Journey (25 page)

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

A
S
S
EPTEMBER 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.”