Daniella sat alone on the buttery soft seat along the back of the stretch limo. She glared at both her spouse and her absentee mother, talking like two long-lost soul mates who found each other thanks to Dr. Phil.

“Look at ‘em. Two darling little rotten peas in a pod” she notioned. “When it comes to stealing emotions, this pair would rival the antics of Bonnie and Clyde.”

The hired driver went straight to the Donovan abode as if he’d been there before. Stan was the one for limos when he traveled to meet with potential endorsers. If not for living his old dream time and again before having to exit the hallowed sports ground Soldier Field before he blew out a kneecap when scoring a tie-breaking touchdown against the Kansas City Chiefs. Those were the days when she and Stan were living larger than large. In fact, they were living in an economic stratosphere.

Private access to the over 7,000 square foot Skyline Suite.  Card carrying members of the Cadillac Club.  Wall-to-wall flat-screen television;  their own personal attendant; never having to leave their seats to do anything by eliminate the drinks you may have had one too many of during the games and after-parties. And of course, the Soldier’s Den. It was one of those places where a few executives had a little off-side and holding experiences of their own while their wives talked about the next big charity event on Michigan Avenue.

Daniella wanted to erase “The Den” from her psyche. It’s where she found her husband with one of his loyal fans, Gina, who had her own way of giving an ex-fiancée ex-football hero her own special oral adulation.

“Why  didn’t I leave him just then?” she verbally rebuked herself. “Was I so blinded by all the glamour?  Was I afraid of being all alone?”

Was I just plain nuts?”

The affection hadn’t been the same since. She’d been Stan’s wife for only six months when it happened. She was also five weeks pregnant. It was the night after that big game that she wanted to tell Stan that he was about to become a father.  But that next morning, she bled. Drove herself to the hospital. Daniella remembered the cramps. They were so piercing; so severe. She never wanted to feel that way again.

So while Stan was out signing autographs at a nearby community center, she decided to have both of her ovaries removed. All the irony of her husband being a role model for those inner city kids; and she can’t even have him as a role model husband.

But she was a softie. That’s why she stayed with the man. Figured that maybe they were never meant to have children. Besides, children needed a father that they could count on to be there.

But thanks to dear mother Eileen, she had bankrupted her own father for her own selfish purposes. As a result, he lost his grip on reality. And as a seven year old child, Daniella would never ever forgive her mother for such a merciless misdeed.

They reached Serenity in what seemed to be seconds later. Daniella was totally turned off by the fact that she, of all people, had to play hostess to a woman who only knew how to take-take-take. The driver got out, opened the back door to let out his passengers. Then he walked around to the trunk to remove Eileen’s Diane Von Furstenberg canvas shopping tote, a Gucci cosmetic case, and her Louis Vuitton garment bag.

“Will there be anything else Mr. Donovan?” the driver asked.

“No thank you” Stan replied. “That’ll be all.”

“Yes sir!” The man tipped his navy blue chauffer cap, got back into the car, and drove away.

That voice. . . Daniella said to herself. “There’s just something about the driver’s voice!”

Since all of the doors were locked, Simon used the garage door opener on his leather key fob. It had been programmed so that even if Daniella needed it, she has to ask permission to use it.

“Well well well! Just what have we here! Eileen noticed a single white long stem rose lying on the driveway right next to the garage door.  

Daniella was silent.

“Humph!” Stan muttered. “What’s this thing?”

“Oh, nothing, . . . honey”. Daniella was still on overload with sarcasm to spare. “It’s only a memento from Primo Thursday.”

“So who the hell is giving my wife long stem roses?”

“Stan, it was part of the décor. I just brought one home, that’s all. I was worried sick about you not being here. So I decided since I couldn’t get into the house that I’d spend the night at the hotel.”

“Mercy sugar, will surprises never cease tonight?” said Eileen, with devious deliberation while eyeballing Daniella. “Next thing you know you two will be telling me that I’m about to become a grandmother!”

But that was a choice that was decided long ago, without her mother’s permission. Just like the one where she chose, without Stan’s permission to live in a sexless marriage when those damn crotchless panties of Gina’s came in the mail less than one year ago.

* * *

With five bedrooms, it was easy for Daniella to live out her vow of marital celibacy because of her husband’s unforgiven fling. The shower was running, so Eileen assumed that it was Stan, preparing for a delicious midmorning Friday brunch. Although she and her daughter were not that close, Eileen figured that with all the southern hospitality in Herrington, that some of that charm might have rubbed off on her overly-uppity educated daughter. The one thing that she could credit her mother for was learning how to at least fix a hearty breakfast. And for Stan she knew by far that he truly deserved the breakfast of  a king.

“He’s just so right for Daniella and she ought to thank her lucky stars that he decided to keep her by his side. I couldn’t imagine a more gallant, handsome son-in-law to have in the family. After all, she’d never have to fret for anything. And this home was big enough for lots of grandchildren!,” Eileen continued to day-dream as she embarked down the mahogany wood stairs.

To most women, Stanford Donovan may have been quite the catch. In fact most women even to this day flirt mercilessly with the man, regardless of whether he was wearing his wedding band or not. His frame sported a 6’4, 280 pounds of firm masculinity. He always shaved his head because he didn’t have time for stylists. Especially the ones who prided themselves on making house calls.

He wasn’t much of a fashionable dresser unless he knew he would be seen at the golf course or the tennis club. And of course all of his really snazzy suits, he saved for press conferences. The whole of his investments with private businessmen was mostly one where he surrounded he and Danielle with all the earthly material pleasures money could afford. 

Waiting for her in the kitchen was something Eileen didn’t really expect.

Mother, since you have brought it upon yourself to interfere in my life after being invisible for so long, I have no other choice but to leave home. But just for a while. I have clients and I figure, knowing you, that you won’t overstay your welcome.” Your only child, Dani.

With note in hand, Eileen stood in the middle of the breakfast room totally dumbfounded. Where in the world could Dani have gone to? And how rude of her, after all I  didn’t have to come back! But she felt she had to, considering the circumstances. But now Daniella would never know the truth about her father.

Stan came down, thinking that Dani and her mother might have made amends. After all, there was no screaming like her last visit when Eileen left the country five years ago. Instead of his wife and mother in law in the kitchen, he found only Eileen, slumped on her knees, crying bitterly.

At the Fox Brook Regional Airport, Daniella went through customs without a hitch. That was one of the advantages of being the spouse of an internationally-famous endorsed sports use-to-be. As she got ready to board the jet at Kennedy International with her one way ticket to London, she wondered what she would find. Would she find her father Walter at least physically well? Would he even recall Daniella’s face, or the nickname he gave her, “Baby D”?

And how would she explain to him her visit without Stan?

It wasn’t that she hated Eileen Wells Dixon. It was just her greedy behavior that made Daniella so annoyed about their relationship. And as far as her return to American, well, that all depended on the answers she was desperately seeking. Then maybe she might be able to live with the thought of at least ridding herself of some of the toxic hate she held for her own mother.

All she could do is hope for the best. As she entered the first-class cabin of the British Airways Flight 234 to Heathrow after taking the red-eye at 8:30 a.m. that morning, her timing had to be right. Stan never stirred a muscle before 10:00 a.m., especially after having had intimate relations.

“Íntimate”—she thought. It was more like an alibi to keep him from getting suspicious.

But all the while that her husband’s hands were probing the warm, wet crevices of her body as she faked an Emmy-winning soap-opera bedroom performance—even though it was a welcome relief from the vibrator—Daniella Dixon Donovan guiltily thought of only one man she’d be temped to share her body and her mind at the same time with. Besides Stan had his secret collection of internet erotica to keep his masculinity well lubed.

But when it came to committing adultery, Daniella was of a different cloth that her husband. Her faith in God wouldn’t allow such mental adultery without a prayer of repentance.  She would never want to be faced with being a hypocrite of her faith.

“Final boarding call for Flight 234 to London Heathrow!”

As passengers were all being seated in business class, Daniella decides to freshen up before the pilot suspended her in space for eight, hopefully uneventful hours over the Atlantic.  A one way ticket was all she needed, but at times she felt like the greedy who thumb their nose at the needy paying nearly $1,500.  But her mother wouldn''t blink twice about all the travel miles logged while living lavishly on her father''s investments.

Daniella exits her aisle only to find that she has to wait in line for two other women in front of her. They must have had the same idea.

“Oh for the sake of Mother Rosa why is it that no matter where you go, more than one woman always find an excuse to get up and pee right at the last minute, and then take up at least 10 minutes in the toilet room? I hope they left at least two and a half sheets of toilet paper. Some women!. . . ”

Just as the fasten seatbelt light flashes, Daniella just makes it out of the lavatory just moments before they taxi down the runway. Venturing back into the first class section she sees the back of a head sitting on a pair of broad shoulders donning smartly-dressed business attire. "Oh great! I thought that at least on a Friday morning that I''d have a partial row all to myself."

5C next to her, reaching underneath seat as if he’s lost something.

 “Excuse me sir, I’m sitting by the window in Seat D, do you mind if. . . .” 

When the man looked up, and Danielle could have wet herself in shock.  There he was, a voice that responded to her was as refreshing as a rose.

“Hello Daniella. What a fascinating surprise.”

The End. . .? Think again. . . (link below  continues the tale!)
 © 2005 cynth''ya lewis reed
all rights reserved.