Journey

“Maybe, Greg,” she said, torn between defending Jack and sympathizing with her co-anchor. He hadn't painted a pretty picture for her, and she didn't disagree with him. She just didn't know what to do.

“I'm sorry, Mad,” he said quietly. She meant a lot to him, and for a long time, he had hated the things Jack did to her. And what broke his heart was that Maddy seemed not to notice. But Greg did. And Greg was sure that all of that was part of why they'd fired him. It was too dangerous to have him close to Maddy. “What he's doing to you is abusive.”

“It sounds like it,” she admitted sadly. “But I'm not sure. Maybe we're overreacting, Greg. He doesn't beat me.” She knew better than that, she just didn't want to see it, or hear it. But it was hard to avoid.

“Do you think he respects you?”

“I think he loves me” was her instant answer, particularly after their recent trip to Europe. “I think he wants what's best for me, even if he's not always right in the way he does it.” Greg disagreed with her, and all he wanted her to do was think, and take a closer look at the life she led with Jack.

“I think even abusive men love the women they abuse. Do you think Bobby Joe loved you?”

“No, I don't.” She couldn't believe Greg was comparing Jack to him. It was a terrifying thought, and she didn't want to hear it. It was one thing to think Jack was abusive, another to listen to Greg say as much to her. It made the terror of abuse far too real to her again.

“Well, maybe Bobby Joe didn't love you. But think about some of the things Jack does to you. He moves you around like a thing, an object he's bought and paid for. How loving is it for him to tell you that without him, you'd be nothing? And he wants you to believe that.” Worse yet, she did, and Greg knew that. “Maddy, he wants you to think he owns you.” As he said the words, she felt a chill run down her spine. Those had been Jack's words to her in Europe.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because he's not abusing me, and he doesn't own me. Maddy, I want you to do something for me.” She thought he was going to ask her to talk to Jack about getting his job back and she was willing to do it, although she didn't think Jack would listen to her.

“I'll do whatever you want,” she promised.

“I'm going to hold you to that. I want you to go to a group for abused women.”

“That's silly. I don't need one.” She was surprised by the suggestion.

“I want you to decide that after you've been there. I don't think you have any idea what's happening to you, or who's doing it to you. I want you to promise me you'll do it. I'll find one for you.” It was exactly what she had tried to do for Janet McCutchins, but she had been covered with bruises, and Maddy wasn't. “I think it'll open your eyes, Mad. I'll even go with you.”

“Okay … maybe … if you find one. What if someone recognizes me?”

“You can say you came to lend me support. Maddy, my sister went through this. She attempted suicide twice before she figured out what was happening to her. I went with her too. It was like a replay of Gaslight, and she had four kids with him.”

“What happened to her?”

“She divorced him, and she's married to someone terrific now, but it took three years of therapy to get her there. She thought that just because he didn't beat the shit out of her like my dad did to our mom, that he was a hero. Not all forms of abuse leave bruises.” She knew that, but part of her still wanted to believe that what Jack did was different. She didn't want to feel like a victim, or that Jack was an abuser.

“I think you're crazy, but I love you. What are you going to do now, Greg?” She was worried about him, and she was trying not to think about what he'd said about Jack. It was just too threatening to her. She had already started trying to convince herself that Jack wasn't really abusive. Greg was upset and confused, she told herself.

“I'll be doing sports on NBC. They made me a great offer and I start in two weeks. Do you know who they have for you yet?”

“Brad Newbury,” she said, sounding depressed about it. She was going to miss Greg more than she could tell him. And maybe it would be worth going to an abuse group with him, just so she could see him. She was sure that Jack wasn't going to let her socialize with him. He'd find a way to cut Greg out of her life completely “for her own good,” and make it impossible for her to see him. She knew that much about her husband.

“The guy from CNN?” Greg said in disbelief when she mentioned Brad's name. “You've got to be kidding. He's awful.”

“I think our ratings are going to go straight down the tubes without you.”

“No, they won't. They've got you. It'll be okay, kid. Just think about what I said. That's all I want you to do. Think about it.” Doing the news with Brad was the least of her problems.

“I will,” she said, but without much conviction. And for the rest of the morning, every time she thought about Greg she felt anxious. The things he had said to her had touched a nerve somewhere, and she was doing everything she could to deny them. When Jack said he “owned” her, all he meant was that he loved her with a passion. But now that she thought about it, even their lovemaking had an odd quality to it, especially lately. He had hurt her more than once, and in Paris pretty badly. It had taken a week for her nipple to heal, and when he made love to her on the marble floor at Claridge's, he had hurt her back and she could still feel it. But that hadn't been intentional, he was just insatiable and highly sexed, and he thought her desirable. And he didn't like making plans. How abusive was it to take her to Paris, to stay at the Ritz, even without much notice? And he had bought her a bracelet at Cartier and a ring at Graff's. Greg was crazy, and probably just upset that he'd been fired, which was understandable. And the craziest thing of all was comparing Jack to Bobby Joe. They had absolutely nothing in common, and Jack had saved her from him. But the one thing she couldn't figure out was why she felt sick every time she thought about the things Greg had said to her. He had made her incredibly nervous. But just thinking about abuse did that to her.

She was still haunted by Greg's words when she went to the First Lady's commission on Monday and sat next to Bill Alexander. He had a tan, and said he'd visited his son again in Vermont since they last met, and his daughter in Martha's Vineyard, over the weekend.

“How's the book coming?” she whispered, as the meeting began.

“Slowly, but well,” he smiled at her, admiring her, as everyone did. She was wearing a blue cotton man's shirt, and white linen slacks, and she looked summery and pretty.

The First Lady had invited a guest speaker to come and speak to them about abuse. Her name was Eugenia Flowers. She was a psychiatrist who specialized in victims of abuse, and a supporter of numerous women's causes. Maddy had heard of her, but never met her. Dr. Flowers went around the room, talking to each of them from where she sat. She was personable and warm and looked like a grandmother, but her eyes were sharp, and she seemed to know exactly what to say to everyone. She asked questions of each of them about what they thought abusive behavior was, and most of them said pretty much the same thing, that it meant hitting or beating or battering the victim.

“Well, that's true,” she agreed amiably, “those are the obvious ones.” And then she listed several others, some of them so perverted and obscure that it made each of them wince to think about them. “But what about other forms? What do you think those might be? Abusers wear many hats and many faces. What about controlling someone, their every act and every move, every thought? Destroying their confidence in themselves, isolating them, frightening them? Maybe just driving too fast in a dangerous situation until you terrify them? Or threatening them? Disrespecting them? Making someone believe that white is black and black is white, until you confuse them completely, or taking money from them, or telling them they'd be nothing without you, that you ‘own’ them? Taking their free will away from them, or forcing them to make reproductive choices they don't want, either having babies one after the other, or constant abortions, or maybe even not allowing them to have children at all? Do any of those sound like abuse to you? Well, they are, classic forms in fact, and they're just as painful, just as dangerous, just as lethal, as the kind that leave bruises.” Maddy felt as though she couldn't breathe as she listened. She went deathly pale, and Bill Alexander noticed, but said nothing to her.

“There are many kinds of violence against women,” the speaker went on, “some of them obvious, all of them dangerous, some of them more insidious than others. The most insidious are the subtle ones, because the victims not only believe them, but blame themselves for them. If the abuser is clever enough, he can use all of them, and convince his or her victim that it was all their fault. An abuse victim can be driven to suicide, drug abuse, crippling depression, or even murder. Abuse of any kind, at any time, is potentially fatal to the victim. But the subtler forms are the hardest to stop, because it's harder to see them. And worst of all, the victim is so convinced most of the time that it's her fault, that she goes back for more, and helps the abuser do it, because she feels she owes it to him, and she feels so guilty and so bad and so worthless that she knows he's right and she deserves it. She believes that she would be nothing without him.” Maddy felt faint as she listened, the woman was describing her marriage to Jack in every detail. He had never laid a hand on her, except the one time he had grabbed her arm, but he had done everything the woman had described, and Maddy wanted to run out of the room screaming. Instead she felt paralyzed in her chair.

The woman went on for half an hour, and then the First Lady opened up the meeting to questions. Most of them were about what could be done to protect these women not only from the abusers but from themselves, and how to stop it.

“Well, first, they have to recognize it. They have to be willing to. But like abused children, most of these women protect their abusers, by denying, and blaming themselves. It's too painful most of the time to admit what's happening to them, and to tell the world about it. What they feel is shame, because they believe everything they've been told by the abuser. So first, you have to help them to see it, then you have to help them remove themselves from the abusive situation, and that's not always easy. They have lives, they have kids, they have homes. You're asking them to pull up stakes and run away from a danger they can't see and aren't even sure is a real danger. The problem is that it's just as real and just as dangerous as a gun pointed at them, but most of them don't know it. Some do, but most of the time, they're just as scared as the others. And I'm talking about smart, educated, sometimes even professional women, who you may think should know better. But no one is exempt from being a victim of abuse. It can happen to anyone, and it does, in the best jobs, the best schools, with high incomes or low. Sometimes it happens to beautiful, smart women that you can't believe would fall for it. Sometimes they're the easiest targets. Women who are more streetwise are less apt to buy the bullshit. They're the ones who get the shit kicked out of them. The others are tortured more subtly. Abuse doesn't know color, it doesn't know race, it doesn't know neighborhoods, or socio-economic rules. It touches everyone. It can happen to any of us, particularly if we have a background that predisposes us to it.

“For instance, a woman who has seen domestic violence at home as a child, say with a physically abusive father, may think that a man who never beats her physically is a great guy, but he may be ten times more abusive than her father, much subtler and far more dangerous. He can control her, isolate her, threaten her, terrorize her, insult her, belittle her, demean her, disrespect her, withhold affection or money from her. Abandon her, or threaten to take away her children, but she won't have a mark on her, and he tells her she's one lucky woman and what is worse, she believes it. And you'll never be able to put him in jail, because when you nail the bastard for what he did to her, he'll tell you that she's crazy, stupid, dishonest, psychotic, and lying to you about him. And worse yet, she probably believes it. Those women have to be pulled slowly out of relationships, and gotten off the ledge to safety. But they'll fight you all the way defend him to the death, and their eyes open very slowly.” Maddy felt as though she were going to cry before the meeting ever ended, and it was all she could do to remain outwardly calm until it was time to leave, and her knees were shaking when she finally stood up. Bill Alexander looked down at her, and wondered if she was suffering from the heat. He had seen her go pale half an hour before, and she was nearly green by the time it was over.

“Would you like a glass of water?” he asked kindly. “It was an interesting meeting, wasn't it? Though I'm not sure what we're supposed to do to help women in that kind of situation, except maybe educate and support them.” Maddy sat down again then and nodded at him. The room was beginning to spin as she listened to him, and fortunately, no one else had noticed that she was feeling ill, as he went to get her a glass of water.

She was still sitting there, waiting for him, when the guest speaker came over to talk to her.

“I'm a great admirer of yours, Ms. Hunter,” she said smiling down at Maddy, who was unable to get up, and smiled wanly at her. “I watch your broadcast every night. It's the only way I know what's going on in the world. I particularly liked your editorial on Janet McCutchins.”

“Thank you,” Maddy said through dry lips, just as Bill appeared with a paper cup full of water, and he couldn't help wondering if she was pregnant. The speaker watched her take a sip, and her eyes seemed kind and warm as she watched Maddy intently. Maddy stood up when she finished it, and she didn't want to admit to anyone how wobbly her legs were. She was beginning to wonder how she was going to walk outside to get a taxi, and Bill seemed to sense her distress.

“Do you need a ride anywhere?” he asked chivalrously and without thinking, Maddy nodded.

“I have to go back to the office.” She wasn't even sure if she could go on the air, and for a moment she wondered if it was something she'd eaten. But she knew better than that now. It was someone she'd married.

“I'd like to get together with you sometime,” Dr. Flowers said, as Maddy said good-bye to her and the First Lady. She handed Maddy a card, and Maddy thanked her and left, but she tucked the card into her shirt pocket. Coupled with what Greg had said, she felt as though she'd had a double dose of it, and she wasn't sure if it was reality or a nightmare. But whatever it was, it had hit her like a freight train. And she looked it as she rode down in the elevator with Bill. He had parked his car outside, and she followed him to it in silence.

He opened the door for her, and she got in, and a moment later, he slid behind the wheel and looked at her with concern. She looked awful. “Are you all right? I thought you were going to faint in there.” She nodded, and said nothing for a moment. She was thinking about lying to him, and telling him she had the flu, but suddenly she just couldn't. She felt totally lost, and utterly alone, as though everything she had trusted and believed in and wanted to believe had been torn from her, and she felt like an orphan. She had never felt as terrified or as vulnerable as she did at that moment. Tears began to slide down her cheeks, as he gently reached out and touched her shoulder. And without meaning to, she began to sob, but there was nothing she could do to stop.

“It's very upsetting listening to these things,” he said gently, and then instinctively he put his arms around her and held her. He didn't know what else to do, but it was what people had done for him when he was distraught about his wife, and what he would have done for his children in the same situation. There was nothing sensual or inappropriate about what he did. He just held her while she cried, until her sobs finally abated, and she looked up at him. What he saw in her eyes was raw terror. “I'm here, Maddy. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. You're all right now.” But she shook her head then and began to cry again. Nothing was all right, it hadn't been in years, and maybe it never would be. She suddenly realized how endangered she had been, how demeaned, and how isolated from anyone who might have seen it, or could have helped her. Systematically, Jack had eliminated all her friends, even Greg, and she was his solitary, unprotected prey. Suddenly everything he had done and said to her over the years, and even recently, took on a new and intensely ominous meaning. “What can I do to help you?” Bill asked her, as she clung to him and cried, as she had never been able to, to any man in her life, starting with her father.

“My husband does every single thing that woman talked about today. Someone said exactly the same thing to me a few days ago and I never saw it. But when she started talking about it, I knew … he has completely isolated and abused me for the last seven years, and I thought he was a hero because he didn't beat me.” She sat back against the seat and stared at Bill in shock and disbelief, and he looked desperately worried about her.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.” He had even abused her sexually she realized now. He wasn't rough by accident, or because he was so passionate about her. It was yet another way of demeaning and controlling her. It was a seemingly acceptable way to hurt her, and he had done it for years. It was incredible to her now that she had never understood it. “I can't begin to tell you the things he's done to me. I don't think she left out a single one of them.” Her lip trembled as she looked at Bill. “What am I going to do now? He says I'd be nothing without him. He calls me poor white trash sometimes, and says I'll wind up back in a trailer park without him.” It was exactly what Eugenia Flowers had just described to them and Bill looked at her in complete amazement.

“Is he joking? You're the biggest name in news in the entire country. You could get a job anywhere. The only way you'll ever see a trailer park again is if you buy one.” She laughed at the remark, and sat staring out the window for a long moment. She felt as though her house had just burned down and she had no idea where to live. She couldn't even imagine going home to Jack, or facing him, now that she had a clearer picture of what he had done to her. But it was still hard for her to believe. She silently told herself that maybe he hadn't meant to, maybe she was wrong.

“I don't know what to do,” she said quietly. “Or what to say to him. I just want to ask him why he acts the way he does.”

“Maybe he doesn't know anything different,” Bill said fairly, “but that's no excuse for abusing you. What can I do to help?” He wanted to, but he was as much at a loss as she was.

“I have to think about what I'm going to do,” she said thoughtfully, as he turned the key in the ignition, and then turned to look at her again.

“Would you like to stop for a cup of coffee?” It was all he could think of to calm her.

“I'd like that.” He had been a real friend to her, and she was grateful for it. She could sense his warmth and sincerity, and she felt safe sitting next to him. She had felt peaceful and safe when he put his arms around her. She knew instinctively that this was a man who would never hurt her. And when she thought about Jack, she knew the difference. There was always an edge to him, an angle, he always said things that put her down, and made her feel as though she were less than he was, and he was doing her a huge favor. Bill Alexander acted as though he was grateful to have the opportunity to help her, and she sensed correctly that she could be honest with him.

They stopped at a small café, and she still looked pale when they sat down at a corner table. Bill ordered tea, and she ordered a cappuccino.

“I'm sorry,” she said apologetically, “I didn't mean to involve you in my personal dramas. I don't know what happened to me. What she said overwhelmed me.”

“Maybe it was just meant to be. Destiny that she would be there. Maddy, what are you going to do now? You can't go on living with a man who's abusive to you. You heard what she said, it's like having a gun to your head. You may not see it clearly yet, but you're in grave danger.”

“I think I'm beginning to understand that. But I can't just leave.”

“Why not?” To him, it seemed simple. She needed to get out, so Jack couldn't hurt her any further. That much was clear to him, if not to Maddy.

“I owe him everything I am, and have. He made me what I am. I work for him. Besides, where would I go? What would I do? If I leave him, I have to quit my job too. I wouldn't know where to go, or what to do. Besides,” she said, as tears filled her eyes again, “he loves me.”

“I'm not as certain of that as you are,” Bill said firmly. “It's not love to treat someone the way Dr. Flowers described to us. Do you really think he loves you?”

“I don't know,” she said, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions of terror and remorse. She felt guilty for what she was thinking and saying about him. What if she was wrong? If in Jack's case, it was different?

“I think you're afraid, and you're in denial again. What about you, Maddy, do you love him?”

“I thought I did. My last husband broke both my arms and my leg at various times. He tortured me, and pushed me down the stairs. He put a lit cigarette out on my back once.” She still had the scar although you could barely see it. “And Jack saved me from him. He drove me to Washington in a limousine and gave me a job, a life. He married me. How can I walk out on him?”

“Because he's not a good guy, from what you've said. It's just subtler and less obvious to you than what your first husband did, but you heard Dr. Flowers, it's just as lethal. And he wasn't doing you a favor when he married you. You're the best thing that ever happened to him, and a prize asset in his business. He's not a philanthropist, he's a businessman, and he knows exactly what he's doing.” You heard the doctor. He is controlling you.”

“And if I leave?”

“He might replace you on the show with someone else, and go on to torture someone else. You can't cure him, Maddy. You have to save yourself. If he wants to change himself, he can get treatment. But first, you have to get out, before he finds some other way to hurt you, or you get too demoralized to leave. You've seen it now. You know what's happening. You have to save yourself, and not think of anyone else. You're risking your life and your well-being. You may not have bruises this time. But if he's doing everything you say, you can't afford to waste a minute. Get away from him.”

“He'll kill me if I leave him.” The last time she had said that had been nine years before, but she suddenly knew that it was just as true this time. Jack had a lot invested in her, and he was not going to take kindly to her quitting or disappearing.

“You have to go somewhere safe. Do you have family?” She shook her head. Her parents had died years ago, and she had lost contact with her relatives in Chattanooga. She could stay with Greg, but it was probably the first place Jack would look, and then he'd blame Greg for her leaving, and she didn't want to endanger him. And she had no other real friends. Jack had seen to that. And it seemed ridiculous for someone as well known as she was to stay in a safe house. But maybe she'd have to do that. “What about staying with my daughter and her family at the Vineyard? She's about your age, and there's room for you there. And she has lovely children.” Just hearing that made her think about what Jack had done, and Bobby Joe before him. She had had six abortions while she was married to Bobby Joe, the first two because he said he wasn't ready to have kids, and the others because she didn't want his children, or to bring a child into the life she led with him. And Jack had insisted that she have her tubes tied when they got married. Between the two of them they had seen to it that she would never have children. They had both convinced her that it was the best thing for her, and she'd believed them. She not only felt devastated suddenly, but incredibly stupid for listening to them. They had both deprived her of the chance to have kids.

“I don't know what to think, Bill, or where to go. I need some time to think about this.”

“Maybe you can't afford it,” he said, thinking about everything Dr. Flowers had said. If she was right, Maddy needed to make a move very quickly. There was no point waiting any longer. “I don't think you should spend a lot of time making this decision. If he gets help, if things change, if you work it out, you can always go back later.”

“What if he won't let me?”

“Then it means he hasn't changed, and you don't want him.” It was exactly what he would have said to his daughter, and he wanted to do whatever he could to protect and help her, and she was grateful for it. “I want you to give this some thought, and take action quickly. He may also realize that things have changed, and you're more aware. If he senses that, he may feel endangered, and make things worse for you. That's not a good situation for you to be in.” None of it was, and she knew that, and as she glanced at her watch, she realized that she had to be in makeup in ten minutes, and she told Bill regretfully that she had to go back to work.

They walked outside a few minutes after that, and got back in his car and he drove her to the office. But before he left her there, he turned to her with a worried expression. “I'm going to be worried sick about you, until you do something about this. Promise me you're not going to try and ignore it. You've had your awakening, now you have to do something constructive about it.”

“I promise,” she said, smiling at him, but she had no idea what to do yet.

“I'll call you tomorrow,” he said firmly, “and I want to hear some progress. Or I'm going to kidnap you myself and take you to my daughter.”

“That sounds pretty good at the moment. How can I thank you?” she said, feeling grateful to him again. He had been like a father to her, and she felt as though they were friends. She trusted him totally, and never thought for a moment that he might divulge what she had confided to him. But he reassured her on that score himself before she left him.

“The only way you can thank me, Maddy, is to do something about it. I'm counting on you to do that. And I'm here if you need me.” He jotted his number down on a piece of paper for her, and she tucked it into her handbag, thanked him again, kissed him on the cheek, and ran hurriedly into the building. It was going to be her first day on the air with Brad Newbury, and she had to change, have her hair done, and get makeup. And as she disappeared, Bill sat watching her, awed by everything she had told him. It was hard to imagine that a woman like her could be cowed by anyone, or willing to believe that she would be friendless, jobless, and back in a trailer park if she ever left her husband. It was about as far from the truth as you could get, but only Maddy didn't know that. She proved everything Eugenia Flowers had said about psychological abuse, and it amazed him. And as he drove away Maddy was on her way to makeup.

She met Brad Newbury there, and stared at him as they combed his hair and did his makeup. He looked incredibly pompous to her, and she still couldn't believe that Jack had hired him to work with her. But he made an effort to be pleasant to her as they chatted and he watched her get her hair done. He had told her he was pleased to be working with her, but he acted as though he were doing her a favor. And she said politely that she was looking forward to it. But it only made her miss Greg more, and she found herself thinking about him, and then Bill Alexander when she went back to her office to put her dress on. She had no idea what she was going to do about Jack now. But she had no time to think about it. She was going on the air in less than three minutes. And she made it to her desk just in time. She just had time to catch her breath before they started the countdown.

As soon as they went on the air, she introduced Brad, and they were off and running. He had a dry, technical style, and as they worked together, she had to acknowledge that he was intelligent and knowledgeable, but his style was so different from hers that they seemed totally out of sync and in particular contrast to each other. She was warm and personable and down to earth, while he was aloof and distant. There was none of the harmony and ease she'd shared with Greg and she couldn't help wondering what the ratings were going to tell them.

They hung around and chatted for a while until they went on the air again, and it went a little smoother this time, but not enough to impress anyone. The broadcast felt flat to her, and the producer was frowning when she left the set. She'd gotten a message that Jack had late meetings that night, and he was leaving the car for her. But in the end, she decided to walk a few blocks, and then take a cab. It was a warm night and it was still light outside, but she had the funny feeling someone was watching her, and she decided she was paranoid. It had been such an upsetting day, her imagination was running wild. And maybe about Jack too. She was beginning to question the conclusion she'd come to, and she felt disloyal to him having said what she had to Bill. Maybe Jack wasn't any of the things she had accused him of, there were a myriad of explanations for his behavior.

But when she got out of the cab, she saw two policemen standing near her house, and an unmarked car across the street, and she wondered what had happened. On her way into the house, she stopped and asked them.

“Just keeping an eye on the neighborhood,” they smiled, and she went in. But two hours later, she saw that they were still there, and she mentioned it to Jack when he came in at midnight.

“I saw them too. Apparently one of the neighbors is having some kind of security problem. They said they'd be there for a while, and not to worry about it. Maybe the Supreme Court judge down the street is having a death threat. Anyway, it makes the neighborhood that much safer for the rest of us.” But then he scolded her for not taking the driver and using a cab. He told her he wanted her to use their car and driver whenever she went out.

“It's no big deal. I wanted to walk,” she said, but she suddenly felt awkward with him. If he was everything she thought, she didn't even know what to say to him. And she felt guilty again. He was so sweet about the car.

“How did it go tonight with Brad?” he asked when he came to bed. And suddenly she almost shuddered, wondering if he was going to make love to her. All she knew was that she didn't want to.

“Pretty flat, I thought,” she answered about her new co-anchor. “He's all right, but not very exciting to watch. I looked at the tape of the five o'clock, and there's no life in the show.”

“Then put some in it,” he said bluntly, putting the responsibility on her shoulders. And she found herself staring at him as though he were a complete stranger. She didn't even know what to say to him, or what was true now. Was he abusive to her, or did he just like to have control of things, and manage her life because he cared about her? What exactly had he done that was so bad? Give her a fabulous career, or a lovely house, or a car and driver to get to work, beautiful clothes, terrific jewelry, trips to Europe, and a jet plane she could use to shop in New York anytime she wanted? Was she crazy or why had she imagined that he was so abusive? She was just telling herself that she had imagined all of it, and it had been disloyal of her to even think about it, when he turned out the light and turned slowly to her with an odd expression. He was smiling at her, and he reached out a hand and gently touched her breast, and then before she could stop him, he had grabbed her so hard, it made her gasp, and she begged him to stop.

“Why?” he said, sounding cruel, and then he laughed at her. “Why, baby? Tell me why? Don't you love me?”

“I love you, but you're hurting me….” There were tears in her eyes as she said it, and he pulled away her nightgown and revealed the rest of her, and then he dove between her legs and made her moan with excitement. It was the same game he had played with her before, of alternating pain and pleasure. “I don't want to make love tonight,” she tried to say, but he didn't listen, he grabbed a handful of her hair and sharply pulled her head back, kissed her neck so sensually that her entire body tingled, and then entered her with such force that she thought he would rip right through her. He rode her so hard that it made her cry out, and as she clawed at him to make him stop, he turned gentle again, and she lay in his arms and cried in despair as he came and shuddered violently inside her.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered into her neck, as she wondered what that word meant to him, or how she would ever escape him. There was something violent and terrifying about their loving. It was a subtle way of terrifying her that she had known before and never recognized, but now that she knew what it was, what she sensed most in his love for her was danger. “I love you,” he said again, sounding sleepy this time.

“I love you too,” she whispered back, as tears slid from her eyes, and the worst part of it was that she did.

Chapter 9

THERE WERE TWO POLICEMEN STILL outside their house when Jack and Maddy left for work the next day, and security seemed tighter than usual when they got to the office. They were asking everyone for passes, and she had to go through the metal detector three times before they were satisfied that the alarm that went off was due to her bracelet and nothing else.

“What's going on?” she asked Jack.

“Just routine, I guess. Someone must have complained that we were getting sloppy.” She didn't think about it after that, and she went upstairs to meet with Brad. They had agreed to spend some time together and work on their presentation. Their styles were so different that Maddy had asked for some rehearsals so they could get more comfortable with each other. There was more to the news than just reading it off a TelePrompTer, contrary to what Jack said.

She called Greg after that, to tell him about meeting Dr. Flowers, but he was out. And she decided to go out and get a sandwich. It was a glorious afternoon and there was a breeze that softened the heat that was so typical of Washington summers. And again, when she went out, she had the feeling she was being followed. But when she turned around and looked, she saw nothing suspicious. All she saw were two men, strolling behind her, laughing and talking. And as soon as she got back to her office, Bill called her.

He wanted to know how she was, and if she had made any decisions.

“I don't know,” she confessed, “maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he's just difficult. I know this sounds crazy. But I love him and I know he loves me.”

“You're the best judge of that,” Bill said quietly, “but after listening to Dr. Flowers yesterday, I can't help wondering if you're back in denial. Maybe you should call her, and see what she thinks.”

“She gave me her card, and I was thinking about it.”

“Call her.”

“I will. I promise.” She thanked him again for the day before, and promised to call him the next day just to reassure him. He was a nice man, and she was grateful for his friendship and concern.

For the rest of the afternoon, she worked on her current stories in progress and the five o'clock went a little more smoothly with Brad, but not much. And she was irritated at how awkward he was. What he said was intelligent, but the way he delivered it made him sound like a novice. He had never before been a co-anchor, and in spite of his intelligence, he had absolutely no charm or charisma or style.

She was still annoyed about it when she left work. Jack was going to the White House for a meeting. He told her to take the car, and lock the doors when she got home, which seemed silly to her. She never left them open. And with policemen stationed near their house, they were safer than ever. It was such a nice night that she had the driver stop before their house, and she walked the last few blocks through Georgetown. It was dusk by then, and she felt happier and more relaxed than she had the day before. She was thinking about Jack when she got to the last corner, and from nowhere a hand reached out, and before she could move away, someone grabbed her, and pulled her into the bushes. She had never been held with such force, and she couldn't see his face, as he grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms back. She started to scream, but he put a hand over her mouth, and she fought like a tigress, and then kicked him hard in the shins with one foot, while trying to maintain her balance with the other. And she continued to struggle with him, feeling panic rise in her, and then as she wrestled with him, they both lost their balance and fell, and in an instant he was on top of her and grabbing at her skirt, trying to push it up with one hand, as he tried to yank her pants down with the other. But he needed both hands to accomplish what he wanted, which left her mouth free again and she screamed as loud as she could, and suddenly she heard running all around her, and just as he pulled her pants down and started to unzip his own, someone yanked him off her. He almost flew through the air with the force of it, and Maddy lay on the ground for an instant, gasping. And suddenly there were policemen everywhere and lights flashing, someone helped her to her feet, as she pulled her clothes up and she caught her breath. Her hair was disheveled and the back of her skirt was filthy, but she was unharmed, and shaking, as one of the policemen held her.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Hunter?”

“I'm fine, I think.” They were putting her assailant in the back of a van, and she was shaking all over as she watched them. “What happened?”

“We got him. I was sure we would. It was just a matter of time before he showed his hand. He's a sick bastard, but he'll go back to prison for this. We couldn't do anything until he grabbed you.”

“Have you been watching him?” She looked startled, she had assumed he was a random attacker.

“Ever since he started sending you letters.”

“Letters? What letters?”

“One a day for about the last week, I think. Your husband met with the lieutenant.” She nodded, not wanting to look as stupid as she felt, and wondering why Jack had said nothing about it to her. The least he could have done was warn her. And suddenly she remembered the things he'd said, about wanting her to take the car, and lock the doors when she got home. But he hadn't told her why, so she had felt perfectly safe walking the last few blocks home, right into the arms of a stalker.

She was still feeling shaken when Jack got home that night, and he already knew what had happened. The police had called him at the White House to tell him the stalker had been caught.

“Are you all right?” he asked, looking worried. He had even left the meeting a little early, at the President's urging. The President was concerned by the call from the police, and relieved that Maddy hadn't been seriously injured.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Maddy looked pale as she asked her husband.

“I didn't want to scare you,” he said simply.

“Don't you think I had a right to know? I walked home tonight, and that's how he got me.”

“I told you to take the car,” he said, looking both irritated and worried.

“I didn't know I was being stalked, for chrissake. Jack, I'm not a child. You should have told me.”

“I didn't see any point. The police were watching you, here, and they tightened security at work.” It explained the feeling she'd had for the past two days, of being followed. She had been.

“I don't want you making all my decisions for me.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You couldn't make them yourself, if I let you. You need to be protected.”

“I appreciate that,” she said, trying to sound grateful, but feeling stifled, “but I'm a grown woman, I have a right to make decisions and choices. I need friends. And even if you don't like the decisions I might make, I have a right to make them.”

“Not if they're the wrong ones. Why should you be burdened with that? I've been making all your decisions for the last nine years. What's changed?”

“Maybe I grew up. It doesn't mean I don't love you.”

“I love you too, which is why I protect you from being foolish.” He absolutely wouldn't concede that she had a right to at least some independence. She was trying to reason with him, to prove what she feared wasn't true, but he was unwilling to relinquish even one iota of control to her, even about her own life. “You're a pretty girl, Mad, but that's all you are, sweetheart. Let me do your thinking for you. All you have to do is read the news, and look pretty.”

“I'm not a moron, Jack.” She sounded angry as she said it, and she was still shaken by what had happened earlier that evening. “I can do more than just comb my hair and read the news. For chrissake, how dumb do you think I am?”

“That's a loaded question,” he smiled derisively at her as he said it, and for the first time in her life, she wanted to slap him.

“That's insulting!”

“It's the truth. As I recall, Mad, you never went to college. In fact, I'm not even sure if you finished high school.” It was the ultimate put-down, insinuating that she was too stupid and uneducated to think. He said it to humiliate her, but this time he only made her angry. He had said as much before to her, and she had never fought back when he said it.

“It didn't stop you from hiring me, did it? Or from getting you the best ratings in the business.”

“I told you. People respond to pretty faces. Now, shall we go to bed?”

“What does that mean? That you're horny, and feeling ‘passionate’ again? I've already been mauled once this evening.”

“Watch it, Maddy” He took a step closer to her, and she could see fury in his eyes. She was shaking, but she didn't step back from him. She was tired of being abused by him, under whatever title he gave it. But passion no longer convinced her. “You're out of line,” he hissed into her face.

“So are you when you hurt me.”

“I don't hurt you. You want it, and you love it.”

“I love you, but I don't like the way you treat me.”

“Who've you been talking to? That little black punk you used to work with? Did you know he used to be a bisexual, or does that come as a surprise to you?” He was trying to demean Greg and to shock her, but instead she was outraged.

“Yes, I did know, as a matter of fact. And it's none of my business, or yours either. Is that why you fired him? If it is, I hope he slaps you with a discrimination suit, because you deserve it.”

“I fired him because he was a rotten influence on you. There were rumors about you two. I spared you the embarrassment of discussing them with you, and kicked his ass out, where it belongs.”

“That's a disgusting thing to say. You know I've never cheated on you.”

“So you say. But just in case, I thought I'd remove the temptation.”

“Is that why you hired that pompous mummy who can't even read the news? He's using a TelePrompTer the size of a billboard. And he's going to flush your ratings right down the toilet.”

“If they go, baby, you go with them, so you'd better hope he puts some jazz into his delivery pretty quickly. You'd better carry him just like you did your little black boyfriend. Because if the ratings hit the skids, you might just be out of a job, and then you can come home and scrub floors, because there's nothing else you know how to do, is there?” He was saying disgusting things to her, and all his pretense of loving her was falling by the wayside. Just listening to him made her want to hit him.

“Why are you doing this, Jack?” There were tears in her eyes as she asked him, but he seemed not to care, as he walked up to her, grabbed a handful of hair, and yanked it, to get her attention.

“I'm doing it, you little crybaby, because you need to remember who's in charge here. You seem to have forgotten. I don't want to hear any of your threats anymore, or your demands. I'll tell you what I want to, when I want to, if I want to. And if I don't tell you a goddamn thing, it's none of your fucking business. All you have to do is your job, read the news, once in a while do a special report, and get into bed at night and not whine at me about how much I hurt you. You don't even know what it's like to be hurt, and you better pray you never find out. You're lucky I bother to fuck you at all.”

“You're disgusting,” she said, feeling sick as she listened. He had no respect for her whatsoever, and certainly no love for her. She wanted to tell him she was leaving, but she was afraid to. And the police were gone now that they had caught her stalker. She was afraid of Jack suddenly, and she knew he could see it.

“I'm tired of listening to you, Mad. Now get in bed, and stay there. And I'll let you know what I want to do about it.” She stood trembling in front of him for a long moment, and thought about refusing to get into bed with him, but she thought it would be worse if she did that. What had once been a somewhat roughshod style of making love to her had been becoming increasingly violent, ever since she had defied him over the story about Janet McCutchins. He was punishing her.

She went upstairs and got into bed without a word, and prayed that he wouldn't make love to her. And by some miracle, when he finally came to bed, he turned over without speaking to her, and didn't. Maddy was overwhelmed with relief.

Chapter 10

MADDY DIDN'T GO TO WORK with Jack the next day. He had to leave early, and she said she had some calls to make before she left for work, and he didn't ask any questions. No mention was made of the night before, he didn't apologize to her, and she didn't say anything about it. But as soon as he left, Maddy dialed Eugenia Flowers s office and made an appointment. The psychiatrist agreed to see her the next day, and she wondered how she would get through one more night with Jack. It was clear to her now that she had to do something before he really hurt her. It no longer seemed enough for him to demean her and call her poor white trash, he was beginning to openly abuse her, and she was starting to think that all he felt for her was hatred and contempt.

And as soon as she got to the station, Bill called her.

“How's it going?”

“Not so great,” she said honestly. “Things seem to be getting a little rougher.”

“They're going to get worse if you don't get out of there, Maddy. You heard what Dr. Flowers said.”

“I'm seeing her tomorrow.” And then she told him about the stalker. She knew the story was coming out in the paper that afternoon, and she had to identify the suspect in a lineup.

“Oh my God, Maddy, he could have killed you.”

“He tried to rape me. Apparently, Jack knew all about it, but he never told me. He doesn't think I'm bright enough to make decisions, since I never went to college.”

“You're one of the brightest women I know, Maddy, what are you doing?”

“I don't know. I'm scared,” she admitted to him. “I'm afraid of what will happen if I go.”

“I'm afraid of what will happen if you don't. He could kill you.”

“He won't do that. What if I never get another job? What if I wind up back in Knoxville?” She sounded panicked. It was all racing through her head.

“That's not going to happen. You'll get a better job. Knoxville is over for you, Maddy. You have to see that.”

“What if he's right? What if I'm too dumb to get hired by anyone else? He's right, I never did go to college.” He had made her feel like a fraud.

“So what, for Heaven's sake?” It frustrated him, listening to her. She made it impossible to help her. “You're beautiful and young and talented. You've got top ratings on the show. Maddy, even if he were right, and you had to scrub floors, which will never happen, you would still be better off out of there. He treats you like dirt, and he might hurt you.”

“He never has before,” but that wasn't entirely true either. He didn't hurt her as badly as Bobby Joe, but she had a scar where Jack had bitten her nipple in Paris. His form of violence was just subtler and more perverse than her previous husband's, but just as damaging to her psyche.

“I think Dr. Flowers is going to tell you the same thing I have.” They chatted for a few more minutes and he asked her to lunch, but she had to see the lineup at lunchtime.

And when Greg called her late that afternoon, he said the same things to her Bill had. “You're playing with fire, Mad. The son of a bitch is crazy in his own way, and one of these days he's going to get you. Don't wait for that to happen. Get your ass out of there pronto.” But for some reason she was paralyzed with doubt, and couldn't bring herself to do it. What if he got really angry at her? And what if he did love her? After all he'd done for her, she couldn't bring herself to desert him. It was a classic portrait of abuser and abused, as Dr. Flowers told her on the phone, but she also understood that Maddy was immobilized by fear. Dr. Flowers didn't push her the way Bill and Greg had. She knew that Maddy had to wait until she was ready. And Maddy felt relieved after she talked to her. She had been thinking of their conversation, and the meeting time they had set, when she went out to lunch. And Maddy was distracted on the way back from lunch. And as she walked into the building, she never saw the young woman watching her from across the street. She was pretty and young, wearing a black miniskirt and high heels, and she never took her eyes off Maddy.

She was there again the next day, when Maddy went out to lunch with Bill. She met him downstairs, and they went to 701 on Pennsylvania Avenue for lunch, and they made no secret of it. They had nothing to hide. They were serving on the First Lady's commission together, and Maddy knew that even Jack couldn't object.

They had a very nice lunch, and talked about a variety of subjects. And she told him about her conversation with Dr. Flowers, and how understanding she was.

“I hope she helps you,” Bill said, looking worried. From what he could see, she was in a very dangerous situation, and he was frightened for her.

“So do I. Something has changed between Jack and me,” she explained to Bill, as though she were trying to explain it to herself, and still couldn't. But there was a viciousness now to her exchanges with Jack that had never been there before. Dr. Flowers had told her that it was because he sensed that she was moving away from him, and he was going to do everything he could to terrorize her back into his control. The more independent, and the healthier she got, the less he would like it. Dr. Flowers had warned her to be careful. Even nonviolent abusers could change their tactics at any moment, and Maddy had felt that from Jack from time to time.

She and Bill talked about it for a long time, and he told her he was going to the Vineyard the following week, but he hated to leave her. “I'll give you my number there before I go. And if something happens, I can always come back.” It was as though he felt responsible for her now, particularly so since he now knew she had virtually no friends to support her, except for Greg, who had gone to New York for his new job.

“I'll be fine,” she said unconvincingly but she didn't want to be a burden on him with her problems.

“I wish I could believe that.” He was going to stay for two weeks, and he was hoping to finish his book while he was there. He was also looking forward to sailing with his children. He was an avid sailor. “I still wish you'd come up sometime. I think you'd enjoy it. The Vineyard is lovely.”

“I'd love it. We're supposed to go to our farm in Virginia for a few days, but Jack is so involved with the President these days, we never go anywhere, except for our trip to Europe.” As he listened to her, Bill marveled at how a man who owned a television network, and was close to the President, could be an abuser, and how a woman who was literally a star in her own right, successful, highly paid, beautiful, and intelligent, could let him. It was truly a scourge that had no respect for class or money or power or education, just as Dr. Flowers had said.

“I hope that by the time I get back, you've made a move and you are out of there. I'm going to worry about you until you do that,” he said, and then looked seriously at her. She was so lovely, and so decent, and had so much warmth and charm and integrity, he couldn't understand how anyone could do this to her. He enjoyed her company, and had come to count on talking to her every day. Their friendship was rapidly becoming a strong bond between them.

“If your daughter comes to see you in Washington, I'd love to meet her,” Maddy said warmly.

“I think you'd like her,” he said, smiling. It was odd for him to realize that Maddy and his daughter were the same age, but his feelings for Maddy were slowly evolving into something different. He saw her as more of a woman than a child, and in many ways, she was far more worldly and sophisticated than his daughter. Maddy had been exposed to many more things, and some of them not so pleasant. But she seemed more of a friend and companion to him than a contemporary of his daughter's.

It was three o'clock when they left the restaurant, and when Maddy went back to work, there was a pretty girl with long dark hair and a miniskirt standing in the lobby. She looked right at Maddy, and Maddy had the odd feeling that there was something familiar about her, but she couldn't place her. The girl looked straight at her, and then turned away, as though she wanted to see Maddy, but didn't want to be recognized by her. And then as soon as Maddy went upstairs, she asked the guard what floor Miss Hunter's office was on, but instead of telling her, he directed her to Jack's office. Those were the standard instructions. Any inquiries for Mrs. Hunter went directly to her husband, and were screened by him, although Maddy didn't know that. No one had ever told her. And it didn't shock anyone who asked for her. It was, after all, a reasonable screening process.

The girl in the miniskirt rode up in the elevator, and a secretary asked if she could help her.

“I'd like to see Mrs. Hunter,” she said clearly. She looked as though she was in her early twenties.

“Is this personal or business?” the woman asked, jotting down a note. The girl's name was Elizabeth Turner.

“Personal,” she said, hesitating for only an instant before she answered.

“Mrs. Hunter isn't seeing anyone today, she's very busy. Perhaps you'd like to explain the nature of your business to me, or leave a note, and I'll see that she gets it.” The girl nodded and looked faintly disappointed. But she took the piece of paper the secretary handed to her, and wrote a quick note, which she handed back to the woman at the desk a few minutes later. The secretary flipped it open, glanced at it, and then back at the girl, and stood up, looking somewhat nervous. “Will you wait a moment, please, Miss … er … Turner.” The girl only nodded as the secretary disappeared, and handed the note to Jack less than a minute later. He looked at it and at the secretary with a look of fury.

“Where is she? What the hell is she doing here?” “She's at the reception desk, Mr. Hunter.” “Bring her in here.” His mind was racing as he tried to decide what to do, and all he could hope was that Maddy hadn't seen her. But she wouldn't recognize her anyway, so maybe it made no difference.

The girl was ushered in a moment later, and Jack stood looking at her. The look in his eyes was cold and hard, but the smile he wore when he greeted her spoke volumes. Maddy knew absolutely nothing about the girl.

Chapter 11

MADDY SLIPPED AWAY QUIETLY when she went for her meeting with Dr. Flowers. The only one who knew she was seeing her was Bill Alexander. And the doctor looked as grandmotherly and calm when Maddy walked in as she had the first day they'd met at the White House.

“How are you, my dear?” she said warmly. Maddy had explained her situation with Jack quickly and succinctly when she'd called before, but she hadn't had time to go into all the details.

“I learned a lot from you the other day,” Maddy said as soon as she sat down in one of the doctor's comfortable leather chairs. She had a cozy office that looked like she had bought everything in it at a garage sale. Nothing matched, chairs were worn, and all of the paintings looked like they'd been done by her children. But it was tidy, and warm, and Maddy felt suprisingly at home. “I am the product of an abusive home, my father beat my mother every weekend when he got drunk. And I married a man, at seventeen, who did the same thing to me,” she said in answer to Dr. Flowers's questions about her past.

“I'm sorry to hear that, my dear.” Dr. Flowers looked compassionate and concerned, but the grandmotherly tone was in sharp contrast to her eyes, which seemed to understand and see everything. “I know how painful that can be, not just physically, but the kind of scars it can leave. How long were you married?”

“Nine years. I didn't leave until he had broken my leg and both arms, and I'd had six abortions.”

“I'm assuming you divorced him.” The all-knowing eyes looked hard at Maddy.

Maddy nodded, looking thoughtful. Just talking about it brought back agonizing memories. She could see Bobby Joe in her mind's eye, just as he had looked the day she left him. “I ran away. We lived in Knoxville. Jack Hunter rescued me. He bought the television station where I worked, and offered me a job here. He came to pick me up in Knoxville with a limo. And as soon as I got here, I divorced my husband. Jack and I got married two years later, a year after my divorce was final.”

Dr. Flowers was interested in more than words, and she heard a great deal more than people told her. She had had a practice of abused women for forty years, and she knew all the signs, sometimes before her patients even recognized them. There was a long silence as she watched Maddy's eyes.

“Tell me about your current husband,” Dr. Flowers said quietly.

“Jack and I have been married for seven years, and he's been good to me. Very good to me. He established my career, and we live lavishly. We have a house, a plane, I have a great job, thanks to him, a farm in Virginia, that's actually his….” Her voice trailed off as Dr. Flowers watched her. She already knew the answers to the unspoken questions.

“Do you have children?”

“He has two sons by a former marriage, and he didn't want any more when we got married. We talked about it pretty thoroughly, and he decided … we decided that I should have my tubes tied.”

“Are you pleased with that decision, or do you regret it?”

It was an honest question, and it deserved an honest answer. “Sometimes. When I see babies … I wish I had one.” Her eyes filled suddenly with tears as she said it. “But Jack was right, I guess. We really don't have time for children.”

“Time has nothing to do with it,” Dr. Flowers said quietly. “It's a matter of desire, and need. Do you feel as though you need a baby, Maddy?”

“Sometimes I do. But it's too late now. I had the tubes cut as well as tied, to be sure. They can't reverse it.” Maddy's voice sounded sad.

“You could adopt, if your husband is willing. Would he be?”

“I don't know,” Maddy said in a choked voice. Their problems were so much more complicated than that. She had only explained it briefly to Dr. Flowers on the phone.

“About adopting a baby?” Dr. Flowers looked surprised by what Maddy had just told her. She didn't expect that.

“No, about my husband. And what you said the other day. It came on the heels of a conversation I'd just had with a co-worker. I … he thought … I think …” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she finally said it. “My husband is abusive to me. He doesn't beat me like my first husband did. He has never laid a hand on me, not literally. He shook me recently and he's … sexually … pretty rough on me sometimes, but I don't think he does it on purpose, he's just very passionate….” And then she stopped, and looked Dr. Flowers in the eye. She had to tell her. “I used to think he was rough, but he isn't … he's cruel, and abusive, and he hurts me. Intentionally, I think. He controls me. Constantly. He makes all my decisions for me. He calls me poor white trash, reminds me that I'm uneducated, and tells me that if he fired me, I'd go right down the tubes and no one would ever hire me. He never lets me forget that he saved me. He doesn't let me have friends, he isolates me. He makes me feel like dirt. He lies to me, and belittles me, and makes me feel rotten about myself. He humiliates me, and lately he frightens me. He's getting rougher in bed, and he threatens me. I never let myself look at it before, but he does just about everything you talked about the other day.” The tears continued to roll down her cheeks as she said it.

“And you let him,” Eugenia Flowers said quietly. “Because you think he's right and you deserve it. You think the ugly secret you carry around with you is that you're every bit as bad as he says, and if you don't do exactly what he says, everyone will know it.” Maddy nodded as she listened. It was a relief to hear the words, because it was exactly what she did think. “And now that you're aware of it, Maddy, what are you going to do about it? Do you want to stay with him?” It was an honest question, and she wasn't afraid to tell the truth, no matter how crazy it sounded.

“Sometimes. I love him. And I think he loves me. I keep thinking that if he understood what he's doing to me, he wouldn't do it. Maybe if I loved him more, or could help him understand how hurtful it is, he would stop doing it. I don't think he really wants to hurt me.”

“That's possible. But unlikely,” she said, looking right at Maddy. But she wasn't passing judgment on her. She was opening doors and windows for her. What she wanted to give her more than anything was perspective. “What if he wanted to hurt you, if you knew it was intentional? Would you still want to stay with him?”

“I don't know … maybe. I'm scared to leave him. What if he's right? What if I can't find a job, and no one ever wants me?” Dr. Flowers silently marveled that this exquisite creature could think that no one would ever love or employ her. But no one ever had loved her, not her first husband or her parents, or even Jack Hunter. Of that, Dr. Flowers was certain. Not through any fault of Maddy's. But she had chosen men who had wanted nothing more than to hurt her.

But she had yet to see it, and Dr. Flowers knew that. “I thought it was all so simple. I thought when I left Bobby Joe that I'd never let myself be abused again. I swore that no one would ever hit me. And Jack doesn't. Not with his hands at least.”

“But it's not that simple, is it? There are other forms of abuse that are even more destructive, like the kind of abuse he practices on you, where he hits at your soul and your self-esteem. If you let him, Maddy, he'll destroy you. That's what he wants to do, what you've let him do for seven years. And you can continue letting him do that, if you want to. You don't have to leave him. No one is going to make you.”

“The only two friends I have are telling me that I have to go, or he will destroy me.”

“He might. He almost certainly will, one way or another. He doesn't even have to do it himself. Eventually, you'll do it for him.” It was a terrifying prospect. “Or you'll just wither away inside. What your friends are saying to you isn't inconceivable. Do you love him enough to risk that?”

“I don't think so … I don't want to … but I'm scared to leave him, and …” she gulped on a sob as she said it, “I'd miss him. We've had such a good life. I love being with him.”

“How does he make you feel when you're with him?”

“Important. Well … no … that's not true. He makes me feel stupid, and lucky to be with him.”

“Are you stupid?”

“No,” Maddy laughed, “only about the men I fall in love with.”

“Is there anyone else at the moment?”

“No, not really … well, not in a romantic sense. Bill Alexander is a good friend…. I told him all about it the day you came to the commission.”

“And what does he think?”

“That I should pack my bags as soon as I can and get out before Jack does something terrible to me.”

“He already has, Maddy. And what about Bill? Are you in love with him?”

“I don't think so. We're just good friends.”

“Does your husband know that?” Dr. Flowers looked concerned.

“No … he doesn't.” Maddy looked frightened as she answered. And the doctor looked at her for a long moment.

“You have a long road to go, Maddy, until you reach safety. And even when you get there, you'll want to go back sometimes. You'll miss him, and the way he makes you feel, not the bad times, but the good ones. Abusive men are very clever, there's a tremendous potency to that particular kind of poison. It makes women want more, because the good times are so sweet. But the bad times are pretty awful. It's a little bit like giving up drugs, or smoking, or any other kind of addiction. Abuse, as terrible as it is, is addictive.”

“I believe that. I'm so used to him, I can't imagine living without him. And then there are other times when I just want to run away and go somewhere where he can't touch me.”

“What you need to do, and I know it sounds hard, is get so strong that he can't touch you wherever you are, because you won't let him. It has to come from you, because no one else can really protect you. Friends can hide you from him, and keep him away, and if you want it badly enough, you'll sneak off and go back to him, for the drug he gives you. But it's a dangerous one, as dangerous, or perhaps even more, than any other. Do you think you're strong enough to give it up?”

Maddy nodded thoughtfully. This was what she wanted. She knew that. All she needed now was courage. “If you help me.” There were tears in Maddy s eyes.

“I'll do that. It may take us some time, be patient with yourself. And when you're ready, you'll leave him. You'll know when, when you've had enough and are strong enough to do it. And in the meantime, you have to do everything you can to keep yourself safe, and not risk letting him abuse you more than he has already. He'll sense this, you know. Abusers are like jungle animals, they have highly honed perceptions and defenses. What we have to do is sharpen yours now. But if he senses his prey getting away from him, he'll try to pen you in, by making you feel frightened, and crazy and hopeless. He'll convince you that there's no way out, that you'd be nothing without him. And a part of you will want to believe him. But the rest of you knows better. Cling to that as much as you can. That's what's going to save you, the part that doesn't want to be abused anymore, or taken advantage of, or damaged or belittled. Listen to that voice, and try not to listen to the other.” Not for an instant had she doubted that Jack was abusive. From everything she'd heard that day, she was certain of it, and she could see in Maddy's eyes how badly she'd been wounded by it. But she wasn't beyond repair, or salvation, she had a lot going for her, and Dr. Flowers knew she'd find the way out sooner or later, when she was ready, and not before. She had to find the way out herself, or it would have no meaning for her.

“How long do you think it'll take us to do this?” Maddy asked with a look of concern. Bill Alexander had wanted her to leave Jack the day she told him about it. But she couldn't do that yet.

“That's a hard thing to measure or predict. You'll know when you're ready, it could take days or months or years. It depends how frightened you are of him, and how much of you is willing to believe him. He's going to make you a lot of promises, and threaten you, he's going to try everything he can to keep you, like a drug dealer offering you your drug of choice. That drug at the moment, for you, is abusive behavior. And when you try to give it up, it's going to scare him, and make him more abusive.”

“That sounds awful,” Maddy said with a look of embarrassment about her addiction to abuse, but she knew there was some truth in it. It sounded right to her, and hit a familiar chord.

“Don't be ashamed of it. Many of us have been there. The brave ones admit it. It's difficult for other people to believe that you would love a man who would do that to you. But it goes back a long way, a long time, to what people told you about yourself in your childhood. If they told you you were worthless and wrong and terrible and unlovable, it's a powerful message for the dark side. What we have to do now is fill you with light, and convince you that you're a wonderful person. And I can tell you one thing, not only are you going to find another job in the first five minutes you're free, there are going to be men, good men with healthy attitudes, flocking at your feet as soon as they know the door is open. But it doesn't matter until you believe it.” Maddy laughed at the vision she conjured. It was certainly an appealing picture, and very comforting to hear. She felt better already. She felt utterly confident in Dr. Flowers s ability to get her out of the mess she was in. And she was grateful that she was willing to help her. Maddy knew just how busy the doctor was.

“I'd like you to come back and talk to me in a few days, about how you're feeling. About yourself, about him. And I'm going to give you a special number where you can call me, night and day. If anything happens that scares you, Maddy, or if you believe yourself in danger, or even if you're just upset, call me. I carry my cell phone everywhere, you can always reach me.” She was a one-woman wife-abuse hotline. And Maddy was relieved to know that, and grateful for her help.

“I want you to know, Maddy, that you're not alone. There are a lot of people out there who want to help you, and you can do this, if you want to.”

“I want to.” She said it in barely more than a whisper, and she said it with less certainty than her supporters might have liked. But as always with Maddy, it was honest. “That's why I came here. I just don't know how to do it. I don't know how to get free of him. Part of me believes I'll never make it without him.”

“That's what he wants you to believe. Then you'll need him, and he can do anything he wants to you. People in healthy relationships don't make decisions for each other, don't conceal information, don't tell each other they're worthless or that they're poor white trash and will wind up back in the gutter if the other one leaves. That's abuse, Maddy. He doesn't need to throw bleach in your face, or hit you with a hot iron to prove that. He doesn't have to. He does enough damage with his mouth and his mind, he doesn't need to use his hands to hurt you. What he does is very effective.” Maddy nodded in silence.

Half an hour later she left and went back to her office. And as she walked into the building, she didn't see the girl with the long black hair standing near the entrance again, watching her. And she was still there at eight o'clock that night, across the street this time, when Maddy got into the car to go home. She seemed to be waiting for something. But Maddy never saw her. And when Jack came out a little while later and hailed a cab, the girl scurried away, concealing her face from him so he wouldn't see her. They had already said everything they had to say, and she knew she'd get nowhere with him.

Chapter 12

THE NEXT DAY, WHILE MADDY WAS working on some research on a story about the Senate Ethics Committee with Brad, the phone rang, and someone listened for a long time and said nothing when Maddy answered. For a moment, she was frightened. She wondered if it was another stalker, or a crank call of some kind, but then they hung up, and when she went back to work again, Maddy forgot about it.

The same thing happened that night at home, and this time she told Jack, and he shrugged it off, and told her it was probably just a wrong number. He teased her about being afraid of her own shadow, just because one nutcase had stalked her. Given her high visibility on the air, it wasn't surprising that she'd had a stalker as far as he was concerned. Most celebrities had them. “It goes with the territory, Mad,” he said calmly. “You read the news. You should know that.” Things had calmed down again between them, but she was still annoyed that he hadn't warned her about the stalker. He said that she had better things to think about, and security issues involving talent on the air were his problem. But she continued to believe he should have told her.

She was talking to the First Lady's private secretary on the phone Monday about changing the date of the next commission meeting. The First Lady had to join the President for a state dinner at Buckingham Palace. And she was trying to mesh schedules with Maddy and the other eleven people on the commission, and Maddy was frowning distractedly as she went over dates, when a young woman walked into her office. She had long straight black hair, and she was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt. She looked neat and clean, but inexpensively dressed, and very nervous, as Maddy glanced up and wondered what she wanted and who she was. She had never seen her before, and thought she'd been sent by another department at the network, or maybe she just wanted an autograph. Maddy noticed that she didn't have a badge, and was carrying a bag of doughnuts. And suddenly, she wondered if that was how the girl had gotten into the building.

“No thanks.” Maddy smiled at her and waved her out, but the girl didn't move, she just stared at her, and for an instant, Maddy panicked. What if this was yet another stalker? Maybe she had a gun, or a knife, or was mentally ill. She realized now that anything was possible, and she thought about hitting the panic button under her desk, but didn't. “What is it?” She put her hand over the phone and asked her.

“I need to talk to you,” the girl said, and Maddy eyed her with suspicion. There was something about her that made Maddy extremely nervous.

“Would you mind waiting outside?” Maddy asked firmly, and the girl reluctantly left her office, carrying the bag of doughnuts.

Maddy gave Phyllis Armstrongs secretary three possible dates and the secretary promised to get back to her, and as soon as she'd hung up, Maddy picked up her intercom and spoke to a receptionist at a desk in the hallway.

“There's someone waiting for me outside. I don't know what she wants. Would you talk to her and find out, and then call me?” Maybe she was a celebrity hound or an autograph seeker, or wanted a job. But Maddy was annoyed that she had walked in on her with such ease. Given what had happened recently, it was unnerving.

The intercom rang a few minutes later, and Maddy picked it up quickly. “She says she needs to speak to you. It's a personal matter.”

“Like what? She wants to kill me? She has to tell you what it is, or I'm not seeing her.” But as she said the words, she looked up, and the girl was standing in her office doorway with a look of determination. “Look, this isn't how we do things here. I don't know what you want, but you have to talk to someone before you can talk to me.” She said it firmly and calmly, with her fingers resting lightly on the panic button, and her heart pounding. “What do you want from me?”

“I just want to talk to you for a few minutes,” she said, and Maddy realized the girl was about to cry, and the doughnuts had vanished.

“I don't know if I can help you,” Maddy said hesitantly, and then suddenly wondered if this had to do with her being on the commission about violence against women, or one of her stories. Maybe this girl knew she'd be sympathetic. “What's this about?” Maddy asked, mellowing a little.

“It's about you,” she said in a trembling voice, and when Maddy looked at her more closely she saw that the girl's hands were shaking.

“What about me?” Maddy asked cautiously. What had this girl come to tell her? But as she looked at her, she had a very odd feeling.

“I think you're my mother,” she said in a whisper, so no one else could hear them if they were walking by, and Maddy looked as though she'd slapped her as she recoiled in her chair.

“Your what? What are you talking about?” Maddy s face had gone white, and now her hands were shaking, as they continued to rest on the panic button. She had an instant concern that this girl was some kind of nutcase. “I don't have any children.”

“Did you ever?” The girl's lips were trembling and her eyes were already beginning to fill with disappointment. For her, this had been a three-year search for her mother, and she sensed that she was about to hit a dead end again. She had already had several. “Did you ever have a baby? My name is Elizabeth Turner, I'm nineteen years old, my birthday is May fifteenth, and I was born in Gatlinburg, Tennessee, in the Smoky Mountains. I think my mother was from Chattanooga. I've talked to everyone I can, and all I know is that she was fifteen when I was born. I think her name was Madeleine Beaumont, but I'm not sure of that. And one person I talked to said I look a lot like her.” Maddy was staring at her in disbelief, as her hand moved slowly off the panic button and onto her desk.

“What makes you think I'm that person?” Her tone gave away nothing.

“I don't know, I know you're from Tennessee. I read that in an interview one time, and your name is Maddy and … I don't know … I sort of think I look like you a little bit, and … I know this sounds crazy.” There were tears running down her cheeks now from the sheer stress of approaching her, and the fear of yet another disappointment. “Maybe I just wanted you to be the right person. I've watched you a lot on TV, and I really like you.” There was a long, deafening silence in the room, while Maddy weighed the situation, and tried to figure out what to do about it. Her eyes never left the girl's, and as she looked at her, she slowly felt walls dissolving within her, surrounding places she hadn't touched in years, and thought she would never allow herself to feel again. She didn't want this to be happening, but it was, and there was nothing she could do now to change it. She could end it easily. She could tell her that she wasn't the same Madeleine Beaumont, that Tennessee was full of them, even though Beaumont was her maiden name. She could say she had never been to Gatlinburg, and that she was sorry, and wish her luck. She could say everything she needed to, to get rid of her, and never see her again, but as she looked at her, she knew she couldn't do that to this girl.

Without a word, she got up and closed the door to her office, and then stood looking at the girl, who claimed to be the baby she had given up at fifteen, and thought she'd never see again. The baby she had cried for and mourned for years, and whom she no longer allowed herself to think of. The child she had never told Jack about. All he knew about were the abortions.

“How do I know that's who you are?” Maddy asked in a voice that was rough with grief and fear and the remembered pain of giving up her baby. She had never seen her after the delivery, and only held her once. But this girl could have been anyone, the child of a nurse who'd been there, a neighbor's child who wanted to blackmail her and make some money. There were damn few people who knew, and Maddy had been grateful that none of them had ever surfaced. She had worried about it for years.

“I have my birth certificate,” the girl said awkwardly, pulling a folded piece of paper from her purse. It was dog-eared and folded into a tiny wad, as she handed it to Maddy. And she handed her a tiny baby picture with it, as Maddy stared at it in silent agony. It was the same one they had given her, taken at the hospital, red-faced and brand new, wrapped in a pink blanket. Maddy had kept it in her wallet for years, and finally threw it away, for fear that Jack would find it. Bobby Joe knew, but he had never cared much about it. Lots of girls they knew got pregnant and gave up babies for adoption. Some girls had them a lot younger than she had. But in the years since, it had become her darkest secret.

“This could be any baby,” Maddy said coldly, “or you could have gotten this picture from someone else, from the hospital even. It doesn't prove anything.”

“We could have blood tests, if you thought maybe I could be your daughter,” the girl said sensibly, and Maddy's heart went out to her. She had done a brave thing, and Maddy wasn't making it easy for her. But what this girl was volunteering to do was destroy her life, and make her face something that she had finally put away, and didn't dare touch now. And how could she tell Jack?

“Why don't you sit down for a minute,” Maddy said, sitting down slowly in the chair next to her, and staring at her. She wanted to reach out and touch her. The girl's father had been a high school senior in Maddy's school, they didn't even know each other well, but she liked him, and she went out with him a couple of times, during one of the spells when she and Bobby Joe broke up. He was killed in a car accident three weeks after the baby was born and she'd already given her up. She never told Bobby Joe who the father was, and he didn't care much, although he'd beaten her up over it once or twice, but it was just another excuse to abuse her, once they were married. “How did you come here, Elizabeth?” She said her name carefully, as though even saying that much would commit her to a fate she was not yet prepared to face. “Where do you live?”

“In Memphis. I came here by bus. I've been working since I was twelve to save up enough money to do this. I always wanted to find my real mother. I tried to find my father too, but I couldn't find out anything about him.” She still didn't know what Maddy's answer to her was, and she looked extremely nervous.

“Your father died,” Maddy said quietly, “three weeks after you were born. He was a nice boy, and you look a little like him.” But she looked a great deal more like her mother, their coloring and features were the same, even Maddy could see it. It would have been hard to deny her, even if she wanted to. And Maddy couldn't help wondering how the story was going to look in the tabloids.

“How do you know about him?” Elizabeth looked confused as she stared at her, not sure what it meant now. She was a bright girl, but she was overwhelmed by the impact of what she was doing, as was Maddy, and neither of them was thinking clearly.

Maddy looked at her for a long time, her most secret wish having just come true, and not sure yet if that wish would become a nightmare, if she would be betrayed, or if this girl would turn out to be an impostor, but it seemed unlikely. Maddy opened her mouth to speak, and a sob came before the words, as she reached out and put her arms around the girl in the chair next to hers. It was a long time before she could say the words she had thought would never be hers, in an entire lifetime. “I'm your mother.” Elizabeth gave a sharp gasp, and her hand flew to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears and she looked up at Maddy, and then pulled her closer. And they just sat there for a long time, holding each other and crying.

“Oh my God … oh my God … I didn't really think it was you … I just wanted to ask you … oh my God….” They sat there for a long time, rocking back and forth and holding each other, and then they held hands, and just looked at each other. Elizabeth was smiling through her tears, and Maddy was still too shaken to know what she thought. The only thing she knew was that beyond the miracle of time and circumstance, they had found each other. And Maddy had no idea what to do about it. This was just the beginning after so many years.

“Where are your adoptive parents?” Maddy asked finally All she had been allowed to know was that they lived in Tennessee, had no other children, and were gainfully employed. She knew nothing else about them. In those days, all the records were sealed, and the information given to either side was so minimal you could never find each other. It was done for that purpose. And over the years, as things changed legally, regarding old sealed adoptions, Maddy had never wanted to make any effort to find her. She figured it was too late, and it was something she had to let go of, rather than cling to. But now here she was.

“I never knew them,” Elizabeth explained, still wiping the tears from her eyes, as she clung to her mother's hand. “They died when I was a year old, in a train wreck, and I was state-raised till I was five, in an orphanage in Knoxville.” It turned Maddy's stomach to realize that she was living in Knoxville at the same time and was married to Bobby Joe, and could have taken her back if she had to. But she had no way of knowing where the child was. “I grew up in foster homes after that. Some of them were okay, some of them were pretty awful. I moved around the state a lot, I never stayed in any of them more than six months, I didn't really want to. I always felt like an outsider, and some of them were mean to me, so I was happy to move on to the next one.”

“And no one ever adopted you again?” Maddy looked horrified as Elizabeth shook her head.

“I guess that's why I wanted to find you. I almost got adopted once or twice, but my foster parents always decided it was too expensive. They had kids of their own, and they couldn't afford another one. I stay in touch with some of them, particularly the last ones. They have five kids, and they were nice to me. They were all boys, and I almost married my oldest brother, but I figured it'd be too weird, so I didn't. I'm living on my own in Memphis now, I'm going to City College and working as a waitress. When I finish school, I'm going to move to Nashville, and try to get a job singing in a nightclub.” She had the same spirit of survival as her mother.

“Can you sing?” Maddy asked with surprise, suddenly wanting to know everything about her. Her heart ached as she thought of her in orphanages and foster homes, and never having real parents. But remarkably she seemed to have survived it, from what Maddy could see superficially at least. She was a lovely-looking girl, and as she glanced at her, she realized that they had both crossed their legs at the same time, in exactly the same way.

“I like to sing. I guess I have a pretty good voice. That's what people tell me.”

“Then you can't be my daughter,” Maddy laughed, with tears in her eyes again. She was overwhelmed with emotion as they continued to hold hands, sitting in Maddy's office. And miraculously, for once, no one had interrupted them. It was a rare, quiet morning. “What else do you like to do?”

“I like horses. I can ride anything on four legs. But I hate cows. One of the families that fostered me had a dairy farm. I swore I'd never marry a farmer.” They both laughed at that. “I like kids. I write to all my foster brothers and sisters, except for a few of them. Most of them were good people. I like Washington.” She smiled at Maddy then. “I like you on TV … I like clothes … I like boys … I like the beach….”

“I love you,” Maddy blurted out, although she didn't even know her. “I loved you then too. I just couldn't take care of you, I was fifteen and my parents wouldn't let me keep you. I cried over it for years. I always wondered where you were and if you were okay, and if people were being good to you. I told myself you'd been adopted by wonderful people who loved you.” It broke her heart to think that that hadn't been true, and the child had grown up between foster homes and state institutions.

“Do you have kids?” Elizabeth wanted to know. It was a reasonable question. And Maddy shook her head with a look of sorrow. But she did now. She had a daughter. And this time, she wasn't going to lose her. She had already made that decision.

“No, I don't. I never had children, and I can't now.” Elizabeth didn't ask her why, she was respectful of the fact that they didn't know each other. And given the patchwork quilt that her past had been, Maddy was impressed by how polite she was, and well behaved, and how educated she sounded. “Do you like to read?” Maddy asked, curious about her.

“I love it,” Elizabeth confirmed, another trait she had inherited from her mother, along with her perseverance and courage and dogged pursuit of her objectives. She had never given up on finding her mother. It was all she'd ever wanted.

“How old are you now?” Elizabeth asked her, just to be sure she'd originally guessed Maddy's age right. Elizabeth wasn't sure if Maddy had been fifteen or sixteen when she gave up her baby.

“I'm thirty-four.” They were more like sisters, and looked it, than mother and daughter. “And I'm married to the man who owns this network. His name is Jack Hunter.” It was pretty basic information, but after she said it, Elizabeth stunned her.

“I know. I met him last week, in his office.”

“You what? How did you do that?” It seemed impossible to Maddy.

“I tried to ask for you in the lobby, and they wouldn't let me see you. They sent me right up to his office. I talked to his secretary, and I'd written you a note, it just said that I wanted to ask you if you were my mother. She took it to him, and then she brought me in to see him,” she said innocently, as though it were a perfectly logical sequence of events, and it was in some ways. Except that Jack hadn't said a word about it to Maddy

“And then what happened?” Maddy asked, with her heart pounding again, just as it had when Elizabeth said Maddy was her mother. “What did he say to you?”

“He told me that he knew for a fact that I was wrong, that you'd never had any children. I think he thought I was a fake, or trying to blackmail you or something. He told me to go away and never come back again. I showed him my birth certificate and the picture, and I was afraid he would take them away from me, but he didn't. He just told me that wasn't your maiden name, but I knew it was, so I thought he might be lying to protect you. And then I wondered if maybe he didn't know, and you never told him.”

“I never did,” Maddy said honestly. “I was afraid to. He's been very good to me. He got me out of Knoxville nine years ago, and paid for my divorce. He made me who I am today, and I didn't know how he'd feel if I told him, so I didn't.” But he knew now, and he hadn't said a word to her. She wondered if it was because he thought it was a hoax and didn't want to worry her, or if he was saving it for ammunition. Given what she'd come to believe of him recently, she thought the latter more likely, and couldn't help wondering when he was going to tell her. He was probably saving it for just the right moment, when it would do the most damage. And then she felt instantly guilty for what she was thinking. “Well, he knows now,” Maddy said with a sigh, looking at the girl. And then she looked at the girl squarely. “What are we going to do now, about all this?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Elizabeth said practically. “I don't want anything from you. I just wanted to find you, and meet you. I'm going back to Memphis tomorrow. They gave me a week off from work, but I have to go back now.”

“That's it?” Maddy looked surprised that she wanted so little from her. “I'd like to see you again, Elizabeth, and get to know you. Maybe I could come to Memphis.”

“I'd like that. You could stay with me, but I don't think you'd like it.” She smiled shyly. “I rent a room in a boarding house, and it's pretty small and smelly. I spend all my money on school … and on finding you. I guess I won't have to do that now.”

“Maybe we could stay in a hotel together.” The girl's eyes lit up at that, and Maddy was touched. She seemed to have no expectations whatsoever.

“I'm not going to tell anyone about this,” Elizabeth said shyly, “just my landlady and my boss, and one of my foster moms, if that's okay with you. But I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. I don't want to cause you any trouble.” She herself was unaware of the implications of a public exposé for Maddy.

“That's nice of you to say, Elizabeth, but I don't know what I'm going to do about it myself. I have to think about that and talk it over with my husband.”

“I don't think he's going to like it.” Maddy didn't think so either. “He didn't look real happy to see me. I guess it was kind of a big surprise.”

“Yes, I would say that,” Maddy smiled at her. It was certainly a shock, even to her, but she was pleased now. It was suddenly exciting having a daughter. It was the end to a mystery for her, a healing of an old wound she had resigned herself to for years, but it had always been there. And now this was a blessing like no other. “He'll get used to it. We all will.” Maddy invited her to lunch then, and Elizabeth looked thrilled and told her mother to call her “Lizzie.” They went to a coffee shop around the corner, and Maddy cautiously put an arm around her shoulders as they walked along, and over a club sandwich and a hamburger, Lizzie told her everything she could think of about her life, her friends, her fears, her joys, and then she asked Maddy a million questions. This was the meeting she had always dreamed of, and the one Maddy had never dared to.

It was three o'clock when they got back, and Maddy had given her all her phone numbers and fax numbers, and gotten hers, and she promised to call her often to see how she was doing. And as soon as she got things squared away with Jack, she wanted to have her to Virginia for the weekend. And when she told her she'd send the plane for her, Lizzie's eyes grew big as saucers.

“You guys have your own plane?”

“Jack does.”

“Wow! My mom is a TV star, and my dad has a jet plane! Holy Moses!”

“He's not exactly your father,” Maddy corrected gently, nor would he want to be, Maddy easily suspected. He didn't enjoy interacting with his own sons, let alone take on Maddy's illegitimate daughter. “But he's a nice man,” and as she said it, she knew she was lying to her. But it was too complicated to explain how unhappy she was, and that she was in therapy to try to get up the courage to leave him. She just hoped that Elizabeth had never been abused, as she had been. But there had been no tales of that over lunch, and in spite of never having had a real home, she seemed remarkably well adjusted. And as much as it depressed her to think so, Maddy wondered if Lizzie had done better in the end where she was, than if she'd been watching Bobby Joe shove her mother down the stairs, or listening to Jack abuse her. But she couldn't let herself off the hook as easily as that, and she felt guilty for what she had never done for her daughter. Just thinking the word now gave her a tremor. A daughter. She had a daughter.

Maddy kissed Elizabeth good-bye when she left, and they hugged for a long moment, and then she looked down at the girl's face with a smile and spoke softly to her. “Thank you for finding me, Lizzie. I don't deserve you yet, but I'm so happy to know you.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Lizzie whispered and they both wiped away tears as Maddy watched her go. It was a moment in her life that she knew neither of them would ever forget, and for the rest of the day she was in a daze, and she was still distracted when Bill Alexander called her.

“What's new with you today?” he asked comfortably, and Maddy laughed at the question.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

“That sounds pretty mysterious. Anything important happen?” He wondered if she was going to tell him she had left her husband, but he had begun to realize she wasn't there yet.

“I'll tell you when I see you again. It's kind of a long story.”

“I can't wait to hear it. How's it going with your co-anchor?”

“Slowly. He's a nice guy, but it's like dancing with a rhinoceros for the moment. We're not exactly graceful together.” She was waiting for their ratings to take a dive, they had already gotten hundreds of letters, complaining about the disappearance of Greg Morris. And she wondered what Jack would do when he saw them.

“You'll adjust to each other eventually it's probably a little bit like marriage.”

“Maybe.” She sounded unconvinced. Brad Newbury was smart, but they were not an exciting duo, and it was inevitable that their viewers would notice.

“How about lunch tomorrow?” he asked casually. He was still concerned about her, and wanted to be sure that she was all right, after everything she had told him. Besides, he liked her.

“I'd love it,” Maddy answered without hesitating.

“You can tell me your long story then. I can hardly wait to hear it.” They agreed on a place, and Maddy was smiling to herself when she hung up, and a little while later she went in to hair and makeup.

The broadcasts went well, and she met Jack in the lobby afterward. He was talking on his cell phone, and the conversation continued into the car and halfway home, and when he finally hung up, she didn't say anything to him.

“You're looking serious tonight,” he said, looking unconcerned. He had absolutely no idea that she had met Lizzie, and she didn't say a word to him about it, until they were in their house, and he was rummaging for something to eat in the kitchen. They had agreed not to go out to dinner, and neither of them was very hungry. “Anything special happen today?” he asked casually. With Maddy, silence was often an indicator of something important she wasn't saying. She looked at him, and nodded. She had been groping for the right words for a while, and then finally decided to come right out and say it.

“Why didn't you tell me that you'd had a visit from my daughter?” Her eyes never left his as she asked the question, and she saw something cold and hard come into his, a burning ember that was rapidly being kindled by anger.

“Why didn't you tell me you had a daughter?” he asked just as bluntly. “I wonder how many other secrets you've kept from me, Mad. That's a pretty big one.” He sat down at the kitchen counter with a bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass, but he didn't offer one to Maddy

“I should have told you about it, but I didn't want anyone to know. It happened ten years before I met you, and I just wanted to put it behind me.” As always, she was honest with him. Her only sin with him so far was one of omission, not commission.

“Funny how things bounce back at you sometimes, isn't it? Here you thought you had gotten rid of her, and she pops right back up like a bad penny.” It hurt her to hear him say that, and she resented it. Lizzie was a great girl, and Maddy already felt protective of her.

“You don't need to call her that, Jack. She's a good kid. It's not her fault I had her when I was fifteen and gave her up. She seems like a decent person.”

“How the hell do you know?” he said, spitting fire at her, and she could already feel the blaze as he watched her. “She could be talking to the Enquirer tonight. You may be seeing her face on TV tomorrow, talking about her famous mom who abandoned her. Lots of people do that. You don't even know if she's for real, for God's sake. She could be a fraud. She could be a lot of things, and she probably is, just like her mother.” It was the ultimate put-down, that she was “as bad as her mother.”

Maddy caught the implication clearly, and thought instantly of Dr. Flowers. This was the kind of abuse they had talked about, subterranean, vicious, demeaning.

“She looks just like me, Jack. It would be hard to deny her,” Maddy said calmly, not addressing any of the slurs he'd made on her, but trying to address facts and nothing further.

“Every hick in Tennessee looks like you, for chris-sake. You think black hair and blue eyes is so unusual? They all look like you, Maddy. You're not special.” Maddy ignored yet another ugly comment.

“What I want to know from you is why you didn't tell me that you saw her. What were you saving it for?” The moment when it would hurt her most, she guessed, when it would knock the wind right out of her, and shock her.

“I was trying to protect you from what I assumed was a blackmailer. I was going to check her out before I told you.” It sounded reasonable, and chivalrous, but she knew him better.

“That was nice of you. I appreciate it. But I would have liked to know about it, as soon as you saw her.”

“I'll remember that the next time one of your bastard kids shows up. By the way, how many of them are there?” She didn't dignify what he said with an answer.

“It was nice seeing her,” Maddy said quietly, “she's a sweet girl.” She looked sad and wistful as she said it.

“What did she want from you? Money?”

“She just wanted to meet me. She's spent three years looking for me. I've spent a lifetime thinking about her.”

“How touching. She'll come back to haunt you again, I can promise you that. And it's not going to be a pretty story,” he said cynically, pouring himself another glass of wine, and staring at her in fury.

“It could be. It's very human. These things happen to people.”

“Not nice people, Mad,” he said, relishing the words, and the wounds he was inflicting on her. “That doesn't happen to nice women. They don't go around having babies at fifteen, and then dropping them on the church steps like so much garbage.” It cut her to the quick as she listened.

“That's not how it happened. I don't suppose you'd care to hear the whole story?” She owed him that much at least, he was her husband, and she felt guilty for never having told him.

“No, I wouldn't,” he cut her off, “I just want to know what we're going to do about it when the story breaks and you look like a slut on national TV. I have a show to worry about, and a network.”

“I think people will understand it.” She was trying to maintain her dignity, outwardly at least, but inside, he had hit his mark. She felt an ache in her soul at the portrait he was painting of her. “She's not an ax murderer, for chrissake, and neither am I.”

“No, just a whore. Poor white trash. I wasn't far off the mark, was I?”

“How can you say things like that to me?” she asked, facing him, with a look of pain in her eyes, but it didn't touch him. He wanted to hurt her. “Don't you know how much that hurts me?”

“It should hurt. You can't be proud of yourself, and if you are, you're crazy. And maybe you're that too, Mad. You lied to me, you abandoned her. Did Bobby Joe know about it?”

“Yes, he did,” she said fairly, but at that time, it had been much more recent.

“Maybe that's why he kicked the shit out of you. That explains it. You left that part out when you whined about him. I'm not so sure now that I blame him.”

“That's bullshit!” Maddy blazed back at him. “I don't care what I did. I didn't deserve the way he treated me, and I don't deserve it now. What you're doing isn't fair, and you know it.”

“Lying to me about her wasn't either. How do you think I feel? You're a whore, Mad, a cheap slut. You must have been out fucking around when you were twelve, for chrissake. It makes me wonder who you are now. I feel like I don't even know you.”

“That's not fair,” and he had completely dodged the issue of not having told her. “I was fifteen, and I was wrong, but it was a terrible thing to have happen to me. Nothing in my life has ever been so sad or so painful. Even being kicked around by Bobby Joe wasn't as bad. When I left her, it ripped my heart out.”

“Tell her that, don't tell me. Maybe you can write her a check for it. But don't try using any of my money. I'll be watching.”

“I've never used your money for anything,” she shouted at him, “I use my own, for everything I do,” she said proudly.

“Like hell you do. Who do you think pays your salary? That's my money too,” he said smugly.

“I earn it.”

“The hell you do. You're the most overpaid anchor in the business.”

“No,” Maddy shot at him, “Brad is, and he's going to fuck your show right out the window. I can hardly wait to see it happen.”

“And when it does, sister, you'll go with it. In fact, the way you've been behaving these days, and treating me, I'd say your days are numbered. I'm not going to put up with your bullshit for a lot longer. Why the fuck should I? I can throw your ass out of here anytime I want to. I'm not going to sit here forever while you lie to me, steal from me, victimize me. My God, woman, I can't believe the abuse I take from you.” Just listening to him stunned her. He was the abuser and he was pretending to be the victim. But Dr. Flowers had warned her of that technique and it was very effective. In spite of what she knew and felt, he actually made her feel guilty and defensive. “And just to make things clear, don't try bringing your little brat around here. She's probably a whore, just like her mother.”

“She's my daughter!” Maddy shouted at him in total frustration. “I have a right to see her if I want to, and I live here.”

“Only for as long as I say you do, and don't you forget that.” And with that, he got up and walked out of the room, and Maddy stood there gasping. She waited until she could hear him moving around upstairs, and then quietly closed the kitchen door and called Dr. Flowers. She told her everything that had happened, about Lizzie finding her, and Jack not telling her she'd been looking for her, and his utter fury at having been lied to.

“And how do you feel, Maddy? Right now. Honestly. Think about it.”

“I feel guilty. I should have told him. And I never should have left her.”

“Do you believe all the things he says you are?”

“Some of them.”

“Why? If he came to you with your story could you forgive him?”

“Yes,” she said instantly, “I think I'd understand it.”

“Then what does it say about him that he can't do that for you?”

“That he's a shit,” Maddy said, looking around her kitchen, and listening to Dr. Flowers.

“That's one way to put it. But you're not. That's the point here. You're a good person who had a very sad thing happen to her, that's one of the worst things that can happen to a woman, having to give up a baby. Can you forgive yourself for it?”

“Maybe. In time.”

“And what about the things Jack is saying to you? Do you think you deserve them?”

“No.”

“Think what that says about him. Listen to what he's saying about you, Maddy. None of it's true, but all of it is aimed to hurt you, and it does, and I don't blame you for it.” She heard footsteps in the hall then, and told Dr. Flowers she had to go, but at least the doctor had given her some perspective. And an instant later, the door flew open and Jack strode into the room with a look of suspicion.

“Who were you talking to? Your boyfriend?”

“I don't have a boyfriend, Jack, and you know it,” she said meekly.

“Who was it then?”

“A friend.”

“You don't have friends. No one likes you. Was it that little black faggot you love so much?” Maddy winced at what Jack was saying, but she didn't answer. “You'd damn well better not tell anyone about this. I don't want you wrecking my show. You say a word about this to anyone, and I'll kill you. Do you understand me?”

“I understand you,” she said with her eyes filled with tears. He had said so many hurtful things in the past hour, she didn't know which had hurt most. They all did.

She waited for him to leave the room, and then dialed the hotel where Lizzie was staying. She knew she'd be there till the morning.

They rang her room, and a second later, Lizzie answered. She'd been lying on her bed, thinking about Maddy. She'd watched her on the news that night and couldn't stop smiling.

“Maddy … I mean Mom … I mean …”

“Mom is fine.” Maddy smiled at the now familiar voice, and realized that Lizzie sounded just like her. “I just called to tell you I love you.”

“I love you too, Mom. God, that sounds good, doesn't it?”

There were tears running down Maddy s cheeks as she answered. “It sure does, sweetheart. I'll call you in Memphis. Have a safe trip back.” She didn't want anything to happen to her now that they had found each other, and when she put the phone down again, she was smiling. No matter what Jack said to her, or did to her because of it, he couldn't take that away from her now. After all these years, and so many losses, she was a mother.

Chapter 13

BILL AND MADDY MET AT the Bombay Club for lunch, and she was wearing a white linen Chanel pantsuit when she walked in, with her sunglasses on her head and a straw handbag over her shoulder. She looked like an ad for the joys of summer, and he looked happy to see her. He looked handsome and tan, and his white hair was in sharp contrast to his blue eyes and suntanned face, as he stood up and watched Maddy walk toward him. She looked a lot happier than she had the last time he saw her and he was pleased to see it.

He ordered white wine for both of them, and they chatted for a few minutes before looking at the menu. Several well-known politicians were there, and a Supreme Court judge Bill knew from their days at Harvard.

“You seem pretty chipper today,” he smiled at her, “are things a little quieter on the home front?”

“I wouldn't say that, but Dr. Flowers has been a big help, and something wonderful happened to me.”

Every time he met her, for one reason or another, he was afraid she was going to tell him she was pregnant. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, but now that he knew more about Jack, he particularly didn't want her to get trapped in that marriage. And a baby would certainly do that.

“You said something about it yesterday. Am I allowed to ask, or is it top secret?”

She laughed at the way he said it. “I think your security clearance is adequate for this, Ambassador. Besides, I trust you, but yes, it is a secret.”

“You're not having a baby, Maddy, are you?” He said it in an undervoice, looking worried, and she smiled like the Mona Lisa, as he felt a tremor of worry run through him.

“It's funny you should say that.” Her answer instantly convinced him. “What made you ask that?”

“I don't know. Just a feeling. The last time I saw you at the commission you nearly fainted. And it was just something you said yesterday that concerned me. I'm not sure that would be good news for you at this point. It would certainly lock you into your marriage with an abusive husband. Is that it then?” He looked disappointed but resigned as he asked her, and was surprised when she shook her head.

“No, I'm not pregnant. As a matter of fact, I'm unable to have children.” It was funny talking about things like that with him, but she felt incredibly comfortable with him. As she had with Greg when they met, but for different reasons, she felt completely at ease with Bill. And now that he knew about her situation with Jack, she trusted him implicitly with her secrets, and she knew instinctively that he wouldn't betray her.

“I'm sorry to hear that, Maddy,” he said at her admission to him, “I know that must be a great sorrow to you.”

“It is, or it was at least. But I don't have a right to complain. It happened by choice. I had my tubes tied, at Jack's request, when we got married. He didn't want more children.” Bill wanted to say that it was selfish of him, but he refrained from comment. “But something amazing happened yesterday,” she beamed at him over her glass of wine and it was hard for him to ignore how beautiful she was. She was like a ray of sunshine to him. For months he had been depressed over his wife's death, and he was still struggling with it. But every time he saw Maddy, he felt happy, and he cherished their friendship. He was flattered by the trust she put in him, and her openness in talking about things he suspected she talked to no one else about. And he wasn't mistaken.

“I can't stand the suspense,” he said as he waited. “What happened?”

“Well, I don't know if I should start at the beginning or the end.” She seemed to hesitate, and he laughed in anticipation. He could tell that it was something that had pleased her greatly.

“Start at the middle if you want, but just tell me!”

“All right, all right … maybe at the beginning. I'll try to do this quickly. When I was fifteen, I was already involved with Bobby Joe, whom I eventually married after graduation. He dumped me a couple of times, and one night I went to a party with another boy,” she hesitated then and frowned. Jack was right. Any way she told it, she sounded like a whore, and it was easy to figure out what Bill would think of her. She didn't want to make excuses to him, but as she looked at him, she was worried.

“What is it?”

“You're not going to think much of me when I tell you.” And it mattered to her. More than she had realized when she began her story, and she wondered if she should never have started.

“Let me be the judge of that. I think our friendship will survive it,” he said calmly.

“Your respect for me may not.” But she was willing to take the chance. She thought a lot of him and was willing to expose herself to him, in order to share this with him. “Anyway, I went out with someone else. And I shouldn't have, but I slept with him. He was very smooth, and handsome, and a nice kid. I wasn't in love with him, but I was lonely and confused, and flattered by his attention.”

“You don't have to defend it, Maddy,” he said softly, “it's okay. People do that. I'm a big boy, I can take it.” She smiled gratefully at him. It was a far cry from being called a slut and a whore, and poor white trash, by her husband.

“Thank you. That was confession number one. Confession number two is that I got pregnant. I was fifteen, and my father almost killed me for it. I didn't even figure it out till I was four months pregnant. I was young and pretty stupid, and it was too late to do anything about it. I was poor. I probably would have had to have it anyway, even if I'd figured it out sooner.”

“You had the baby?” He sounded startled, but not judgmental. There was a distinct difference, and she was acutely aware of it as she nodded.

“I had the baby. Although until yesterday, almost nobody knew that. I went to another town for five months, and I went to school there, and I had it. A little girl,” in spite of herself, tears filled her eyes as she said it. “I only saw her once, and they gave me a picture of her when I left the hospital. That's all I ever had of her, and eventually I even threw that away because I was afraid Jack would find it. I never told him. I put her up for adoption, and I went home, as though nothing had happened. Bobby Joe knew, but he didn't care, and we started going out again.”

“Was the baby's father involved at all?”

“No, I told him I was pregnant, but he didn't want any part of it. His parents owned a hardware store, and they thought we were trash, and I guess we were. They convinced him it was probably someone else's. I don't think he believed them, but he was too scared to go against them, and I hardly knew him. I called him when the baby was born, and he never returned my call. And three weeks later, he was killed in a head-on collision. I don't think he ever knew about the baby. I never knew who adopted her,” she went on a little breathlessly. Telling him was harder and more emotional than she had expected, and he took her hand in his own under the table, to give her courage. He still had no idea what was coming. He just thought it was something she felt she had to tell him. “In those days, adoption records were sealed, and there would have been no hope of finding out, so I never tried. I married Bobby Joe after I graduated, and eight years later, I left. We got divorced, and I married Jack. And I know it was wrong of me, but I never told him. I just couldn't. I was afraid he wouldn't love me if I told him,” she choked on her tears again, and the waiter waiting to take their order kept a discreet distance. “I never told him,” she repeated. “It was a piece of my past I never touched myself. I just couldn't bear to think about it.” There were tears in Bill's eyes as he listened. “And yesterday” she said, smiling through her tears, as they ran down her cheeks and she squeezed his hand, “she walked into my office.”

“Who?” He was afraid to say, although he could almost guess, but it seemed too extraordinary to be possible. Things like that only happened in books and movies.

“My daughter. Her name is Lizzie,” Maddy said proudly. “It took her three years to find me. The people who adopted her died within a year, and she wound up in a state orphanage in Knoxville, where I was living, and I never knew it. I thought she was happy then. I wish I'd known,” she said wistfully, but at least they had found each other now. That was all that mattered at this point. “She's been in foster homes for all these years, and she's nineteen years old now. She lives in Memphis. She goes to school and she works as a waitress, and she's just beautiful. Wait till you meet her!” Maddy said proudly. “We spent five hours together yesterday, and she went back to Memphis today, but I'm going to bring her back soon. I didn't say anything to her, but I'd like her to live here, if she wants to. I called her last night,” Maddy said, holding tightly to his hand, as her voice cracked completely, “she called me … Mom….” He squeezed her hand harder as she said it. It was an amazing story, and touched his heart.

“How on earth did she find you?” He was in awe of Maddy s honesty, and the outcome of the story. It was the proverbial happy ending.

“I'm not sure. She just kept looking. I think she went back to Gatlinburg, the town where she was born, to see if anyone remembered anything. She had my age on her birth certificate, and she went to the local schools, until she found a teacher who remembered. They told her my name was Madeleine Beaumont, and I guess they remembered. The amazing thing is that no one made the connection between that person and Maddy Hunter. But it's been nearly twenty years, and I guess there's not much similarity between the two. But she figured it out from watching me on the news. I've never talked publicly about my past much. There's not a lot to be proud of.” In fact, with Jack's help, she was profoundly ashamed of it.

“Yes, there is a lot to be proud of,” Bill said quietly, and signaled to the waiter to leave them alone for a few more minutes.

“Thank you, Bill. Anyway, I guess she followed me back to Chattanooga, and somehow she figured out what nobody else has. She says she watches me on the news, and she read somewhere that my maiden name was Beaumont. She's a voracious reader,” Maddy said proudly and Bill smiled as he listened. She was suddenly a mother. Nineteen years late, but better late than never. And her daughter had appeared at just the right moment. “She came to the network, and tried to see me,” and at that piece of the story, Maddy s face clouded, “and they sent her to see Jack instead. He has some crazy system that directs people to him, if they ask for me. He claims it's a screening process for my own protection, but I realize now that it has to do with controlling me and the people I do and don't see. He lied to her,” she said in disbelief, “he told her my maiden name wasn't Beaumont, and that I wasn't from Chattanooga. And I don't know if she didn't believe him, or she's just as stubborn as I am, but she got into the building somehow yesterday, pretending she was delivering doughnuts, and she walked into my office. At first, I thought she was going to attack me. She had this odd look on her face and she was very nervous. And then she told me. And that's it. And now I have a daughter.” She beamed at him. It was too good to believe, too wonderful to resist, as she smiled at him, and he wiped tears away from his own eyes.

“That's quite a story,” and then he wondered something. “What did Jack say to all this? I assume you told him.”

“I did, and when I asked him why he didn't tell me, he said he thought she was a hoax and figured she was trying to blackmail me. But he had a lot more to say about my concealing it from him. He's livid about it, and I guess he's right. It was wrong of me, and I know that. I was scared, if that's an excuse. And maybe I was right too, because now he's calling me a slut and a whore, and threatening to fire me. He wants no part of it. But I'm not going to let her go now that I've found her.”

“Of course not. What's she like? As beautiful as her mother?”

“A lot more so. Bill, she's gorgeous, and so sweet and loving. She's never had a real home, or a mother. There's so much I want to do for her.” Bill only hoped that she was as decent a person as Maddy thought. But whether she was or not, he understood that Maddy wanted her in her life now. “Jack says he won't let her in the house. And he's worried about the scandal, and the impact on my image if it gets out.”

“Are you?”

“Not at all,” she said honestly. “I made a mistake. It happens to people. I think people would understand that.”

“From an image standpoint, I think it's more positive than negative, if you care. But I think there are far more important issues here. It's a very touching story,” he said quietly.

“It's the happiest thing that has ever happened to me. I don't deserve to be this lucky.”

“Oh yes, you do,” he said emphatically. “Did you tell Dr. Flowers about it?”

“Last night. She was very excited for me.”

“I'm not surprised to hear that, Maddy. So am I. It's a beautiful gift, and you deserve it. It would have been a tragedy for you to be childless all your life, and the girl deserves a mother.”

“She's as happy as I am.”

“I'm not surprised by Jack's reaction, by the way. He's a real son of a bitch to you at every opportunity. The things he said to you are unforgivable, Maddy. He's just trying to bully you and make you feel guilty.” It was his stock in trade, and they both knew that.

They ordered lunch then, and settled in to talk some more. The afternoon flew by, and it was two-thirty before they knew it.

“What are you going to do about all this?” he asked with a lot of concern. She had some decisions to make, only some of which involved her newfound daughter. She still had an abusive husband to contend with, and he wasn't about to disappear by magic.

“I don't know yet. I think I'll go down to Memphis in a few weeks, to see her. I'd like her to transfer to school here.”

“I might be able to help you with that. Let me know when you're ready.”

“Thank you, Bill. I still have to deal with Jack. He's terrified of a scandal in the tabloids.”

“So what? Do you really care about that?” Bill asked reasonably and she shook her head as she thought about it.

“I guess I only care about Jack's reaction to it. He'll torture me over it.” They both knew that was true, and Bill was worried about the effect on Maddy

“I wish I weren't leaving for the Vineyard tomorrow,” he said, looking worried. “I could stay here, if you want me to, but I'm not sure what I could do to make him behave. I still think the only solution is for you to leave him.”

“I know. But Dr. Flowers and I agree that I'm not ready. I owe him so much, Bill.”

“Does Dr. Flowers agree with that too?” He looked disapproving and Maddy smiled sheepishly.

“No, she doesn't. But she understands that I can't leave yet.”

“Don't wait too long, Maddy. One of these days, he might hurt you. He may not be satisfied with just abusing you emotionally, and up the ante.”

“Dr. Flowers thinks he's going to get worse as I get more independent.”

“Then why stay? It just doesn't make sense to risk what he might do to you. Maddy, you have to move quickly.” The extraordinary thing was that she was beautiful, employed, intelligent, she was the woman that every other woman in the country envied and wanted to be. As far as they knew, she was the spirit of independence, and she had the resources to get out of a bad situation. But abuse was more complicated than that, as she knew only too well, and Bill was learning. It was a tar pit full of guilt and terror, which had her too paralyzed to escape, even though everyone else thought she could do it. She felt as though she were moving in slow motion, but no matter how hard she tried, she could move no faster. And she felt as though she owed Jack her life. What Bill feared, watching her from the sidelines, was that Jack would eventually hurt her physically as well as emotionally, particularly if he could no longer control her. But even she saw what was happening. She was just too frightened still to do anything about it. It had taken her eight years to flee Bobby Joe, and Bill could only hope that this time she wouldn't wait much longer.

“Will you call me at the Vineyard, Maddy? I'm going to be worried sick about you.” It was true, she had been much on his mind lately, far more than he understood or had expected. He was still grieving for his wife, and somewhat obsessed with her, as he finished the book he'd written about her. And yet lately, he was constantly distracted, and sometimes cheered, by thoughts of Maddy. “I'll call you at the office.” He was afraid to call her at home, and add jealousy to the weapons Jack used to torment her.

“I'll call you. I promise. I'll be fine here. I have a lot to do, and we're probably going to Virginia for a few days. I'd love to have Lizzie there, but I don't think Jack would allow it.”

“I just wish you were out of there,” he said grimly. He had no personal stake in it, no romantic involvement with her. But as one human being watching another being tortured, he felt helpless and angry, and desperate to do something to help her. At times, it reminded him of the endless months when his wife was being held hostage. He was constantly waiting for news of her, and frustrated by the fact that he could do nothing to free her. It was what had driven him finally to do whatever he could on his own. And in his naïveté, he had killed her, or at least felt responsible for it. In some ways, this was a painfully similar situation. “I want you to be very careful,” he admonished her, when he left her at her car, outside the restaurant. “Don't do anything to put yourself in jeopardy. This may not be the right time to confront him. You don't have to prove anything, Maddy. You don't have to win his consent. All you have to do is get out when you're ready. He's not going to free you, you have to free yourself, and run like hell till you reach the border.” In some ways, it was like fleeing a Communist country.

“I know that. I left my wedding ring on the kitchen table, and ran like hell, the day I left Bobby Joe. It took him months to figure out where I was, and by then Jack had taken over. I had more security than the Pope for my first few months at the network.”

“You may have to do that again for a while.” He stood looking at her long and hard, as they both stood next to her car. “I don't want him to hurt you.” Or worse, kill her if he snapped somehow, but Bill didn't say that to her. But Bill thought he was capable of it. He was a man without ethics or soul. In Bill's opinion, he was a sociopath, a man without a conscience. “Take care of yourself,” and then he smiled at her, thinking of her daughter, “Mom. I like thinking of you as a mother. It suits you.”

“So do I. It feels great.” She beamed at him.

“Enjoy it. You deserve it.” He gave her a warm hug then, and he was still standing on the sidewalk walking as she drove off, and two hours later, a huge bouquet of flowers came to her office. The flowers were all in pale shades of pink, with pink balloons and a pink teddy bear, and the card read, “Congratulations on your new daughter. Love, Bill.” She put the card in a drawer and smiled as she looked at the flowers. It was a sweet thing to do, and she was touched. She called to thank him, but he was still out, and she left a message on his machine, thanking him, and telling him how much she loved it.

She was still smiling about the flowers and her lunch with Bill, when Jack walked into her office an hour later.

“What the fuck is that?” he said, furious at the pink balloons and the bear. It was easy to figure out the implication of it.

“It's just a joke. It's no big deal.”

“The hell it isn't. Who sent it?” He looked for a card, but couldn't find one, while she frantically tried to figure out who to say they had come from.

“They're from my therapist,” she said benignly, and then realized instantly that wasn't the right answer either. She'd seen one years ago, and Jack had made her stop going. He had been very threatened by him, and told her the therapist was incompetent. In the end, it was easier to stop seeing him. It was part of Jack's master plan, she realized now, to isolate her.

“When did you start that again?”

“Actually, she's just a friend. I met her at the Commission on Violence Against Women.”

“Spare me. What is she? Some kind of dyke women's libber?”

“She's about eighty years old, and has grandchildren. She's a very interesting woman.”

“I'll bet. She must be senile. Anyway if you shoot your mouth off to enough people, Mad, you'll be reading about yourself in the tabloids soon. And I hope you enjoy it when it happens, because you'll be out of a job when it does. So if I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut. And tell that little bitch from Memphis to keep hers shut too, or I'll sue her ass for slander.”

“It wouldn't be slander if she claims to be my daughter,” Maddy said, sounding calmer than she felt, “it's true. And she has a right to say it. But she promised me she won't. And don't call her a little bitch, Jack. She's my daughter.” She said it clearly and politely and he turned to look at her with a malevolent expression.

“Don't tell me what to do, Maddy. Remember me? I own you.”

She was about to respond to him when her secretary walked into the room, and she decided not to. But that was the key here. Jack believed he owned her. And for the past nine years, she had let him think that, because she also believed it. But no longer. She just didn't have the guts to act on it yet, but at least her mind was clearing. And a few minutes later, he left and went back upstairs to his office.

And almost as soon as he did, the phone rang. It was Bill. He had gotten her message, and was pleased.

“I love the flowers!” she said, beaming again, and only slightly shaken by her husband's visit. She was glad she had thought to take the card off, or she'd have been in a far worse situation. “That was such a nice thing to do. Thank you, Bill. And for lunch too.”

“I already miss you,” he said, sounding young and a little awkward. He hadn't sent flowers to anyone but his wife in years, but he had wanted to acknowledge the return of Maddy's daughter. He knew how much it meant to her, and he was deeply moved by what she'd told him, and her confidence in him. He would never betray her. All he wanted was to help her. They were friends now. “I'm going to miss you while I'm gone,” he said. It was a funny thing for him to say, and they both noticed it. But she realized she was going to miss him too. She was coming to rely on him, or at least on knowing that he was nearby, although they didn't see each other often. But they had begun talking daily. At least they could still do that while he was at the Vineyard, except on weekends, when he couldn't call her, with good reason. It was too dangerous for her. “I'll be back in two weeks, Maddy Try to be careful till then.”

“I will. I promise. And have fun with your children.” “I can't wait to meet Lizzie.” It was as though a whole piece of her had been returned, that she had almost forgotten was missing. She had never realized what a big part of her had been taken from her, and now that it was back, she knew it with her heart and soul.

“You'll meet her soon, Bill. Take care,” she said gently, and a minute later, they hung up, and she sat staring out the window, thinking of Bill and the flowers he had sent her. He was a nice man, and a good friend, and she was so glad she had met him. It was funny how life worked sometimes, the things it took away, and the gifts it gave one. She had lost so much in her life, and then found other people, other places, other things, but she felt at one with her past now. All that remained was to ensure the safety of her future. She only hoped that fate would be kind to her again.

And in his house on Dunbarton Street, Bill was also staring out the window. But his prayers for Maddy were more specific. He was praying for her safety. Every fiber of his being told him that she was in danger. Far more than she knew.

Chapter 14

FOR THE TWO WEEKS while Bill was away, things were fairly peaceful for Maddy. She and Jack took a week off and went to Virginia, and he was always in better spirits there. He enjoyed his horses and his farm, and he flew back to Washington several times for meetings with the President, on a variety of issues. And whenever he was away, or out riding somewhere, Maddy would call Bill at the Vineyard. Before that, he had continued to call her daily at the office.

“Is he behaving himself?” Bill asked her with a worried tone.

“Everything's fine,” she reassured him. She wasn't having a good time, but she wasn't in danger either. Jack always backed down after periods when he'd been particularly horrible to her. It was as though he wanted to prove it was all her imagination. As Dr. Flowers had pointed out, it was a classic scheme of Gaslight, so that she would not only seem, but feel, crazy, if she complained about how he behaved with her. And he was doing just that in Virginia. He pretended to not be upset about her daughter, though he did tell her he thought Maddy shouldn't go to Memphis. She might be recognized, and it was too hot there anyway. And he wanted her close to him. He had been unusually amorous to her there, but gentler again, and more civilized, so that her claims that he had hurt her in Paris sounded silly. But she didn't argue with him about anything now, and Dr. Flowers warned her, when they talked, that that in itself might make him suspicious. But she was being honest with Bill when she said she felt safe there. “How's the book?” she asked him. He reported on it to her daily.

“Finished,” he said proudly, on their last weekend away. They were both anxious to get back to Washington. And the commission was meeting on Monday. “I can't believe it.”

“I can't wait to read it.”

“It's not exactly happy reading.”

“I don't expect it to be, but I'm sure it's wonderful.” She knew she had no right to be, but she was proud of him.

“I'll get you a clean copy as soon as it's retyped. I'm anxious for you to read it.” And then there was an odd silence. He wasn't sure how to say it to her, but he had been thinking a lot about her, and worrying about her constantly. “I'm anxious to see you too, Maddy. I've been worried sick about you.”

“Don't be. I'm fine. And I'm going to see Lizzie next weekend. She's coming to Washington to see me. I can't wait to introduce you to her. I've told her all about you.”

“I can't imagine what you'd say about me,” he sounded embarrassed. “I must seem like a prehistoric monument to her, and I'm not very exciting.”

“You are to me. You're my best friend, Bill.” She was closer to him than she had been to anyone in years, except Greg, who had a new girlfriend in New York, and still called when he could get through to her. But they had both figured out that when Jack took his calls, she never got the messages. And when he answered and she was there, he never put the calls through to her. She and Bill were more careful about the timing and circumstances of their phone calls.

“You're very special to me too,” Bill answered her, not knowing what to say. He was confused about his feelings for her, part daughter, part friend, part woman, in alternating combinations, and she felt the same way about him. Sometimes he seemed like a brother to her, and at other times, she was startled by her feelings for him. But neither of them had ever attempted to define it to the other. “Let's have lunch before the commission on Monday. Can you do that?”

“I'd love to.”

And she was even more confused by how nice Jack was to her over their last weekend in Virginia. He brought her flowers from the garden, and breakfast in bed, and went for walks with her, and told her how important she was to him. And when he made love to her now, he was kinder and gentler to her than he had ever been. It was as though the abuses of the past were a figment of her imagination. And she felt guilty again for the things she had said about him to Bill and Greg and Dr. Flowers, and she wanted to correct the bad impression she had left with them about her very loving husband. She was beginning to wonder if it was all her fault. Maybe she just brought out the worst in him. When he wanted to be, and when she was nice to him, he was such an incredibly sweet person.

She tried explaining it to Dr. Flowers the morning they got back, and Dr. Flowers sounded harsh to her when she issued a warning.

“Be careful, Maddy. Look at what you're doing. You're falling into his trap again. He knows what you were thinking, and he's making sure to prove you wrong, and to make you feel it's your fault.” She made it sound so Machiavellian that Maddy felt sorry for Jack as she listened. She had truly maligned him, and now Dr. Flowers believed her. But she didn't say anything about it to Bill when they had lunch, for fear he would say the same thing Dr. Flowers had. Instead, they talked about his book. He had already sold it to a publisher several months before, through an agent.

“What are your plans for the fall?” he asked her carefully, wanting to hear that she was leaving her husband. But she never mentioned it at lunch, and she looked happier and more relaxed than he had seen her since he'd known her. Something seemed to be going well, but he was just as worried about her. And like Dr. Flowers, he was afraid that Jack was going to lure her back into his trap, and keep her there forever, alternately abusing and confusing her until she could stand it no longer. But she said nothing about leaving to him.

“I want to try and get the show back on track. Our ratings have taken a sudden dive. I thought it was because of Brad, but Jack thinks I'm in a slump too, and my delivery isn't what it should be. He said my stories have been really boring. I want to research some specials to do this fall, and see if we can't put some zip back into it.” As usual, Jack was blaming her for something that wasn't her fault, Bill suspected, but she was more than willing to believe him. It wasn't that she was stupid. It was that she was mesmerized, and he was infinitely convincing. But unless one knew the pattern, it was difficult for people outside the inner circle to see it. And Maddy was too close to see.

Bill was tempted to call Dr. Flowers about it, after he and Maddy had lunch, but he knew that as ethical as she was, now that Maddy was her patient, Dr. Flowers wouldn't discuss her with him, and he understood that. He just had to sit and watch what was happening to her, and step in when he saw an opportunity to help her, but for the moment there was none. And once again he was reminded of Margaret, and his long months of waiting, to rescue her and bring her back to safety. What pained him most to remember was the outcome. And this time he didn't want to make the same mistake, and frighten the enemy by moving in. More than anyone, he knew that Jack was a formidable opponent, a terrorist of the utmost skill. And Bill wanted more than anything to save her. He just hoped he could do it this time.

The commission was moving ahead well, and they were talking about having more frequent meetings. The First Lady had brought six more people in, and they were devising a campaign for the fall, of ads against domestic violence and crimes against women. There were six different ads being worked on, and subgroups that were being formed. He and Maddy were on a subcommittee on rape, and the things they were learning were appalling. There was another subcommittee concentrating on murders, but neither he nor Maddy had wanted to be on it.

And the weekend after they both got back, Lizzie came to town again, and Maddy put her up at the Four Seasons. She invited Bill to have tea with them, and he was impressed when he met her. She was as beautiful as Maddy had said, and every bit as bright as her mother. And given the few advantages she'd had, she sounded surprisingly educated. She had been diligent about going to school, enjoyed her courses at the city college in Memphis, and she was obviously a voracious reader.

“I'd like to get her into Georgetown next term, if I can,” Maddy said to him, as they sat having tea in the lobby. And Lizzie said she was excited about it.

“I've got some connections that might be helpful there,” Bill volunteered. “What do you want to study?”

“Foreign policy, and communications,” Lizzie said without hesitation.

“I'd love to get her an internship at the network, but that's not possible,” Maddy said regretfully. She hadn't even told Jack Lizzie was there, and Maddy wasn't going to tell him about it. He was being so much nicer to her that she didn't want to upset him. He was talking about taking her back to Europe in October, but she hadn't told Bill yet. “If Lizzie comes to school here, we're going to get her a little apartment in Georgetown.”

“Make sure it's safe,” Bill said, looking worried. They had both been horrified by the statistics on rape they'd learned that week at the commission.

“Don't worry, I will,” Maddy nodded, thinking of the same thing. “She should probably have a roommate.” And when Lizzie went to powder her nose, Bill told Maddy how lovely he thought her.

“She's a terrific girl, you must be very proud of her,” he said smiling at Maddy.

“I am, though I have no right to be.” Maddy was taking her to the theater that night. She had told Jack she was going to a women's dinner related to the commission, and he wasn't pleased, but since it involved the First Lady, he understood.

And when Lizzie came back to the table, they talked about school some more, and her plans to move to Washington, to be closer to her mother. It was like a fairy tale come true, for both of them. But Bill felt with utter certainty that they both deserved it.

It was five o'clock when he finally left them, and a few minutes later, Maddy left Lizzie at the hotel, and went home to see Jack and change for the theater. She and Lizzie were going to a new production of The King and I, and Maddy was excited about taking Lizzie to her first musical play. There were a lot of treats in store for them, and Maddy could hardly wait to get started.

When she got home, Jack was relaxing and watching the weekend broadcast. The weekend anchors had been doing better in the ratings than she and Brad were, but he still refused to listen to Maddy that it was Brad's fault. He just wasn't up to being on screen as an anchor. Jack's plot to get rid of Greg had backfired badly. But he was continuing to blame it on Maddy, and insisted it was her fault. And although the producer agreed with her, he was too afraid to tell Jack that. No one liked to cross him.

Jack had made plans to have dinner with friends, although he didn't like going out without her on the weekend, and she left him as he was getting dressed. And he kissed her lovingly before she went out, and she was pleased that he was being so nice to her. It was so much easier this way. And she couldn't help wondering if the bad times were behind them.

She picked Lizzie up at the hotel in a cab, and they went straight to the theater, and Lizzie was like a little girl as she watched the play, and applauded frantically when it was over.

“It's the best thing I've ever seen, Mom!” she said emphatically, as they left the theater, just as Maddy noticed a man with a camera out of the corner of her eye, watching them. There was a brief flash, and then he disappeared. It was no big deal, Maddy thought, he was probably just a tourist who had recognized her, and wanted her photograph, and she forgot about it. She was too busy talking to Lizzie to care about much else. They'd had a wonderful evening.

Lizzie got into the cab with her, and Maddy dropped her off at the hotel, and after giving her a hug, promised to meet her the next morning for breakfast. Once again she would have to hide Lizzie from Jack. She hated lying to him, but was going to tell him she was going to church, because he never went with her. And after that, Lizzie was flying back to Memphis, and Maddy was going to spend the day with her husband. It had been perfectly orchestrated, and she was thrilled with the evening they'd spent, and pleased with herself as she walked into the house in Georgetown a few minutes later.

Jack was in the living room, watching the late news when she walked in, and she smiled broadly at him, still riding the crest of the wave of joy she'd shared with Lizzie all evening at The King and I.

“Did you have fun?” he asked innocently, as she came to sit next to him, and Maddy nodded with a smile.

“It was interesting,” she lied to him, and she hated doing it, but she knew she couldn't tell him she'd been with Lizzie. He had flatly forbidden Maddy to see her again.

“Who was there?”

“Phyllis, of course, and most of the women on the commission. They're a good group,” she said, aching to change the subject.

“Phyllis was there? My, that's clever of her. I was just watching her on the news, at a temple in Kyoto. They arrived there this morning.” Maddy stared at him for an instant, not sure what to say to him. “Now, why don't you tell me who you were really with. Was it a guy? Are you fucking around?” He grabbed her throat with one hand, and held it there, gently squeezing, while she tried not to panic and looked him squarely in the eye.

“I wouldn't do that to you,” she said, as she felt her airway slowly closing.

“Then where were you? Try telling me the truth this time.”

“I was with Lizzie,” she whispered.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“My daughter.”

“Oh, for God's sake,” he said, shoving her away from him, as she fell backward on the couch, feeling a rush of air in her lungs with considerable relief. “Why the hell did you bring that slut here?”

“She's not a slut,” Maddy said quietly. “And I wanted to see her.”

“You're going to get yourself smeared all over the tabloids. I told you to stay away from her.”

“We need each other,” she said simply, as he stared at her in fury. It infuriated him when she didn't obey his orders.

“I told you, for your own good, you can't afford it. If you think your ratings are lousy now, wait till you see what happens when someone leaks that story. And more than likely, she will.”

“All she wants is to see me. She doesn't want publicity,” Maddy said quietly, sorry that she had lied to him and that he was so angry about it. But his rigidity about her seeing Lizzie didn't give Maddy many options.

“That's what you think. How can you be so stupid? Wait till she starts hitting you up for money, if she hasn't already. Or has she?” He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her. “You know, you're getting to be more trouble than you're worth. If it isn't one goddamn thing, it's another. Where is she now?”

“At a hotel. The Four Seasons.”

“Lucky for her. And you're telling me she's not interested in the money?”

“I'm telling you that she wants a mother,” Maddy tried to soothe him, but he looked furious as he strode across the room, and then stood looking at her, with irritation and contempt.

“You're always doing something to screw me over, aren't you, Mad? If it's not an editorial about that nutcase Paul McCutchins was married to, it's fucking up your ratings, and now this … you're going to get sucked right down the tubes with this. Watch if I'm not right on this one, Mad. And when that happens, believe me, you'll be damn sorry.” But he didn't say another word about it, he just stomped upstairs, and slammed the door to his bathroom, as Maddy sat in the living room for a little bit, trying to figure out how to explain to him how much it meant to her, and how sorry she was that she had upset him. It was all her fault, she knew, because she had lied to him about having had a baby. Maybe if she had told him from the first, he wouldn't have been so upset by it. But all she could do was apologize, and try to be discreet about it now. The one thing she knew was that she was not going to give up her daughter, now that they had found each other at last.

She went upstairs quietly, after she turned off the lights, and by the time she'd changed into her nightgown, he was in bed, with his eyes closed and the lights off. But she was sure he wasn't sleeping, and when she got into bed with him, he spoke to her without opening his eyes. “I hate it when you lie to me. I feel as though I can't trust you anymore. You're always doing something to hurt me.”

“I'm so sorry, Jack,” she said, touching his face with her hand, and forgetting totally that he had nearly strangled her half an hour before when he accused her of cheating on him. “I don't mean to upset you. But I really want to see her.”

“I told you, I don't want you to. Can't you get that into your head? I never wanted kids in the first place, and neither did you,” he said, opening his eyes and looking at her. “And I sure didn't want to get stuck with some nineteen-year-old little whore from Memphis.”

“Please don't say things like that about her,” Maddy begged him, but what she really wanted was for him to forgive her, for lying to him, betraying him, and having her illegitimate child appear seven years after they were married, when she'd never even told him about her in the first place. She realized it was a lot to ask him to swallow. But she couldn't help wishing that his reaction were more like Bill's. He had really liked Lizzie when they met.

“I want you to stop seeing her,” Jack said, looking at her with conviction. “You owe me that much, Mad. You never told me she existed, now I want her to disappear again from both our lives. You don't need her, you don't even know her.”

“I can't do that. I can't have kids. And I never should have given her up in the first place.”

“Even if it costs you our marriage?” It was a hell of a threat.

“Is that what you're saying to me, that it will?” she asked, looking horrified. He was threatening her, and forcing her to make a choice that would break her heart. But at the moment, she didn't want to leave him either. He had been so nice to her for the past few weeks that she'd been beginning to think that things were working out between them. And now this had happened. She wished she hadn't lied to him so she could take Lizzie to the theater.

She was desperate to see her daughter and didn't know what to do about it without upsetting her husband.

“It's a possibility,” Jack said, in answer to her question about her seeing Lizzie being a threat to their marriage. “This was never part of the deal. In fact, it very emphatically wasn't. You entered this marriage on a fraudulent basis, you told me you'd never had kids. You lied to me. I could have our marriage annulled for that.”

“After seven years?” She looked shocked.

“If I can prove you defrauded me, and lied to me, which you did and I can, then there is no marriage. You'd better think of that before you drag her into our lives any further. Give it some serious thought, Mad. I mean it.” And with that, he turned over and closed his eyes, and five minutes later, he was snoring, as Maddy stared at him. She didn't know what to do or say. She didn't want to give Lizzie up again. She couldn't do that to her, or herself. But she didn't want to lose Jack either. He had given her so much, and the abuses she had accused him of were beginning to seem like figments of her imagination, and Lizzie wasn't. Maddy felt as though it was she who had behaved badly toward him, and now he was the victim, just as he had said to her. She lay in bed for hours that night, thinking about it, and feeling guilty toward him.

But in the morning, she still had no answers. She explained to him that she was going to say good-bye to Lizzie at the hotel, and have breakfast with her, and then she'd be back and they could spend the day together.

“You'd better tell her you're not going to see her again, Mad. You're playing with fire here. With me, and with the press. It's a high price to pay for some kid you don't even know, and will never miss if you kiss her off now.”

“I told you, Jack,” she said honestly. She didn't want to lie to him again. It was one more sin to add to her many others, as he saw it. “I can't do that.”

“You have to.”

“I won't do that to her.”

“You'd rather do it to me, wouldn't you? That says a lot to me, about what you think about this marriage.” He looked pained as he said it. The consummate victim.

“You're not being reasonable about this,” she tried to explain it to him, but he brushed her away with a look of outrage.

“Reasonable? Are you kidding me? Are you nuts? What drugs are you on? How reasonable does it seem to you to spring your bastard kid on me after never telling me you had one?”

“That was wrong of me, I agree. But I'm not asking you to see her, Jack. I want to.”

“Then you're even crazier than I think you are. How about a family portrait on the cover of People? Would that be enough for you? Because that's what's going to happen sooner or later. And then you can kiss your ass good-bye with the public.”

“Maybe not,” she said quietly, “maybe they'd be more understanding about it than you are.”

“Shit. For chrissake, will you come to your senses?”

They argued about it for half an hour. And Jack had to leave to play golf with two of the President's advisers, but not before he warned Maddy not to see Lizzie ever again. But Maddy left to meet Lizzie for breakfast and they had a nice time, and Lizzie noticed that she looked upset, but Maddy denied it. She didn't want to upset her, and she didn't tell her that she wouldn't see her again. Instead she promised to have her back soon for another weekend, and told her she'd let her know what she found out about Georgetown. They kissed and hugged when she left, and Maddy gave her money for the cab to the airport, but although she'd offered it, Lizzie wouldn't take more than that. She was very conscientious about not taking anything from her mother beyond the plane ticket, and the hotel, and cab fare. Maddy had offered to open a bank account for her, and Lizzie had categorically refused it. She didn't want to take advantage of her mother. But Maddy knew that Jack would never have believed that.

Maddy was back by noon, and Jack was still out. And she called Bill and told him everything that had happened.

“It was all my fault,” she said miserably, “I shouldn't have lied to him.”

But Bill disagreed with her. “He's being a bastard about this, and pretending to be the victim. He isn't, Maddy. You are. Why can't you see that?” He was more frustrated about it than ever. They talked for nearly an hour, and at the end of it, Maddy sounded even more depressed. It was as though she couldn't understand what Bill was saying to her. He wondered if she'd ever swim free of the chains that bound her. She seemed to be going backward lately instead of forward.

And that night when Jack came home, he said not a word about Lizzie. Maddy wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not, or if he was just saving himself for another ultimatum. But she did everything she could to please him. She made a nice dinner for him, and spoke pleasantly. They made love that night, and he was sweeter to her than ever, which made her feel even more guilty for making him so unhappy.

And the next day when they went to work, just as Jack had predicted, the whole thing blew up in their faces. The picture the man at the theater had taken of Lizzie and Maddy was on the front of every tabloid, in several variations. And someone had either talked or guessed at the truth. The banner headlines read “Maddy Hunter and Her Long Lost Daughter.” It told as much as they knew, that Maddy had had a baby at fifteen and given it up for adoption. There were several interviews with Bobby Joe, and a teacher at her old school. The tabloids had really done their homework.

Jack was in her office and in her face with samples of every tabloid. “Pretty isn't it? I hope you're proud of this. And what the fuck are we supposed to do? We've been selling you as the Virgin Mary for the last nine years, and now you look like what you are, Mad. A fucking whore, for chrissake. Shit, why the hell didn't you listen to me?” The photograph of her and Lizzie made them look like twins, they looked so much alike. And Jack was raging around her office like a bull with a dagger in his side. But there was no denying what had happened.

Maddy called Lizzie in Memphis to warn her, and when Jack finally left and went back to his own office, she called Dr. Flowers and then Bill, and they both said almost the same thing. It wasn't her fault, and it wasn't as bad as she thought. The public loved her. She was a good person, and she'd made a youthful mistake, and knowing about it would only make them love her more and sympathize with her. The picture of her and Lizzie was actually very sweet, they had their arms around each other.

But Jack had done everything he could, and very successfully, to make her feel terrified and guilty. And even Lizzie had cried when she called her.

“I'm so sorry, Mom. I didn't want to make trouble for you. Is Jack really mad?” She was worried about Maddy. She hadn't liked Jack when she met him, and she thought he was pretty scary. There was something sinister about him.

“He's not happy, but he'll get over it.” It was a gentle understatement.

“Is he going to fire you?”

“I don't think so. Besides, I don't think the union will let him. It would be discriminatory,” unless Jack could get her on the morals clause in her contract. But whether or not he could, he was furious with her, and she was in agony over the pain she had caused him. “We just have to ride it out. But promise me, you won't talk to any reporters.”

“I swear. I never did, and I wouldn't. I wouldn't do anything to hurt you. I love you.” She was sobbing at the other end, and Maddy did what she could to reassure her.

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I believe you. They'll get bored with it eventually. Try not to worry about it too much.”

But the tabloid TV shows began stalking her by noon, and the network was going crazy. Every magazine in the country had called, wanting an interview about it.

“Maybe we should give them what they want,” the head of PR suggested finally. “How bad could it be? So she had a baby at fifteen. It's happened before. She didn't kill it, for chrissake, and it's kind of a sweet story now, if we work it right. What do you think, Jack?” He looked hopeful as he glanced at his employer.

“I think I want to kick her ass from here to Cleveland. That's what I think,” Jack said in instant response to the question. He had never been as furious at her, or had as much reason to be. “She's a fool for even admitting to that little bitch that she was her mother. Mother. What the hell does that mean in a case like this? She fucked some high school jock and got knocked up and dumped the kid the minute she was born. And now she goes around looking saintly and talking about her daughter. Shit, a cat has more relationship with its litter than Maddy does with this dumb bitch from Memphis. The girl's just riding on Maddy's coattails, and she doesn't see it.”

“There may be a little more to it than that,” the head of PR said delicately. He was startled by the vehemence of Jack's reaction to the situation. He'd been under a lot of pressure lately. The ratings for Maddy's show had been slipping daily, which may have been part of why he was so angry at her. But they all knew that that wasn't her fault, and they had said as much to Jack, but he didn't want to hear that either.

He was still steaming when they went home that night, and he tried to extract a promise from Maddy that she wouldn't see Lizzie again, but she wouldn't agree to it. And by midnight, he was so angry, he slammed out of the house and didn't come back until the next morning. She had no idea where he went, but when she looked, she could see TV cameras outside, and she didn't dare go after him. All she could do now was what she'd told Lizzie to do. Sit tight. Lizzie was staying at a friend's so they didn't find her at the boarding house, and her boss had given her the rest of the week off from the restaurant, because he was so impressed that she really was Maddy Hunter's daughter.

The only one who wasn't impressed was Jack. He was anything but impressed. He put her on a two-week suspension from the show for the disruption she was causing all of them, and he told her to clean up her act, give up her kid, and not to come back to work until she did that. She was in total disgrace with him, and he told her, with veins throbbing in his head, that if she ever lied to him again, about anything, he was going to kill her. And all she felt, as she listened to him, was guilty. Whatever happened, it was always her fault.

Chapter 15

AS SEPTEMBER ROLLED ON, the tabloids began to lose interest in Maddy and her daughter. Reporters turned up at the restaurant in Memphis once or twice, but Lizzie's boss hid her in the back room until they left, and eventually they stopped coming. It was a little harder for Maddy, who was more exposed, and had more trouble avoiding the press than Lizzie. At Jack's insistence, she made no comments to anyone, and other than the one picture of them at The King and I, there wasn't much to go on. Maddy neither denied nor confirmed that Lizzie was her daughter, although she would have liked to tell them that she was very proud of her, and she was thrilled that Lizzie had found her. But for Jack's sake, she didn't. She and Lizzie had agreed that she shouldn't come to Washington for a while, but Maddy was still pursuing a place for her at Georgetown University, and Bill was doing whatever he could to help her. Lizzie was an easy sell. She had good grades, and terrific recommendations from her teachers in Memphis.

The First Lady's commission met again, and Bill was happy to see Maddy there. But he thought she seemed stressed, and tired, and worried. The tabloid attack had taken a toll on her, and she said that Jack was still giving her a hard time about it. He was giving her a bad time about her ratings too, and claiming now that it was because of the scandal over her illegitimate daughter. But Bill knew most of it from his daily calls to her. What he didn't know, and wasn't sure of now, was if she would ever leave her husband. She had stopped talking about it, and seemed to be blaming herself for most of their problems.

Bill was so upset about the situation she was in that he took Dr. Flowers aside at one of their commission meetings, and said something to her about it. She didn't divulge any secrets to him, and all she could do was reassure him.

“Most women put up with abuse for years,” she said sensibly, intrigued by both his interest and his reaction. He seemed almost frantic with worry about Maddy. “And this is the subtlest, most insidious kind. Men like Jack are good at it. He makes her feel responsible for what he does, and portrays himself as the victim. And the thing you have to remember, Bill, is that she lets him.”

“What can we do to help her?” He wanted to, desperately, but he had no idea how to do it.

“Be there for her. Listen. Wait. Tell her honestly what you think and see. But if she wants to feel guilty about Jack, she will. She'll probably work her way through it eventually. You're doing everything you can for the moment.” She didn't say it to him, but she knew from Maddy that he called her daily, and she valued his friendship. Dr. Flowers couldn't help wondering what else was there, but Maddy was staunch in her insistence that they were no more than friends, and that neither of them had romantic motives. Dr. Flowers was not quite as certain. But whatever it was, she liked Bill, and had a great deal of respect for both him and Maddy.

“I'm just worried that one of these days, his subtleties are going to give way to something more obvious. I'm still afraid he's going to hurt her.”

“He's hurting her now,” she said clearly. “But men like him don't usually get violent. I can't promise you he won't, but I think he's smarter than that. Although the closer he gets to losing his prey, the worse it's going to get for her. He's not going to let her go kindly.”

They chatted for a little while longer after Maddy had left that day, and Bill wasn't encouraged when he drove home. He had only once before in his life felt that helpless. And he couldn't help wondering if his own fears that Maddy would get hurt were based on his own experience when his wife had been kidnapped and then murdered. Until then, he had never truly believed that anything as terrible as that could happen.

And the following week, he gave Maddy the clean manuscript of his book to read. She was halfway through it on the weekend, with tears streaming down her face, when Jack saw it.

“What the hell are you reading to make you cry like that?” he asked with curiosity. They were in Virginia over a rainy weekend, and she'd been lying on the couch all afternoon, crying and reading. Bill's description of what it was like when his wife was kidnapped by terrorists tore her heart out.

“It's Bill Alexander's book. It's very well written.”

“Oh, for chrissake, why would you want to read crap like that? The guy is such a loser, it's hard to believe he could write anything worth reading.” Jack had total disregard for him, and it was obvious he didn't like him. He would have liked him even less, hated him in fact, if he had suspected how much support he gave Maddy And she wondered if Jack sensed it.

“It's very moving.”

Jack didn't mention it again, but when she went to look for the manuscript that night, she couldn't find it, and she finally asked Jack if he'd seen it.

“Yeah, I thought I'd spare you another night of tears over it. I put it where it belongs. In the garbage.”

“You threw it out?” She was shocked that he'd done it.

“You've got better things to do with your time. If you did a little more research, the ratings for your show would be better.”

“You know how much research I do,” she said defensively. She'd currently been working on a scandal brewing at the CIA, and another story about Customs violations. “And you also know my research is not the problem.”

“Maybe you're getting old, kid. You know, the public doesn't like women over thirty.” He said anything he could to undermine her.

“You had no right to throw that book out. I wasn't finished. And I promised to return the manuscript to him.” She was upset, and Jack looked totally indifferent to it. It was just another form of disrespect for her, and for Bill Alexander. Fortunately, it had been a copy and not the original.

“Don't waste your time, Mad.” He went upstairs to their bedroom then, and when she came to bed, he made love to her. And she had noticed lately that he was getting rough with her again, as though to punish her for her many transgressions. He wasn't so brutal with her that she could complain, and when she said something to him, he told her that she had imagined he was rough with her. He tried to convince her that he had been gentle with her, but she knew better.

And the following week, when they were back in Washington, Brad startled everyone by solving the show's biggest problem. He talked to Maddy before he went to see Jack, but he told her he had realized that being an anchor was no easy task, even with as competent a co-anchor as Maddy.

“I always thought I was good at the on-air stuff, but it's a lot different hanging out of a tree or off a tank, for a two-minute sound bite.” He smiled at her ruefully, “I don't think I have the knack for this. And to be honest with you, I haven't enjoyed it.” He had already taken a job with another network, to be their correspondent in Asia. He was going to be based in Singapore, and he could hardly wait to leave. And although Maddy had begun to like him better, she was relieved that he was going. She couldn't help wondering what Jack's reaction would be.

As it turned out, he made almost no comment about it whatsoever. A memo went out the next day, saying that Brad was leaving and that he had agreed to finish out the week. They had a provisional contract for the first six months, because Brad himself hadn't been sure he would like it. Maddy could tell by looking at Jack that he wasn't pleased, but he admitted nothing to her. All he said was that it put an even greater burden on her now, until they found someone else to co-anchor with her.

“I hope your ratings don't shoot right down the tubes,” he said, sounding worried. But his fears rapidly proved to be unfounded. Rather than going down, they skyrocketed as soon as Brad left the show the following week, and the producer even suggested to Jack that they let her continue solo. But he insisted that she wasn't strong enough to carry the show alone, and he wanted someone to anchor with her. It was yet another way of putting her down. But in the meantime, their ratings were back at an all-time high, and Maddy was happy about it, even if Jack didn't acknowledge it.

But in spite of the ratings, which were an enormous relief to her, she still sounded down to Bill whenever he called her. She had been beating herself up over the show for a long time. She missed working with Greg. And she said she missed Lizzie. She wasn't sure what the problem was, but she admitted to him that she was in lousy spirits. They improved markedly when Bill called her to tell her he had gotten Lizzie into Georgetown. She had the grades and the skills, and she had sent in a wonderful application. But it was one of the most popular schools in the country, and there had been some question for a while as to whether they could find a place for her. He had called several of his contacts, and based on Bill, and the recommendations Lizzie had gotten from her teachers, they had decided to accept her. And Maddy was thrilled for her. She told Bill she was going to get her a little apartment in Georgetown, and she and Lizzie could see each other whenever they wanted. Maddy was ecstatic, and deeply grateful to him.

“Wait till I tell her!”

“Tell her I had nothing to do with it,” Bill said with humility. “She really earned this herself. All I did was open a few doors, but it would never have happened if she didn't deserve it.”

“You're a saint, Bill,” Maddy smiled again. She had been mortified when she had to tell him that Jack had thrown his manuscript out, but it didn't surprise him. He had sent her another copy, and she read it in spare moments at the office. She had just finished it the day before, and they talked about it for some time. She thought it was going to have tremendous impact. It was not only intelligent, but honest and warm, and overwhelmingly human.

And that weekend, she told Lizzie in person about Georgetown. Jack went to Las Vegas for the weekend, with a group of men, and Maddy took a flight to Memphis. They went out to dinner and had a good time, and made plans. Maddy promised to find her an apartment in December, before Lizzie started the term at Georgetown after Christmas. Lizzie couldn't believe her good fortune.

“Don't get me anything too expensive,” she said with a worried frown. “If I'm going to school full-time, I can only work nights and weekends.”

“And when do you think you're going to do your homework?” Maddy asked, sounding like a mom, and loving every minute of it. “You can't work if you're going to get good grades, Lizzie. Think about it.” But there wasn't much to think about from Lizzie's perspective. She had already put herself through a year and a half of college, by working every minute.

“Did they offer me a scholarship?” She still looked worried.

“No, but I am. Don't be silly, Lizzie. Times have changed. You have a mom now.” And one who made a healthy living on one of the highest-rated news shows in the country. She had every intention of putting Lizzie through college, and paying for her apartment and expenses. And she explained that to her in no uncertain terms. “I don't expect you to support yourself. You deserve a break. You've had enough hard times.” She felt she had a lot to make up to her for, and all she wanted now was to do that. She couldn't undo the past, but she could at least ensure her future.

“I can't let you do that. I'll pay you back one day,” Lizzie said solemnly.

“You can support me in my old age,” Maddy laughed, “like a devoted daughter.” The truth was that they were already devoted to each other, and once again, they shared a terrific weekend with each other. They had discovered rapidly that they shared a lot of the same views, had much the same taste in clothes and the things they liked. The only thing they differed on, vehemently, was music. Lizzie was addicted to punk rock and country western, both of which Maddy hated. “I just hope you outgrow it,” Maddy teased her, and Lizzie swore she wouldn't.

“The stuff you listen to is so corny, yuk!” Lizzie teased her back.

They went on long walks together, and spent a quiet morning together on Sunday after they went to church. And then Maddy flew back to Washington, and got home before Jack got in from Vegas. He had said he'd be in around midnight. And she hadn't told him where she was going, and she didn't intend to tell him when he returned. Lizzie was still a time bomb between them.

She was unpacking her small bag when the phone rang on Sunday night, and she was surprised to hear Bill's voice when she answered. He never called her at home, usually only in the office, in case Jack answered.

“Is this a bad time?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“No, it's fine. I just came back from seeing Lizzie. She's ecstatic about Georgetown.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I've been thinking about you all day. I'm glad you're all right. I don't know why, but I was worried about you.” But that wasn't unusual for him either. Ever since she'd walked into his life, she was all he could think of. She was in such a tough situation. She felt she owed Jack so much that she believed she had to take whatever he dished out to her, and so far Bill hadn't been able to convince her of anything different, even though she had begun to realize that Jack was abusive. It was intensely frustrating for Bill. And he worried constantly about her. He had even mentioned her to his children, who were intrigued that he knew her. “Is your husband around?” he asked cautiously. He suspected he wasn't if she was talking about Lizzie.

“No. He went to Las Vegas for the weekend. They were going to have dinner there and see one last show, and come home pretty late. He said midnight, but I bet he won't be home till three or four in the morning.”

“What about dinner then?” he was quick to ask her, relieved to find her alone. “I was just about to make myself some pasta and a salad. Can I interest you in something simple? Or we could go out if you prefer.” He had never invited her to dinner before, although they had had lunch several times, and she always enjoyed spending time with him. He had become her mentor and her confidant, and in some ways, her guardian angel. And with Greg gone, he had become her best friend.

“Actually, I'd love to have dinner with you,” she smiled at the invitation. And they both thought his place was a good idea. There was no point starting rumors, and given the level of interest in her the tabloids had, they could have. And neither of them wanted that kind of problem. “Do you want me to bring anything? Wine? Dessert? Napkins?” She sounded happy that she was going to see him.

“Just bring you. And don't expect too much. My cooking is pretty plain. I've really only learned in the past year.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll help you.”

She arrived at his house half an hour later, with a bottle of red wine in one hand, and wearing a white sweater and blue jeans. And with her hair hanging straight down her back, she looked more like Lizzie than ever. And Bill commented on it.

“She's such a cute kid,” Maddy said proudly, as though they'd shared an entire lifetime together.

Maddy was very impressed by how proficient Bill actually was in the kitchen. He was wearing a starched blue shirt and jeans, and he had rolled up his sleeves, and made an excellent salad. He heated the French bread he had bought for her, and his fettuccine Alfredo was delicious. And the red wine she'd brought was perfect with it. And as they sat in his comfortable kitchen, looking out at the garden he loved, they talked about many things. His diplomatic posts, his academic career, his book, and her show, and eventually his children. They were completely at ease with each other, as friends should be. He found he could talk to her about anything, even his concerns about his daughter's marriage. He thought she worked too hard, had had too many kids in too short a time, and he was worried that his son-in-law was too critical of her. They sounded like a nice family and Maddy would have envied him more than she did, if she didn't have Lizzie.

“I never realized how important children were, until I couldn't have them. I was stupid to let Jack talk me into that, but it was so important to him, and he'd done so much for me, I felt like I owed him that too. All my life, people have told me what to do about having kids or not having them, or giving them up, or seeing to it that I couldn't have them.” It seemed incredible now talking about it with him, but the bitterness and anguish had gone out of it for her to some degree, now that she had found Lizzie. “Imagine if I never had, think of how sad my life would have been, never to have children.”

“It's hard to imagine. My children are what make my life worth living,” he admitted. “Sometimes I think I was more involved with them than Margaret. She was a lot more casual about it. I was always more worried about them, and a little overprotective.” But Maddy could understand that better now. She was constantly worrying about Lizzie, that something might happen to her, and the greatest gift in her life would suddenly vanish. As though it was too sweet a gift to deserve, and she would be punished by having Lizzie disappear.

“I'll always feel guilty for giving her up. It's a miracle she came out of it as well as she did. In some ways, she's a lot healthier than I am,” Maddy said with admiration, as he put a cup of chocolate mousse in front of her, and she tasted it. Like everything else he had served, it was delicious.

“She didn't have the hard hits you did, Maddy. It's amazing you're as whole as you are. Although I'm sure oshe had some tough times too, in foster homes and orphanages. That can't have been easy for her either. Thank God you have each other.” And then he asked her an odd question. “Now that you have her, and you see what it's like, would you ever want more kids?”

“I'd love it, but I don't think there's much chance that will happen,” she smiled wistfully at him, “I didn't give any others away, and I can't have any … the only way I'd have kids would be if I adopted, and Jack won't let me.” It saddened him to hear that Jack was still so much a part of the equation. She was saying nothing about leaving him these days. She hadn't made her peace with the situation she was in, but she hadn't gotten up enough courage to leave either. And she still felt she owed him so much, particularly after the grief she'd caused him over Lizzie, and her deception.

“What if there were no Jack? Would you adopt?” It was a pointless question, but he was curious about it. She obviously liked kids, and took so much pleasure in her newfound relationship with her daughter. She was a surprisingly good mother, although she was a novice at it.

“Probably,” she said, looking surprised herself. “I've never thought about it. Mostly because I never thought I'd leave Jack. And even now, I don't know if I'll ever have the guts to do it.”

“Do you want to? Leave Jack, I mean.” Sometimes he thought she did, and sometimes he didn't. It was an area of her life that was full of guilt, confusion, and conflict. But in his eyes at least, it was certainly not a marriage. All she was was a victim.

“I would like to leave all the agony and the fear, and the guilt that I feel when I'm with him … maybe what I'd really like is to have him without all that, and I don't think it's possible. But when I think of leaving him, I think of leaving the man I thought he would be, and has been from time to time, and used to be. And when I think of staying, I think of staying with the bastard he can be, and is much too often. It's hard to reconcile those two things. I'm never quite sure who he is, or who I am, or who I'd be leaving.” It was as sensibly as she could put it, but it explained it a little better to him.

“Maybe we all do that a little, though to a lesser degree.” In a way, she was frozen in indecision because both sides weighed equally with her, whereas in his mind, the abuse Jack perpetrated on her should have tipped the balance. But he hadn't had the abusive childhood she had, which had predisposed her to letting Jack do whatever he wanted to her, no matter how abusive. It had taken her nearly nine years, seven of them married to him, to realize that he and Bobby Joe actually had a lot in common. What Jack did to her was just more subtle.

“Even in my case,” Bill went on, “I forget some of the things Margaret did that used to annoy me. When I look back now, and remember the years we shared, it all looks so perfect. But we had our differences, as most people do, and a couple of tough times. When I accepted our first diplomatic post, and wanted to leave Cambridge, she threatened to leave me. She didn't want to go anywhere, and she thought I was crazy. As it turned out,” he looked sadly at Maddy “she was right. I should never have done it. She'd be alive today if I hadn't.”

“You can't say that,” Maddy said softly, reaching across the table to touch his hand gently. “What happens is destiny. She could have died in a plane crash, been hit by a car, killed in the street, gotten cancer … you couldn't know what would happen. And you must have thought you were doing the right thing.”

“I did. And I never thought Colombia would be as dangerous as it was, or that we'd be so much at risk there. If I had understood that, I'd never have taken the job.”

“I know that,” Maddy said, with her hand still on his, and he took it in his own and held it. It was so comforting to be with her. “I'm sure she knew it too. It's like saying you should never take a plane because they crash sometimes. You have to lead your life as best you can, and take reasonable risks. Most of the time, it's worth it. You can't beat yourself up over it. That's not fair. You deserve better than that,” she said simply.

“So do you,” he said with her hand in his, as he looked at her across the table. “I wish you believed that.”

“I'm trying to learn,” she said softly, “I've had a lot of years of people telling me I didn't. It's hard not to hear that.”

“I wish I could take all that away from you. You deserve a much better life than you've had, Maddy. I wish I could protect you, and help you.”

“You do. More than you know. I'd be lost without you.” She told him everything now, all her hopes, all her fears, all her problems. There was nothing he didn't know about her life, far more than Jack did. And she was grateful to Bill for being there for her.

He poured them each a cup of coffee then, and they strolled outside to sit in his garden. The air was cool, but it was still pleasant, as they sat on a bench, and he put an arm around her. It had been a perfect evening, after a lovely weekend.

“We'll have to do this again sometime,” he said quietly, “if you can.” It had been lucky for him that Jack was in Vegas.

“I don't think Jack would understand it,” she said honestly. She wasn't even sure she did. She knew Jack would be angry if he knew about the dinner with Bill Alexander. But she had already decided not to tell him. There seemed to be a lot she wasn't telling him these days.

“I'm here for you, Maddy, if you need me. I hope you know that,” he said, turning to look at her in the light from his living room, and the moonlight.

“I know that, Bill, thank you.” Their eyes held for a long minute, and then he pulled her closer to him, and they sat there together for a long time, saying nothing, just silent, and at peace, comfortable with each other, as good friends should be.

Chapter 16

OCTOBER SEEMED MORE HECTIC than usual to everyone. The social season was in full swing. The world of politics seemed more fraught with tension than usual. The trouble in Iraq was still claiming lives, and people were unhappy about it. And Jack threw her a curve and hired another co-anchor for her. He was better than Brad, but he was extremely difficult, and jealous and hostile to Maddy. His name was Elliott Noble. He had co-anchored before, and although he was cold as ice, he was good, and at least this time their ratings didn't suffer. They even improved slightly. But he was miserable to work with, unlike Greg, or even Brad eventually.

A week after Elliott started, Jack announced that he was taking Maddy to Europe. He had three days of meetings in London, and he wanted Maddy to go with him. She didn't think she should leave the show so soon after Elliott had started, and she was worried that people might think he had come to replace her. But Jack insisted that no one would believe that and he was adamant about her going. She agreed to, but at the last minute, she caught a bad cold, and had an ear infection, and couldn't fly with him. So he went without her, and he was annoyed about it. He decided to stay a week as a result, and visit friends in Hampshire over the weekend. And she was just as glad, it gave her a chance to see Lizzie, and even look at some apartments with her. They had fun doing it, but didn't find anything they liked. They had plenty of time. They didn't need a place for her till December. And Bill took them both out to dinner.

And on the way home, Maddy stopped to pick up a few things at the market for breakfast, and she was startled when she saw Jack's name on the front page of the tabloids. “Is Maddy Hunter's Hubby Still Mad About Her Baby?” was the line that caught her eye, and just below it “Sweet Revenge: Looks Like He Has a New Baby of His Own.” And with it, there was a picture of him with another woman. It was hard to know if they had doctored it, or if it was the genuine article. But there was a photograph of him leaving Annabel's, hand in hand with a very pretty, very young blond woman. And his expression was startled. Maddy s was even more so as she stared at it, and then put it on the counter with her other things. She read it carefully when they went home, and she admitted to Lizzie that she was upset about it.

“You know how those things are. He was probably in a big group or something, or maybe she's just a friend, or someone else's wife or date. They're pretty disgusting, and most of it is just lies anyway. No one ever believes them,” Lizzie said, comforting her mother, which was entirely possible, but Maddy felt as though she had been slapped as she stared at Jack and the woman standing next to him in the picture.

He hadn't called her in two days by then, and she decided to call him at the number he'd left her. It was Claridge's, and they reminded her that he was gone for the weekend, and she didn't have that number. She didn't say anything about it after that, but thoughts of it festered all through the weekend, and when he came home on Monday, she was seething.

“You're in a great mood,” he said jovially, when he came home on Monday night. “What's the matter, Mad? Does your ear still hurt?” He was in terrific spirits, and without saying a word, she took out the tabloid she had saved to show him. He glanced at it for a minute, without looking concerned, and then shrugged his shoulders as he grinned at her. “So? What's the big deal? I was in a group and we walked out together. That's not a crime, as far as I know.” He didn't seem to feel at all guilty, and made no attempt to apologize for it, which was either gutsy of him, or reassuring, and Maddy was not sure which as she looked at him.

“Were you out dancing with her?” Maddy never took her eyes from his.

“Sure. I danced with a lot of people that night. I didn't fuck her, if that's what you're asking.” He came right to the point, and he was starting to look annoyed at her for doubting him. “Is that what you were accusing me of, Mad?” He made it sound as though she were the one at fault, and not his fidelity that was in question.

“I was worried. She's pretty cute, and the story made it sound like you were out with her.”

“The stories on you make you look like a two-bit whore, but I don't believe them, do I?” She reeled from what he said like a punch in the stomach.

“That's not a nice thing to say, Jack,” she said softly.

“It's true, isn't it? Nobody has showed up with my illegitimate brats, have they? If they did, then you'd have a right to bitch. But as I see it, you don't have much to say now. And given the lies you've told me, and the things you've concealed from me, who would blame me if I cheated on you?” As usual, it was entirely her fault, and she deserved it. And even thinking about it, she knew he was partially right. She still hadn't told him she was moving Lizzie to Washington, or that she saw Bill from time to time, and talked to him daily. Jack had successfully managed to turn it around and make her feel guilty, rather than addressing the issue of whether or not he'd been unfaithful.

“I'm sorry. It just looked …” She sounded flustered, and felt awful for what she'd thought about him.

“Don't be so quick to point fingers, Mad. What's happening at work?” As he always did, he completely dismissed what she'd said. The only time he hung on to a subject was when it suited his purposes, and this didn't. He had used it to bludgeon her, and as usual, she stood corrected.

In fact, because of what she'd said to him, and what she had thought when she saw the picture of him, he accused her several times of flirting with her new co-anchor on the air. Elliott was young, single, and good-looking, and Jack started telling her that there were rumors about them, which severely upset her. She talked to Bill about it and he pointed out to her that Jack was just trying to divert her attention, but she still thought he believed it and felt terrible about it.