Chapter Sixty Three
Jim had slept poorly the last few months, regretting the early years when he allowed Hallie’s manipulations to distance himself from his children. He could remember all the happy times that had begun when the Dukes and Mangans moved to New York from Georgia. The big family weekends started then, all the children converging on Manor House or Crabapple Farm, or one of the other houses. It didn’t happen as often now that the kids were mostly in their teens, some driving, all involved in sports or other activities at school.
Aralyn had always led the pack of children as they played games in the yard or the house, tearing through doorways and up and down stairs, chasing each other, climbing trees at Crabapple Farm, or running through the preserve of Manor House. They played ball with his students once they started arriving. Regan was still tending horses and taught them all to ride in the same corral (although it had been replaced over time) where he had taught Trixie so many years before.
They made a noisy arrival, but Jim had to admire the way they all had it worked out. Bo carried a twin in one arm, baby bags over his shoulder while Trixie had the other twin, while Aralyn was assigned something small to carry. Other times, Aralyn rode on Bo’s shoulders. Once Sean came along, Bo somehow managed to corral both twins and the bags, while Trixie handled Sean. Aralyn ran ahead, bolting for her cousins, completely disinterested in her brothers.
The Mangans had worked out a similar routine. Dan would have the boys in tow, while Daisy tried to keep Dana with her, but once the cousins all saw each other, it was a free for all of chaotic happiness and play. Mart and Di often had everything in backpacks, and a twin in each arm. Honey and Luke just had the two children. They all made it work.
The men would be playing poker as the kids raced around, the women drifted into the kitchen to cook and chat, though Daisy and Trixie often joined the poker games. The kids would eventually start dropping or wearing down, climbing into the lap of whichever grownup was nearby and available.
Aralyn and Tim insisted on watching the poker games closely. Bo was always willing for her to sit in his lap, and teach her the game. Timmy followed suit, sitting on Dan’s lap and quickly learning. Tim’s poker face was much better than Aralyn, who could never hide her glee or dismay very well. Riley watched in fascinated silence once or twice, memorizing the rules and then moving on to something more interesting.
By the end of the night everyone had a drowsy or sleeping child in their laps. Jim didn’t mind when one of them would want to sit on his lap. He adored all of his nieces and nephews, cuddling them whenever they wanted. He knew everyone’s birthdays, favorite colors and hobbies, and made sure never to miss a celebration. Often he ended up with Leif or Logan asleep on him. He couldn’t tell them apart any better than Bo, but the cheerful, prank-loving twins seemed fond of him.
When it was time to leave, someone would call out “Everyone under twelve, line up!”
It became a game, to see who could line up first, in age order. The parents would walk up and down the line, selecting their children as if they weren’t sure who might be theirs. Blond, brunette, in between, eventually one redheaded little boy joined the lineup; it was an amusing game to watch. Hallie watched it with a sneer usually, when she bothered to come at all, a beer or glass of liquor in her hand.
Once Jim’s own kids came along, they were much younger than the rowdier Belden-Duke kids, and so much shyer. Sean was the same age as Byron but Sean of course didn’t interact the same. There wasn’t as much interaction with the older kids, and as they all grew, the weekends became less frequent, but their lives were just as entwined.
All but the Fraynes. They lived out in Sleepyside instead of White Plains. Way down Glen Road, where their nearest neighbors were the Beldens and Lynches. They Lynches traveled the world these days, visiting their five children and numerous grandchildren spread out around the world.
Hallie had never been comfortable with their children playing with Jim’s boys. She claimed it was because they came from broken homes and were dangerous, but Jim suspected she was just being a snob. She wanted the city life, not stuck out here where there was a lot of nature and quiet, but not much else to do. She didn’t like going to over on the weekends to spend the day with the rest of the family, and she seemed to both appreciate but resent Helen Belden always stopping by to visit with the kids.
Hence, the Frayne kids didn’t know their older cousins as well. Jim would have given anything to go back in time, even if Trixie didn’t feel the same.
***
Jim rubbed his temples after he hung up the phone. It had been an emotional weekend. Tiffany kidnapped, then rescued. Aralyn was home from her ‘rideabout’, Tiffany was home from the hospital, Tim had left this morning to return to Annapolis, and the family was attempting to get their lives back in order.
Jim stared at the sleek black receiver. James Oodvale had been most helpful, as Jim knew he would. Matthew Wheeler employed only the top sharks in the attorney field. Oodvale was more than willing to meet with him about a potential divorce, and protecting the Frayne-Wheeler assets. He had also had had a private detective tailing Hallie's every move for months. So far, she was behaving, but still drinking. He had plenty of pictures of that. But she and Ben hadn’t crossed any lines. Yet. He wondered how long it would take her to run into her ex’s arms.
Burying his hands in his red hair, Jim wondered for the millionth time how it had all come to this. If only he hadn't gotten drunk that night. The night Trixie had called home to announce her engagement to Bo Duke. Brian had wanted him to hear it from him. Jim has been in the city on business, and headed for a bar. Brian was on duty that night but made the call to his best friend, and Mart had planned a romantic night with Di. Dan of course, was already engaged to Daisy Duke, and Honey to Luke Duke. Trixie and Bo were the final pairing.
And when he was good and drunk, who showed up but Hallie Belden, the epitome of trouble in her tight black leather dress, fishnets and spiked heels. He had always thought Hallie was pretty in a I'm-the-Girl-Your-Mother-Warned-You-About way, and more than once over the years he had thought Trixie was unfair to her. Hallie had taken him to her apartment, where he had made the mistake of having sex with her, all the while trying to forget her spunky blonde cousin who was now forever out of his arms. The next day, feeling like a heel, he went to apologize, and before he knew, they were at it again. After that...she became his addiction, and in some twisted way, his connection to Trixie.
Somewhere right after they were married though, the addiction stopped. They couldn't be together in capacity of man and wife, and they both knew it. Then came the day he sat her down to suggest a divorce...
"What do you want to talk about?" she asked listlessly, staring at the ceiling. She should tell him. He'd notice soon enough. Unless she went for the abortion. He would never have to know. She could be rid of this whole crappy situation, husband and all. She didn’t want kids, never had. But she knew where to go, and how to get this taken care of.
"This isn't working out," he said bluntly.
"I know," she sighed. "I thought we could make it work but apparently not."
"I'm hoping we can work this out with needing to involve lawyers," he said quietly.
Hallie nodded, jaw tense. There was no prenuptial agreement, which was to her benefit. Jim was so honorable it made her sick sometimes; he wouldn't leave her empty handed. Their marriage had been a mistake from the start and they both knew it. And she could have the abortion and he’d never know. She didn’t want a baby, especially his. This marriage had been a mistake from the start.
“I’ll make sure you get a fair settlement,” he said. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
She had gotten up to get a drink, knocking her oversized purse off the sofa. Jim reached for it automatically and froze. Hallie, pouring the amber colored liquid from the decanter didn't notice. Sipping her drink, she turned to face him.
"I'm sure we can agree—" she froze when she saw him kneeling, frozen still. In his hand was a pink and white box. Ashen faced, he looked up at her.
"Are you pregnant?" he whispered.
Shit! It was the second of two pack of pregnancy tests she had bought. She had only used the one, and forgotten about the other in her purse. Hallie hesitated, forgetting the drink in her hand. No matter how angry he had made her, she didn't want to lie to him.
Lie, she thought, Say it’s for a friend. Don’t admit it or you’ll never get away.
"Yes," she admitted.
Moving faster than she thought possible, he stood and snatched the drink from her hand. "You're pregnant, with my child, and knowingly drinking? Hallie, you have a drink almost every night! How far are you?" he demanded.
Hallie shrugged. What had she been thinking, admitting it? "I don't know. I've been on the Pill, Jim, I shouldn't even be pregnant."
Jim ran his hands through his hair in distress. "We're getting you an appointment tomorrow. And don't you dare touch another drink!"
And so it had begun. Jim wouldn't hear of a divorce from that point. He wanted his child and family, he wanted the family life that had been ripped away from him. He accompanied her to all of her appointments, read every book he could get his hands on about pregnancy and impending parenthood. Jim made sure she ate well, took her vitamins and he poured out every bit of alcohol in the house while lecturing her on taking care of herself and the baby. He cleaned out the cabinets of junk food and insisted on her eating more vegetable, less grease and processed food. Jim oversaw her nutrition like a hawk, and Hallie came to loathe him with every fiber of her body.
All because her antibiotics had weakened the effectiveness of the birth control.
Hallie wanted to kill Jim eventually for his ridiculous overprotectiveness, and every bit of affection she had had for him slowly withered and died. As she grew bigger, he grew more protective, more cautious until one day she threw a lamp at his head. She should have snuck off to have the abortion, she thought a thousand times. She shouldn’t have let him convince her that they could still make this mess of a marriage work. Why hadn’t she listened to her instincts?
"Stop it!" she had yelled. "Stop smothering me! I'm not the first freaking woman to have a baby, Jim Frayne! Now back off!"
He had been a little better after that but not much. Hallie thought about just popping the kid out and taking off. He wanted the damn thing so badly, he could have it. She hated her body. Hated the weight, the puffiness, the mood swings, the backaches, the kicking at her all night. Hated the thing growing in her, binding her into this situation. She just wanted it over with. Hated the trapped feeling, the fact her body wasn’t hers anymore.
And when he had been born, she held the tiny, squalling dark haired baby, bitterly noting he didn't have Jim's red hair or even strawberry blonde, which she knew he had always dreamed of. She'd never forget the first time he murmured Trixie's name while they had sex. It hadn’t been the last time either, although it usually was only when he was very drunk, which was often in the early days. Yet Hallie kept coming back for more, which she couldn’t explain. Eventually she realized it was because she had something that Trixie once held dear to her heart: James Winthrop Frayne II. Nice slap to her perky blonde cousin whom everyone adored, she had thought. Except Trixie was in love with, married to, and had children with Bo Duke, not Jim Frayne.
Hallie would never be able to get over what her own insecurity had wrought her.
Naming Byron had caused a huge fight. She refused to name him after Jim or anyone in Jim's family. "It's a stupid tradition and I won't have it," she snapped.
Jim spent every possible moment watching over Byron, feeding him, changing him. To make matters worse, Trixie had her fourth child before Hallie had her first, and Hallie was sure everyone preferred Sean to Byron, even though they were only a couple months apart.
As he had done with Trixie’s other children, Jim sent an elaborate gift and good wishes. She wouldn't have even known had she not glanced through the checkbook. She didn't attend the baby shower. Trixie had come to hers though. It was a small shower, just the old Bob-White girls and a few others. Many of the wives of Jim’s and Matthew’s business partner sent expensive gifts.
Byron put a stop their sex lives, until one night, when Hallie slapped Jim across the face for an insult he spat at her in anger. Stunned, he stood in shock until she threw herself at him, apologizing, and he held her gently, kissing her. That was the only time Hallie could think of where they actually made love, which resulted in Valerra. The truce was temporary.
Little Regan was conceived in anger, another argument that turned violent when she attacked him. Jim had wrestled an intoxicated and violent Hallie off of him, and they fell on the couch. Before he knew it they were tearing off each other's clothes and going at it. They had barely spoken afterwards. He was too disgusted with himself for his lack of self-control and their rutting, and she just smirked at him as she dressed, as if she knew a secret about him. Regan was born nine months later.
Hallie had her tubes tied without consulting Jim as a final blow to Jim, but Jim had managed tomake sure the boy was named for the three men in his life who had done so much for him. Regan’s birth had been difficult, with Hallie unconscious for parts of it and wanting to die when she was awake.
Now, for the umpteenth time Jim sat wishing he had never that first drink of scotch that long ago night. Had they divorced before Byron, they might have salvaged their friendship. He knew now she'd fight just to make him miserable. But he loved his children, despite what Hallie told people. His children were the one bright spot in his life. Whatever else he felt for Hallie, she had given him three beautiful, wonderful children.
Jill entered the office, shutting the door behind her. "Mr. Frayne? I mean, Jim?"
Jim looked up wearily, noting how the blonde curls were a bit more golden than sandy, but the body shape was the same. While her resume was impressive, he refused to admit he had hired her because of her resemblance to Trixie. Brian and Mart had exchanged a glance, and Marge Trask hid her surprise, but not Bill Regan. Shaking his head, he point blank asked Jim if he knew what he was doing. Jim had nodded.
Now he wasn't so sure. Did she always wear such low cut blouses, he wondered. Such shapely legs, he noted, as she came around the side of his desk. He should let her go, he knew that. He had been thinking about it for weeks. Even before that kiss. She was too much of a distraction, a liability. But if he fired her now, could Hallie use it against him, fueling the fire that he might have had an affair?
"Jim, are you all right?" her voice was low and sultry as she knelt next to him. He nodded.
"Just a rough morning."
"Poor guy," she ran her hand along his thigh and Jim froze. He had to stop this, and stop it now. He couldn’t do this with his secretary, for crying out loud. Not so close to home!
"Jill," he said slowly.
"Yes?" she looked up at him and before he could stop her, she was pressing her lips against his. Jim reached to push her away but then she was straddling him in his chair, hiking up her short skirt and unbuttoning his shirt.
"Jill, no," he managed as her fingers found his belt. To his horror, he found himself hard and wanting her. It had been years since he had touched Hallie, months since his last affair, and here was this pretty, soft, woman who looked so much like ...
"Yes," she breathed, teasing his tongue and mouth with hers. "I've wanted you from the day I interviewed. You want me. I look like her."
Shit, he thought. Even Jill knew about Trixie. She was undoing his shirt, running her soft hands over his chest.
"You can pretend I'm her," Jill was pulling him from the chair and they toppled on the thick, soft carpet. “I don’t mind.”
"Jill, stop," he panted as she covered his mouth with hers, while her hands worked quickly on his clothes. But he couldn’t resist her. She was pretty, and soft and warm, and she wanted him. And he wanted her too.
*
Jim lay on the floor of his office, humiliated, embarrassed and disgusted with himself. He was weak. So, so weak.
Jill eased from him slowly, kissing him. "Thank you," she whispered.
Jim grabbed her wrist. "This can't ever happen again."
"Of course it can," she softly. "And you know it will. Here's my number for when you change your mind. Don’t put it in your phone; in case your crazy wife finds it. I’ve got to get back to my desk, after I go to the bathroom.”
She slid a piece of paper into his shirt pocket, gave him one more kiss, and got to her feet, pulling her skirt down and smoothing her blonde curls. He heard the door click shut behind her.
Dear God, he thought, what have I just done?
Brian found him an hour later, when he arrived for lunch. Jim's head was on his desk, reeking of scotch. The decanter he kept on hand for his father or visiting investors was empty. His shirt was untucked though buttoned, his tie thrown on the floor, and his face a nasty shade of gray.
Brian dialed 911.
Meet the cast in full & see the family tree!
***
Author’s Notes
- A huge yeee-haa to Ronda, my lovely editor who helps keep me on track!
- Poor Jim. He's got a rough road ahead!
- Word Count, 3,445
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