Danielle Steel: Journey

“Are you okay?” Greg looked at Maddy with concern, and she nodded at him.

“I knew he'd be upset, but I hope we don't get sued.” She looked worried as she said it. She was hoping that McCutchins wouldn't dare sue them, and risk exposing himself.

“Did you tell him about the call from Phyllis Armstrong?”

“I didn't have time,” she confessed. “I'll tell him when we get home.”

But Maddy went home alone that night. Jack had called his attorneys in to review the tape and discuss it with them, and it was one o'clock in the morning when he got home to Georgetown. Maddy was still awake, but he didn't say a word to her as he walked purposefully across their bedroom to his bathroom.

“How did it go?” she asked cautiously as he turned and glared at her.

“I can't believe you'd do that to me. It was such a fucking stupid thing to do.” He might as well have slapped her. But all Jack did was hit her with angry looks and words. It was obvious that he felt she had betrayed him.

“The First Lady called just after we went off the air, she was very excited about the broadcast, and thought it was a brave thing to do. I'm going on her commission this week,” she said apologetically. She wasn't sure how she was going to make this up to him, but she would have to try now. She didn't want him to hate her over issues that came up at work.

“I already made that decision for you,” he said, looking daggers at her as she mentioned the Commission on Violence Against Women.

“I made it for myself,” she said quietly. “I have a right to do that, Jack.”

“Are you lobbying for women's rights now too, as well as the abused? Do I have an editorial about that to look forward to? Why don't we just get you your own goddamn show, you can talk your head off all day long, and forget the news.”

“If the First Lady liked it, how bad could it be?”

“Pretty goddamn bad, if McCutchins's lawyers say it is.”

“Maybe it'll calm down in a few days,” she said hopefully as he walked slowly toward the bed, and stopped finally, to look down at her in thinly concealed fury. His anger hadn't dissipated or dimmed.

“If you ever do that again, I don't care if you are my wife, I'll fire you on the spot. Is that clear?” She nodded silently, feeling suddenly as though she had not done a good thing, but betrayed him. He had never in their nine years together been as angry at her, and she was wondering if he would ever forgive her for it, particularly if the network got sued.

“I thought it was an important thing to do.”

“I don't give a damn what you think. I don't pay you to think. I pay you to look good and read the news off a TelePrompTer. That's all I want from you.” And with that, he walked into his bathroom, and slammed the door behind him, as she burst into tears in their bedroom. It had been a stressful night for both of them. But in her heart of hearts, she still believed she'd done the right thing, whatever it cost her. And for the moment at least, it looked like it was going to cost her dearly.

When Jack came out of the bathroom, he got into bed without saying a word to her. He turned off the light, turned his back to her, and there was not a sound between them until she heard him snoring. But for the first time in years, she felt a ripple of terror inside her. His anger, however controlled, brought back old memories and was terrifying to her. And that night, for the first time in a long time, she had nightmares.

Jack said not a word to her over breakfast the next morning, and he left for work alone with his driver.

“How am I supposed to get to work?” she asked, looking dumbstruck, as he left her on the sidewalk.

He looked her right in the eye, slammed the door of the car, and spoke to her as he would have a stranger. “Take a cab.”

Chapter 4

JANETMCCUTCHINS'S FUNERAL WAS on Friday morning, and Jack sent Maddy a message via his secretary that he was planning to go with her. They left the office in his car, he in a dark suit and striped black tie, she in a black linen Chanel suit and dark glasses, as they were driven to St. John's Church, across Lafayette Park from the White House. The service was long and agonizing, it was a high mass, with the choir singing the Ave Maria, and the front pew was full of Janet's nieces, and nephews and children. Even the Senator cried, and every important politician in the city seemed to be there. Maddy found herself staring at the Senator in disbelief, watching him cry, and her heart went out to the children. And without thinking, at the end of the service, she slipped her hand into Jack's arm. He glanced at her, and then pulled away from her just as quickly. He was still furious with her, and had barely spoken to her since Tuesday night.

They joined the others on the steps as the casket was carried to the hearse, and the family got into limousines to go to the cemetery. The Hunters knew there was a luncheon at the McCutchinses' afterward, but neither of them wanted to go, as they weren't that close to them. And they rode back to the office in stony silence, side by side.

“How long is this going to go on, Jack?” she asked finally in the car, unable to stand it any longer.

“As long as I feel this way about you,” he said bluntly. “You let me down, Maddy. No, to be accurate, you screwed me.”

“It was bigger than that, Jack. A woman who had been abused killed herself, and was going to go down in history as a nutcase. It was about giving her, and her kids, a fair shake. And shining the spotlight on her abuser, even for a minute.”

“And fucking me over in the process. Nothing you did changed the fact that she'll go down in history as a nutcase. The facts are there. She was in a mental hospital and had electric shock treatments for six months. How normal do you think she was, Mad? And was she worth making me an easy target for a lawsuit?”

“I'm sorry, Jack. I had to do it.” She still believed she'd been right.

“You're as crazy as she was,” he said with a look of disgust, glancing out the window. It was a nasty thing to say, and his tone stung, just as it had for the past three days.

“Can we call a truce for the weekend?” It was going to be grim in Virginia if he was going to continue to do this, and she was thinking of not going with him.

“I don't think so,” he said coldly. “Besides, I have things to do here. I have some meetings at the Pentagon. You can do whatever you want. I won't have time to spend with you.”

“This is ridiculous, Jack. That was business. This is our life.”

“The two stand pretty well intertwined in our case. You should have thought of that, before you shot off your mouth.”

“Fine. Punish me then. But this is getting childish.”

“If McCutchins sues me, believe me, the amount won't be ‘childish.’”

“I'm not so sure he's going to do that, particularly with the First Lady applauding the broadcast. Besides, he can't defend himself. If there is an investigation, the coroner's report must show her bruises.”

“He may not be as impressed with the First Lady as you are.”

“Why don't you just give it a rest for a while, Jack? I can't unring the bell, and I wouldn't anyway. So why don't we just try to put it behind us?”

But as she said it, he turned to her with narrowed eyes, and the look in them was icy. “Maybe you'd like to refresh your memory a little bit, Joan of Arc, and recall that before you took up the crusades for the underdog, you were no one and nothing when I found you. You were nothing, Mad. Zero. You were a hick from nowhere going straight to a lifetime of beer cans and abuse in a trailer park. Whatever the hell it is you think you are now, keep in mind that I made you. And you owe me. I'm sick of this idealistic bullshit and a lot of whining and moaning about a fat, unattractive piece of shit like Janet McCutchins. She wasn't worth putting my ass on the line for, or yours, or the network's.”