Within Reach

by Barbara Delinsky

  By late May, having finished most of what he needed to do on the road, Michael headed for a few days’ R and R visiting friends and his sister in Washington.

  “Hey, Mike!” Jeffrey Winston half rose from his seat in the crowded restaurant to catch his friend’s attention.

  Michael quickly made his way to the table, shaking hands, then embracing the man he had been close to for years. They had met in college and had served together in Vietnam. For a time they had been brothers-in-law. The two were remarkably alike—both tall and rakishly good-looking, both intelligent, introspective and dedicated to their work.

  “How’s it going, Jeff? God, it’s good to see you!”

  “You, too, stranger. It’s been too long,” Jeff snagged a passing waitress around the waist and motioned for two more beers before turning back to Michael. “Cilla tells me you’ve been on the run.”

  Michael teasingly held up a hand. “Nothing clandestine. Just doing research for my next master-piece.”

  “The last one was great, Mike. Religious and racial bigotry—whew! Remember the talks we used to have on that topic?”

  Michael grinned. “Where do you think I got the idea for the book?”

  “Yeah, but you carried it off, while I couldn’t have written the first chapter. How’s it doing?”

  “Not bad. We’re into a second printing, which isn’t saying all that much given the size of the first one, but at least the book’s sales have exceeded my publisher’s expectations. It always helps to do well in their eyes. But tell me about you, pal. What’s this I hear about a promotion?”

  “Cilla’s been talking.”

  “Why shouldn’t she? It’s exciting. He-e-ey, I’m her brother and your friend. She knew I’d want to know. That doesn’t mean she printed it on page one. Besides, she’s proud of you.”

  “She is? Funny, she always hated what I did when we were married.”

  “It wasn’t what you did that she hated. It was what you didn’t do, i.e., tell her all the little details.”

  “I couldn’t. She’s the press, for Christ’s sake. I couldn’t tell her what I was working on when it was confidential.”

  “You didn’t trust her to keep it that way and she knew it. But, hey, I’m not blaming anything on you. It takes two to make a marriage work or not work. Cilla’s constantly curious, about anything and everything. She can be pretty intense when she wants to be. She’s like Dad in that way. I’m sure she was no joy to live with.”

  “I don’t know,” Jeffrey mused, “we had some good times. If it hadn’t been for her occupation…okay, okay, and mine, we might have made it. I don’t think she trusted me any more than I trusted her. She was constantly worried that I’d pry her sources out of her and then turn around and launch an investigation.” He snorted. “As if I had the power…”

  “Do you now? Come on, give. What’s the story on the promotion?”

  Jeffrey took a breath and sat back in his seat. Talk of Cilla always got to him. He had so many misgivings, so many lingering feelings for her. Lately, he seemed obsessed with the good times they’d had. In the six years since their divorce, he hadn’t met another woman who came close to her in fun or challenge or sheer sexual abandon.

  “The promotion. I’m in charge of DOD’s investigative unit. It’s not that I can go out looking for things to investigate, but when we get a referral, even a tip, I decide who’s going to do the work and then keep tabs on things.”

  “So it’s mainly administrative?”

  “More so than before. I still do the nitty-gritty—you know I love that part—and I can assign myself to work on some of the plums, which is nice. It’s a challenge.”

  “What are some of the things you’re doing?”

  Over roast beef sandwiches, Jeffrey talked. He kept his voice low and leaned forward from time to time, but he trusted Michael with his life, literally and figuratively. It occurred to him that if he had trusted Cilla a fraction as much, they might not have split. When he asked himself why he hadn’t trusted her, he didn’t like the only reason he could find, so he stopped pondering it.

  “Is that the current project?” Michael asked after Jeffrey had told of an investigation into leaks of classified information within the State Department.

  “No. Something else has just come up.” He frowned. “It’s a tricky thing.”

  It was Michael’s turn to lean forward, which he did with both brows raised in invitation.

  Jeffrey wavered. “I don’t know. It’s still pretty vague.”

  “Come on, Jeff. It’s me. Michael.”

  “This is a little different from the counterinsurgency work we did in Nam.…Ah, hell. You’ll keep quiet. Besides, there’s not really much that’s classified yet.” Putting both elbows on the table, he spoke quietly. “You’ve heard of Operation Exodus.”

  “U.S. Customs Service, isn’t it?”

  “Mmmm. It’s a program that was set up a few years back to halt the illegal export of high-tech products to the Soviet bloc. From the beginning it had plenty of opposition, congressmen and exporters who felt that it hindered the flow of trade abroad. The government’s theory is that since the Soviet Union is years behind us in research and technology that can vastly improve its military systems, it will beg, borrow or steal what it can. One vital acquisition can advance them ten years. The same semiconductors and integrated circuits that are used in video games also go into guided-missile systems. Small computers, which businesses here use every day of the week, also can be used by the military to efficiently plot and track movements of troops. Laser technology used by our doctors can be used to disable enemy communication satellites.”

  “Dual-use technologies.”

  “Right. Like I say, it’s a sensitive issue. There are constant battles being waged on what items should or should not be on the restricted list. Any number of advanced technology items could possibly be used for defense by a hostile country. Whether they would be is another story. The Pentagon takes the hard line, wanting to clamp down on every possibility. The Commerce Department is obviously more attuned to the country’s commercial interests. It maintains that by stringently controlling what Americans are allowed to export, we yield a lucrative market to European concerns.”

  “What about the Coordinating Committee for Export Controls? Doesn’t it have a say as to what’s sold to Eastern Europe?”

  “To some extent. Any one of its delegates can veto an American company’s request. Mmmm, CoCom makes it easier, that’s for sure, especially now that Germany and Japan are members. But the organization is voluntary. Member countries may agree on what is and is not sensitive material, but they have no obligation to enforce CoCom’s bans.”

  “Which means that the Commerce Department could, by rights, go ahead and issue a license to a company for export of goods that CoCom has vetoed.”

  “Right. Not that that’s happened often. Our government is firmer than others. But there have been slips, situations where licenses have been granted to companies they shouldn’t have been granted to—companies headed by shady characters, companies with suspicious business contacts in other countries. Over the past few years Operation Exodus has managed to thwart smuggling of some pretty important stuff to the East.”

  “So I’ve read,” Michael said pensively. “So where do you come in?”

  “The Department of Defense has begun to suspect that certain super-minicomputers are finding their way to places they shouldn’t be. Our intelligence agencies are seeing restricted items with very definite American stamps on them in use in countries which shouldn’t have them. So we’re investigating.”

  “Hey, exciting!”

  “That’s the spy in you speaking, Mike. Got a lot of mileage out of that book, didn’t you?”

  “It sold well. Hmph, it did more than that. Somebody saw it and liked it and because of it asked me to teach a course on intelligence work and counterespionage at Harvard next fall.”

  “No kidding? The JFK School?”
>
  Michael nodded. He had just gotten word of his appointment. He was looking forward to being in Boston once a week for more reasons than one.

  “You’ve never taught before, have you?”

  “Only one-time seminars. This’ll be an experience. From what I hear, the students are sharp. By rights I should have a Ph.D. to teach at a place like that, but I guess they felt my book—and the others I’ve written—were credential enough.”

  “I’d think so. What are you working on now?”

  They talked for a while about Michael’s latest project, then about mutual friends that one or another had seen, then, inevitably, about the legs of their waitress.

  “Why does it always come down to this?” Michael asked, laughing. “You’d think we were still in college, sitting around the frat house rating the coeds on a score of one to ten.”

  “Some of them were dogs, weren’t they?”

  “Hmph. The same dogs are probably gorgeous today. Gorgeous and successful and married. And here we sit, the two of us, with no one.”

  “Is that a note of wistfulness I hear? A change of heart in the confirmed bachelor?”

  “We ain’t gettin’ younger, pal.”

  “But wiser. Maybe we’re getting wiser.”

  “I sometimes wonder,” Michael mused and happened to glance at the opposite side of the restaurant. “I don’t believe it. She’s here.”

  Jeffrey twisted to follow his gaze. “Cilla! When did she come in? I didn’t see her before.”

  “We weren’t exactly looking around.” Michael kept his eyes glued to his sister. She looked up once, met his gaze but quickly returned to her discussion with a well-dressed man of the diplomat type. “I spent yesterday with her. She knew I was meeting you here, but she didn’t say anything about her own plans.”

  “Maybe she wanted to surprise you.”

  “Maybe she wanted to surprise you.”

  Jeffrey gave a half-laugh. “She’s done that. Look at the guy. He’s not her type. No flair. No excitement.”

  “She’s probably interviewing him for a piece she’s writing.”

  “I hope so. Jeez, I’d hate to think she’s gotten desperate.” He paused, still staring at Cilla. “She looks good, doesn’t she?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Wonder if she does date much.”

  Michael was grateful that Jeffrey wasn’t looking his way. It was hard to keep his lips from twitching. “No one special. I think she’s pretty fed up with it all. Face it, pal. You spoiled her for other men.”

  “Y’ think so?” Jeffrey asked, then jerked his gaze back to Michael. “Don’t shit me. You guys spoiled her. Made her too independent for her own good. I couldn’t tame her, that’s for sure.”

  “You’ve both mellowed. Maybe you should give it another try.”

  Jeffrey was shaking his head a little too quickly. “We have a basic conflict of interest. Her work and mine.”

  “It’s only a matter of trust.…Don’t you ever wish you had a family?” Michael asked hesitantly, wondering if he was the only one with the sudden affliction.

  “All the time. But Cilla’s not the type to slow down. Can you imagine her nine months pregnant and racing around the city after one story or another?”

  Michael chuckled. “I almost can. She’d give birth on a street corner, stick the kid in her purse and keep going.”

  “A kangaroo. Just like a kangaroo, hoppin’ all over the place with a kid in her pouch.”

  “Or an Indian squaw with a papoose on her back. Still, they loved their babies, the Indians did.”

  “Why do I hear a message in this?”

  “Do you? Hey, look. Here she comes.”

  Sure enough, Cilla was approaching their table, having left her companion behind to pay the bill. “Look who’s here.” She leaned down to kiss Michael, then nonchalantly put a hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder. “Hi, Jeff. How’s it goin?”

  “Great, Cilla. Just great. Mike and I were having a fascinating talk.”

  “About what?”

  “Kangaroos.”

  Cilla shot Michael a strange look before returning to Jeff. “Are you thinking of adopting one?”

  “I had one once.”

  “You never told me that.”

  “It was strictly confidential. Classified information.”

  Cilla gave an exaggerated nod and diplomatically went along with the gag. “I hope you had more luck house-training it than Mike had with his pup.”

  “I had no luck at all. Finally had to let her go…for her sake and mine. I do miss her, though. She had her moments.”

  “We all do,” Cilla said with a sad sigh. She rubbed her hand across Jeff’s broad back. “Well, I’d better run.” Leaning down, she pressed her cheek to his, waved to Michael and was off.

  “Fool kangaroo,” Jeffrey muttered.

  Michael studied his friend but said nothing. He had seen the light in Jeff’s eyes when Cilla had been near, had seen the flush on his sister’s cheeks when she had been talking to Jeff. He was sure that strong feelings still existed between these two people who meant so much to him. Nothing would make him happier than to see them get back together, though it was out of his hands, as it should be. After all, he mused, who was he to be matchmaking when his own love life was at loose ends.

  “Hi, Dani.”

  “Michael! Where are you?”

  “Back home at last. Boy, does it feel good. It’s beautiful up here now. Everything’s blooming.”

  “I saw. I was up several weeks ago and it was pretty then. It wasn’t the same though without you there. Did you get everything done that you wanted to?”

  “Yup. I’m all set to spend the summer writing.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You’re kidding! You finished all the taping?”

  “Uh-huh. James is heading to Newport for the summer, so it’s just as well. Everything is transcribed. Now the fun part starts.”

  “You can do it, Dani. I’ve told you that before.”

  “I know. Still, it’s a little awesome holding all this stuff in my lap and knowing that I have to put it into some intelligible form.”

  “Jump in. That’s what I do. The worst part is the anticipation. It’s not so bad once you get going.”

  “I’m counting on that. How’s Rusty?”

  “He’s a monster. You won’t believe it when you see him.”

  “He didn’t give Greta and Pat any problems while you were away?”

  “Are you kidding? Their house is full of crap anyway.”

  “Michael,” Danica scolded, but she was laughing, “that’s not fair. Greta and Pat’s house is wonderful.”

  He smiled. It was so good to hear her voice, so much better to hear her laugh. “I know it and I know you know it, so it’s okay for me to say what I did.”

  “How are they, anyway?”

  “Terrific. They’re wondering when you’re coming up. I’m wondering when you’re coming up.”

  She beamed. She didn’t care how dangerous it was, but she had gone more than eight months without seeing Michael and she was starved. “I’ll be there in a few weeks.”

  “For how long?”

  It was her surprise and she savored it. “Till Labor Day.”

  “Till Labor Day?” He had assumed, given Blake’s new status, that she would have to spend time in D.C. “Sweetheart, that’s great!”

  “I think so. I need the time there badly.”

  He hesitated for just a minute. “Things have been rough?”

  Her voice grew more quiet. “I guess you’d say that. There’s not much for me in Washington.”

  “Blake’s busy?”

  “Blake’s busy. It’s worse than it was here. He loves everything about the place—the glitz, the pomp, the power—everything I hate.”

  “Have you told him so?”

  “Yes. He says that it’s only for four years, but he’s not kidding me. If Claveling is reelected it could easily be for eight, and even if it isn
’t, Blake’s hooked. If it’s not a Cabinet position, it’ll be something else. Not very promising for the warm, close family I wanted.”

  There was nothing Michael could say to that. He wanted to say that he’d give her the warm, close family she wanted, but she already knew it. The ball was in her court.

  “Well,” he said with a sigh, “at least coming up here will be a break.”

  “Don’t you know it,” she said with feeling, and he laughed. “Unfortunately, my mother may be spending some time there with me.”

  “Uh-oh. She’s still feeling maternal?”

  “I don’t understand it, Michael. I still don’t understand it. All of a sudden she wants a close mother-daughter relationship. When I’m in Washington, we see each other. When I’m here, she calls at least twice a week. That’s more than Blake does.”

  “Maybe she knows that and feels badly.”

  “No,” Danica replied thoughtfully. “There’s something more. I think she’s feeling her own mortality.”

  “She’s been sick again?”

  “Oh, no. She’s fine. It’s just that, well, it’s almost as if she’s looking back on her life, looking for something now that she didn’t have then.”

  “Have you discussed it with her?”

  “We don’t get into talks like that.”

  “You could.”

  “I know. But I feel awkward.”

  “Maybe it’ll be good if she comes up, then. Maybe you’ll be able to work through that awkwardness.”

  “I don’t know. I still feel so much resentment. You remember how awful it was when she was up last summer.”

  He remembered very well. “You weren’t at your best then, Dani. This time you can do things with her, take her out, maybe introduce her to some of the people you’ve met here.”

  “She’s already met you. You’re the one who matters most. And if she’s around…it’s so hard to pretend.”

  “Shhh. Let’s face that when it comes. In the meantime, just concentrate on getting away.”

  “I will. Michael? I’m glad you’re back. It makes me feel better knowing you’re there.”

  “I’ll always be here for you. You know that, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. She did know it. Regardless of where he was, she knew he would come running if she needed him, and she loved him all the more for it.