“I wish I could,” she said slowly. “I just don't see when or how.” She would have loved to go to Morocco, to help and advise him. She admired his good intentions and hard work. She could tell that this was different for him and she wanted to help him. She just couldn't see how right now.
“What if you cancel your Friday? I have the plane there on Thursday, you could fly overnight. That would give you three days here over the weekend. You fly back Sunday night, and you're back in your office on Monday.” He had been trying to work it out for hours, and there was silence at her end.
“I'm off this weekend,” she said pensively, and Thelma was already covering for her. She could ask her for another day. But Maxine was well aware that going to Morocco for three days was a crazy thing to do, given all she had on her own plate.
“I just don't know who else to ask. These kids' lives will be ruined if someone doesn't do the right stuff for them now. A lot of them are going to be screwed anyway.” They had been injured and maimed and blinded, brain-damaged, and lost limbs when their homes and schools collapsed on them. An incredible number had been orphaned. He had seen a newborn baby being rescued, still alive, as they pulled it from the rubble, while Blake watched and cried.
“Give me a couple of hours to figure this out,” Maxine said quietly as her buzzer went off to tell her that her next patient had arrived. “I've got to think about it.” It was Tuesday. If she went, she had two days to get organized. But natural disasters never gave you notice, or time to plan. She had left before on a few hours' notice. And she wanted to help him out, or at least refer someone good to advise him. There was an excellent association of psychiatrists she knew in Paris who specialized in this kind of thing. But the thought of going to help excited her too. And she hadn't done anything like this in a while. “When can I call you?”
“Anytime. I haven't been to bed all week. Try my British cell phone, and my BlackBerry. They both work here now, some of the time at least … and Max … thanks …I love you, babe. Thanks for listening and giving a damn. Now I understand what you do. You're an incredible woman.” He had new respect for her after all he'd just seen firsthand. He felt as though he'd grown up overnight, and she could hear it. She knew that this was genuine, and a whole new side of Blake that was emerging at last.
“The same to you,” she said softly. There were tears in her eyes again. “I'll get back to you as soon as I can. I don't know if I can come, but if I can't, I'll find you someone first rate who will.”
“I want you,” he begged her. “Please, Max …”
“I'll try,” she promised, hung up the phone, and opened the door to her patient. She had to force her mind back to present time to listen closely to what the twelve-year-old girl was saying. She was a cutter, and had lines running up and down both arms. She had been referred to Maxine by her school, and was one of the victims of 9/11. Her father was one of the firefighters who had died, and she was part of an ongoing study Maxine had been doing for the city since it happened. The session was longer than usual, and afterward Maxine hurried home.
All her children were hanging out in the kitchen with Zelda when she got there, and she told them about their dad and what he was doing in Morocco. Their eyes shone as she told them, and she mentioned that he had asked her to join him. They were excited to hear about it and said that they hoped she would.
“I don't see how I can,” she said, looking stressed and distracted, and then walked out of the kitchen to call Thelma. She couldn't cover for Maxine on Friday since she was teaching a class at the NYU Medical School that day, but she said her partner could step in for Maxine on Friday instead, if she went. And Thelma was doing the weekend anyway.
Maxine made some other calls, checked her computer to see what appointments she had on Friday, and by eight o'clock she had made a decision. She hadn't even stopped for dinner. This was the least she could do, and Blake was making it easy for her by sending his plane. This was what life was about. She had always loved the line from the Talmud, and thought of it often, “To save one life is to save a world entire.” And she realized that perhaps Blake had finally figured that out too. It had taken him one hell of a long time. At forty-six, he was turning into a real human being.
She waited until midnight to call him. It was very early morning for him by then. She had to try several times on both his cell phones, and finally got through. He sounded even more exhausted than he had the day before. He told her he had been up all night, again. It was the nature of the beast in those situations, Maxine knew, and what everyone had to do. If she went, she would be doing that too, so as not to lose any more time than they already had. There was no time to waste or spend on food or sleep. Blake was living that now.
She cut to the chase. “I'll come.” He started crying when she said it. They were tears of relief, exhaustion, terror, and gratitude. He had never seen or experienced anything like this. “I can come Thursday night,” she continued.
“Thank God … Max, I can't thank you enough. You are one hell of a woman. I love you … thank you with all my heart.” She told him about the kind of reports she would need when she got there, and what she wanted to see. It was up to him to get her access to government officials, get her into hospitals, and help her meet with as many of the children as possible, wherever they were being gathered. She wanted to make the best possible use of every minute she was there, and Blake wanted that too. He promised to take care of everything at his end, and he thanked her another dozen times before they hung up.
“I'm proud of you, Mom,” Daphne said softly when her mother hung up. She had been standing in the doorway, listening to her end of the conversation, and there were tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” Maxine stood up and came to hug her. “I'm proud of your dad too. He doesn't know anything about this stuff, and he's doing everything he can.” Daphne saw clearly in one of those rare special moments that her parents were both good people, and it had touched her heart, just as Blake's call had touched Maxine's. They talked about it for a while, as Maxine made hasty lists of what she'd need for the trip. And she emailed Thelma confirming that she was going and needed her partner to cover her practice for her on Friday.
Maxine realized that she had to call Charles too. They had been planning to spend the weekend in Southampton and meet with the caterers and the florist. He could do it without her, or they could postpone it for a week. It wouldn't make much difference, the wedding was still two months away. But it was too late to call him that night. She climbed into bed and lay there wide awake for hours, thinking of all she wanted to do when she got to Morocco. Suddenly, this was her project too, and she was grateful to Blake for sharing it with her. It felt as though her alarm went off five minutes after she fell asleep. And she called Charles right after breakfast. He hadn't left yet for his office, and she had to be in hers in twenty minutes. Since school was out, all the children were sleeping, and Zellie was puttering around the kitchen, getting ready for the onslaught that would come later.
“Hi, Max,” he said happily, pleased to hear her when he answered. “Everything okay?” He had learned that calls from her at unusual times didn't always mean good news. Sam's recent accident had taught him that. Life was different when you had kids. “Sam all right?”
“He's fine. I just wanted to give you a heads-up. I have to go away this weekend.” She sounded rushed and a little more brusque than she meant to, but she didn't want to be late for her office, and she knew he didn't either. They were both punctual to a fault. “I have to cancel the meetings with the caterer and florist in Southampton, unless you want to go without me. Otherwise, I can do it next week. I'm going away.” She realized she sounded disjointed as she spoke.
“Something wrong?” She flew around to conferences all the time, but rarely on weekends, which, as much as possible, she considered sacred for her kids. “What's up?” He seemed confused.
“I'm going to Morocco to meet Blake,” she said bluntly.
“You're what? What does that mean?” He was stunned, and he didn't like the sound of it at all. Maxine was quick to explain.
“Not like that. He was there when they had the big earthquake. He's been trying to organize rescue missions, and resources for the kids. It sounds like a huge mess, and he has no idea what he's doing. This is his first foray into humanitarian work like that. He wants me to come over, look at some of the kids, meet with the various international and government agencies involved, and give him some advice.” She made it sound as though he had asked her to pick up a head of lettuce at the supermarket. Charles sounded shocked.
“You're doing that for him? Why?”
“Not for him. It's the first sign of being a human being and an adult he's shown in forty-six years. I'm proud of him. And the least I can do is give him some advice, and help them out.”
“That's ridiculous, Max,” Charles said, fuming. “They've got the Red Cross. They don't need you.”
“It's not the same thing,” she bristled. “I don't dig out survivors, drive an ambulance, or minister to the injured. I advise governments on how to deal with trauma in children. That's exactly what they need. I'm only going for three days. He's sending the plane for me.”
“Are you staying with him?” Charles asked, sounding suspicious. He acted as though she had said she was taking a cruise with Blake on his yacht. She had done that before too, with the children, but he was harmless. And they shared children, which justified almost anything to her. But in any case, this was different, whether Charles understood that or not. This was work, and that was it. Nothing else.
“My guess is I won't be staying anywhere, if this is anything like other earthquake disaster scenes I've been to. I'll be camping out in a truck, and sleeping standing up. I probably won't even see Blake when I get there, or not much.” It seemed ridiculous to her that Charles would make a jealous scene over something as obvious and benign as this.
“I don't think you should go,” he said, digging in his heels. He was livid.
“That wasn't the question, and I'm sorry you feel that way,” Maxine said coolly. “You have nothing to worry about, Charles,” she said, trying to sound gentle and be understanding about it. He was jealous. It was sweet. But this was one of her specialties and the kind of work she did all over the world. “I love you. But I'd like to go over and lend a hand. It's only coincidental that the one who asked me to go is Blake. Any of the agencies involved could have called me too.”
“But they didn't. He did. And I don't see why you're going. For chrissake, when his son got hurt, it took you nearly a week to find him.”
“Because he was in Morocco, and they had an earthquake,” she said, sounding exasperated. This was seeming more unreasonable to her by the minute.
“Yeah, and where has he been for the rest of his children's lives? At parties and on yachts and chasing women. You told me yourself, you can never find him, and that's not because of earthquakes. The guy is a jerk, Max. And you're running halfway around the world to make him look good while he rescues a bunch of earthquake survivors? Give me a break. Screw him. I don't want you to go.”
“Please don't do this,” Maxine said through clenched teeth. “I'm not running off with my ex-husband for an illicit weekend. I am going to consult about starting up a program for thousands of children who have been left orphaned and injured and are going to be traumatized for the rest of their lives if someone doesn't do the right stuff in the beginning. It may not make much difference, depending on how they implement it, and what kind of funding is available to them, but it could make some. And that's my only interest here, not Blake, but helping those kids, as many as I can.” She made it very clear to him, but he wasn't buying it. Not for a minute.
“I had no idea I was marrying Mother Teresa,” he said, sounding even angrier than before, much to Maxine's utter frustration and chagrin. The last thing she wanted was a fight with Charles over this. It was pointless, and would just make things harder for her. She had made a commitment to Blake, and she was going. It was what she wanted to do, whether Charles liked it or not. He didn't own her, and he had to respect her work, and even her relationship to Blake, such as it was. Charles was the man she loved, he was her future. Blake was her past, and the father of her children.
“You're marrying a psychiatrist specializing in suicidality in adolescents, with a subspecialty of trauma in children and adolescents. I think that's pretty clear. The earthquake in Morocco is right up my alley. The only reason you're upset about it is because of Blake. Can we be grown-ups here? I wouldn't make a fuss if you were doing it. Why can't you be reasonable about me?”
“Because I don't understand the kind of relationship you have with him, and I think it's sick. You two have never cut the cord, and you may be a psychiatrist, Dr. Williams, but I think your bond to your exhusband is twisted, that's what I think.”
“Thanks for your opinion, Charles. I'll take it into consideration some other time. Right now, I'm late for my patients, and I'm going to Morocco for three days. I made a commitment, and I'd like to do it. And I would appreciate it if you would be a little more adult about it, and trust me with Blake. I'm not going to have sex with him amid the rubble.” She was raising her voice, and so had he. They were fighting. About Blake. This was crazy.
“I don't care what you do with him, Maxine. But I can tell you one thing, I'm not going to put up with this kind of thing after we're married. If you want to run off to earthquakes and tsunamis and God knows what else halfway around the world, that's fine with me. But don 't plan on doing it with your ex-husband and have me stick around. I think this is just an excuse for him to get you over there and hang out with you. I don't think it has a goddamn thing to do with Moroccan orphans or anything of that nature. The guy isn't enough of a human being to give a damn about anyone but himself, and you've told me that yourself. This is just an excuse and you know it.”
“Charles, you're wrong,” she said quietly. “I've never known him to do anything like this either, but I have to respect what he's doing. And I'd like to help him if I can. I'm not helping him. I'm doing what I can for those children. Please try to understand that.” He didn't answer her, and they both sat there fuming. It bothered her that he had such an issue about Blake. It was going to make things very difficult for her and the children in the future if he didn't get over it. She hoped he would soon. And in the meantime, she was going to Morocco. She was a woman of her word. And hopefully, Charles would calm down. They hung up, but nothing had been resolved.
Maxine stood staring at the phone for a moment afterward, upset by the conversation. And she jumped at the voice behind her. In the heat of her fight with Charles, she hadn't heard Daphne come in. “He's an asshole,” Daphne said, with a voice from beyond the grave. “I can't believe you're going to marry him, Mom. And he hates Dad.” Maxine disagreed, but she could understand why her daughter felt that way.
“He doesn't understand the kind of relationship I have with him. He never talks to his ex-wife. They don't have kids.” But it was more than that with Blake. In their own way they still loved each other, it had just transformed into something else, a kind of familial bond that she didn't want to lose. And she didn't want a showdown with Charles over it. She wanted him to understand, and he didn't.
“Are you still going to Morocco?” Daphne asked with worried eyes. She thought her mother should, to help out her dad and all those kids.
“Yes, I am. I just hope Charles calms down over it.”
“Who cares?” Daphne said, pouring cereal into a bowl, as Zellie started making pancakes for her.
“I do,” Maxine said honestly. “I love Charles.” And she hoped that one day her children would too. It wasn't unheard of for children to resent a stepparent, particularly at these ages. There was nothing unusual about it, she knew, but it was damn hard to live with.
Maxine was a full half hour late at her office, and continued to run late all day. She hadn't had time to talk
to Charles again. She was swamped, seeing patients, and canceling whatever appointments she could for the end of the week. She called Charles as soon as she got home, and was discouraged to find that he was still upset. She reassured him as much as possible, and asked him if he wanted to come over for dinner. He stunned her by saying that he'd see her when she got back. He was punishing her for the trip that had been generated by Blake, and he didn't want to see her before she left.
“I'd love to see you before I go,” she said gently. But Charles wasn't ready to give it up. She hated leaving knowing that he was still angry at her, but he refused to relent. Maxine thought it was childish of him, but decided to let him calm down while she was away. There was no other choice. When she called him later, she found he had even turned off his phone. He was stewing and taking it out on her.
She had a pleasant dinner with her children that night, and after another crazy day in the office on Thursday, she called Charles again in the evening, before she left. This time he answered his phone.
“I just wanted to say goodbye,” she said as calmly as she could. “I'm leaving for the airport.” They were flying out of Newark where Blake always landed his plane.
“Take care of yourself,” Charles said gruffly.
“I emailed you Blake's cell phone and BlackBerry, and you can try mine. I think it'll work while I'm there,” she said, trying to be helpful.
“I'm not going to call you on his phone,” Charles said, sounding angry again. It still rankled him that she was going. It was going to be a miserable weekend for him. She understood why, and she felt badly about it, but she was sorry he couldn't seem to get past it and be more understanding. She was excited now about the trip, and what she'd be doing. There was always a kind of professional high in those situations, even though they were heartbreaking. But helping in national disasters like that made one feel like one's life had some meaning. She knew it was good for Blake too, and it was a first for him, which was part of why she was going. She didn't want to let him down, and she wanted to reinforce the turn his life seemed to be taking. It was just too much for Charles to understand. And Daphne was right. He hated Blake, and had been jealous of him from the first.
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