Within Reach

by Barbara Delinsky

  “Didn’t this weekend mean anything to you?”

  “God, yes! It’s meant the world! In some ways I feel like a totally different person. I was never this way with Blake.”

  He had to hear her say the words. “What way?”

  She faltered, feeling selfconscious but knowing that what she said was the truth. “Free with my body. Free to let go. Free to enjoy my partner’s…your body.”

  “And why do you think that is?” he asked quietly.

  “I know why, and so do you! It’s because we love each other, because you’re that kind of person and maybe because I always was but never knew it before. But it doesn’t change things, Michael, at least not everything. I still have other responsibilities.” She took a shaky breath. “This weekend puts a new light on things. When I said I had no second thoughts about our making love, I meant it, but that doesn’t mean I can forget about everything else. I need time, Michael. I know that’s asking a lot, but I need time.” She looked away. “I have to consider what all of this will do to Blake. I have to consider what it will do to my father.”

  “To hell with your father! What about what it’ll do to you if you stick with Blake? Have you stopped to consider that?”

  “I don’t have to. I’m the one who’s been unhappy for years.”

  “So?”

  She pressed her palm to the deck by her hip. “I’m also the one who has always wanted to do the right thing.”

  “The right thing as your father defines it, Dani.”

  “He is my father. I can’t write that off.”

  Sensing he was pushing too hard, Michael softened. “I know. I know. It’s just that I wish I could make you see that you’ve spent your life trying to please him and it hasn’t worked. Because of his ambition, what should have been wonderfully carefree years for you were years of sweating and struggling on one tennis court or another, and for what? Something you once enjoyed lost all meaning. Same thing with your marriage. You had dreams of what you wanted, and where have they gone? You’ve tried to please your father, and that’s noble and good and it shows that despite everything you love him. But maybe you can’t please him. Maybe it’s not worth it, if the price you have to pay is too high. It was with tennis; you realized that yourself. Isn’t it time you analyze your marriage to Blake the same way?”

  “It is, and I have. It’s just that things are complicated.”

  “They don’t have to be, Dani. You have a life of your own now. You’re not dependent on Blake. You have your own interests, your own friends, even the means to support yourself.”

  “It’s not a matter of money.”

  “I know that. But at some point you have to stand back and see yourself as the strong, independent woman you are. You don’t need your father’s approval. And besides, your father won’t be around forever.”

  “Michael!”

  He held up a hand and spoke very softly as he approached her. “He’s mortal, Dani. Just like the rest of us. Someday something’s going to happen, and when it does, are you going to find yourself looking back resenting all you didn’t have, all you didn’t do?”

  “Michael, please.”

  He had his hands on her shoulders and was gently kneading the tension he found. “You don’t need anyone’s approval if you decide to do what you believe is right. I wish you could see that.”

  “I’m trying, but it takes time.” She crumbled against him. “Don’t make me make promises now, Michael. I can’t. I just can’t.”

  Feeling her agony, he folded her in his arms and held her tightly. “I love you so much, Dani. I want us to be together, but if I can’t have that, at least I want to know that you’re happy. I think that’s what bothers me most. I hate the idea of your suffering through this charade with Blake, because that’s all it is, a charade.”

  Danica had no argument. So much of what Michael said was right, but when she thought of going back to Boston or Washington and announcing she was going to divorce Blake, she felt something akin to terror prickle her skin. Blake would be hurt, her mother would be disappointed, her father would be livid and the press would be in seventh heaven.

  And then there was Michael, whom she loved more than she had ever loved another soul. For a long time she didn’t speak, but simply drank in his nearness and the strength that was always there. When she looked up, his tender expression touched her. With a melancholy smile, she whispered her fingers across the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, then the grooves by his mouth. “You have creases.”

  “I’ve earned them.”

  “But they’re the best kind.” She thought of the tea tag she had read to Reggie that night in Boston. “You’ve been happy. Regardless of what you say about feeling something was missing, you’ve been happy.”

  “Happiness is relative. I’m happier now.”

  “But your life has been good. I hope I don’t do anything to spoil that,” she said more quietly.

  “How could you? You bring me joy.”

  “I also bring you pain, and I wish it didn’t have to be. You love me and want to marry me, and I love you but I can’t marry you. At least, not now. Not yet. There’s too much I have to work out. Will you give me time, Michael? Will you wait?”

  He took a deep breath and released it slowly, willing the knot in his throat to ease. “I don’t have any choice, do I?”

  “You do,” she said fearfully.

  “No, Dani. I don’t have any choice at all. I’ll wait because you’re worth it. I want you to remember that. You’re worth it.”

  twelve

  tHE WEEKEND AFTER DANICA RETURNED TO BOSTON, she flew to Washington to see Blake. He had requested that she accompany him to a dinner party on Saturday night given in honor of a visiting dignitary, but even if he hadn’t asked her down, she would have gone. She had to talk with him. One of them had to broach the topic of their deteriorating relationship, and it appeared that he wasn’t going to be the one.

  As it happened, he was at the office when she arrived on Saturday morning, and he returned only in time to change into a tuxedo and take her out. When she awoke on Sunday morning, he was playing squash. The first opportunity she had to talk with him was that afternoon, a short time before she was due to fly back to Boston.

  His houseboy had fixed them an early dinner, then had left, and they were alone. Blake was about to vanish into his den when she stopped him.

  “Blake? Have you got a minute?”

  He glanced at his watch. “I need to make several calls before we leave for the airport.”

  “Can’t it wait? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

  Though he seemed vaguely discomfited, he returned to his seat. “Yes?”

  “I think that we ought to discuss what’s happening?”

  He hesitated for only an instant. “All right. What’s happening?”

  She resented his deliberate blandness, and that gave her the courage to blurt, “Our relationship is going nowhere.” She saw a flicker of something in his eyes, but it was gone before she could identify it.

  “Where did you expect it to go?” he asked in a pleasant tone, flashing her a patronizing smile.

  “I’m not sure, but I didn’t expect it would stagnate.”

  “Is that what you think it’s doing? Danica, we’ve been married for nine years.”

  “And by rights we should be closer than ever. But we’re not. We lead very separate lives.”

  “Whose fault is that?” he asked calmly.

  “I won’t take the full blame. Marriage is a two-way street. Each partner has to give.”

  “Danica, what do you want of me? I have a critical job with the government. I give as much as I can.”

  “To the government, yes.”

  “And not to you?” His laugh was short, his handsome features hard and belying humor. “What would you have me do?”

  “You make no attempt to come see me in Boston. You didn’t make it up to Maine once this summer.” She wasn’
t sorry about either fact, but she felt they had to be said.

  “My life is here now, and I’m very busy. I’m grateful that you’re willing to make the trip down from time to time.”

  She felt she was dealing with a piece of wood. “Don’t you want anything more? Don’t you think that a marriage should be something more than an occasional weekend together?”

  Blake pondered that for only a minute. “There are many kinds of marriages. In some the partners are inseparable. In others, such as ours, they lead independent lives. Commuting marriages are common. And as I recall, it was your idea. You were the one who didn’t care to live here.”

  “You know why, but you don’t want to accept it.”

  “I accept it perfectly well, which is why I don’t know what’s upsetting you. As I see it, we’ve reached a satisfactory compromise. What’s the problem?”

  Danica took a deep breath. “Blake, do you see other women here?”

  “Of course I do. There are women everywhere I go.”

  “Do you date other women?”

  He lowered his brows in his first show of impatience. “Of course not. I’m married to you. I wouldn’t date other women.”

  “But don’t you want to be with a woman?”

  “What are you getting at?” he grumbled.

  She couldn’t believe he was so thick. “You’re a man. I’d think you’d want female companionship far more than you’re getting it.”

  “I’m busy. I don’t have time to think about female companionship, much less seek it out.” He gentled his voice. “Seeing you when you come down is enough.”

  She sighed. If he had intended his words to be flattering, they weren’t. He was thinking solely of himself, as though by rights the parameters of their marriage should be defined by his needs. “Well, maybe it’s not enough for me,” she said quietly. “Maybe I need something more.”

  For an instant he was stunned, and she actually felt sorry for him. “I hadn’t realized,” he murmured at last. “I guess I’ve been so busy that I haven’t thought about that.”

  “I have. A whole lot. There are times when I wonder if it wouldn’t be better for both of us if we were free. You could find someone to satisfy your needs here. I could find someone to satisfy my needs in Boston.”

  “What are you suggesting?” he asked, his body deadly still.

  “Maybe we should think about divorce.”

  “Divorce? I don’t want a divorce! That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard!”

  Studying the utter horror on his face, she was humbled. But she had come too far to stop just yet. “Maybe it’s the most practical,” she offered softly. “You don’t seem to take great joy in my company. I don’t think you’re particularly interested in what I’m doing.”

  “Of course I am! I ask you about your work, don’t I?”

  “Mostly I tell you about it. There are times when I feel you’re hardly listening.”

  “I’m listening. I always listen. But it’s your job. I would no more tell you how to go about doing it than I would expect you to tell me how to do mine.”

  She was shaking her head. “That’s only a small point among many. We share so little in life, Blake. We have different interests, different friends. Do you remember when the last time we made love was?” He should have. She certainly did. It had been sixteen months ago, in Maine, when she had all but seduced him, when she had become pregnant.

  He shrugged and frowned. “I don’t keep a score-card.”

  “Doesn’t it occur to you that it’s been a while?”

  “Danica, I don’t define my life in terms of sex. I’m forty-six years old. I think of other things now.”

  “Well, I’m twenty-nine, and I do think about the nonexistent love life I have with my husband.”

  Jumping from his chair, Blake paced to the far side of the dining room. He stood with his back to her, his hands on his hips. “Is that what you’re missing most? Sex?”

  “Of course it isn’t. It’s just one other thing that makes me wonder whether we have anything left at all.”

  “Christ, I don’t believe this,” he muttered. “I’m the one who should be going through a mid-life crisis, not you.” He whirled around. “What is it you want?”

  She crushed her linen napkin into a ball in her lap and spoke very quietly. “I want a family, Blake. I want a husband who’s around, and children—”

  “We tried for children and you lost it!”

  Stung, she lashed back. “We weren’t trying. I was.”

  He made a dismissing gesture with his hand. “The end result was the same. I thought I was being considerate giving your body a chance to recover.”

  “For sixteen months?”

  He totally ignored that. “And as for a husband who’s around, I am around. Around here. If you wanted, you could be with me more. It’s been your choice to stay in Boston.”

  “But things weren’t any different in Boston. You were always busy there, too.”

  “Damn it, I have a career. A very important one. I never promised you I’d sit around at home holding your hand, did I? Did I?”

  He was angry. Danica felt her own rebellion wane. “No.”

  “I never gave you cause to believe that we’d have anything other than what we have now.”

  “When we were first married—”

  “We were both a lot younger then. We had fewer responsibilities, and being married was a novelty. But the honeymoon’s over, Danica. It has been for a long time. We’ve moved on, and I think you’re being very shortsighted if you feel no pride in the direction we’ve gone. It’s not every woman whose husband is named to the Cabinet.”

  “But what about me?” she asked in a small voice. “What about the direction I’ve taken?”

  “It seems to me you’ve done pretty well,” he retorted, gaining force as she lost it. “I give you the kind of freedom that some men would never give their wives because I’m self-confident enough to allow it. You have your work with Governor Bryant. You have your friends. You have your house in Maine. You even have that Buchanan fellow. Let me tell you, some husbands would never stand for that. Some husbands would be jealous. But I’m not. I realize you have to have your own friends, and I’m happy you do.” His eyes grew steely. “But what I won’t stand for is talk of divorce. I don’t want one. You’re my wife, and I like it that way. The arrangement we have is very comfortable for me. So I’d suggest you grow up a little and accept what’s best for you.”

  She opened her mouth to protest when Blake stalked from the room, calling over his shoulder, “I’m going to make those calls you’ve kept me from, and after that I’ll drive you to the airport. You can leave the things on the table. John will clean up when he gets back.”

  Danica stared after his retreating figure. Only when she heard the den door shut did she blink, then swallow. She hadn’t known what she had expected, but it was certainly a little more tenderness than he had shown. Either that or that he would have agreed to a divorce. But he hadn’t. He had rejected it in no uncertain terms. He had opted for the playing out of their prescribed roles, just as her father would have done in the same situation. She wondered if her mother had ever put her foot down, then decided not, because her mother was an accommodator. And Danica? What was she? She couldn’t bear the thought of continuing with Blake, particularly after what she had found with Michael. But the battle lines were drawn. Blake would fight her. She knew her parents would fight her, too.

  Discouraged, she allowed Blake to drive her to the airport. He made no reference to their talk, indeed said little during the drive. She made no attempt to break the silence because her thoughts were too raw. Their parting was as dispassionate as was everything else about Blake. When he leaned down to give her a dutiful kiss, it was on her cheek and she was grateful. Her lips ached for another man, and having known his kiss so thoroughly, one from her husband was a sacrilege.

  Danica tried to settle back into routine, but her thoughts were never
far from Michael. She worked diligently with James, going over what she had written during the summer, discussing the direction of the last few chapters of their book, but her concentration when she was home alone was often broken by brooding. She resumed her ballet classes, delighting in seeing all her friends again, but they didn’t come home with her, either. On those mornings when she had board meetings at the Art Institute or the hospital, she found herself looking at the other women around the table, wondering if they were happy in their marriages, if they were loyal to their spouses and their spouses to them. She knew that several of them were on second, even third marriages, and she wished she were close enough to any of them to talk about it. But there was a formality among these people that she could never quite breach, so her questions went unanswered.

  On the day that Michael was due to arrive in Boston, she stayed home, waiting. His call came at three in the afternoon.

  “Lord, I’m sorry, Dani. I wanted to call you sooner, but they’ve had damned meetings scheduled since ten. How are you, sweetheart?”

  “Missing you. When will you be done?”

  “I should be free by six. Can you make it for dinner?”

  She answered quickly and without pride. “I can make it for anything. You name the time and place.”

  He smiled at her urgency, which fed his own. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.…Time and place?”

  He named them, having decided that a small Greek restaurant on the outskirts of the Square would give them the privacy they sought. “Dani, maybe I should pick you up. I’m not sure I like the idea of your driving around at night.”

  “No, this is better. I’ll lock all the doors. It’ll be fine.”

  “You’re sure?” He knew that what she said made sense. Though neither of them had spoken of proprieties, both knew that the more unnoticed their meeting went, the better.

  “I’m sure…I can’t wait, Michael,” she whispered.

  “Me, neither. I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through these meetings. It was bad…morning…” The connection broke momentarily.