, Jacqueline could hardly stay on in her condo with a car borrowed from one of Joe’s showrooms; she would have to go home, and might not see Tad again. That possibility tore at her. Even now, she still longed for Tad; he must have sensed her weakness, her need.
    “You feel that way now,” Jacqueline said, “but it won’t last. You might find out later that Tad isn’t what you wanted, either. Stop seeing him before it’s too late. Joe doesn’t have to know.”
    “I’m in love with Tad.”
    “You just think you are.” Jacqueline took a breath, wondering if she was trying to help Patti or only trying to win Tad for herself. She stubbed out her cigarette. “Patti, you’re tired, and we’ve both had too much to drink. It’ll look different tomorrow, believe me.”
    Patti sank down onto the stone hearth. “You don’t understand; you don’t know how I feel.” She looked up suddenly. “You won’t say anything.”
    “Of course not.” Jacqueline stood up. “Look, maybe you can take an afternoon off this week and show me the sights. I don’t think I’m ready to take on the freeways alone.”
    “I’ll see.” Patti’s voice was flat.
     
    Jacqueline tossed on her bed restlessly, unable to sleep. The sound of passing cars outside was competing with the noise of a party somewhere in the building. The weekend crowds had thronged to the beach and later to the bars along the Strand in search of the pleasures so low on Plato’s hierarchy.
    Tad was outside; she could feel it. She was afraid to confront him. She was imagining things; he might be roaming with the people outside, looking for another victim.
    She heard a knock at the door; maybe it was Patti, wanting to talk. She pulled on her robe and left the bedroom; the living room’s track lights came on as she slapped a switch. Her bare feet padded across the thick beige carpeting. “Who’s there?”
    “Tad.”
    “Go away.” She had to force the words out.
    “Jackie, I have to see you. Please open the door.”
    Her hand reached for the knob; she recoiled. “I don’t want to see