Authors: Barbara Delinsky
"Did you?" Jon asked Sam.
There was a split second during which Sam might have denied it, but he kept hearing his warning to clients. "I need to know it all, the whole truth," he always said. "Tell me that, and we can work with it. Tell me only half of the truth, or lie to me, and when I'm surprised down the road, I'm gone." Instinct told him that if he lied now, he would pay ten times over.
"Ah hell," John Stewart exploded, "I knew he was trouble. I knew they both were. Good job, John David, good job."
Before the last was out, J.D. had taken his parents'
arms and was urging them toward the door. "I think you'd better leave. We have things to discuss."
John Stewart wasn't budging. "I warned you."
"Not now, Dad."
"Trust me," you said. "I know what I'm doing," you said. Now look what's happened."
"Dad--"
Sam wasn't waiting to hear what J.S. would say next. Crossing the floor in two strides, he said in a low voice, "We have a difficult situation here. Michael still has a ways to go before he's out of the woods, the others are upset, and quite frankly, I'm not sure what to do or say myself."
"You should have thought--"
"Enough, J.S. Say what you want, but later. We need to be alone now." He appealed to Lucy. "Take J.S. home, please? Give us a little time. We have to try to find a way to deal with all this."
"He's right, John," Lucy said in an anxious voice, and plucked at her husband's arm. "John David will call us later, won't you, John David?"
J.D. ushered them through the door without answering.
"Call me," J.S. ordered.
"Fine," J.D. said.
Sam should have felt relief when the elder Maxwells moved on down the hall, but the worst was ahead, he knew. Thrusting a hand through his hair, he stood facing the door for another minute before turning around slowly.
All eyes were on him--Leigh's and Jon's from beside the bed, Zoe's and Jana's from the middle of the floor, Annie's from the window, Teke's from the wall. J.D. walked in and took up a position against the hall window with his arms crossed over his chest. The pose said he would be no help at all.
Jana broke the silence in a voice with a hostile
edge. "That was why Michael ran out of the house, wasn't it?" Sam reminded himself that Jana was little more than a child, that they were all little more than children --granted, modern children who were used to frank discussions, but children nonetheless. They had just learned that two of the most trusted adults in their lives were flawed. Hostility was to be expected.
He chose his words with care. "Michael saw something he didn't understand."
Jon was as hostile as Jana. "He's not two years old, and he's not dumb. You knew what they were doing, didn't you, Michael." Michael kept his eyes shut.
"Right," Sam said. "Now if he thought I was raping his mother, he would have jumped on me, hit me, done something to get me away, but he didn't do any of that, so we have to assume that he assumed that his mother and I were having an affair. But that's wrong. We were not having an affair."
"Then what was it?" Jon asked.
"A onetime lapse of judgment."
"You always said monogamy was best."
"It is--"
"And that we should be loyal to the people we love, so now you screw fidelity when you get the urge."
"I didn't 'get the urge' to be with Teke," Sam argued, "any more than she 'got the urge' to be with me."
"Then why did you do it?" Leigh asked, turning bewildered eyes on Teke.
Teke put her fingers to her lips, as though holding back words until the right ones came. Finally she said, "Yes, a lapse of judgment. I have never been unfaithful to your father at any other time in our marriage."
"But how could you have done it now?" Leigh asked. Before Teke could answer, Jana said, "I knew there was something wrong. You weren't looking at each other, or talking to each other." She turned to J.D. "You've known for a while, haven't you?" J.D. nodded. His arms remained folded over his chest, his feet crossed at the ankles.
Zoe, who had inched her way toward Annie's elbow, whispered, "You too?"
Annie's head remained half-bowed. She hesitated, then nodded.
"How could he do this to you?" Jon asked in horror. Sam felt the cutting edge of his question. It made him want to wrap a protective arm around Annie. But he feared that if he tried, she would slip away. In front of the children, that would make things worse. Annie shot a teary look at the ceiling. She sighed raggedly. Finally, with a self-deprecating smile she said, "I'm still trying to figure that out."
Zoe came closer and slipped a hand through hers.
Sam tried to make eye contact with Zoe, but she refused to look his way. As much as it hurt him to see Annie in pain, this hurt him, too. He and Zoe had always been close. She was his little girl, would always be his little girl. But she wouldn't look at him.
"Look," Sam said sadly, "what happened is over and done. The past days have been hell. Michael is still our first priority." All heads flew to the bed. Michael's eyes were closed.
"Is he all right?" Zoe whispered.
"Michael?" Leigh called, shaking his shoulder gently. Michael opened his eyes enough to let her know that he'd heard, then he faded out again.
"Maybe he doesn't want to see you," Jana told Sam with an inclusive glance at Teke.
Sam refused to blink. "Maybe he doesn't, but I'll still be hanging around, doing my best to help him get back on his feet."
"Maybe my father doesn't want that," Jana had the gall to say. Sam wondered if she had always resented him or whether she was simply reacting in defense of J.D. Either case spelled trouble for the future, but again he refused to balk. "Maybe he doesn't," he said, "but I like to think he'll put Michael's welfare above our differences."
"What about Will Clinger?" Leigh asked.
J.D. spoke at last. "I took care of the Clingers. They won't be spreading any more rumors."
Jon put his hands on his hips and muttered, "Shit."
"What does that mean?" Sam asked.
"It means that the rumors were true, and that half the school knows, and that it's disgusting."
Sam's nerves were beginning to fray. "Oh, come off it, Jon. It's only as disgusting as you make it. We all make mistakes. The key to character is whether we learn from them."
"So we're supposed to just forget it? Just go along like it never happened?"
"No. Even if Michael weren't lying in that bed, there's still the matter of Teke's relationship with J.D. and mine with Annie. There's also the matter of the way you guys see me, which I care about a lot, and the way I see myself. I'm not feeling real good about myself." Jon was untouched. Turning to Annie, he said, "I'm going home. I can't stand this."
"Jon, please," Annie begged.
"How can you?" he asked her.
Sam straightened. "That's enough, Jon."
But Jon wasn't done. "And you tell us not to fool around! You tell us to wait! You tell us not to give in to momentary urges! What a crock!" He grabbed Leigh's hand. "Let's go."
"Jon!" Annie cried. "Jon, wait!"
Jon was nearly at the door when Leigh tugged him to a stop. "What?"
"Take Zoe and Jana."
Jana protested instantly, "I want to stay with Michael." Zoe looked at Annie. "I want to stay with you." To Jana Annie said, "Michael should rest, and you should cool off." Taking Zoe's face in her hands, she whispered, "It'll be better if you go on home. I won't be long."
"Will you be okay?"
"Of course."
But Sam wondered. Annie looked shaky and pale. He had been worried about his standing with his children; it suddenly occurred to him that she was worried about hers. Her shoulders were slumped, her chin dragging. She struck him as a shadow that would disappear if the light grew much brighter.
But that was wrong! his mind screamed. She had nothing to be ashamed of. He was the one with the guilt, and the more he watched her, the more it grew.
Jon waited stiffly in the hall while Leigh, Jana, and Zoe kissed Michael good-bye. Zoe cast lingering looks at Annie, finally following the others only after Annie shooed her with a hand.
The silence they left behind was sudden and complete. There wasn't even the bleeping of machines
to break it; the machines had been turned off after Michael had woken.
Sam looked from face to face. There were just the four of them in the room. And Michael. He went to the bedside. Michael's eyes were shut, but not comatose slack. Nor was his face expressionless. He might be dozing on and off, but Sam suspected he was aware of what was going on.
"I've been trying to explain what happened," he said in a quiet voice,
"and none of the explanations seem to be going over real well. The bottom line is that I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He focused on Annie, whose eyes were downcast. "I have never regretted anything in my life the way I regret this. I would do anything to make amends, but I need direction."
"You've never needed direction before," J.D. said.
"That's not true. You've given me lots."
J.D. snorted. "Don't kid yourself. You've taken what you wanted and left the rest. You've had your own agenda all along." Sam drew back. "Why do you say that?"
"Because it makes sense. You saw a vehicle in me. I had ins that you didn't. You used my contacts for recommendations to law school--"
"You offered those."
"You used my brains to get you through law school--"
"On the dry courses that were boring as hell, but who coached you through trial practice?"
"It was my contact that got you into the DA's office and my pull that got you into Maxwell, Roper and Dine."
"You haven't lost money on me yet," Sam put in in self-defense.
"Ahhhh. Which brings us to Dunn v. Hanover. Was that what put you over the top? Big money fuels big egos. Did you think that bringing a fee like that into
the firm gave you rights to your partner's wife?"
"J.D.--" Teke tried.
He glared at her. "I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you. You're as bad as he is."
"But he didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to do it, and I'm just as sorry as he is." She looked at Annie, whose head remained bowed. "Just as sorry, for what it's worth."
Annie was huddled against the wall. Unable to bear seeing her that way, Sam went to her, but when he reached out, she took form and slid past him. "I'm leaving now," she said brokenly.
"Annie?" came a froggy sound from the bed.
She gasped and hurried there. "What is it, sweetheart?" Michael's eyes were more open than Sam had yet seen them, but his voice was rusty and thin. "I didn't mean to say it." She stroked his hair. "Oh, Mike, it's not your fault. You didn't say anything that didn't need to be said."
"Everyone is angry."
"Not at you. Never at you. All you have to think about is getting better."
He closed his eyes. She kissed his forehead. When she straightened she caught sight of an empty soda can on top of one of the monitors and reached for it. "They'll be moving you to another room soon. We'd better clean up."
Sam came alive then and took the can from her hand. "I'll do it."
"That's not necessary," she said without looking at him.
"It is," he insisted, and there was suddenly a deeper message he had to convey. "I made the mess, I'll clean it up." He looked from J.D. to Teke to Annie again and repeated with conviction, "I made the mess, I'll clean it up. I'll put things right. I swear it." Annie drove straight home. She went right to the attic, curled onto the window seat, and brooded.
"Are you okay, Mom?" Jon asked.
Startled, she gave a high-pitched, "Um-hmm."
He came into the room, went to the desk, and without turning said, "I'm sorry if I made a scene, but I'm not sorry for what I said." Not knowing how to answer, Annie was silent.
"I can't believe what he did."
"It wasn't only his fault. It takes two."
"But he should have been stronger. He should have been in control. It shouldn't have happened unless he'd wanted it to." He lowered his head. His voice came out muffled. "Do you think he did?" Annie had asked herself that so many times, the repetition was driving her mad. "I just don't know."
"And with Teke. I mean, that's the worst! She's been like a second mother to us. How could he do it with her?"
"He says it only happened once."
"Do you believe him?"
"It would hurt less if I did."
"But do you?"
"I don't know what to believe, Jon. I'm as stunned as you." He was silent for a time. Then he moved from the desk to the cork board that hung on the wall. On it, between favorite family snapshots, Annie had tacked scrawled germs of thoughts.
"When did you find out?" he asked.
She took a steadying breath. "The day after it happened."
"And you're still stunned?"
"Very."
Jon swore. "What a dick.r
"Please, Jon."
But it was as though the control he had been exerting for her sake simply snapped. "He is. And a phony." He made a disdainful sound.
"After all the times he stood there lecturing to us about doing the right thing. The crusading lawyer. The man with a heart to match his drive. Know the razzing I've taken on that? What & joker
"Please, Jon. He's not all bad."
Jon whirled around. His eyes were dark and as impassioned as Sam's could be when he was arguing a point. "How can you say that? He tells you he loves you, then he turns around and makes love to another woman. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd picked up a twenty-five-year-old looker--I mean, it would have been gross, but at least then we could've said he was going through a mid life crisis or something. But Teke?"
"You're making it worse, Jon," Annie warned. She didn't need reminders of her age or of the young and attractive women Sam saw every day of the week.
"Well, I'm angry, even if you're not!"
"I am angry, but when I tried calling your father names, it didn't help."
"So what will?"
"I don't know!"
"Mom?" Zoe asked, sounding frightened. "Why are you yelling?"
"I'm yelling because Jon's yelling," Annie cried. "What do you want me to do, Jon?"