Chapter 28
The next week was wild, with press following her everywhere. She got a huge bonus from the show, and they upped her contract for the following year. But she got dozens of other offers too, for specials and mini-series, and movies made for TV, three feature films, and then the offer she had waited a lifetime for. Her agent called her at the studio, and she didn't know what to say to her. She wanted to do it more than anything, but she said she had to talk it over with Oliver. He had a right to a voice in the decision too. It was an important decision for her, and it meant a lot of things. Like begging her way out of her contract on the show that had brought her the Emmy. Or even breaking the contract, if she had to.
She looked nervous when he picked her up that night after work, and they were going to have a quiet evening at her place to discuss their wedding trip. He was pushing hard for Bora Bora. But before he even brought the brochures out, he knew that something had happened.
“Charlie, what's wrong?” He had good instincts for her now, and it was unusual for her to be so tense with him. But she didn't waste any time telling him. She'd been offered a Broadway play, a serious one, the kind she had always wanted to do, and it was an opportunity that might never come again. And they were going into rehearsal in December. It would mean going to New York for at least a year, more if it had a long run, maybe even at least two.
He sat looking at her, stunned, not believing his ears, or the look on her face. She was clearly torn. And he felt as though his heart would break. “What about the show?” What about me, he wanted to scream.
“I'd have to get out of my contract. My agent thinks that if we do it right, they might let me.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don't know. It always has been. For me, Broadway has always been the pinnacle, the ultimate, the epitome of serious acting.”
She was honest with him, she always had been. “I'm telling you exactly what I know. I haven't made my mind up yet. I told my agent I had to talk to you first. But … Ollie … I've always wanted to do a Broadway play, especially one like this.”
“What does that mean for us? And what am I supposed to do for two years? Sit out here? I can't leave the office here, I've only been here for a year, and this is an important spot for me, probably for a very long time, if not for good. My kids are all in schools. I can't walk out on them, or uproot them again. They've been through that twice already in a year. I can't do it, Charlie. I can't drop everything and go, no matter how much I'd love to see you do what you want.” He had to think of his career and his family too. But she looked agonized. She didn't want to give it up, even for him, and it showed.
“I could commute.” But he looked as though he'd been electrified as she said the words, and he leapt to his feet and started to pace the room in silence.
“Don't give me that, Charlie,” he finally said. “I've been through that once with a woman I loved. She didn't even start to try to commute. But even if you do, how long do you think it would last? Flying 'redeyes' from here to there, spending a day together once a week. It's ridiculous, it wouldn't work. We haven't even built our relationship yet, and you want to put it under that kind of strain? I'd rather call it quits now. It would be a lot less painful for both of us, than waiting to do it a year from now. Forget it. I don't want to hear about 'commute.'” He tried to calm down then, and think of her. “Look, Charlie, you have to do what's right for you.” He loved her enough to let her do that, no matter what it did to him. He knew he had no right to stand in her way, and if he did, they'd lose in the end anyway. He had learned that lesson the hard way too. “Think about it, do what you want.” He closed his eyes for a brief instant of crushing pain, but he had lived through pain before, and loss, and despair. He'd survive it again. And he was willing to, for her. “I think you probably should do it. You'd always regret it if you turned it down, and we'd pay the price for it anyway. Go for it, baby … go for the brass ring. You have a right to it. You're at the top of your career now. These opportunities will never come again. But don't expect me to commute … or believe we can have everything. We can't. Sometimes you have to make choices in life. Just make the right one for you. That's all I want for you.” There were tears in his eyes then, and he turned away so she wouldn't see them.
“Are you telling me it would be all over for us if I go?” She looked stunned, and heartbroken too.
“I am. But not because I want to force your hand, or make you stay here for me. I'm just telling you I've been through something like this once, and I can't do it again. It doesn't work. We'll lose in the end anyway. And I can't go through that again. I'd rather wish you well, and kiss you good-bye with tears in my heart. But better now, than in a year or two, maybe even with a kid. And I don't think my kids could go through the loss again in any case. And I have to think of them too. I love you, Charlie. I love you enough to let you do whatever you want to. I'm going home now. You think it out. And call me when it's over. I'll understand … honest, I will.” His eyes were damp and she was crying. She couldn't believe what he'd said, and yet she understood it. “Just don't let me read about it in the papers first.” And then without looking back, he left and drove home to his own place.
Sam was still up when he got there, and he was playing with the guinea pig in the kitchen, as Oliver walked in looking as though he'd been run over on the Santa Monica Freeway.
“Hi, Dad.” He looked up with a grin and then stopped, forgetting the guinea pig for once. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing. I had a terrible day at the office. I'm going to bed.” He ruffled Sam's hair and went straight up to his room, without saying another word. And Sam ran right up to his sister's bedroom, with a look of terror.
“Something's wrong with Dad!” he reported. “He just came home and he was green.”
“Maybe he's sick. Did you ask him what was wrong?”
“He just said he had a bad day at the office.”
“Maybe he did. Why don't you just relax and leave him alone? He'll probably be fine in the morning.”
But the next morning he wasn't. They all noticed it. He was quiet and pale, and he didn't say a word. He came down late, and he didn't touch his eggs, as Sam looked pointedly at his sister.
“You sick, Dad?” She tried to sound casual. And without meaning to, Sam hit the nail on the head. His father almost flinched at the boy's words.
“You have a fight with Charlie last night?”
“No, of course not.” But she hadn't called after he'd left, and he hadn't been able to sleep all night. The terror of losing her was more than he could bear. And at what price. He loved her too much to try to hang on to something he could never have, just as he had discovered he had never really had Sarah.
He left for the office that morning feeling like a zombie, and he almost shuddered when his secretary told him that afternoon that Charlotte was waiting in his outer office. Suddenly he was afraid to let her in, afraid to see her, afraid to hear what she was going to tell him. He felt trapped when the secretary let her in with a look of awe, and he didn't stand up because suddenly his legs didn't feel strong enough to hold him.