Danielle Steel - Journey

“I don't know how you do it, Maddy. If I'd been at that hospital for the last twenty-seven hours, they'd be carrying me out on a stretcher. You've done a great job there.” Though not according to her husband. But she was touched by the compliment, and knew she'd earned it.

“I'm just used to it, I guess. I've been doing this for a long time.” It made them feel more like colleagues, and she liked him a little better. At least for once he'd been decent to her.

“How do you think the President really is?” Elliott asked her in an undertone.

“I think they're probably telling us the truth on this one,” she answered. And somehow, with his help, she got through the five o'clock broadcast and the seven-thirty and she was back at the hospital at eight-fifteen, just as Jack told her to do. He had stopped in to see her between the two shows, looking fresh and rested, and gave her a whole new set of orders, criticisms, and directions. He didn't even ask if she was tired. He didn't care if she was. This was a crisis and she had to deliver. But she never failed him. And although he didn't acknowledge it, everyone else did. She was one of a few veterans of the first night when she got back to the hospital. Most of the other networks had replaced their people with fresh teams, and she had a new cameraman and a new soundman. And miraculously someone felt sorry for her and brought her a gurney in the lobby, so she could get some sleep between press releases. And when she told Bill about it on the phone, he urged her to use it.

“You'll get sick if you don't get some sleep,” he said sensibly. “Have you had dinner?”

“I ate between broadcasts, in my office.”

“Something nourishing, I hope.” She grinned at what he said. He had a lot to learn about her business.

“Health food actually. Pizza and doughnuts. Standard fare for reporters. I'd have withdrawal if I didn't eat that. I only eat real food at dinner parties.”

“Do you want me to bring you something?” he offered, sounding hopeful, but she was too tired to see him.

“I think I'm going to hit my gurney and try to sleep for a couple of hours. But thanks anyway. I'll call you in the morning, unless something major happens here.” But nothing did. It was a peaceful night, and she went home to shower and change in the morning.

As it turned out, she was at the hospital for five days, and on the last day, she finally saw Phyllis for a few minutes, though not in an interview. The First Lady had sent for her, and they chatted in the hallway outside the President's room, standing among the Secret Service. The President was being guarded closely. Although his assailant was in custody, they weren't taking any chances. And Maddy could imagine they felt very guilty that they hadn't stopped the bullet.

“How are you holding up?” Maddy asked the First Lady with obvious concern. She looked a hundred years old, and was wearing a hospital gown over a pair of slacks and a sweater. But she smiled at Maddy s question.

“Better than you probably. They're taking wonderful care of us. Poor Jim is feeling pretty rotten, but he's much better. This is a little rough at our age.”

“I'm so sorry it happened,” Maddy said sympathetically. “I've been worried about you all week. Everyone is taking care of him, but I wasn't sure how you were faring.”

“It's quite a shock, to say the least. But we're muddling through. I hope you can all go home soon.”

“I'm going home tonight actually.” The press secretary had announced that the President was no longer in critical condition. And everyone in the lobby cheered at the news. Most of them had been there for days, and they were so relieved some of them cried when they heard it. By then, only Maddy had been there since the beginning. And they all admired her for it.

When she got home that night, Jack was there, watching rival stations. He glanced up at her, and never got up off the couch to greet her. He wasn't even grateful for what she'd given him for the past five days. Her life, her soul, her spirit. And he didn't tell her that their ratings were the highest of any network, but she had heard it from the producer. She had even managed to do a story on the dozens of people who had to be moved to other hospitals, to clear an entire floor for the President, his nursing staff, and the Secret Service. And everyone had been cheerful and pleasant about being moved. They were happy to do what they could for him, and they'd been told that their hospital stays elsewhere would be paid for by the White House. None of them were critically ill. They were all convalescing, so it had been all right to move them.

“You look like shit, Mad” was all Jack said to her, and it was true. She looked exhausted, but she had still managed to look presentable on the air when she had to. But her face was drawn and pale, and there were deep circles under her eyes.

“Why are you so mad at me all the time?” She looked puzzled. Admittedly she had done some things to upset him in the past few months. Everything from her editorials, to her relationship with Lizzie, to her talks with Bill. But her real crime was that she was less in his control now, and he hated her for it. Dr. Flowers had warned her about that. She had said that he wouldn't take kindly to it, and she'd been right. It was very threatening to him. But as the thought that he hated her crossed Maddy's mind, she was suddenly reminded of what Janet McCutchins had said to her four months before, that her husband hated her, and Maddy had refused to believe it. But she believed it of Jack now. He certainly acted like it.

“I have reason to be mad at you,” he said coldly. “You've betrayed me every way you could in the last few months, Mad. You're just lucky I haven't fired you yet.” The yet was supposed to terrify her, and make her feel that he would at any moment. And he might. But what she really felt was anxious. It was so hard standing up to him, and taking the consequences for it. But lately, she felt she had to. Finding Lizzie, and knowing Bill, had somehow changed her. She felt as though she had found herself, as well as her daughter. And it was obvious that Jack didn't like it. That night when they went to bed, he didn't even talk to her, and he was icy with her the next morning.

Jack was harder than ever on her these days, and he alternated constant criticism with the cold shoulder. He had very little pleasant to say to her, and she didn't care as much. She got her comfort from Bill whenever they talked. And one night when Jack was out, she went to Bill's house again for dinner. He made steak for her this time, because he thought she was still working too hard and needed some real nourishment. But the best nourishment he gave her was the nurturing he lavished on her, and the obvious affection he showered on her.

They talked about the President for a while. He had been in the hospital for two weeks by then, and he was going home in a few days. Maddy and a few others of the elite group had been allowed to interview him briefly, and he looked thinner and very worn. But he was in excellent spirits, and he thanked everyone for their devotion and their kindness. And she had interviewed Phyllis too, who was equally gracious.

It had been an extraordinary two weeks, and Maddy was pleased with the coverage they'd given their viewers, even if Jack wasn't. She had even won the respect of her co-anchor, Elliott Noble. He thought she was an extraordinary reporter, and so did everyone else at the network.

Bill looked at her with a smile full of tenderness and admiration as they sat in his kitchen after dinner. “So what are you going to do now to keep yourself amused?” It wasn't every day the President got shot, and after that, everything else she covered would seem anticlimactic.