But it was ironic that she'd been talking about rape during first period, then just about gotten raped in the second period (what just about, she thought. That was definitely rape, even if he didn't get himself inside me). Now she wondered if she'd bring it up again. Probably better not to make as big a deal over it, she said to herself. If Leo had found out about her talking about rape, surely other people like Jack O'Neill could, too. Much as she hated the notion, it looked as if she were going to have to avoid doing anything that would bring her into contact with Jack O'Neill again.
So during that lecture and the next three after that, she mentioned rape as one of the devices used by the barbarians, but did not really elaborate at all. And no one asked her to do so either.
Actually, it was a good set of lectures, with the kids seeming a bit more attentive than usual, although one small girl who had smoked too much marijuana made a fool of herself by asking to use the bathroom and getting loot on the Marley High campus, which is somewhat hard to do if you've been there for more than an hour.
But it wasn't easy for Linda to stay calm for the rest of the school day. The only thing that kept her going was to think about how much she hated Jack O'Neill. If she thought about Steve, she'd be seized by spasms of guilt over what had happened – that somehow, some part of her had enjoyed the abhorrent experience. All she wanted was to get out of school and go put the experience behind her as quickly as possible. In the future, she supposed, she'd have to be very careful about any sort of contact with the principal. Imagine handcuffing someone and then shoving a vibrator up inside of them, thought Linda. And deep inside of her, one curious nerve wondered about that and the sensations that she'd never felt before in her 23 years of fife.
By the end of the day, Linda had begun to feel these conflicting emotions of anger and lust start to slip away from her. She wondered why she kept picturing that awful vibrator in her mind's eye, but by now she had also begun, as she always did, to think of dear sweet Steve, who would get her slowly worked up and romantic throughout the evening. He was so cute and cuddly that it drove her mad.
She wanted to be all ready for him tonight so he could kiss away her problems, so she rushed out of school and drove home quickly once her final class was done, rather than staying to chat in the teacher's room. Besides, she knew she'd get hassled about what the meeting with Jack O'Neill had been like by the others. All she wanted at this point was to feel Steve's soft skin and hot breath and little hands and fingers driving her crazy.
She burst into the door of their home in Woodland Oaks, intent on putting herself together to look as sexy as possible for her husband. But she realized that although the dresses she had were nice, they weren't really knockouts, things that would make him drool for her. A look through her closet confirmed her suspicion.
So she dashed out to a nearby shopping mall, the kind that dot the landscape in Southern California, and found one blue silk dress that clung to her like a second skin after an hour of looking. It made her feel naughty and nice at the same time as she looked in the mirror. God, she looked like a high-priced prostitute with it on, with her perfectly rounded melon-like breasts just straining to be released from the gossamer-like material. Her now throbbing nipples jutted upward like cherries, poking seductively through the silk fabric. And the blue material grabbed at her hips, buttocks and crotch like a glove, bringing up the same wonderfully full sensation welling up between her legs. God, she loved Steve so much, even if he seemed a bit befuddled and confused at times when they were in bed together. It didn't matter, she thought, giving herself one more good look in the mirror. So that's what Jack O'Neill got so crazy about, that filthy pervert. I wish I could kill that bastard, she told herself, as the flare-up of raging genital heat now died down and shame once more washed over her. She had to have Steve now, like never before. Everything would be all right once she was with Steve.
She quickly changed back into her school clothes and paid for the dress – $90 was what it cost, but as far as Linda was concerned, it would be worth every single penny. Then she drove home as fast as possible and took a bubble bath, then slipped into the new dress. Steve would be home in about half an hour to an hour, but she wanted to be good and ready for him. Dinner was a tasty casserole she could just pop into the microwave for a few minutes.
Then the telephone rang. She picked it up and a very proper woman's voice asked, "Is this Mrs. Linda White?"
"Yes, it is," she replied.
"Mrs. White, let me get straight to the point I'm Jack O'Neill's wife. I suspect that you have been having an affair with my husband, just from the way he's been talking to me about you. Is this true?"
Out of pure reflex, Linda giggled. The whole idea was so preposterous that she couldn't help it. This woman must be out of her mind just as much as her husband. And so she said, "You must be out of your mind, Mrs. O'Neill. I'm very happily married."
"I am not out of my mind, Mrs. White. My husband is a very fragile man and I'm afraid that you are pushing him over the edge."
There was a cruelness to Mrs. O'Neill's voice now that Linda found frightening. "Mrs. O'Neill," she said quietly, "if you knew what your husband had done, you'd not be calling me up, but you'd be making some sort of arrangement for him to receive professional help."
"I am a professional psychologist. You can look it up in the telephone book under Rosemary O'Neill, so I think I can say I've got a reasonably good handle on what's wrong with my husband."
"You do?"
"Yes. And I also have lots of powerful friends. I can get both you and your husband fired with the snap of my fingers. Do you understand?"
"Yes I do."
"Good. Now I suggest you get over to my house and we can work out some sort of… arrangement."
"What in the world do you mean by that?" Linda asked in a voice that shook with fright.
"I don't mean to frighten you, my dear," said Mrs. O'Neill, her voice softening a bit. "I'd feel much better about your assurances if I could meet you face to face. I don't think that's asking too much," she said.
"Will your husband be there?"
"Of course not. This won't take long at all, dear, but you are trying my patience."
"Alright. Uh, I'll be right over. Would you please tell me the address?" said Linda resignedly. There was obviously no way out from this madwoman.
After she got the address and hung up, Linda put on a light blouse and hustled out the door. With any luck, she'd be back in time to greet Steve.
She rushed over to the address, which turned out to be a big white colonial mansion-type house. The kinds of things teachers have to do, she thought as she rang the bell. I want to go back to Ohio.
A tall blonde haired woman, not much older than Linda, answered the door. "Are you Mrs. White?" she asked with a slight smile crossing her lips.
"Yes," said Linda meekly.
"Do come in."
"Thank you," said Linda as she stepped inside the opulently furnished home.
"I'm so glad you came by, Mrs. White," said Rosemary O'Neill, her voice a good deal warmer now. "Now please tell me what happened with my husband today."
CHAPTER THREE
Linda was having a hard time deciding what to do. She wanted to believe that this woman could somehow straighten out the mess with Jack O'Neill. And before driving the two miles to the house, she had sneaked a look at the phone book and found that Rosemary O'Neill was indeed a licensed clinical psychologist.
There wasn't much else she could do, she decided. Besides, Rosemary O'Neill seemed much easier to talk to in person than she had over the telephone. She was very tastefully dressed in a jumpsuit that showed off an athletic body and accented her long blonde hair.