Pretense by Lori Wick Page A

wonderful he seems, who could treat his wife this way. Don't let him hurt you the way he's hurting his wife."
    Shay cried some more but then began to gain some control. Marrell remained quiet until Shay turned angry eyes on her.
    "I suppose you want me to leave."
    "No." Shay's voice was tight. "I'm just so angry at myself. I do this every time. When am I going to get it right?"
    When indeed? Marrell ached for her friend but didn't know what else she could say. She would have offered to make the
    50
    espresso herself but had no idea how. The phone rang in the middle of her thoughts.
    "That'll be Dante."
    "Your therapist?"
    "Yes."
    "I'll go, Shay."
    "No. Please stay, Marrell. I'm going to tell him, and I would like you here when I'm finished."
    Marrell nodded and watched while Shay rose and left the room. The ringing stopped a moment later, and Marrell could hear Shay's voice from another room, presumably the bedroom. She couldn't catch the words, but she didn't want to listen anyway. For the longest time she just studied the pattern on the oriental rug, still in shock over all that had transpired. To keep from pacing, Marrell finally picked up a glossy magazine from the coffee table and began to page through it. How much time passed she wasn't sure, but when Shay returned, she was pale and solemn.
    "Are you all right?" Marrell asked, putting the periodical aside.
    "Not right now, but I will be. When I heard his voice I almost lost it, but I told him it's over."
    It was on the tip of Marrell's tongue to ask what he said, but she didn't feel it was her place. She had pushed in enough as it was. Shay surprised her by telling all.
    "I don't think he believed me at first, but I was calm and finally got through to him. He's not angry, but I'm sure he's thinking I just need a little time to come around. I wonder what he'll say when I don't show up for our session on Tuesday night."
    "Do you think he'll call here?"
    "Yes."
    "Come to dinner. Meet Paul and the girls. We'd love to have you. When you get home, unplug your phone."
    For an instant Shay wanted to lash out at her. Marrell made it sound so simple, but Shay's world was falling apart. Deep inside, however, was a peace that Shay hadn't known since the first time she'd gone into Dante's office. They had been attracted to each other from the start, and the picture of Dante's wife and children on the desk only mocked her, even when she became practiced at ignoring them. But none of this was Marrell's fault, and Shay had no right to lash out at her. If she hadn't wanted
    51
    her advice, she should have kept her mouth shut about the situation.
    Before she could change her mind, Shay stuffed the pain deep inside and asked what time she should come.
    "Come right after work. We'll eat at 6:00."
    "All right. Shall I bring something?"
    "No. Cooking is not my strongest point, but I won't poison you."
    Shay smiled. "I'm ready for that espresso. How about you?"
    "Only if you're up to it, Shay," Marrell said gently. "Maybe you'd rather I leave."
    "I'll understand if you want to."
    Marrell's head went to one side in thought. "I had hoped that we could renew our friendship, Shay, I had hoped very much. I must be honest and tell you I never expected this, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to walk away. We were best friends at one time, and I'll always love you. I'm sorry for this hurt in your life, but I'll be even more sorry if you need me and I'm not there."
    Tears welled in Shay's eyes, but she bit her lip to keep them at bay. Motioning with her head, she led the way back to the kitchen. Less than an hour later the women sat across the table from each other-salads, rolls, and hot coffee in front of them. Their conversation had ranged to all topics, and even to the most painful one for Shay, but at no time did walls come up or uncomfortable silences fall.
    After so many years, neither one could say that it was as if no time had passed-too much had gone on for that. They would never be girls again,