“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.