Authors: Barbara Delinsky
Michael chuckled. “That’s because you tune out and you don’t hear the fine differences.” He paused and grew more hesitant. “Dani, what if the jury finds Blake guilty? How will you feel?”
“I’ve thought about that a lot. I’ll be sorry, I guess. I’d hate to see Blake go to prison. But it won’t make any difference in my own plans. My job is to see him through the trial, to help him present the best image possible. If it doesn’t work, well, it’s out of my hands.”
“I was wondering.”
“Worrying, you mean. Don’t, Michael. Is this or is this not the voice of a woman of conviction?”
“It certainly is, but that woman also has a hell of a lot of compassion.”
“Which is why I’m praying that Blake will be acquitted. For
his
sake, not mine. My own course is set.”
“Does he know what it is?”
“He has to have guessed. We don’t talk about what’s going to be after the trial, but he knows how I feel about you and the baby, and he’s not dumb.”
“Does he know that we talk?”
“The phone bill came in last week.”
“Y’ know, I’ve asked you more than once to call collect.”
“It’s not a matter of money, and I don’t want to call collect. I’m beyond caring if Blake knows we talk, and he hasn’t said a word. Maybe he knows I’d be off the walls if I didn’t have you to talk with.”
“I’m always here.”
“Except on Wednesdays.”
“Except on Wednesdays. Are you all set for next week?”
“You bet, and I can’t wait. It’s been so long.…Michael?”
“What, love?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For letting me spout off like that.”
“Do you feel better?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Then it was worth every minute.”
Early the following Wednesday Danica flew to Boston. She had made her doctor’s appointment for midmorning so that she and Michael would have that much longer together. Though she had expected to take a cab to the restaurant Michael had named, she was thrilled to walk out of the medical building and find the Blazer parked in front.
Quickening her step, she climbed through the door Michael leaned to open, and slid onto the front seat and into his arms. He held her tightly for several moments, neither of them able to speak through the flood of emotions. Only when the driver of a slightly battered, if vintage, Mustang passed, honked and offered a thumb up did Michael set her back.
“Smart aleck kid,” he murmured, but his eyes quickly returned to Danica’s features. His fingers followed, then his lips, and by the time he drew back again she was floating.
“Ahhh, Michael, that felt so good.”
“You can open your eyes now.”
“But will you be here?” she murmured, cinching her arms around his neck. “I can feel you, but I’m still afraid it’s a dream.”
“No dream, love. Open up.”
She raised her lids slowly, and to her chagrin her eyes were filled with tears. Burying her face against his neck, she let him soothe her until she was more composed.
“Nothing’s wrong, is it?” he asked in concern.
She shook her head. “I’m just so happy to see you.”
He let out a breath. “Everything went well with the doctor then?”
“Wonderfully. I’m back to my normal weight.”
“Back to?”
“I lost a few pounds at the beginning when I couldn’t eat.”
“But you can now?”
“Oh, yes. And I’m not anemic or anything. I have a prescription for vitamins. He offered to give me something for the nausea, but I really don’t want to take a thing. I don’t trust drugs. Ten years down the road there’s apt to be some horrible revelation that they cause mental block or something.”
Michael chuckled. “I’m as glad you’re not taking them…as long as you’re not too sick.”
“Only when I’m hungry, and I’m hungry now. Let’s go get some lunch, uh, brunch, before I barf all over your car. I didn’t have much more than a piece of toast before I left Washington. I was too excited to eat.”
Tucking her close beside him, Michael headed off. When they were seated in the restaurant—he had changed his mind and opted for simple American food rather than Indonesian in deference to the sensitivity of Danica’s stomach—he wrapped her arm through his.
“I’ve eaten here once before, but the company wasn’t half as nice.”
“Was she pretty?”
“Actually, there were three of them.”
“Three
women
?”
“Three professors. One was fat and bald, the second was thin and bald, and the third was so myopic that he kept his face close to his plate the whole time and didn’t say a word.”
“Poor man.”
“Don’t waste your sympathy. I understand he comes to life in the classroom. His course is one of the most popular at the school.” Michael glanced around at the other patrons of the restaurant, then reached down and tugged Danica’s chair even closer.
“We’re taking chances sitting like this,” she teased, leaning into him.
“Nah. No one will recognize either of us. With that wedding band of yours, they’ll assume we’re a happily married couple. Hell, Blake’s borrowing my kid; the least he can do is to loan me his ring for a little while.” His eyes were glued to her smiling face. “Cilla was right. You do look wonderful. Still a little tired, maybe, but you have good color.”
“You look wonderful, too, Michael. Tell me what you’ve been doing.”
First he snagged a waitress to bring bread sticks for Danica. While she was munching, he explained that he had finally begun to organize the notes they had made the summer before. “There’s still a load of research to be done, and I want to interview several other men who’ve been salvaging. They’re all on the northeast coast, though, so it won’t be a hassle. If I can get that out of the way before spring, everything else can be done at home.”
She knew he was thinking of when she would be joining him, and she squeezed his arm in silent appreciation. “Does your editor like the idea?”
“Very much. The book won’t be terribly philosophical, but it’ll be a good read. Hey, have the publishers set a date for
your
book?”
She nodded and there was a wry twist to her lips. “January.”
“That soon? I thought they were talking of March or April.”
“They were. They’ve pushed it up. They feel that the publicity surrounding the trial in December will familiarize the public with my name. They want to take advantage of that.”
“Just what you didn’t want.”
“Mmmm. They may have a point in terms of sales, but I was a little disappointed. Especially for James. This is his book. I hate to have it tainted—”
“‘Tainted’ is
not
the case, Dani. There’s nothing ‘tainted’ about you. You’ll shine through that trial like the special lady you are. People will admire you. Wait and see.
Boston
won’t be the only magazine after you.”
She rolled her eyes. “Heaven help me then. I don’t want to see
any
of them. When that trial’s over, I’m leaving Washington, leaving Boston and taking up permanent residence in Maine. When I think of being with you every day for the rest of our lives, I realize that I’m very, very lucky.” She stopped talking and a pensive expression crossed her face.
“What?”
“Reggie came to see me yesterday.”
“Did she!” Though Michael had never met Reggie Nichols, he felt that he knew her, what with all Danica had told him. “How’s she doing?”
“Not great. It’s amazing, the twists and turns life can take. At one point I thought my future hinged on being the best female tennis player in the world. When I quit, I was relieved but I also felt that I’d lost my claim to immortality. Now I look at Reggie. She’s been at the top, she’s had it all, and she’s miserable. She’s decided to retire when the current tour ends next March, and she’s going through a real career crisis.”
“Still doesn’t know what to do?”
“She says she’ll probably coach, but she’s not looking forward to it. When you’ve been in the limelight as long as she has, it’s hard to step out. It’d be one thing if she had a family, a man or children to fulfill her, but she doesn’t.”
“Many women today don’t need that.”
“I know. But I don’t think Reggie’s one of them. I know I’m not.” She leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. “That’s why I’m so lucky. I look at Reggie and then at myself and I realize that I’d rather have my life any day. My future looks so bright…well, after December at least.”
They talked then about what was happening in Washington, and once their food had arrived, they talked between bites about all the other little things they hadn’t spoken of on the phone. Michael suggested several good books she should read. Danica suggested a good movie he should see.
“When did you see it?” he asked.
“Blake took me last week.”
“He’s taking you out now?”
“Not often, and only in desperation. He doesn’t know what to do with himself any more than I do.”
“Does he worry about bumping into people?”
“He did at first, I think. But depression does wonders. When things get so that you know you’ll go mad if you don’t get out, the risk of seeing people becomes secondary.” She looked down at her sweater and frowned. “Have I spilled something?”
“No. Why?”
“You keep looking at my breasts.”
He colored. “I want to see if they’re really getting bigger.”
She laughed. “Michael Buchanan!”
“Don’t ‘Michael Buchanan’ me!” He put his mouth to her ear. “If it’s my baby that’s doing it, I want to see.”
She reached for the hem of the sweater. “If you’d like, I can take this off.”
He stopped her hand with his, then moved lower to feel her belly. “I can’t wait until this grows. I dream of you lying in the living room several months from now, wearing nothing but the firelight. It’ll cast a beautiful glow over your skin. I’ll warm my hands on your big, fat, beautiful belly.”
She sucked in a breath, then moaned softly. “I knew this was going to be hard.”
“It sure is.” Before she realized what he was doing, he slid her hand to his fly and was pressing it close. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply; his exhalation was a throaty groan.
“Michael!” she whispered, looking furtively around. “We’re in a restaurant!”
“I’d do it anywhere, I’m that horny.”
“You are a sex fiend.”
He opened one eye. “But it is good with us, isn’t it?”
She was grinning. “It is.”
When he felt her fingers cup him, he threw back her barb. “Danica! We’re in a restaurant!”
“Mmmm…”
Michael had trouble teaching his class that afternoon, not so much because of his state of physical frustration as that of mental. He kept thinking about Danica returning to Washington, languishing in the house with nothing to do, and he realized that he had been very thick. He couldn’t drive back to Maine fast enough to get to work.
The next night, when Danica called, he was full of mystery. “I’m sending something down for you.”
“Something? What is it?”
“You’ll see. Can you be at the Lincoln Memorial at noon tomorrow?”
“Will you be there?” she asked excitedly.
“Not me. A messenger.”
“What kind of messenger?”
“One bearing my surprise.”
“
What
surprise?”
“You’ll see then. Can you be there?”
“Of course I can, but the suspense may kill me. Can’t you even give me a hint?”
“Nope.”
“How will I know who your messenger is?”
“You’ll know.”
“Michael…” she warned, but he wasn’t about to be coaxed.
“Indulge me. Noon tomorrow. The Lincoln Memorial.”
Danica was there early. She looked all around, but the faces she saw were both unfamiliar and in self-contained groups focused on the large statue of a seated Lincoln. Taking their lead, she studied the statue. Its gentleness, the look of wisdom about it, had always appealed to her. Michael knew that of all the memorials in Washington this was her favorite. She sensed he had purposely chosen it as a rendezvous point.
Tucking her hands in the pockets of her coat, she surveyed the sightseers again, then slowly turned in time to see a cab pull up to the nearby curb. She glanced at her watch. It was still five minutes before the hour. She was about to turn back to the statue when a small, silver-haired woman emerged from the cab. After only a moment’s pause, she started excitedly down the steps.
“Gena!” she called, then waved when the other woman looked up and grinned. Running the rest of the way, Danica hugged her soundly. “It is
so good
to see you!”
Gena was beaming when Danica finally held her back. “I’ll have you know that this is the first time I’ve left Maine in three years.”
“And you came just to deliver Michael’s surprise?”
Nodding, Gena gestured back toward the cab. “It’s inside. Come on. We’ll find somewhere to eat and then we can talk.”
Danica followed her back into the cab, then at Gena’s suggestion gave the cabbie the name of a restaurant where she knew they would be able to sit quietly and visit. Only when she settled back on the seat did Gena pass her the parcel Michael had sent. It was a large, thickly stuffed mailing envelope with Danica’s name written in his bold script on the front.
“What’s
in
here?”
“Papers and notes and assignments.”
“Assignments?”
“Michael felt you could use something to help pass the time. The papers and notes are some of those the two of you made last summer. The assignments are suggestions of things you can research at the National Archives. He reasoned that since you were here, you could help him out. He also said something about the Archives being a very peaceful, inspiring place to work.”
Danica laughed in delight and hugged the bundle to her chest. “I’ve been complaining about how bored I am. It’ll be wonderful to have something to do!”
Gena gently touched her cheek. “That may be part of why he sent it, but I’m sure that you’ll be helping him, too. The work needs to be done and he’s been so distracted.”
“I know. This all must be nearly as hard on him as it is on me.”