Journey (31 page)

She was talking about it to Bill one day, in mid-December. The network Christmas party was the next day, and she wasn't looking forward to it. Jack's latest battle call that she was flirting with Elliott on the air had escalated to his accusing her several times of sleeping with him. She was sure he knew that wasn't true, but he said it to upset her anyway. And he had even made a comment about it to their producer, which made her wonder now if Elliott's days on the show with her were numbered. She had thought about warning him, but when she said as much to Greg on the phone when he called, he told her not to. It would only make more trouble for her, which was probably exactly what Jack wanted.

“He's just trying to make you feel like hell, Mad,” Greg said practically. He was happy in New York, and talking about marrying his new girlfriend, but she had suggested he give it more time. She didn't think much of marriage these days, or at least thought he should be cautious.

And as she sat in Bill's kitchen on a Thursday afternoon, she felt infinitely tired and disillusioned. She wasn't looking forward to Christmas this year, and she
was trying to figure out how to get to Memphis to see Lizzie, or have her come to Washington, without Jack knowing. She had finally found a small apartment for her the previous weekend. It was cheerful and bright, and Maddy was in the process of having it repainted. She had made the deposit with a cashier's check, and she was confident that she could pay the rent, without Jack ever finding out about it.

“I hate lying to him,” Maddy said quietly over lunch with Bill. He had bought some caviar for them, and they were enjoying one of their rare, comfortable moments together. “But it's the only way I can do what I want and need. He's so unreasonable about Lizzie, and forbade me to see her.” What wasn't he unreasonable about, Bill thought, but for once he didn't say anything to her. He was less talkative than usual, and she wondered if something was bothering him. She knew the holidays were hard for him. And Margaret's birthday was that week, which was painful too. “Are you okay?” she asked, as she handed him a piece of toast with caviar, squeezed some lemon on it, and he took it from her.

“I don't know. This time of year always makes me nostalgic. Particularly this year. It's hard not to look back sometimes, instead of forward.” But Maddy thought he'd been better lately. He still talked about his wife a great deal, but he seemed to be torturing himself less over what had happened. He and Maddy had talked about it often, and she kept urging him to forgive himself, but it was easier said than done. She had the impression that when he wrote the book, he had worked his way through it. But the sorrow of her loss still weighed on him.

“The holidays are tough,” Maddy conceded. “At least
you'll be with your kids.” They were going to Vermont again, and she and Jack were going to Virginia, which she knew would be a lot less fun than what he was doing. Bill and his children were planning an old-fashioned Christmas. Jack hated holidays, and other than a few expensive gifts for her, made as little fuss about them as possible. He had been disappointed each year on Christmas as a child, and as an adult, refused to pay homage to it.

Bill surprised her by what he said next. “I wish I could spend Christmas with you, Maddy” He smiled sadly at her as he said it. It was an impossible dream, but a sweet thought. “My children would love to have you with us.”

“So would Lizzie,” she said, sounding resigned. She had already picked out wonderful Christmas gifts for her, and she had bought a few small things for Bill. She kept finding silly little gifts that reminded her of him, CDs, a warm scarf that looked just like him, and a set of old books that she hoped he would love. Nothing important and expensive, but all very personal, as tokens of the friendship they both cherished. She was saving them for the day before he left for Vermont, and was hoping to have lunch with him one last time before they both left town and went their separate ways until after New Year.

She smiled up at him then, as they ate the last of the caviar. He had bought pâté, and cheese and French bread, and a bottle of red wine. It was a very elegant picnic he had provided for her, a safe haven from the tensions of the world she lived in. “Sometimes I wonder why you put up with me. All I do is moan and whine about Jack, and I know that to you, it must look like I'm not doing anything about it. It must be hard to sit by and watch sometimes. How do you stand me?”

“That's an easy one to answer,” he smiled back at her. And took her breath away by what he said next, without pretense or hesitation. “I love you.” There was an instant's pause as she absorbed it, and realized what he meant. He meant it in the same way she would have said it to Lizzie, as protector and friend, not as a woman would say to a man, or vice versa. At least that was how she understood it.

“I love you too, Bill,” she said softly. “You're my best friend in the world.” What they shared had even surpassed what she'd shared with Greg, who seemed to have moved on to his own life. “You're like my family, almost like a big brother.”

But having said it, he was not going to back down. He stood very close to her, and put a hand on her shoulder. “That's not how I meant it, Maddy” he said clearly. “I mean it in a deeper sense, as a man. I love you,” he repeated, and she stared at him, not sure how to answer. He understood that too, and tried to put her at ease. But he was glad he had finally said it to her. It had been a long time coming. Six months of great intimacy, in all the ways that mattered. He was part of her daily life now, and only wished he could be more so. “You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I don't expect anything from you. I think I've been waiting for the last six months for you to change your life, and do something about Jack. But I understand how hard that is for you. I'm not even sure you ever will. I think I accept that. But I don't want to wait until you do, or if you do, to tell you that I love you. Life is short, and love is very special.” She was bowled over by what he was saying to her.

“You're very special too,” she said softly and leaned toward him to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned
slightly, and she wasn't sure how it happened, if she had done it, or he, but the next thing she knew she was kissing him, and he her, profoundly from their hearts and with considerable passion. And when they stopped, she looked at him with amazement. “How did that happen?”

“I think it was a long time coming,” he said, putting his arms around her, and worrying that he might have upset her. “Are you okay?” He looked down at her, and she nodded and leaned her head against him. He was considerably taller than she was, and she felt safe and happy in his arms, in a way she knew she had never known before. This was something completely different, and in its newness, it was both wonderful and scary.

“I think I am,” she said, looking up at him and trying to sort out her feelings. And then he kissed her again, and she did nothing to resist. On the contrary, she realized now that it was all she wanted. But it made what Jack had said about her true. She had never cheated on him, never looked at another man before, and she realized now that she was in love with Bill, and she had no idea what to do about it.

They sat down at the kitchen table, holding hands, and looked at each other. It was suddenly a whole new world between them. He had thrown open a door that they had both been standing near, and Maddy had never realized how grandiose the vista would be once he did it. “This is quite a Christmas gift,” she said with a shy smile, and he smiled broadly.

“Yes, it is, Maddy, isn't it? But I don't want you to feel pressured. I didn't plan this. I didn't expect it any more than you did. And I don't want you to feel guilty about it.” He knew her well now. There were times when just
breathing made her feel guilty, and this was a lot more than breathing. This was living.

“How am I supposed to feel? I'm married, Bill. I'm doing everything he accuses me of, and none of it was ever true before. Now it is … or it could be …”

“That depends how we handle it, and I suggest we move
very
slowly.” Although he knew now that he would have liked to move a great deal more quickly. But out of respect for her, he knew he couldn't. “I want to make you happy, not screw up your life.” But it certainly complicated it. And it forced her to look at her relationship with Jack in a way she had been avoiding. She had been catapulted into an entirely different situation with their first kiss.

“What am I going to do?” she asked Bill, but she was asking herself the same question. She was married to a man who treated her abominably. But in spite of that, she had a sense of loyalty to him, or at least that was what she called it.

“You're going to do what's right for you. I'm a big boy. I can deal with it. But whatever you decide about me, or about us, you still have to do something about Jack. You can't hide from that forever, Maddy” He was hoping that his love, and her knowing it now, would give her the strength she needed to escape him. In a sense, although she didn't want to think about it that way, he was her passport to freedom. But she was determined not to use him. She sensed that, if she wanted it to be, he could be her future. Bill Alexander was not a man to take lightly.

They chatted over lunch after that, eating cheese and drinking wine, and he made her laugh a little bit about their situation. He told her that, although he didn't recognize
it at first, he had fallen in love with her right from the beginning.

“I think I did too,” she admitted to him, “but I was afraid to face it. It seemed like the wrong thing to do, because of Jack.” And it still was, but it was stronger than she now, or either of them. “Jack will never forgive me for this, you know,” she said unhappily. “He'll never believe this hasn't been going on all along. He'll tell everyone in the world that I've been cheating on him.”

“He might have done that anyway, if you leave him.” And Bill prayed now more than ever that she would, for both their sakes. He felt as though an exquisite butterfly had landed on his hand, and he was afraid to touch or catch it. He just wanted to admire it and love it. “I think he's going to say some pretty ugly things, when you get free of him, regardless of me. He's not going to thank you for it, Maddy” It was the first time he had said “when” instead of “if,” and they both heard it. “The truth is, he needs you, more than you need him. You needed him to fulfill your fantasies about safety and marriage. But he needs you to feed his sickness, to satisfy his bloodlust, if you will. An abuser
needs
a victim.” She didn't answer him as she thought about it, and then silently she nodded.

It was after three o'clock when she left him, reluctantly. She wanted to stay with him, and they kissed for a long time before she left. There was a new dimension to their relationship now, a door that had been opened and could not be closed again, nor did either of them want to.

“Take care of yourself,” he whispered to her. “Be careful.”

“I will.” And then she smiled at him as he held her. “I
love you … and thank you for the caviar … and the kisses….”

“Anytime,” he smiled back at her, and he stood in the doorway and waved, as she drove away. They both had a lot to think about. Particularly Maddy

She was instantly nervous when her secretary told her Jack had called her twice in the last hour. She sat down at her desk, took a breath, and called his intercom number, terrified suddenly that someone might have seen her leaving Bill's house. And her hands were shaking when he answered.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“Christmas shopping,” she said quickly. The lie had come to her so easily that she was startled at her own willingness to deceive him. But she certainly couldn't tell him where she had been, or what she'd been doing. Although she'd thought about it on the way back, wondering if the right thing to do was to tell him the truth, that she was desperately unhappy with him, and in love with someone else. But she knew that it would be an invitation to him to abuse her. Unless she could leave immediately. And she knew she wasn't ready. In this case, honesty was not necessarily the right answer or at least not yet.

“I was calling you to tell you that I have to meet with President Armstrong tonight.” Hearing that surprised her. The President didn't seem well enough to her yet to be having evening meetings, but she didn't question him about it. It was easier not to. And she decided instantly that her suspicions about him were probably based on her own bad behavior. She hated to think about it that way. But she knew that whatever her feelings for him, what was happening with Bill was not the
right thing for a married woman to be doing, however damaged and flawed the marriage happened to be.

“That's okay,” she said in answer to his plans. “I need to pick some things up on my way home.” She wanted to buy some wrapping paper, and a few little gifts for her secretary and researcher, to give them at the Christmas party, more like stocking stuffers. She had already bought them both Cartier watches. “Do you need anything?” she asked, trying to be nice to him, to make up for her transgressions.

“What are you in such a good mood about?” he asked suspiciously, and she put it down to Christmas. He told her not to wait up for him, that it could be a long meeting, which made her even more doubtful about what he was doing. But she said nothing to him.

She did both her broadcasts that night feeling as though she were walking on air, and she called Bill twice, both before and after.

“You make me very happy.” And very scared, she wanted to add, but didn't. They didn't talk about what they were going to do, but savored the sweetness of it. She told him she was going to a nearby mall after work, to buy some things. And he told her he'd call her when she got home, since Jack was going to be out. And he didn't believe her husband was meeting with the President either. Phyllis had told them both, at the commission a few days before, that Jim was exhausted by late afternoon, and asleep by seven every night.

“Maybe Jack is sleeping with him,” Maddy teased, in unexpectedly good spirits.

“That would be a new twist.” Bill laughed at the suggestion, and they promised to talk later.