Private Pleasures

Chapter One

"I think Jeff is having an affair," Nora Buckley said unhappily, looking about the kitchen table at her four friends.

The women of Ansley Court shifted uncomfortably, throwing quick looks at one another. It was a difficult situation.

"So." Rina Seligmann, the oldest of them, finally broke the silence. "What else is new, sweetie? I mean who hasn't Jeff hit on all the years we've lived here?"

The silence deepened appreciably with her words.

"Oh, my God!" Rina gasped as the truth hit her. She looked at Nora sympathetically. "You didn't know, hon? You really didn't know? Shit! I'm sorry, Nora. I didn't mean…" Her voice trailed off.

"What makes you think Jeff is having an affair?" Carla Johnson, Nora's best friend, asked quietly. "And don't pay any attention to Rina. She's got a big mouth, and a bigger imagination." She gave Rina a sharp look.

Nora Buckley swallowed hard, her questioning glance encompassing the other four women at the table. "Did any of you…?" Her voice trailed off.

"NO!" they all chorused with one voice.

"Then why did Rina say it?" Nora looked as if she was going to cry. She was a pretty woman with fading red hair and soft gray green eyes.

"Because," Carla explained, "there used to be rumors at the club about what a big flirt Jeff was. I suspect a few women even succumbed to his charms, but honey, it's all water under the bridge. No one took him seriously except one or two professional widows, or a divorcйe hot to trot. We sure never did. Now, what's got you so damned upset, Nora? Why are you so suddenly certain that Jeff is having an affair, and with whom, for heaven's sake?"

"It's someone at his office, or at least connected with his business," Nora replied softly. "He's in town far more than he is here, isn't he? He's been home once in the last ten days. Just once. I don't know what to do, or think."

"And?" Carla probed as the others tried not to look too interested. Carla was the most sensible of them all. She had taken Nora under her wing from the moment they had met. Carla was no-nonsense. Nora was gentle, almost helpless except where her house and her two children were concerned.

"There have been more and more late nights when he does come home," Nora said. "And calls on the weekends to his business phone in the den. If I pick it up, the caller hangs up," Nora explained. She sighed. "I know the kids have more than consumed me, but raising children is hard work. Maybe I haven't been as attentive to Jeff as I might have been. And I've let myself go a little because I never seem to have enough time for me anymore. Suddenly I feel as if Jeff and I don't have anything in common. He's so distant when he is home. It's like he's paying his mother a reluctant visit instead of coming home to his wife and his family. He doesn't seem interested in us at all."

Rina nodded. "I think you've got it right, hon," she said stoically. "He's sure showing all the signs of a man on the prowl, and don't glare at me, Carla. What else can it be?" She reached for a jelly stick, and bit into it.

"How the hell did you get so smart? And how would you know such things?" Carla snapped. "Sam is so damned devoted to you that it's sickening. You're the luckiest woman on Ansley Court, Rina, and you know it."

"Hey, I read Cosmo and Ms. too," Rina snapped back. "I may be the oldest of us all, but I'm not dead yet by any means." She took another bite of the jelly stick.

Her companions laughed. Rina was the only one of them who would really stand up to Carla Johnson. They were six years apart in age, but very much alike in character.

"But what am I going to do?" Nora wailed plaintively. "I'm scared to death for the first time in my life. What if he leaves me?"

"Well, you have to consider if you're better with him or without him," Tiffany Pietro d'Angelo, silent until then, said. "Isn't that what 'Dear Abby' asks?" She was a pretty and petite blonde whose lawyer husband was in local practice with Carla's husband.

"I honestly don't know," Nora said slowly, "but if he's in love with another woman, I can't stand in the way of his happiness. But then, do I really want to throw away twenty-six years of marriage?"

"What have you got?" Rina asked bluntly.

"Got?" Nora looked confused.

"Yeah, got. In your name. The house? And if you're smart, you'll clear out all the joint bank accounts right away. Put 'em in your name," Rina advised. "And move your own bank account somewhere your husband doesn't know about. Jeff is at that dangerous age. When they get involved at this time in their lives they usually want to start all over again with the Jennifer."

"Jennifer? You know her name?" Nora looked confused, and the others struggled to keep from giggling. Nora was really such a sweet innocent even after two kids and all those years of marriage.

"The Jennifer is what they call the young girlfriend who usually ends up being the second wife. The trophy wife," Rina explained acerbically. "Who knows what her real name is? Heather. Courtney. Madison. Who cares?"

The others giggled.

"So," Rina repeated. "What have you got?"

"I don't think I have anything," Nora said softly with a sigh. "The house is in Jeff's name. The only bank account I have is a joint one with Jeff. I pay all the bills associated with the house and the children. He deposits my allowance into it once a month. That's what his father did for his mother."

"Jesus Jenny!" Rina exploded while the other three woman just looked disbelieving. "I thought women like you went out in the fifties, Nora. You don't own the house? Not even jointly? You don't have some money of your own put aside for emergencies? Shit! I think that you are in really big trouble, hon."

"Shut up!" Carla said. "We don't know anything for sure. You're scaring Nora to death with all your talk. How do we know Jeff is having an affair, or that he's going to dump his wife for another woman? You're letting that damned imagination of yours run away with you. You all are!" She put a comforting arm about her best friend. "Nora's just down in the dumps because Jeff is being a little worse than his crappy self. Mr. Workaholic. That's Jeff. Nora's lonely. Jill is finishing college, and working so she can support herself at law school. J. J. is graduating high school, and headed off to college in August. Nora's facing an empty nest. You know what I think, girls? I think Nora needs The Channel. I think it's time we shared our little secret with her." She looked about, grinning conspiratorially at the others. "Am I right? Huh?"

"Ohhh, yes!" Tiffany giggled. "I just love The Channel? What would we all do without The Channel? I remember how I always hated Joe's poker night until you introduced me to The Channel. But now Joe can play cards till the cows come home for all I care." She got a dreamy look on her pretty face, her slim fingers twirling a lock of her champagne blond hair. "Thank heavens for The Channel!" She sighed gustily.

"How come we've never told Nora about The Channel before, Carla?" Joanne Ulrich wondered aloud. Like Tiffany she was petite, but where the youngest of them was slender, Joanne was plump in a pretty and comfortable way. "We generally share everything as a rule."

"Do you really think Nora was ready for The Channel before today?" Rina replied with a mischievous grin as she reached for another jelly stick. She was one of those tall women who never gained weight. "Not really."

The other women laughed knowingly, nodding, sharing the secret.

"What channel?" Nora asked them. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Yeah," Carla agreed. "I think it is time for us to share The Channel with Nora." She turned to her best friend. "It's this interactive thing we get through the television, sweetie," she began. "It's really difficult to explain. You have to experience it to understand it. The next time you're going to be alone for the whole evening, call Suburban Cable, and tell them you want The Channel. That's all you have to do. Try it. I'll bet you'll like it. We all use it, and we all love it. You'll feel a helluva lot better after an evening with The Channel, Nora."

"What channel?" Nora repeated, looking very confused. "Is it like House and Garden? And what's interactive?"

The women burst out laughing again, unable to contain themselves.

"House and Garden," Tiffany wheezed, laughing so hard that the tears ran down her pretty face.

Finally Carla managed to get ahold of herself, and said, "No, hon, it isn't at all like House and Garden. At least it isn't for me. It's different for everyone. But who knows with you, Nora? Look, have I ever steered you wrong? Trust me. Just ask Suburban for The Channel. That's all you have to say. 'I want The Channel.' Now somebody pass me a jelly stick before Rina eats them all. Is this a coffee klatch, or not?"

"Like you need a jelly stick," Rina chuckled with a smile.

"What can I say?" Carla replied, biting into the pastry and quickly licking the jelly that squirted onto her chin. "Your homemade jelly sticks are the best! Besides, Rick likes me cuddly and huggable." She grinned at them.

The women of Ansley Court met every Monday morning for coffee and gossip. They had all moved into Ansley at Egret Pointe, an upscale subdivision, twenty to twenty-five years before. Rina and Sam Seligmann had built first on the cul-de-sac. They had been followed by Joanne and Carl Ulrich. The Buckleys and the Johnsons had by coincidence built at the same time. And finally Tiffany and Joe Pietro d'Angelo had constructed their house on the last lot on Ansley Court. Rina and Joanne were over fifty now. The other three were slightly younger.

They had raised their children together, while their husbands supported their families in the traditional old-fashioned way. Rina had once been a full-time social worker. Joanne an elementary school teacher. Carla was a nurse. Only Tiffany and Nora had never held down a job. Neighbors are not always the best of friends, but these five women were. They had done nursery school, PTA, Little League, and soccer together. They had gone trick-or-treating together in costume with their children and weathered chicken pox and flu seasons constantly, exchanging remedies. They even hung their Christmas lights out on the same day so Ansley Court wouldn't be lopsided, as Tiffany liked to say.

Long ago the five families had bought a ramshackle old Victorian house, called a camp, for their summers. The house was set on a mountain lake. They shared their camp together throughout the warmer vacation months, and often into autumn weekends. They taught their kids to swim there, and more important how to identify poison ivy. The children had named it Camp Cozy. It had been a very comfortable and predictable lifestyle neatly bordered by the changing seasons. But now with Nora Buckley's fears out in the open, something was changing, and not necessarily for the better. They could all feel it.

Nora's husband, Jeff Buckley, wasn't at all like their husbands, and he had never made any real effort to be friendly. Sam Seligmann was Egret Pointe's favorite doctor. He had an old-fashioned general practice, rare in this day and age, but he was the kind of doctor his father had been, and he was content to follow in his father's footsteps. Carl Ulrich owned the local hardware store, which continued to flourish despite the Home Depot in a nearby new mall. Carl gave his customers personal service. He was knowledgeable, as were his two longtime employees. They were unlike the kids working at the mall, who didn't know a wing nut from a Brazil nut. Joe Pietro d'Angelo and Rick Johnson had a small country law practice in the village. They handled wills, house closings, a few local divorces, and other small matters usual to a country village. Carla was Joe's cousin. Only Jeff Buckley, partner in a prestigious advertising agency, commuted to the nearby city.

Jeff had been very ambitious and career oriented. He had never been around a great deal. He missed his son's Little League games each year, and despite the fact that the boy, named after him but called J. J., was star of the high school varsity soccer team, Jeff had never seen him play. And his daughter had fared no better. He had never seen her perform in a dance recital or a school play. She had gone to college in California, and had recently been accepted at Duke Law. Jeff enjoyed bragging about Jill's accomplishments.

He showed up at Camp Cozy two weekends a summer: over the Fourth of July and Labor Day weekends. He was pleasant enough when he was around, but the other men had absolutely nothing in common with him. It was Nora they all knew and liked. They tolerated her husband for her sake. Jeff was definitely the odd man out, and he didn't seem to care at all.

Nora Edwards had meet Jeffrey Buckley in her freshman year at college. He had been a senior. He was the quarterback of the football team, captain of the baseball team, and a brilliant scholar. He was the quintessential big man on campus. He had come to the freshman mixer with some fraternity buddies to check out the girls, looking for the sluts who could be easily fucked, and the nice girls who might be eventually seduced. But Jeff Buckley was ambitious, and wherever he was going, he would go to the top.

He had met Nora, and known immediately that this was the girl he wanted for a wife. She was perfect for him. She had the correct ethnic, religious, and political backgrounds. She was pretty in a subdued and ladylike way with her soft trusting eyes and her pageboy hairstyle. She wore a powder blue cashmere sweater set, and a strand of dainty pearls about her neck. She was an only child, innocent, carefully sheltered. She wasn't stupid. In fact she was very intelligent, but she was unsophisticated. Her girlfriends told her how lucky she was to have attracted a guy like Jeff Buckley, and having fallen half in love with him that first night, she believed them. And she believed Jeff Buckley. A pat from him, a flash of his smile, and she was lost.

But most important of all to Jeff was that Nora was a virgin. And he made sure that she stayed that way until he married her. The word went out on the campus that pretty Nora Edwards was the property of Jeff Buckley, quarterback of State's championship football team. On her birthday, November 30, he gave her his fraternity pin. She was serenaded by his fraternity just before the Christmas break, while standing in the cold before her dorm wearing the long dark green velvet formal gown she had worn to the Christmas dance at his fraternity house. Candles burned in the windows of the dorm, and the shadowed figures of the other girls could just be made out. She had almost frozen to death, but she had never shivered because she wanted him to be proud of her.

Nora had gone home with a cold, desperate to get well, as she was to spend New Year's Eve at Jeff's parents' home. His mother had called her mother and invited her. And on New Year's Eve Jeff had put his hand in Nora's underpants for the first time, fingering her clitoris until she almost fainted. When she had whimpered with her pleasure, he had stifled her cries with his kisses. At the fraternity's spring formal he had asked her to marry him, and put a ring on her finger before she might answer, but of course he had known the answer would be yes.

Here, however, Nora's parents had stepped into the romance. Nora was just eighteen. They wanted her to finish her college education, and they did not want her married until she did. When she was twenty-one they'd consider it. Jeff agreed. He had things to do before he entered into matrimony. He just didn't want Nora to get away.

After graduating he had gone on to earn a masters' degree in business at Harvard, and done a brief military service. Then he had joined Coutts and Wickham, a very prestigious advertising firm in the city. Nora had remained at her studies, kept safe from other possible suitors, chaperoned by her fiancй's fraternity brothers to the various university social events when Jeff couldn't join her.

Any young man approaching Nora was warned away in the strongest terms possible. One boy who refused to heed the warning was beaten up by unknown assailants. After that, no males approached Nora Edwards, but she never knew the lengths that Jeff had gone to, to keep her for himself. She had her studies, and everyone was so very nice to her.

Two weeks after her graduation with a degree in English literature, Nora Edwards had married Jeffrey Buckley in a large, tasteful all-white wedding, with six bridesmaids in white linen sheaths with narrow green ribbons at their waists, and wreaths of baby's breath with white rosebuds topping their heads. After a honeymoon in Bermuda, they had moved in with his parents for a year while their own house was being built. The lot on Ansley Court had been a wedding gift from their grandparents.

When the house was finally finished they had moved into it. Nora had spent her days decorating and gardening, making their home a place that Jeff was proud to show off. And she had immediately made friends with her neighbors, and the subsequent neighbors to come. She had gotten pregnant, and had her two children, Jill and J. J., born four years apart. The others had gotten pregnant too, or already had children. Jill and J. J. had grown up with the Seligmann, Ulrich, Johnson, and Pietro d'Angelo kids. Becky Seligmann, and Natalie Ulrich had baby-sat J. J. Carla's daughter, Maureen, would be graduating with J. J. shortly, leaving only the Pietro d'Angelo twins, Max and Brittany, on the court. They would graduate next year. And Ansley Court would be one big empty nest very soon. But no one planned to leave. Their homes were where their children and their grandchildren would come to visit, and there would be plenty of room.

Rina was already back to work for the county. So was Carla at the nearby hospital. Joanne was subbing for the local school district. Even Tiffany had been taking some law associate courses at the community college. She was going to help out in Rick and Joe's law firm. Only Nora seemed firmly stuck in place until now.

"Pretty soon I'll be the only one left here at home." She voiced her thoughts aloud.

"So do something," Rina encouraged. "You've got a degree. Go take a computer course at the adult ed when J. J. goes off to college. I did it last year. I had to. You have to have computer knowledge today to do anything, it seems."

"All I have is a B.A. in English lit," Nora replied. "Where is that going to get me in this day and age? I never took any teaching credits because I was going to marry and stay home after college. I took home ec courses."

"The women's lib movement was going strong, and you didn't prepare yourself for the eventual possibility that you might be on your own one day?" Rina shook her head. "I mean what was going to happen if Jeff kicked the bucket all of a sudden? Or was in a fatal car crash?"

"Or got shot by an outraged husband," Joanne murmured beneath her breath.

Carla shot her a hard look.

"Back then we thought the women's lib movement was just a bunch of lesbians, radicals, and liberals," Nora said. "No nice girl was going to get involved with them. Besides, I'm sure Jeff has made provisions for us in the event of a tragedy, although he would never believe anything could happen to him. He's always been very good that way," Nora loyally defended her husband.

"How is he set up for retirement?" Rina continued to pursue the matter. "Does he have profit sharing, a Keogh, four-oh-one-k, a traditional pension?"

Nora shrugged. "I don't know. We never discussed it."

"Well, you ought to know, hon." Now it was Carla who spoke up. God damnit, she thought, Nora has always been so darned trusting. She isn't stupid. Far from it. She's just too nice. Too polite. And Jeff had taken full advantage of it. He was probably very well-fixed. And, Carla considered grimly, if he intended dumping his current wife for a younger model, he probably had already hidden his assets pretty well. Rick had mentioned such things. Nora was going to need help. "You gotta find out what he's got," she advised her best friend. The other women nodded in agreement.

"How?" Nora said. "I haven't the foggiest idea of how to go about such a thing. Besides, I don't want Jeff to think I don't trust him. He's always been very good to me."

Carla looked for a moment as if she were going to explode, and Rina snorted scornfully, saying quietly, "You've been good to him too, sweetie." She turned. "Carla, do you think Rick could make a few discreet inquiries? I mean, just to give Nora an idea of the situation she's facing in the event of the worst-case scenario."

"I'll ask him," Carla agreed. And Rick would do it, or she'd kill him, Carla thought. Rina was right, although she would never say it aloud in front of Nora. Jeff Buckley was up to something. No one had to tell her he wasn't coming home a whole lot anymore. If anything was going to happen, it would happen soon. With J. J. graduating, and going off to State in August, it was the perfect time for Jeff Buckley to bail on his wife and family. Carla stood up. "I gotta go, girls. I'm working the three-to-eleven shift today. Maureen's doing supper for her dad. which probably means she'll con him into bringing home some KFC." She laughed. "The kid won't eat red meat, but she does love her KFC. Teenagers! Go figure."

"Tell her to have Rick bring me some too," Nora said. "Jeff probably won't be home either, and J. J. is studying with his girlfriend. Or at least they say they're studying," she finished with a wry smile.

"Oh," Tiffany said, "then this would be a perfect night for you to get The Channel, Nora! You really are going to like it."

"Can I get it during the day?" Nora asked.

Tiffany shook her head. "It's only available at night," she replied with a giggle.

"None of you has told me yet exactly what The Channel is," Nora said. "Is it old movies? What?"

"It's whatever you want it to be, and it's different for each of us," Joanne said quietly. "We all see The Channel through our own eyes. It's your perfect fantasy. You'll see when you watch it tonight."

"Will I like it?"

"I think you will, but it depends," Joanne told her. She stood up. "I've got to go too. The school district wants me to help out during exam week next month. I've got some prep work to do. Rina, the jelly sticks were heaven, as always."

"Come on," Carla said, pulling Nora up and linking her arm in Nora's. "I'll walk you home. Thanks, Rina. See ya, Tiff, Joanne!"

"Why are you all so mysterious about this channel thing?" Nora asked as they walked across the cul-de-sac. "And how come you haven't shared it with me before today? You don't usually keep stuff from me, Carla. Why this?"

Carla sighed. "Because The Channel is a secret," she answered honestly. "It's just for women, and it isn't for every woman. If you like it, you'll go back. If you don't, you won't, and you'll forget all about it. That's the way it is, and that's the way it's always been, I'm told. And most important, it's a secret no woman shares with a man. You'll understand once you've been there."

"That's weird," Nora responded. "I don't know if I want to get mixed up in something like that. Why can't any of you tell me what it is? Why is everyone so evasive? And all the hush-hush stuff. Is it something illegal?"

They had reached the Buckleys and stood outside continuing to talk.

"Joanne told you the truth. We all view The Channel through different eyes, Nora. I guess the best way to explain it is to say that The Channel lets you live out your fantasies. It's one thing for me, and another for the others. It will be entirely different for you too. Like I said earlier, it's an interactive thingy, sweetie. I don't understand how it works myself, but I sure love it."

"Oh," Nora said. She really didn't understand this computer and interactive stuff. It was all Greek to her. She supposed she was going to have to learn about it if she was going to survive in this strange new world that seemed to have evolved while she had been busy being a good wife and mother. With J. J. gone in just a few short months, it might just be the right time to take a few courses. Rina and Carla were right.

"Let me know how you like The Channel," Carla said, her brown eyes twinkling as she and Nora parted at the Buckleys' kitchen stoop. "See ya!" And she was off across the perfect green lawn to her own house next door.

Nora entered her house, walking through the kitchen into the den, where she sat wearily down in her recliner. Voicing her fears aloud to her friends this morning had finally made her wake up and think about what was happening around her. For twenty-six years she had devoted herself to Jeff, his wants, his needs, their children. Everything was for them. She had never asked anything for herself. Consequently she had grown into a pretty dull person, Nora admitted to herself. Jeff led an exciting life, but her life was so damned ordinary and colorless. Maybe The Channel could be her first step on the road to a new and exciting Nora.

When they had come to Ansley Court it had been exciting. She had loved being at home, decorating each room lovingly and thoughtfully, working out in her gardens with Mr. Handlemann from the nursery, choosing the plants and trees for their property. She had picked fabrics and paints. Bought furniture and carpets. Jeff wasn't interested in any of it. The house was hers, he told her. It was her realm to do with as she pleased as long as it was tasteful and elegant so they might eventually entertain his bosses and clients.

Jeff had gotten himself a job with Coutts and Wickham Advertising. In those days it had been a medium-sized agency. He was unusually clever at thinking up successful campaigns for the clients, and they liked him as well. Jeff had worked hard, but then, Nora thought, so had she. Their home was right out of Country Living. And in those early years she had entertained perfectly for the firm. Their Christmas parties had even been written up in the city paper's Sunday color supplement. And Jeff had been made a partner. The firm was now known as Buckley, Coutts and Wickham Advertising.

And the children had been carefully spaced four years apart. They were terrific kids. Jill had accelerated her college time. She would be through after the summer semester, having finished in just three years. Jill had already taken her LSAT exams and been accepted at Duke University's law school. She would start in late summer. J. J. was not as focused as his sister had been at eighteen. J. J. would take four or more years to get his degree, if Nora wasn't mistaken. But she had no doubt that when he found himself J. J. would excel in life.

Yes, Nora thought to herself, I really have to do something with myself. I've got to get a life of my own now. I've got a perfect house, a perfect lawn, and garden, great kids, but what the hell do I really want? If Jeff is really having an affair, if Rina is right, I could be losing everything. What would I do then? But Nora knew that there was no what-if about it. Her husband was obviously involved with someone else, and until she had said it aloud this morning, she hadn't been able to face it herself. Now she was facing it, and it scared the hell out of her.

What had happened to them? The revelation this morning that Jeff was a womanizer had been a bit of a shock, though. But hadn't she always looked at Jeff through rose-colored glasses from the moment she met him? Yes, she had, she acknowledged to herself. She was dewy-eyed, and he was an important senior on the State campus. She'd never really had a boyfriend until Jeff Buckley. The private school she had attended, Lane, had been an all-girls school.

Her late father had been very impressed with Jeff Buckley. "The boy comes from a solid family," Nora remembered him saying. Jeff Buckley. The perfect prospect. Quarterback. Senior-class president, head of the debating team, at a time when student bodies across America were protesting and rebelling. Jeff, however, did not rebel. Rebellion, he argued firmly, was both inefficient and time-consuming. You changed the system from within the system, not by encouraging anarchy. Jeff had been pure establishment. Nora had thought he was just wonderful, and he had won over her father immediately, calling him "sir." Her parents had met him that first Homecoming Weekend.

Nora's mother, however, worried that Jeff was a bit- what was the word she had used? Bossy? Yes! Bossy. But Nora hadn't minded. Her father had been controlling. It felt good to let someone else take charge. Now after all these years she wasn't so certain that her mother hadn't been right. Maybe her mother had been trying to warn her in some subtle way. But she wouldn't have listened to Margo at that time in her life anyway, Nora realized. She was in love, and it was wonderful! She had never dated anyone else. She was a virgin on their wedding night. She remembered he had been very pleased. It was obvious that Jeff wasn't a virgin, however, but his mastery had thrilled her innocent heart.

But he had never liked it when she showed what he considered undue enthusiasm in their lovemaking. He had once accused her of being whorish, which had hurt her feelings. She had thought he would be flattered by her newly awakened passions. That if you loved someone, you should show him that you did. Jeff was not of similar mind.

"I'd really be wondering about you, Nora," he had said to her, "if I hadn't popped your cherry myself. You really bled, baby."

The sex between them, at first red-hot, had quickly cooled. Not because Nora wanted it to, but because she wasn't allowed to really participate in a shared passion. The novelty wore off, and he seemed less interested. Looking back, it seemed to her as if his only interest in her sexually had been her virginity, and ability to give him children. Then five years ago sex between them had stopped entirely. She even remembered the date. It had been September 5, Labor Day weekend. Jeff had been drunk. He had called her Lanie. Oh, yes. The date was etched firmly in her mind.

Whenever her friends talked about their husbands' ardor, and the fact they weren't getting as much as they once had, Nora was silent. She knew they all assumed it was because she was reticent in discussing sex, but of course that wasn't it at all. If they had known about her situation, they would have pitied her. Nora didn't think she could stand being pitied because her husband no longer found her lustworthy. So she kept her mouth shut, and went on with her life as if everything were fine and dandy, but of course it wasn't. And now it appeared as if her husband was going to dump her like rubbish for another woman. A younger woman. There was no hiding from that.

"I'll bet they're having great sex," she grumbled to herself. She wondered what the other woman looked like. Probably blond. How old was she? Probably in her late twenties or early thirties, which was a good twenty or more years younger than Jeff. Women in their early thirties were really in their prime sexually. At least the kids were grown, or almost grown. There wouldn't be any nonsense about custody or visitation. Nora wondered how much they knew or suspected about Jeff's peccadilloes. Neither Jill nor J. J. had ever been close with their father. He had never been home enough to allow it, but she was very close with both of them.

Her thoughts led her right back to her problem. What was she going to do about it? Rina was right. Nora Buckley was helpless, and she didn't like the reality of that knowledge at all. What was the matter with her that she hadn't gotten a little bank account just for herself? Something for a rainy day. Jeff had never been really cheap with her, and she could have siphoned off some of her household moneys every month. He would have been none the wiser as long as it had been just a little at a time. But no. Nora Buckley had been too busy trying to please her husband to consider herself. What a fool she had been!

The phone rang, startling her. She picked it up.

"Hey, Ma!" J. J.'s voice came over the wire. "Lily's mom has invited me to stay overnight. She and Mr. Graham invited a friend to dinner. The guy's a bigwig at State. They wanted me to meet him. I told 'em it would be alright with you, right?"

"Why can't you come home afterwards?" Nora heard herself asking.

"Maaa!" J. J. sounded exasperated. "You'll make me look like a real dork if I have a curfew. What if this guy from State and I are in an important conversation? The clock strikes ten, and I have to get up, saying, 'I'm sorry, Mr. Blank, but my mommy wants me home.' Do you want me to look like a jerk?"

"No, of course not. What about clothing for tomorrow?" Nora asked her son.

"I'll jet over after school, grab some, and my toothbrush too. Okay?" He sounded anxious and so excited.

"Okay." Nora gave in gracefully. What other choice did she have?

"Great, Ma! See ya!" The phone went dead.

Nora set it down, but then as an afterthought picked up the phone again, dialing the Graham residence. Maris Graham answered. "Maris, Nora Buckley. J. J. just called. This isn't going to be a problem for you, is it? He can always come home."

"No, no," Maris Graham replied. "He can sleep in Peter's room. There are bunk beds there. Michael Collier is the director of admissions at State. I know J. J.'s gotten in without any difficulty, but I thought if Mike met J. J., he'd like him," she laughed. "What isn't to like? But I thought it might help J. J. get a better on-campus job, and maybe a bump in his scholarship money. I wish they could have met earlier, but Mike only gets down to see us once a year. He and John were at Princeton together."

"Well, fine, then," Nora replied. "And Maris, thanks so very much. You have been very kind to J. J., and we appreciate it."

"No problem. He's a good kid," came the response.

Nora had no sooner hung up the phone again when it rang once more. Her husband's voice came over the line.

"Don't you ever do anything but yak on the phone?" Jeff greeted her. "I've been trying to get you for hours."

Nora sighed. "Don't prevaricate, Jeff. I've been over at Rina's this morning. There were no messages." She pressed the caller ID. "You haven't called until just now, and I didn't get a beep. You must have dialed the wrong number. I was just on the phone with Maris Graham. J. J. is staying over there tonight. I wanted to make certain it was alright with Maris. What's up?"

"I can't get home tonight," he replied curtly, ignoring her explanation. "Big campaign, and the client is in from Detroit. By the time the meetings are over, and we've wined and dined him, it will be just too damned late. I'll stay at the company apartment."

"Of course," Nora said, an edge in her voice. "You stayed all weekend, Jeff, but of course I understand. Just remember that the Athletic Association awards at the school are Friday night. J. J. is picking up a scholarship for soccer from the local booster club. I damned well expect you to be there for your son!"

"What the hell has gotten into you?" he demanded. "The Change, I suppose. I work like a peon to keep you and the kids comfortable, and all you can do is bitch at me."

"I've been on hormone replacement therapy for two years now if you had ever bothered to notice. Are you having an affair, Jeff?" Nora shot back at him, astounded even as the words left her mouth that she had said them.

"I don't have to dignify that question with a reply, Nora," Jeff said loftily. "I'll call you later this week."

"Don't bother! Just be home for the awards. J. J. is your only son," Nora snapped. "At least the only one that I know of, dear."

The phone line went dead, but not before she had heard the sharp intake of his breath.

"Omigod!" she half whispered as she put the phone back down in its charger. He hadn't denied a thing. He had practically confirmed it by not answering her question. If he wasn't having an affair, he would have said so. But he hadn't said so. She was surprised that he hadn't asked her to define the word affair. When had Jeff become such a son of a bitch? Or had he always been that way, and she too blind to notice? You are in big trouble, girlfriend, she thought to herself. And you are all alone. Her father was dead, and she certainly wasn't going to go running to her mother. Margo had never really liked Jeff in the first place. She had no siblings. What the hell was she going to do? There was really no one to help her. It frightened her to realize that Jeff seemed to have all the cards in this terrible game they were playing.

Nora stood up and paced the room. She had no idea of the time, but it had to be afternoon because the sun was flooding the den with its bright light. She had never expected to come to this point in her life when she married Jeff. Nora believed when you got married, you stayed that way until one of you died. That was the way it had always been. That was the way it was supposed to be. It was like that here on Ansley Court, but then, they had all been lucky. No one worked at marriage anymore, it seemed. Divorce was so commonplace nowadays.

She walked into the front hallway and stared at herself in the large mirror over the hall table. Alright. She was heavier than the 120 pounds she had weighed when they were married. She wasn't a flaming redhead anymore. She pushed at the hair near her temples. It was faded even more than the rest of her head. She peered closely into the mirror. Okay. She had a few laugh lines around her eyes. But everyone she knew did too, damnit! But she wasn't a bad-looking woman. In fact she was in pretty good condition for a woman in her late forties if you overlooked the fact that her boobs were going south, and her waist wasn't quite as narrow as it had once been, and her thighs were a bit mottled. Weren't everyone's at this point?

Nora sighed. So she wasn't the girl he had married anymore. He wasn't the boy she had married either. But there was no doubt about it, unfair as it seemed. Men simply did age better than women in most cases. She knew that Jeff worked out at the gym in his office five days a week. He insisted on low-fat, low-carb meals when he was home. He didn't smoke, and drank rarely except very expensive wines. The truth was that he looked better now than he had when they were first married.

Nora wandered absently back into the den. He hadn't said anything to her yet, but he was going to, and she sensed it was coming soon. She flopped back on the couch. Damn! Damn! Damn! Damn! There was that niggling question again. What was she going to do to survive this disaster? Suddenly Nora was exhausted with her newly discovered tension. She dozed restlessly for how long she didn't know. Her confusion and reverie were broken by a young voice calling.

"Mrs. B.? It's me, Maureen. I've got your KFC."

"Thanks, honey," Nora called back. "Leave it on the counter, will you?" She didn't want Maureen to see her, for she realized that she had been crying in her sleep. She must really look like hell. If Maureen saw her, she would call Carla at the hospital, and Carla would call her. There was nothing anyone could do for her right now.

"Okay, Mrs. B. I ran into J. J. coming in. He said he didn't want to disturb you. He'll see you tomorrow. Daddy got you mashed potatoes and coleslaw. I hope that's alright," Maureen said.

"Fine, sweetie, my favorites," Nora assured her. "Tell your dad I said thanks, and ask him to let me know what I owe him, okay?" She heard the kitchen door close behind the girl. Standing up, she went out into her kitchen to get her dinner. Taking a plate down from the cabinet, she opened the cardboard box. Rick had gotten her a breast and two wings. It was still hot, and it smelled good. She put it on her plate along with the biscuit, which she buttered. Then she emptied the container of mashed potatoes and gravy onto the plate, opened the coleslaw and took it into the den. Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed a fork, a napkin, and a glass of peach iced tea. Back in the den she turned on Peter Jennings, and sat down to eat. The news was the same as always. War and a fluctuating stock market.

Mick and Jerry, the family cats, appeared magically, licking their chops and meowing. They looked up hopefully at Nora. She laughed, pulled the meat from the two wings, put it on a napkin, and set it down on the floor for the two felines to devour. When the news ended, she turned the set off. The clock on the fireplace mantle struck seven o'clock, and as it did she considered her conversation with her friends this morning. She was alone tonight. No one but her and the cats in the house. She could order this channel thing. They all seemed to like it, and damnit, she could use a lift. She suspected it was some sort of X-rated channel, but why not? Carla was her best friend in all the world, and Carla wouldn't steer her wrong. Nora picked up the telephone and dialed Suburban Cable.

Two rings, and an automated voice was droning in her ear. "Thank you for calling Suburban Cable. If you are experiencing technical difficulties, please press one. If you would like to order one of our pay-per-view movies, please press two. All other callers, please remain on the line for the next available representative. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received."

Was The Channel a movie? Nora wondered. No. Carla would have said so. She hung on the line as the elevator music kicked in, playing that golden oldie, and rather applicable to her situation, "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'." Nora felt a grin crease her face.

"Suburban Cable, this is Joyce. How may I help you?" a cheerful voice suddenly chirped in her ear.

"I… I'd like to order The Channel," Nora said, the words rushing out.

"Your telephone number, please," Joyce said, sounding totally disinterested in Nora's choice of entertainment.

"It's 567-2339," Nora replied.

"Buckley? At 720 Ansley Court?"

"Yes."

"And you are?" Joyce asked.

"Mrs. Buckley," Nora replied.

"Very good, Mrs. Buckley. You'll find your selection tonight on channel sixty-nine at eight p.m. Is there anything else I can do for you at this moment?"

"No. Thank you," Nora answered, and then she hung up. Omigod! She had done it. She giggled to herself, and began to finish her supper. She realized now that she couldn't wait until eight. It probably was a porn channel, she decided, but she didn't care. She and Jeff had once watched a couple of movies from the video store. Her husband had claimed to be turned off by them, or so he had said. Nora had thought the films silly, but they were certainly stimulating, she recalled. It was probably just what she needed. An evening of dirty movies, and a pint of caramel praline ice cream. She picked her chicken down to the bone and cleaned her plate of everything else.

Putting her dishes in the dishwasher, Nora went upstairs, showered quickly, and got into a clean nightshirt that had a teddy bear on the front of it claiming, "I don't do mornings." Giving her ice cream ten seconds in the microwave, she got a spoon and a glass of water, and set them on the table by her large recliner. Then settling into the chair with a contented sigh, she picked up the remote as the clock struck eight p.m., pressed it on, and coded in sixty-nine. The screen was black.

"Oh, for God's sakes," Nora muttered aloud. Did they forget to send her the signal? Damn! She had been looking forward to this.

But then suddenly the screen lightened, and a rather mellifluous voice said silkily, "Good evening, and welcome to The Channel, where your fantasies become your reality."

Well, that was certainly confusing, but absolutely intriguing. Then the screen changed again. Nora found herself looking into a rather large living room that came into perfect view. "Oh," she said softly. It was a beautiful room. Just like one she had always imagined, but certainly not one that Jeff would have liked. It was very modern and elegant. All glass and chrome and brass with large overstuffed white sofas and chairs, with emerald green and sapphire blue silk pillows. Even the carpet was creamy white. It looked as if when you stepped on it you would be ankle-deep in the pile. The lighting was indirect. There were candles on every table. In her imagination they would be scented and give off the faint fragrance of gardenia. She adored the smell of gardenia candles. Large windows offered a night cityscape. Dipping her spoon into her ice cream, she slid it into her mouth, enjoying the taste of the caramel praline on her tongue.

She heard the sound of a door opening and closing. A man came into her view. Nora gaped, the spoon halfway to her mouth again. The man, bronzed, and clad only in a white towel, was gorgeous. Absolutely, perfectly gorgeous! He appeared to be looking in her direction, and he smiled. The dazzling white teeth flashed against his tanned skin. All abs and pecs, and heaven only knew what else- she couldn't pull her eyes away from him.

His chest was broad and smooth. His waist and hips were narrow. He was tall with long, long legs. The full head of hair was raven black, cut short, but beautifully styled. Nora couldn't tell the color of his eyes beneath the bushy eyebrows, but hell! Did it really matter? Yeah, this was porn, but oh, baby! She couldn't wait to see the woman who would partner Mr. Gorgeous.

The man was looking directly at her, or at least it seemed he was looking directly at her. It was just the slightest bit eerie, Nora thought. Then he spoke, and of course the voice belonged with the buff body. It was deep with just the roughest edge to it. "Hello, Nora." He smiled again. It was a slightly crooked smile. "Hey, Red Rover, want to come over and play with me?" he crooned.

Nora smiled. When she was a kid they used to play a game called Red Rover. When she had first learned it she thought the boys were referring to her hair when they called to her, "Red Rover, come over." She stretched back in her recliner, waiting to see the hot babe who was undoubtedly about to appear. Why didn't Carla just say The Channel was a porn channel and let it go at that instead of making such a mystery of it? Probably thought I'd be shocked, Nora considered.

The man held out his hand. "Nora," he said quietly, "aren't you coming? You did order The Channel, and it has created that little fantasy you've kept hidden all these years. Do you just want to stare at me, or do you want to have some fun with me?"

A sudden chill of surprise swept down her spine. He was talking to her! No! He couldn't be talking to her.

"Are you afraid, Nora? You don't have to be afraid, you know," he assured her with another crooked smile. "This is your fantasy, after all. We aren't going to do anything that you don't want to do, I promise you, but I assure you I know just what you want, darling. But you don't trust men right now, do you? Well, I can't blame you, considering what Jeff has done to you all these years." He held out his hand once again. "Come on, Nora. Come and be with me for a while. You'll enjoy it, I guarantee you."

For the longest moment Nora couldn't move. She was absolutely frozen in her chair. Her heart was hammering in her ears. He really was talking to her. He was! She swallowed visibly. Her throat felt tight, but she managed to speak. "Who are you?"

"My name is Kyle," he told her, and he smiled a third time. "You like the name Kyle, don't you?"

"Yes." It was in fact one of her favorite names. Nora wasn't certain that she shouldn't be very afraid, but she realized that she wasn't. Startled, yes. Surprised? You betcha! But she was not afraid. "How do you know me?" she questioned him.

"Well, I suppose you could say I was a part of you, Nora, because this is, after all, your fantasy. You've kept it hidden away deep in your subconscious for a very long time because fantasies are illusionary and not really meant to be lived out. And many fantasies wouldn't be considered respectable." He grinned. "By requesting The Channel, however, you allowed your fantasies to be released. It allows you to interact with your fantasies. This is the apartment that you always dreamed of, isn't it? You've furnished it in your mind a thousand times over, haven't you?"

"Yes," she said slowly. "But how can this be possible? How can I be seeing it on my television, and talking to you?"

He shook his dark head. "I have absolutely no idea," he answered honestly. "My reality seems to be your fantasy."

"Omigod!" she half whispered. "I'm asleep, then. Right?"

"Nope," he told her. "You're very much awake, Nora, my darling. Come and join me now." This time the smile he gave her was seductive and slow. It promised to fulfill her deepest desires.

"How?"

He placed his palm against the television's screen from the opposite side so that it faced her. "Match your hand to mine," he said, "and we'll be together."

"I'll be with you? In that apartment?" Nora sounded dubious. "And just how do I get back here to my own house, then?"

"Every woman visiting The Channel is returned at the end of the evening," he replied. "It just happens. Carla wouldn't steer you wrong, Nora, darling. You know she wouldn't. Come on over, Red Rover, and play with me. I play nice, and you know you really want to be with me."

"I don't think so," Nora answered him.

"Why not? Afraid?" he half taunted her. "You never used to be afraid of anything when you were a kid, darling."

"Maybe you haven't noticed," Nora remarked dryly, "but I'm not a kid any longer. I'm closer to fifty than forty. I've got about thirty pounds on me I didn't have way back when. My hair is showing signs of graying, and you, Mr. Gorgeous, should have someone equally gorgeous." She reached for the remote. It was past time to turn this thing off. She had to be dreaming, but if she shut The Channel down and woke herself up, maybe, just maybe, she could catch Mystery on PBS.

"Don't send me away, Nora, darling," he pleaded, divining her intent. "This is your fantasy, and you actually have the chance to live it. Here you can be whatever you want to be, and do whatever you want to do. If younger and sexy is what you desire, then you shall be young and sexy. The Channel allows you this unique opportunity."

Nora hesitated, fascinated by his words, surprised that she was actually beginning to consider them seriously. "You mean if I want to be thirty again, one hundred and twenty pounds, and have perky boobs again, I can?" This was crazy. Why was she even listening to him? Then she smiled to herself. She was listening because he was charming, and very tempting. It had been forever since a man had spoken to her as if she was a sensual and intelligent woman. Not someone's wife, or mother, or servant.

"You can be whoever you want to be when you're with me," he repeated. "Tell me what you would wear," he enticed her softly.

"Something sexy. I don't know," she said.

"I'd like to see you in a teddy. Black lace against your white skin, and red hair," Kyle murmured low.

"But no bikini bottom," she answered him, blushing at the vocal thought. "No, no teddy. I think one of those little short robes. Black silk. Just grazing the tops of my thighs."

"Yes, I'd like that. Just long enough to cover your pretty little pussy," he said.

Her cheeks were burning with his words. "Why do you prefer the robe?" she asked him.

"Because it would make it a whole lot easier to fuck you," he admitted frankly. Then he laughed. "You're blushing again. I can see it even with just the light from the television on your face. How long has it been since you were well and truly fucked, Nora, my darling?"

"Years," she sighed gustily. "Hell, you know the answer, Kyle. You don't have to ask me, do you?"

"The first time we do it," he told her, "we'll do it quickly because you need it badly. Then after that, we'll do it slowly. I'll make you scream with your orgasm. Jeff never made you scream, but I can."

"No," she said, "Jeff never made me scream. All he wanted to do was to satisfy himself. Still it was better than nothing, which is what I've been getting for the last few years," she finished tightly.

"Pity the other woman, Nora darling," he said. "Once the novelty wears off he'll start treating her the way he's treated you. She's going to be stuck. In ten years Jeff will be ready for Social Security, but you'll have me, and anyone else you want, for as long as you want," Kyle told her. "Would you like to have a threesome with another guy? Of course you would, Nora. And you can whenever you want to, Red Rover."

"Would you be jealous if another man screwed me?" she asked him.

"If all I could do was just sit and watch, yeah, damned straight, I would be!" Kyle said. "But it's your fantasy, Nora. You can do whatever you want to do with me. You might say I'm your slave." The quick smile flashed again.

Nora drew a long, slow, deep breath to clear her head. She was almost dizzy with the possibilities he offered. This was certainly the wildest dream she had ever had. While she was a little afraid of it, it was also very exciting. None of it was really happening of course. It just couldn't be. Yet, what if it was real? No, she thought. It wasn't real. Things like this just didn't exist. But the thought of Mr. Gorgeous as her personal slave, her boy toy, made her giggle. "Do you know Carla?" she asked him, suddenly curious.

He shook his head. "Only that she's your best friend. I'm your fantasy, Nora. Carla has her own fantasy. Every woman is different. Every woman has her own secret and private world. Some fantasies are sexual in nature, as yours. Some noble, or just plain fun. Some people, I am told, enjoy reliving a happier time in their lives."

She grew quiet now as he stood silent in his white towel looking longingly at her. How old was he? He was one of those ageless men with no hint as to his years. And who was he really? Some actor probably. But how would an actor know her name, and all her secrets? Especially from the other side of a television screen. What the hell was going on? How was any of this possible if she wasn't dreaming?

Nora pinched herself, starting as she felt the painful pressure of her fingers on her flesh. That was most definitely real. "Omigod!" she whispered again. It was very real, and very Faustian to boot. She looked directly at Kyle. "If," she said, "and it's a pretty big if, I came over to your side of things, what's the price I'd have to pay for it? Who controls The Channel, and what do they want in exchange for my buying into it?"

"Your soul," he said, and when she gasped he laughed aloud. "Just kidding. You'll get charged three ninety-five on your cable bill for a movie every time you visit The Channel, or you can add it to your program package for twelve dollars a month. That's all there is to it. Nothing sinister at all."

"Suburban Cable just thought it would be fun for its bored, discontented, overweight housewives to have a little interactive amusement, huh?" Nora said caustically.

He shrugged. "I don't know. Nora, my darling, why can't you just accept what's happening? The apartment. Me. We've been created out of your deepest imagination. Why are you unhappy with us?"

"I don't understand it," Nora admitted to him.

"Do you have to understand everything?" he asked. "Look, Nora, your friends turned you on to The Channel because they thought it was time, and they felt you needed it. Right now your reality sucks, and you need your fantasies if you're going to survive what's coming. Isn't that so? Damn, Nora, I want to reach out, take you in my arms, and comfort you. This isn't bad. It's good. Put your hand on mine, darling, and come over, Red Rover. I'll make the sadness go away, I promise you. I will." He stood directly before her, filling the television screen, pressing his big palm, fingers outspread, up for her to match with his. "Nora," he begged her, "please!"

This is not real, one side of her brain said. You are not having a conversation with a man in the TV. Well, if it isn't real, then why don't you put your hand on his and prove it? the other side of her brain taunted her. What if she actually put her hand up and was zapped into that dream apartment with this dream man, and he turned out to be a monster? She laughed bitterly. Would he be any worse than the man to whom she was married? Who was about to leave her for another woman? This was a dream. It was! So she was going to put her hand on his, and maybe she would be in that apartment, and then what?

Go ahead, the little voice in her head pressed her. Why are you always so afraid to try something new? Whatever you do with Kyle, at least it's only in your imagination. Not like your cheating husband, who is probably banging his girlfriend right now without a thought for you, or the children you share.

She put her spoon aside, and arose from her recliner. Kneeling before the television, she matched her hand to his. One hundred and twenty pounds and a pair of perky boobs, here I come! And Nora smiled to herself as she thought it. Still it wasn't going to happen, and she knew it. But what the hell! It was only a wild dream. A wonderful wild dream. And then her head began to spin.