Rogue (25 page)

“Hi,” she said brusquely. “What's up?”

“Sorry, Max. Bad time? I'll call you back if you want.” She glanced at her watch, and saw that it was already late for him. She wasn't sure if he was in London again, or still in Morocco, but either way it was late in the evening, and she could hear in his voice that he was tired.

“No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry. I have a few minutes before my next patient. Are you okay?”

“I am. But no one else is around here. I'm still in Imlil, about three hours outside Marrakech. Amazingly, they have a mobile phone mast, though not much else, so I could call you. I've gotten involved with these kids here, Max. What's happened to them is just awful. They're still pulling people out of the rubble, where they've been buried with all the dead members of their families for days. Others are just wandering around the streets looking dazed. They're dirt poor here in the villages, and something like this just wipes them out. They're assessing that more than twenty thousand people were killed.”

“I know,” Maxine said sadly. “I've seen the stories in the
Times
and on CNN.” It struck her that she couldn't reach him when her own son got hurt, but suddenly he was trying to heal the woes of the world. At least it was better than his flitting from party to party on his jet all over the world. Disaster scenes weren't unfamiliar to her because of her work. But it was the first time she had heard him so upset about something that didn't involve him directly. But he was seeing it firsthand. She had been in situations like that herself, in natural disasters where she'd been sent to consult, both in the States and abroad.

“I need your help,” he said. He was bone tired; he had hardly slept in ten days. “I'm trying to organize assistance for the children. I've met some very interesting and powerful people over here, since I bought the house. The government systems are so overwhelmed that the private sector is trying to see what they can do to bail them out. I've taken on a huge project for the kids, and I'm doing it myself. I need some advice about what kind of assistance they're going to need, both long term and now. It's right up your alley. I need your expertise, Max.” He sounded tired, worried, and sad.

She exhaled sharply as she listened. That was a tall order. “I'd love to help,” she ventured. She was impressed by the magnitude of what he was doing, but she had to be realistic about it too. “I'm not really sure I can advise you over the phone,” she said sadly. “I don't know the available government systems to access there, and you really have to see those things firsthand. It's not about theory in a disaster like that. You have to be there, like you are, to figure it out and do it right.”

“I know,” he said. “That's why I called. I didn't know what else to do.” He hesitated for a split second. “Will you come over, Max? These kids need you, and so do I.” She was stunned when she heard what he said. Although he had mentioned the idea in their earlier conversation, she had no idea he was so serious about this, or that he would actually ask her to come. Her schedule was jam-packed for the next month. She was going on vacation, as she always did, with the kids in July, and with the wedding coming up in August, her life was insane.

“Shit, Blake … I'd love to, but I don't see how I can. I've got a really full patient load right now, and some of them are very sick.”

“I want to send you my plane. Even if you only stay for twenty-four hours, it would be a huge help. I need your eyes here, instead of mine. I've got the money to make a difference, but I don't know my ass from a hole in the ground, and you're the only one I trust. Tell me what to do here. Otherwise, I'm just whistling in the dark.” He had made an amazing request, and she didn't see how she could do it. On the other hand, he had never asked her for anything like this before. And she could tell that his heart was fully in it. He was committed to do everything he could to help, both hands on, and with his funds. And it was the kind of work that she found most rewarding too. There was no question that it would be heartbreaking and backbreaking going into a disaster like that, but it was what she loved most, and an opportunity to make a real difference. She was proud of him for what he was doing, and listening to him talk about it brought tears to her eyes. She wanted to tell his children about it, so they could be proud of their dad.

“I wish I could,” she said slowly. “I just don't see when or how.” She would have loved to go to Morocco, to help and advise him. She admired his good intentions and hard work. She could tell that this was different for him and she wanted to help him. She just couldn't see how right now.

“What if you cancel your Friday? I have the plane there on Thursday, you could fly overnight. That would give you three days here over the weekend. You fly back Sunday night, and you're back in your office on Monday.” He had been trying to work it out for hours, and there was silence at her end.

“I'm off this weekend,” she said pensively, and Thelma was already covering for her. She could ask her for another day. But Maxine was well aware that going to Morocco for three days was a crazy thing to do, given all she had on her own plate.

“I just don't know who else to ask. These kids' lives will be ruined if someone doesn't do the right stuff for them now. A lot of them are going to be screwed anyway.” They had been injured and maimed and blinded, brain-damaged, and lost limbs when their homes and schools collapsed on them. An incredible number had been orphaned. He had seen a newborn baby being rescued, still alive, as they pulled it from the rubble, while Blake watched and cried.

“Give me a couple of hours to figure this out,” Maxine said quietly as her buzzer went off to tell her that her next patient had arrived. “I've got to think about it.” It was Tuesday. If she went, she had two days to get organized. But natural disasters never gave you notice, or time to plan. She had left before on a few hours' notice. And she wanted to help him out, or at least refer someone good to advise him. There was an excellent association of psychiatrists she knew in Paris who specialized in this kind of thing. But the thought of going to help excited her too. And she hadn't done anything like this in a while. “When can I call you?”

“Anytime. I haven't been to bed all week. Try my British cell phone, and my BlackBerry. They both work here now, some of the time at least … and Max … thanks …I love you, babe. Thanks for listening and giving a damn. Now I understand what you do. You're an incredible woman.” He had new respect for her after all he'd just seen firsthand. He felt as though he'd grown up overnight, and she could hear it. She knew that this was genuine, and a whole new side of Blake that was emerging at last.

“The same to you,” she said softly. There were tears in her eyes again. “I'll get back to you as soon as I can. I don't know if I can come, but if I can't, I'll find you someone first rate who will.”

“I want you,” he begged her. “Please, Max …”

“I'll try,” she promised, hung up the phone, and opened the door to her patient. She had to force her mind back to present time to listen closely to what the twelve-year-old girl was saying. She was a cutter, and had lines running up and down both arms. She had been referred to Maxine by her school, and was one of the victims of 9/11. Her father was one of the firefighters who had died, and she was part of an ongoing study Maxine had been doing for the city since it happened. The session was longer than usual, and afterward Maxine hurried home.

All her children were hanging out in the kitchen with Zelda when she got there, and she told them about their dad and what he was doing in Morocco. Their eyes shone as she told them, and she mentioned that he had asked her to join him. They were excited to hear about it and said that they hoped she would.

“I don't see how I can,” she said, looking stressed and distracted, and then walked out of the kitchen to call Thelma. She couldn't cover for Maxine on Friday since she was teaching a class at the NYU Medical School that day, but she said her partner could step in for Maxine on Friday instead, if she went. And Thelma was doing the weekend anyway.

Maxine made some other calls, checked her computer to see what appointments she had on Friday, and by eight o'clock she had made a decision. She hadn't even stopped for dinner. This was the least she could do, and Blake was making it easy for her by sending his plane. This was what life was about. She had always loved the line from the Talmud, and thought of it often, “To save one life is to save a world entire.” And she realized that perhaps Blake had finally figured that out too. It had taken him one hell of a long time. At forty-six, he was turning into a real human being.

She waited until midnight to call him. It was very early morning for him by then. She had to try several times on both his cell phones, and finally got through. He sounded even more exhausted than he had the day before. He told her he had been up all night, again. It was the nature of the beast in those situations, Maxine knew, and what everyone had to do. If she went, she would be doing that too, so as not to lose any more time than they already had. There was no time to waste or spend on food or sleep. Blake was living that now.

She cut to the chase. “I'll come.” He started crying when she said it. They were tears of relief, exhaustion, terror, and gratitude. He had never seen or experienced anything like this. “I can come Thursday night,” she continued.

“Thank God … Max, I can't thank you enough. You are one hell of a woman. I love you … thank you with all my heart.” She told him about the kind of reports she would need when she got there, and what she wanted to see. It was up to him to get her access to government officials, get her into hospitals, and help her meet with as many of the children as possible, wherever they were being gathered. She wanted to make the best possible use of every minute she was there, and Blake wanted that too. He promised to take care of everything at his end, and he thanked her another dozen times before they hung up.

“I'm proud of you, Mom,” Daphne said softly when her mother hung up. She had been standing in the doorway, listening to her end of the conversation, and there were tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Maxine stood up and came to hug her. “I'm proud of your dad too. He doesn't know anything about this stuff, and he's doing everything he can.” Daphne saw clearly in one of those rare special moments that her parents were both good people, and it had touched her heart, just as Blake's call had touched Maxine's. They talked about it for a while, as Maxine made hasty lists of what she'd need for the trip. And she emailed Thelma confirming that she was going and needed her partner to cover her practice for her on Friday.

Maxine realized that she had to call Charles too. They had been planning to spend the weekend in Southampton and meet with the caterers and the florist. He could do it without her, or they could postpone it for a week. It wouldn't make much difference, the wedding was still two months away. But it was too late to call him that night. She climbed into bed and lay there wide awake for hours, thinking of all she wanted to do when she got to Morocco. Suddenly, this was her project too, and she was grateful to Blake for sharing it with her. It felt as though her alarm went off five minutes after she fell asleep. And she called Charles right after breakfast. He hadn't left yet for his office, and she had to be in hers in twenty minutes. Since school was out, all the children were sleeping, and Zellie was puttering around the kitchen, getting ready for the onslaught that would come later.

“Hi, Max,” he said happily, pleased to hear her when he answered. “Everything okay?” He had learned that calls from her at unusual times didn't always mean good news. Sam's recent accident had taught him that. Life was different when you had kids. “Sam all right?”

“He's fine. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I have to go away this weekend.” She sounded rushed and a little more brusque than she meant to, but she didn't want to be late for her office, and she knew he didn't either. They were both punctual to a fault. “I have to cancel the meetings with the caterer and florist in Southampton, unless you want to go without me. Otherwise, I can do it next week. I'm going away.” She realized she sounded disjointed as she spoke.

“Something wrong?” She flew around to conferences all the time, but rarely on weekends, which, as much as possible, she considered sacred for her kids. “What's up?” He seemed confused.

“I'm going to Morocco to meet Blake,” she said bluntly.

“You're
what
? What does
that
mean?” He was stunned, and he didn't like the sound of it at all. Maxine was quick to explain.

“Not like that. He was there when they had the big earthquake. He's been trying to organize rescue missions, and resources for the kids. It sounds like a huge mess, and he has no idea what he's doing. This is his first foray into humanitarian work like that. He wants me to come over, look at some of the kids, meet with the various international and government agencies involved, and give him some advice.” She made it sound as though he had asked her to pick up a head of lettuce at the supermarket. Charles sounded shocked.

“You're doing that for
him
? Why?”

“Not for him. It's the first sign of being a human being and an adult he's shown in forty-six years. I'm proud of him. And the least I can do is give him some advice, and help them out.”

“That's ridiculous, Max,” Charles said, fuming. “They've got the Red Cross. They don't need you.”

“It's not the same thing,” she bristled. “I don't dig out survivors, drive an ambulance, or minister to the injured. I advise governments on how to deal with trauma in children. That's exactly what they need. I'm only going for three days. He's sending the plane for me.”

“Are you staying with him?” Charles asked, sounding suspicious. He acted as though she had said she was taking a cruise with Blake on his yacht. She had done that before too, with the children, but he was harmless. And they shared children, which justified almost anything to her. But in any case, this was different, whether Charles understood that or not. This was work, and that was it. Nothing else.