Commitments (2 page)

-of their First Amendment rights., Raising her brows, Sabrina gave a thoughtful nod of approval. She was quiet for a short time as she continued to rock the baby. Then she asked, ' you know that I'm a writer?' ' know that you come from a family of writers.' Her lips twitched. '.' Derek wondered at the momentary am, usement he saw in her eyes. It softened her features and became 15 her nicely. ' you into Westerns, like your dad? I he teased. She shook her head. '

sci-fi, like mom, nor horror, like J.B. I'm the black sheep of the family. My field is nonfiction. I've written mostly for magazines, but the one thing I'm most proud of never made it into print.' ' was thatv Derek asked. She didn't answer at first, but seemed to be searching his eyes - much as she'd done when he first arrived. He wasn't sure if she could -see the fascination he felt; but as he watched, he saw a certain calmness take her. ' was the story of the wife of a prominent businessman who was convicted of the rape and murder of his mistress. I was interested in exploring the wife's feelings, but when it came time to submit the story to a publisher, I couldn't get myself to do it. The poor woman had suffered enough. Her name and that of her Page 4

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

children had been dragged through the mud. The last thing they needed was additional exposure, when they were trying to keep a low enough profile to rebuild their lives.' ''t you have vindicated her?' '

couldn't change the fact that she'd been married to a sick man, any more than I could change the fact that her children were flesh of his flesh."

"You could have established them as innocent victims.' ' could have."

"And others would have found the story interesting.' ' would the exploitation have been worth it? They'd moved to a new home in a new state. In the name of human interest, I'd have branded them all over again.' Tucking his hands in the pockets of his slacks, 16 rderek dropped his gaze to the large marble tiles. They ' variegated in shades of dark green, an urban version of a mossy forest floor. Atop their shiny finish, Sabrina's feet looked slender and graceful. With the slightest shift of his own foot, the hard leather soles of his loafers would bruise her. The analogy wasn't lost on him. He felt rough,

@,`-*Imost uncouth beside Sabrina. He didn't feel that way with others, but others didn't r-()nvey the kind of di gnified fragility she did. Strength and all, she was fragile. She pricked his conscience. Hesitantly raising his eyes, he asked, ' you feel that I'm trying to exploit you?' ' are you here?' she countered, curious rather than impertinent. ''d have thought that the face before the camera did little of the groundwork.' ' incapable of doing the groundwork?' '. Too busy.' He shook his head. ' stories are mine. I do -them because they interest me. I have people doing other kinds of legwork, but I like to interview the principals myself.' ' won't be one of your principals.' ''m not trying to exploit you.' ''s a fine line "I'm not. I ' intentions may be honorable, but the fact is that any story you do will be broadcast from coast to coast. That won't do much for the low profile we try to keep.' ' may do some good for others in your position.' She gave a sad laugh. ' about now, charity isn't high on my list of priorities. I have my hands more than full trying to cope with ... cope with ...'Though her voice trailed off, her eyes continued to speak. 1 17 And Derek, who'd done his homework well, heard every word. She was trying to cope with endless days of constant child care, with one useless doctor's appointment after another, with the total disruption of what would, given her husband's standing, have been a socially active life. And through it all were worry and unsureness, questions without answers, a future in doubt. He steeled himself to press his bid, but it was hard, because her eyes held that pleading again. Then a beeping sound broke into his concentration. His watch. He'd set it to remind himself of a later appointment. He stabbed at the button in annoyance, asking himself why he'd set the alarm, knowing that it was his standard practice, wondering if it was crude. '/ he muttered and took a minute to get over his confusion. Then he asked, '

you still write?' Her smile was sad this time, and she pressed a soft kiss to the baby's head before she spoke. ' don't have the time, much less the psychic energy.' ' it would be an outlet.', ' that what your work is for you?' ''s my vocation.' ' is it an outlet, too?, she asked. ' creative energy, yes.' He lowered his head and thought for a minute. ' nervous energy too, I suppose.' Tilhat makes you nervous?' He knew that he should be turning the questions around. He was the interviewer, and there was the business of maintaining a professional facade. But the facade seemed suddenly artificial, and Sabrina's clear gaze demanded better. ' life/ he answered. ' I'm going. What I want.' 18 y should those things make you nervous?' se I'm not always sure where I'll end up and ecau er that'll be where I want to be.' ere do you want to be?' don't know!' he said. Then, hearing his own

'd" ft6stration, ran a handful of fingers through his dark and forced a dry chuckle. You re nearing the fu ar. ' you seem so ... Page 5

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

confident. Given your position, I'd have thought that you'd be on top of the world.' She seemed genuinely interested, not to mention momentarily distracted from her own woes - which __,'was why, when she asked if he was married, he answered. '. No time.' He gave a crooked n.

"Like your gri writing. f, l ''s a difference. I don't have a choice.' '/ he said gently but pointedly, ' what I wanted to explore.' She closed her eyes briefly, then sighed, then shifted the child again. It occurred to Derek that the baby had to be heavy. ' I hold him?'he asked, offering his arms. Sabrina seemed genuinely surprised. He wondered if no one else offered to help her with the work. He couldn't believe that she shouldered it all herself, couldn't believe that her husband didn't take his turn. Then again ... Very carefully, she transferred the child to his arms, and he knew a moment's panic.

"Tell me what to do/ he whispered with an urgency that brought a soft smile to her face. ''m not much good with kids.' But as the baby collapsed against him, his long arms very naturally found a hold. 19

"Nicky doesn't demand much/ she said. ' warm body. A heartbeat.' A warm body. A heartbeat. Raising the child higher against his chest and securing him comfortably, Derek lowered his cheek to the soft waves and took in a long, deep, slightly uneven breath. A warm body. A heartbeat. Why did it feel so good to hold the child? Was it his baby-sweet smell, or that light, lingering one of his mother? Was it the sheer specialness of him? The total helplessness? Or was it a need in Derek for something warm and alive and personal? If Nicky was aware of the change of hands, he didn't make a peep. Derek told himself that he had to be doing something right. He knew that something felt right. Right, and deep, and natural. When he turned his head back to Sabrina, he found her watching him intently. He couldn't speak, because that would have been to interrupt what she was saying and he wanted to hear. Thank you for accepting him. Most people don't, and it's going to get worse. But I love him dearly. And I'm trying to do what's right. Dear God, I'm trying. So eloquent without a single word. He nearly melted beneath the softness of her touch. With a hard swallow that was clearly visible, she turned her face to the park. He wondered what she was thinkin& whether she wished she were a bird and could fly freely. She raised one hand absently to massage her shoulder. Then, with the abruptness of sudden remembrance, she glanced down at her watch. ''d better leave/ she murmured as she reached for the child. ' husband is due home soon." Derek held the baby a minute longer, peering down at his vacant expression, feeling a great sadness. When he transferred the limp bundle back to its mother, he 20 @.'Jit the back of his hand linger on the child's soft, silky "hair. "He's very special/ he said. She nodded. Derek met her gaze. He wanted to ask whether she'd .'Ahink about doing the story, but he knew better. She had her mind made up. He could cajole and badger and Jqbby with every bit of the skill he'd honed over the years, but he doubted she'd yield. -And, in a sense, he was glad. He almost felt as though Sabrina and her baby were his secret. He didn't want them spoiled. He wanted to remember them always as they'd been in heir rooftop garden. Quiet. Gentle. Very social, both @-6f them. Tucking the memories in a special spot in his mind, saw himself to the door. 21

Chapter 1.

i in ersville wasn't quite what she'd expected. R s g e woods of Berkshire County, the main buildas attractive in an old New England kind of way. e fa de was three stories' worth of aged brick; the ast s te roof was broken by dormers and turrets. Had ere been ivy climbing the walls, it might have been en for a rural college. :'But there was no ivy, and the effect was further ed by the guard towers that stood Page 6

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

prominently at i er side. ontrolling her apprehension with an act of will, brina drew her cashmere topcoat higher on her neck crunching on the snow-crusted walk, adv ced toward the steps. Once up and through a pair of ocuous-looking oak doors, she found herself ronted by a trio of prison personnel who looked any ing but innocuous in their starched khaki unie, forms and stem expressions. The three were safely _Aji@,@, ensconced in a cubicle behind layers of bullet-proof glass. Approaching the cubicle, she leaned toward its mouthpiece. Again in a conscious act, she projected a voice that sounded steady. ' name is Sabrina Stone. I'm here to see Derek Mcgill.' The guard nearest the speaker studied her. He wasn't a young man, and there was, no hint of a leer in his comprehensive gaze. He studied her coolly and clinically, then asked at last in an authoritative, emotionless voice, ' he expecting you?' '.' The guard to his right began to flip through the pages of a large loose-leaf notebook. He said something to the first guard, who repeated into the mouthpiece, ' Stone?' '.' '

you a relative?' She shook her head. '?' '.' '

associate? Media?' ' a friend, I she said. The second guard reached the page he sought. Sabrina watched him draw a slow finger down its length, pause once, then again before going on, then speak to the first guard, who announced, ''re not on his visitors list.' She hadn't known of a visitors list. In fact she knew nothing whatsoever of prison protocol save what the visiting hours were - and that-she learned through the call she'd made from a pay phone earlier that day. Visiting Derek had been on impulse. She'd thought about him often in the eighteen months since held appeared on her terrace, but she hadn't envisioned having the opportunity, much less the guts, to seek him out - until she left New York the day before. ' that mean I can't see him?' she asked, nervously fingering the leather strap of her shoulder bag. '

means we have to check.' The guard tossed his chin toward a long wooden bench behind and to Sabrina's right. ' down. We'll let you know." Sabrina envisioned a review of her character that would take hours. '

I have ... time is limited. I have to be back in New York tonight.' The guard let the firm set of his mouth speak for directed another, more pointed glance at the which was the last thing of creating a stir, wanted to do, she had no choice but to obey. she sat and watched and waited, all the while trying t e h butterflies in her stomach. Sitting was uncomfortable. The bench was hard, and .::, .@*,tween the drive from New York to Vermont the day d .. Wore, and Vermont to Massachusetts today, she'd , sitting far more than usual. Her bottom ached. Watching was discouraging. The building lost its once she'd passed through its doors, and the steady scrutiny of the guards was unnerving. Several #her visitors straggled in after her, each was ques

"U"T" ..,"',ed briefly, then allowed to pass through each of @%A-iee sets of bars. She forced the image of the bars her mind and tried to do the same for the visitors. @,-,There was a similarity to them, a coarse, downtrodden which said something about the men they visited k

@,"'i.,7-Dere's current companions - which gave her a chill. -1@"."j So she dropped her eyes to her lap and focused on , e suede skirt she'd worn for warmth, on the hand-' leather of her hip-hugging belt and the gentle -",I,*,-ds of the oversized sweater it cinched. She studied pr neatly filed nails and her Floientined wedding band These the stylish gold watch that circled her wrist. s were her link to another, more genteel world, ",and looking at them, she could almost block out her present suff oundings. The waiting was the worst. if sitting was uncomfortable and watching discouraging, waiting was a torjj;,%ment. Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes - each minute meant time to think, and thinking about ,. what she was doing made her uneasy. Impulsive Al'y", decisions were just fine as long as they could be carried out on the wave of the impulse. Having to wait, having to Page 7

Barbara Delinsky - Commitments

think diluted the impulsiveness and allowed the slow insurgence of reason. She should have driven straight back to New York. Her son would be needing her. Her husband would be furious that she'd left Nicky at all. And if Nicholas knew that she'd stopped to see Derek, his fury would know no bounds. She had so many doubts. About this. About everything. It seemed that lately doubts were all she had. '

Stonev Her head jerked up, eyes flying to the guard box. Seconds later, she was on her feet, being gestured toward the first of the bars to the left of the cubicle. The lock clicked loudly. As she'd seen the others do before her, she pushed, letting herself into the first of two caged areas. The door closed and locked behind her as she focused on a flurry of instructions from the guard. Through a window at that side of the guard box, her shoulder bag was searched. She removed her topcoat; it, too, was searched. A second lock clicked loudly. At the waggle of the guard's finger, she entered the second compartment. This time she was asked to step into a side room, where she was thoroughly frisked. Once through the third and final set of bars, she was escorted down a corridor, up a flight of stairs, down another corridor. Institutional was the most generous word she could find to describe her surroundings. The halls were painted the same bland gray-green that she'd seen in far too many hospitals of late. The look was antiseptic, and the smell would have been, too, had not the odor of dubious cafeteria cooking wafted through the halls. And then there were the sounds - the clanging of bars, bail*ng of steel, distant shouts, not-so-distant The overall effect was one of an echo chamber - @,.@@ttling and endless. passing through another barred door, she was ,@@"Yered into the visiting room. It was a large room, bright and very hot. Grateful that she'd already her coat, she searched the faces in the room. were half a dozen men in standard-issue denims their guests, all seated in straight-backed wooden that were scattered randomly around the room. li. ow s were scattered less randomly, so that no was more than nine or ten feet from reach.