Danielle Steel: Journey

“I suppose it was,” he said coolly “and I'm sorry for Paul and her kids. This is going to be rough for all of them. I just hope the media don't have a heyday with it.”

“I hope some hotshot young reporter does an investigative piece on it, and exposes what he was doing to her. Not just for her sake, but all the other women who are still alive and in the same position.”

“It's hard to understand why she didn't leave if it was that bad. She could have left. She didn't have to kill herself.”

“Maybe she thought she did,” Maddy said sympathetically, but Jack was unmoved by it.

“You got out, Maddy. She could have too!” he said firmly.

“It took me eight years to do it, and you helped me. Not everyone is that lucky. And I just got out by the grace of God and the skin of my teeth. Maybe in another year, he might have killed me.”

“You wouldn't have let that happen.” Jack sounded certain, but Maddy was less so.

“I let it happen for a hell of a long time until you came along. And my mother let it happen until my dad died. And I swear she missed it, and him until she died. Relationships like that are a lot sicker than people realize, for both the abused and the abuser.”

“That's an interesting perspective,” he said, looking skeptical again. “I think some people just ask for it, or expect it, or let it happen, because they're too weak to do anything else.”

“You don't know anything about it, Jack,” she said in a tense voice as she walked out of the kitchen, and went upstairs to get her bag and a jacket. She came down carrying a well-cut dark navy blazer, and she had put on small diamond earrings. She was always beautifully groomed and dressed, at home or at work, she never knew who she'd run into, and people recognized her everywhere she went.

They rode to work together that morning in silence. She was annoyed at some of the things Jack had said, and she didn't want to get in an argument with him about it. But Greg was waiting for her at work, he had seen the story, and he looked anguished.

“I'm sorry, Maddy, you must feel like shit. I know you wanted to help her. Maybe you couldn't have anyway.” He tried to reassure her, but she turned and snapped at him as soon as he spoke.

“Why? Because she was psychotic, like all other abused women, and she wanted to slit her wrists? Is that what you think?”

“All I meant was that she may have been too scared to get out anyway, like someone shell-shocked in a war zone.” Then he couldn't help adding, “Why do you think she did it? Just because he was abusing her, or do you think she was psychotic?” Maddy looked infuriated by the question.

“That's what Jack thinks, that's what most people think, that women in these situations are basically crazy anyway, regardless of what their husbands are doing to them. No one can understand why women don't leave. Well, some of them just can't … they just can't …,” she said, as she broke into sobs and Greg put his arms around her.

“I know, baby, I know…. I'm sorry … maybe you just couldn't save this one.” He spoke in soothing tones and she was grateful for his arms around her.

“I wanted … to … help … her.” She was wracked by sobs as she thought of the pain Janet must have been in to make her do it, and the agony her children must be in now, having lost their mother.

“How are we going to cover it?” Greg asked when she regained her composure.

“I'd like to do an editorial about abused women,” she said thoughtfully, as Greg handed her a cup of coffee.

“That's been cut out of our format. Remember?”

“I'm going to tell Jack I want to do one anyway,” she said firmly, and Greg shook his head. “I wish I could blow that bastard McCutchins right out of the water.”

“I wouldn't do that if I were you. And Jack won't let you do an editorial. I don't care if you do sleep with him every night, we got the word from the top. No editorials, no social or political commentaries, straight news only. We tell it like it happened, with no add-ons from us.”

“What's he going to do? Fire me? Besides, this is straight news. A senator's wife committed suicide, after being abused by her husband.”

“Jack still won't let you say that, or do an editorial on it, if I know him, unless you take over the station at gunpoint. And I honestly don't think he'd like that, Maddy”

“No kidding. But I'm going to do it anyway. We're live, for chrissake, they can't knock me off the air, without creating a riot or a scandal. So we do one more editorial, and then apologize for it afterward. If he gets pissed, I can live with that.”

“You're a brave woman,” Greg said with the broad ivory smile that dazzled the women he went out with. He was one of the most sought-after bachelors in Washington, and with good reason. He was smart, handsome, nice, and successful, a rare and highly desirable combination, and Maddy was crazy about him, in a purely wholesome sense, she loved working with him. “I'm not sure I'd like to be the one to challenge Jack Hunter and go against one of his edicts.”

“I have connections,” she said with the first smile she'd shown since she'd read about Janet McCutchins.

“Yeah, and the best legs at the network. That doesn't hurt either,” he teased.

But at five o'clock, when she and Greg went on the air for the first time that day, Maddy was nervous. She looked as cool and impeccable as ever, in her red sweater, immaculately groomed hair, and simple diamond stud earrings. But Greg knew her well enough to see how anxious she was during the countdown to air-time.

“You gonna go for it?” he whispered as they got closer to airtime. She nodded to him, and then smiled as the camera zoomed in on her, and she introduced herself and her co-anchor. They worked their way through the news as they always did, working in perfect harmony, alternating stories, and then, Greg rolled his chair away, knowing what was coming, and Maddys face was instantly serious as she faced the cameras on her own.

“There is a story in today's news, which affects each of us, some of us more than others. It's the story of Janet Scarbrough McCutchins's suicide in her Georgetown home, leaving her three children without a mother. It's a tragedy certainly, and who can say what sorrows forced Mrs. McCutchins to take her own life, but there are questions that can't be ignored, and may well never be answered. Why did she do it? What great pain was she in at that moment, and before? And why did no one listen, or see what must have been her desperation? In a recent conversation, Janet McCutchins told me that she'd been hospitalized briefly once, for depression. But a source close to Mrs. McCutchins said that there could be an issue of abuse here, which led to her suicide. If so, Janet McCutchins would not be the first woman to take her own life, rather than flee an abusive situation. Tragedies like this happen far too often. It is possible that Janet McCutchins had other reasons to take her own life. Perhaps her family knows why she did it, or her husband, or her closest friends, or her children. But it brings into sharper focus, for all of us, the issues that some women face about pain, about fear, and desperation. I cannot tell you why Janet McCutchins died. It is not my place to guess. We have been told that she left a letter to her children, and I'm sure we will never see it.

“But we cannot help but wonder, why it is that when a woman cries, the world turns a deaf ear, and too many of us say, ‘There must be something wrong with her … maybe she's crazy’ But what if she isn't? Women die every day, by their own hand, and at the hands of their abusers. And too often we do not believe them when they tell us of the pain they're in, or we simply dismiss it. Perhaps it is too painful for us to listen.