Answered Prayers (8 page)

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Authors: Danielle Steel

BOOK: Answered Prayers
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“He can't do that to you. You can't let him. And I won't let you. I think I came to Charlie's funeral for a reason. I think Jack sent me to you to kick your ass.”

“Now there's an appealing prospect,” she said, laughing. “Maybe you're right.”

“What would Jack say if you told him about this?” Brad asked. It was an interesting question, and he knew the answer before she said the words.

“He'd be mad as hell. He hated Alex. And Alex didn't think much of him. They were always at each other's throats.”

“For good reason, if this is what Alex did to you when Jack was alive. You didn't answer my question. What would Jack say?” He wanted her to think about it. He knew her brother would hold more sway than he.

“He'd tell me the same thing you did. Go to school.”

“I rest my case.”

“You don't have to live with Alex.”

“Maybe neither should you. If he can't behave like a civilized, decent human being, he doesn't deserve you. And I think Jack would have said that too.”

“Probably. But look at who he lived with. Debbie made Alex look easy to live with. She was a lot more unreasonable than he.”

“Look, all I want is for you to be happy. You didn't look happy to me when I saw you. You look bored and sad, and lonely. If this is what you want, go for it. More than anything, you need a dream. We all do. This is mine out here. I've never been happier in my life than since I opened this office.” The only trouble was he still had to go home at night, but he didn't say that to Faith. If he could have slept at the office, to avoid Pam, he would. Things had reached an almost intolerable level of late. He and Pam were what the English called “chalk and cheese.” It was not a good combination, but his parents had had an ugly divorce when he was in his teens, and he did not want to do the same thing. So he had made his peace with his differences with Pam. It was Pam who was nipping at his heels these days, complaining about everything he did, and arguing with him about the fact that he was never at home. And she was right. He didn't want to be. But he had no intention of leaving her, and knew he never would. It was simpler this way.

“Do I look as bad as that?” Faith sounded distressed. “I'm not that unhappy, Brad. We just have differences about some things.”

“And he's never there. You said so yourself. He didn't even come to Charlie's funeral with you. What's that all about?” He knew more than anyone about marital stress.

“I told you, he had to be in Chicago. He had meetings at Unipam.”

“So what? They could have waited a day. Charlie was only going to get buried once. You could have used the support.”

“It was okay … and you were there.”

“I'm glad I was. And listen, I can't criticize your marriage. My own is nothing to brag about either. All I'm saying is that if he's not there for you a lot of the time, he owes you one. He can't have it both ways. He can't do his own thing most of the time, and still expect you to sit home waiting for him. If he has a life, then you should have one too.”

“He doesn't see it that way.” She sounded discouraged.

“He will, if you refuse to give in. I promise. You have to stick up for yourself.”

“It's not that easy,” she said sadly. Alex had a will of iron, and he was going to torture her till she gave up, just as he had before.

“I know it's hard, Fred. But it's worthwhile. You have no choice. If you don't stick to your guns on this, your life will be miserable, and then you will feel old, and depressed. I think your mental health and well-being are at stake.”

“You make it sound like life and death,” she smiled as she sat in her small study and thought of him. He was a terrific friend.

“In some ways it is. I want you to really think about it.”

“I will.” What he had said to her made sense, she just didn't know how she was going to convince Alex. But maybe Brad was right, maybe with enough energy and conviction, she could. It was worth a try at least. “How's everything with you?”

“Busy. Crazy. I've got half a dozen new cases, big ones. We're up to our ears in shit.”

“Lucky you. It sounds like fun,” she said enviously.

“It is.” They chatted for a few more minutes, and then he had to get off, but he promised to e-mail her or call her soon, and she knew he would. He had been so amazingly helpful in these last two weeks. He had given her focus and perspective and strength, as well as love and support. It was an unbeatable combination and she was grateful to him. And more than that, he had strengthened her resolve to tackle Alex—and win.

4

W
HEN
A
LEX CAME HOME FROM
M
IAMI, HE WAS IN A
dreadful mood. Faith knew enough not to question him about it. Obviously, the meetings had not gone well. She cooked dinner for him in silence, and as soon as he finished his last mouthful, he got up, went upstairs, showered, and went to bed. He hadn't said a single word to her while they ate. And it was only the next morning at breakfast that he asked her how she was.

“Fine,” she said, pouring him a cup of coffee. She had made him oatmeal, berries, and muffins, and he seemed in a slightly better mood. “Tough trip?” He nodded, but did not volunteer any details. He was like that. When things didn't go the way he wanted, he never had much to say. And if they were going well, she could see it by his demeanor, but he kept the news to himself.

“I talked to Eloise in London,” Faith offered, as he read
The Wall Street Journal.
He didn't seem to hear what she said, and it was a full five minutes later when he spoke from behind the paper.

“How was she?”

“Fine.” Faith was used to his style, and knew what he was asking. “She's coming home for Thanksgiving, for the long weekend.”

“Good.” He put the paper down then, and stood up, as he glanced first at his watch, and then at his wife. “I don't have time to discuss it with you now, Faith. But I wanted to let you know that I've given a lot of thought to what we discussed.”

“About what?”

“Your pipe dream about law school. I want you to know now, clearly, that I will not agree. You'll have to find something else to do.” He didn't wait for her to comment but turned on his heel and walked out of the room. And the way he did it instantly infuriated her. In the past, she would have been crushed. But this time, for some reason, she was outraged, and she followed after him into the hall. He was putting on his raincoat, it was pouring outside.

“You can't just dismiss me like that, Alex. And it's not a pipe dream. It's a reasonable thing I want to do. I'm willing to put the work into it, and to make it work for us too.”

He looked at her with an icy stare that had quelled her for years. “I'm not. I'm not going to live with a full-time student, and all the stress and nonsense that entails. You're my wife, Faith. You have an obligation to hold up your end of the deal.”

“So do you,” she shot back. “This isn't fair. Why can't you respect me as a person, and realize that I need something in my life, something intelligent to do, now that the girls are gone?”

“See a psychiatrist if you're having trouble adjusting to the girls leaving home. Don't go off half-cocked trying to recapture your youth. The truth is you can't.”

“You act like I'm a hundred years old. I'm not.”

“I'm well aware of your age, Faith. You're not a kid, don't act like one. You're not a child. This whole project is childish and immature. Act like an adult. Your daughters are gone. You're married. You have responsibilities to me. You can't fulfill them if you're in school.” It was all about him. It always was.

“What are you worried about? That I can't handle an occasional dinner party because I'm in school? I'm not going to the moon for heaven's sake. I'll be here. I told you, I can make it work.” She sounded desperate and was near tears. He had never before been quite as unreasonable as this. But she had never challenged him to this extent.

“You have no idea what you're talking about, Faith. Law school is all-consuming. You won't have time for anything else. And I have a voice in that.”

“Don't I?” she asked, as tears burned her eyes.

“Not in this case. That's the end of it, as far as I'm concerned. Find something else to do.” And with that, before she could say another word, he opened the front door and stepped out into the rain, as Faith stood staring at him. The Iceman. Zoe was right.

Alex closed the door firmly behind him, and Faith went back to the cozy wood-paneled kitchen and sat down. Their breakfast dishes were still on the table, and all she could do was cry. Great, long, wracking sobs. She felt as though she had been put in jail. He acted as though he owned her, as though what she felt and wanted were of absolutely no consequence to him. She had never felt as powerless in her life. And she was still crying when she finally stood up and put the dishes in the dishwasher, and went upstairs to their room.

She stood for a long time, looking out the window at the rain. She was monumentally depressed. And when Brad e-mailed her that afternoon, she didn't answer. She felt as though she had failed him too. He expected so much of her, but he didn't know Alex. No one did. Not like this. Other people thought him reasonable and intelligent and thoughtful. No one but Faith and his children knew how ice cold he was, or could be. He had to have everything his way. Zoe had had countless arguments like this with him, and had eventually given up discussing anything with him. She had shut him out. Only Eloise seemed able to reason with him. He regarded their world as his freedom, and Faith felt like his slave. Brad was right.

Faith was depressed for the next two days, and they barely spoke to each other at breakfast and dinner. And finally, two days after Alex had issued his ultimatum, Brad sent her another e-mail.

“Hey, are you okay? You've gone very quiet. Something wrong? I'm worried about you. Let me know you're alive. Love, Brad.”

With a long sigh, she began typing on the keyboard, but there wasn't much to say.

“Lost the war. Alex told me that law school is out of the question. In his view, it conflicts with my responsibilities to him. He hasn't spoken to me all week. He laid down the law and that was it. And now I'm depressed. Besides, it has rained here all week. I'm miserable and feel like shit. Eating worms, I guess. Now what am I going to do for the rest of my life? Love, Fred.”

His answer came back almost instantly. He was at his desk when her e-mail came in. And as soon as he read it, he was profoundly upset. He thought about calling her, but decided to e-mail instead.

“This sounds bad. Hang in, Fred. You're depressed because you feel like you lost control of your life. For good reason. You have. I'm not telling you what to do, only you can decide. But if you let him do this to you, give you orders and ultimatums, you're going to be depressed. Very. Do you feel like you can do something to take some of the power back? Whatever feels comfortable to you. You decide what and how much. But you have to do something. You can't be treated like a child. Or worse, a thing. He has to respect your needs too. And if he can't, you have to. High price to pay if you don't. I know, I've been there. It feels very high risk to challenge that, particularly with people like him and Pam. But if you don't, you lose you. Bad place to be.

“Figure out what you need to do to feel a little more in control, or a lot more if you prefer, and then hold your nose and jump. It's worth it. I'll hold your hand as best I can. Now get out your umbrella and go for a walk. Sounds like you need some air. I'm here if you need me. And if you kill him, I'll defend you. Justifiable homicide for sure. Open and shut. Love, Brad.”

She smiled as she read it, and deleted it so no one would ever see what he wrote. The part about killing Alex might upset the girls, to say the least. And then she decided to take his advice. She put boots on, and a slicker, and left the house. He was right, she needed air, and it gave her time to think. She walked down Lexington Avenue and back up Fifth, along the park. She didn't realize it while she was walking, but she was gone for two hours, and it did her a world of good. He was absolutely right. She had to take back some kind of power. Alex was treating her as though he owned her, as though she were an object he had bought. And she was no longer willing to let him do that. It was a huge change for her. She had hoped he would be reasonable and agree, but since he hadn't, she knew now what she wanted to do. She was going to send in the forms for Continuing Ed and the LSAT prep. It was a start at least. She could decide later what she wanted to do about law school. But this way, she'd have a choice. The LSAT prep course was to begin the next week, and he didn't need to know. She still had three months to reason with Alex, take her LSAT, fill out her applications, and make up her own mind. Applying to law school would give her options, and just making the decision to go to Continuing Ed classes gave her a sense of control.

She mailed the forms that afternoon. As they dropped into the mailbox, she stood there in the pouring rain and smiled. There was a knot of angst in her stomach, but at the same time she had a lighter heart, and clearer head. She knew she had done the right thing. She ran back to the house and called Brad. He answered his inside line.

“I did it!” she said exuberantly, and he knew instantly who it was. She felt like a kid who had just won the spelling bee at school. First prize.

“What did you do?” he asked with a smile, as he leaned back in his chair, and tipped it on two legs.

“You were right. First, I went for a walk in the rain. A long walk. And then I came home, grabbed the forms, and sent them off. I just dropped them in the mailbox on the corner and I feel great. The LSAT prep class starts next week. I'm not going to say anything to Alex, I'll just go.” She felt dishonest but powerful and much more in control.

“At least I did something to take back the power. I feel human again.” She was amazed at how fast her actions had brought her relief from the crushing depression she'd been in.

“I'm glad, Fred. I was worried about you. You sounded pretty bad.” Worse than that in fact. “And I'm so proud of you!”

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