Within Reach

by Barbara Delinsky

  “I have with me,” he began, “some photographs I believe you would like to see.” He had already unclasped the portfolio and was pulling out a handful of prints.

  Michael took them, looked first at one, then the next and the next, all the while struggling to contain the nausea that had begun to churn in his stomach.

  “Where did you get these?” he asked, though his voice was hoarse and clearly revealed his shock.

  “They were taken by a private investigator.”

  Michael’s words came slowly and were laden with disbelief and disdain. “You hired an investigator to follow your own daughter?”

  “And you,” William added remorselessly. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

  “I don’t think I need to do that,” Michael answered. “The pictures speak for themselves. The fact that you had them taken says the rest.”

  “Then you’re smarter than I thought. Not that I’d have expected less from John Buchanan’s son—” he pointed to the pictures, which hung limply in Michael’s hand “—though you really were pretty stupid pulling this stunt.”

  “My father has no place in this. You’re talking to me.”

  “That’s exactly right, and I want you to listen. You’re to stay away from my daughter. You’re not to see her ever again.”

  “I’m not a young boy, Senator, and your daughter isn’t a child. Do you really think you can lay down laws and have people obey them just like that?”

  “I’m not the one laying down the laws you’ve violated. You’ve been having an affair with another man’s wife. That’s adultery.”

  There was no point trying to deny it. The photos in his hand showed him kissing Danica in her car, showed him holding her hand under what he’d thought was cover of a dimly lit restaurant booth, showed Danica entering a hotel room, then himself passing through the same door. Short of capturing the two of them in bed, the photos were condemning.

  “I know exactly what it is. I also know that your daughter is stuck in a miserable marriage and that I’ve been able to give her a love she’s never had.”

  “You’re talking out of turn, boy. You don’t know what she’s had and what she hasn’t.”

  “We’ve talked about many things, Senator Marshall. And regardless of what you think to be the case, Danica’s perception of it is what matters.”

  “This is all beside the point,” William stated boldly. “The point is that I’m prepared to use those pictures. I’ll show them to Danica’s husband, who can easily use them in an alienation-of-affection suit. I’ll show them to the press right at the time your newest book is being reviewed. I’ll show them to your father, if need be. The point is that you’re going to get out of my daughter’s life and stay out.”

  A slow fury rose in Michael. “You’re threatening me.”

  “Damned right I am!”

  Michael’s nostrils flared when he inhaled. The strain of not hauling back and punching the man in the nose was tremendous. His fingers clenched the photographs, bending them, though he didn’t notice. “It won’t work,” he said in a deadly quiet tone. “I won’t be intimidated like one of your underlings in Washington. You may have power there, Senator, but you’re off your turf here. The fact is that you’ll hurt yourself and your family far more by making these photographs public than you’ll hurt me. I have little to lose. My readers will buy my books regardless of any dirt you sling, and my publishers will keep on buying them because they’re good. As for my father, he relinquished control over me years ago. In fact, the one person, the only person, who will suffer badly from these things is Danica. If you love her at all, I’d think you’d want to spare her that.”

  William was shrewd. “I could say the same to you. If you love her at all, I think you’d want to spare her that.”

  He had hit home, and for a minute Michael had no answer. Only for a minute, though. Then sheer disgust for the man before him took over. “I love Danica more than you could ever imagine. She’s warm and intelligent. She’s loving and giving. The only thing I don’t understand is how someone as beautiful as that could have been spawned by someone as ruthless as you. Go ahead, Senator Marshall. Do what you want with your pictures.” He shoved them forward. “I can promise you that when both Danica’s marriage and her relationship with her parents fall apart, I’ll be there to pick up the pieces. In fact, that’s not such a bad idea. I’ve been wanting to take care of her for a very long time. Go ahead, Senator. Sling your mud. But don’t be surprised when it lands right back on your own face.”

  Not quite prepared for such a show of force, William stared silently at the cold-eyed man before him. He wasn’t bullheaded enough to deny that part of what Michael said was true, but he was bullheaded enough not to give up.

  “You say she’ll come running to you,” he ventured confidently. “I say she’ll go in the opposite direction. So where does that leave us?”

  “It leaves us with Danica right in the middle.” Michael paused, then went on in what he hoped would be a conciliatory tone. “Look, Senator, I really don’t wish any harm or unpleasantness on your family. I’ve never had any part in the differences you and our papers have had. When I first fell in love with your daughter, I didn’t know who she was, and by the time I found out, it was too late. For both of us. We were already involved, if only in an innocent sense.”

  He took a weary breath. “If you think it’s fun, or easy, being in love with a married woman, you’re nuts. I’d give everything I own to have it any other way. As it is, I’ve decided to go abroad for a few months. Danica needs time. So do I…Does that make you feel any better?”

  “What will make me feel better is your word that you won’t try to see her when you come back.”

  “I can’t give it. I’m sorry.”

  William pulled himself up to his full, stiff height. “Then, you’re going to have to remember that I have these pictures. Think about them when you call her on the phone, when you plan your little trysts, when you sneak in and out of hotels with her. If you thought it was hard before, it’ll be that much harder in the future. Because I know what’s going on now. These prints will be hanging over your head, and you never will know when I’m going to use them.” He turned to leave, then gestured over his shoulder. “You can keep those copies. I have others and the negatives locked safely away.”

  Michael clamped his lips together. He had nothing further to say, other than Bastard! No good son of a bitch! Filthy, lousy blackmailer! With eyes hard as stone, he watched the man who called himself Danica’s father climb into his car and back from the drive. Only when the car had disappeared from sight did Michael close the door. Then, with the force of disgust and anger and frustration, he slammed his fist against the wood, welcoming the pain as a diversion from the deeper, more searing pain within.

  “Hi, sweetheart.”

  Danica settled into his arms, uncaring who saw. “Michael, I’m so glad you came in.” Then she drew back. “You look so tired.” She slid her hands from his shoulders down his arms, only then encumbering what he had kept hidden. “What did you do to your hand?”

  He glanced sheepishly at the bandages. “I had a little accident. It’s nothing.”

  “Michael, it’s a cast. It couldn’t be nothing. And it’s your right hand. How are you able to do anything?”

  “I manage. A little slowly, perhaps. But I manage.”

  Cradling his injured hand to her breast, she met his gaze. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I can hear it in your voice. Something’s wrong.”

  “Dani, I can’t stay tonight. I have to get back.”

  “But I thought—”

  “I just had to turn in the last of my grades, but I wanted to see you.” He was taking a risk, he knew. Marshall had been right; the threats he made weighed heavily in Michael’s mind. Not that they could keep him from her. He meant his part of it. But he was uneasy and had kept a form of surveillance outside the restaurant before Danica had arrived. More than once he thought of the photogr
apher who had stalked them, and he castigated himself for not seeing anyone. If this had happened in Nam, he would have been reprimanded, if not removed from his assignment. But it wasn’t Nam, and he hadn’t been prepared. He hadn’t been looking. He hadn’t wanted to look. To look would have been paranoid and would have cast something ugly over what he and Danica had done.

  “Michael, what is it?” Danica knew there was something he wasn’t saying and she was frightened.

  He cupped her shoulder with his left hand, “I’m going away for a while.”

  For a minute she couldn’t speak. She swallowed, then took a breath. “What do you mean…away?”

  “I’m flying to Lisbon. I’m going to visit friends and explore the continent for a while.”

  “A while?”

  “A few months.”

  Her breath was unsteady. “But why?”

  Even as his eyes voiced his apology and begged her forgiveness, he began to speak the words he had so painstakingly prepared. “I need to get away, sweetheart. You need me to get away.”

  “I don’t—”

  He put a finger to her lips. “You need to be alone for a while. You have your book to finish and lots of other things to do.”

  “But I want to be with you. Those things don’t matter.”

  “Between your mother and me, you’ve lost a lot of good time. But it’s more than that. You need to think about Blake and about us. I need to think about how much longer I can wait.”

  “No…Michael…no ultimatums.”

  “It’s not that, sweetheart. It’s just a chance to breathe, to reassess, to plan. All fall I’ve been pulled in different directions. I’m tired. That’s all. I need time to recoup.”

  “We could take the time. I’d come up to Maine and—”

  “Would you take off and go to Europe with me?”

  “I can’t,” she whispered. “You know that.”

  “I do. And that’s my point. We have to find some other way, Dani. It’s just no good, sneaking around like this. Maybe by the time I get back something will have changed. Maybe Blake will agree to a divorce. Maybe you’ll decide to go ahead anyway and fight him. Maybe I’ll feel renewed enough to pick up where we left off. But, God, I’m so tired. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but I can live with it because the alternative is worse. Being with you is the focal point in my life.” Dazedly, she shook her head. “A few months. I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t see you in all that time.”

  “You’ll do just fine. In fact, you’ll do even better than that. You’ll be forced to see what a strong woman you are. It’s one thing when I say the words, another when you see them for yourself. And you need that. You need it if you’re ever going to be able to fight the odds that are still against us.”

  In defeat, she dropped her forehead to his chest. “I’ll miss you.”

  “And I’ll miss you. More than you can imagine.”

  When she raised her face, her eyes were filled with tears. “Will you be careful?” she whispered.

  He nodded. “Take care of yourself, love.” He lowered his head and gave her a soft, sweet, lingering kiss. His eyes too were moist when he drew back. He swallowed once, then turned to her. “Go on, now. It’ll be too difficult if you stay.”

  Knowing he was right, she began to walk in the direction of her car. She looked back once, but Michael’s figure was a blur through her tears. Tucking her head lower, she began to run. Only when she reached the Audi and had locked herself inside did she give way to the gulping sobs that welled up. Still crying, she started the car and headed home. When her tears didn’t abate after several turns around the block, she finally parked and went in. It was long hours into the night before her tears gave way to sheer exhaustion and she fell asleep.

  For a week Danica was unable to do much of anything but idle through the motions of life. At times when she least expected it she started to cry again. The sense of desolation that filled her was worse than anything she had ever known—worse than the loneliness she had felt as a child, worse than the unhappiness she had felt before she’d met Michael, worse than the continuing frustration she felt with regard to Blake.

  She told herself that Michael would be back, that several months wasn’t all that long a time. She reminded herself of the women who, in times of war, sent their husbands off for indefinite periods and even then without knowing whether they would return alive. She told herself that Michael did need the trip, that he had been working too hard, that he deserved a vacation. No amount of rationalizing seemed to help, though. She felt cut off from him, and hence from a part of her own soul. She missed him terribly.

  At long last she threw herself into her work, realizing that it held her only salvation. She visited James several times a week and wrote furiously when she was at home. She poured her physical energies into ballet until the teacher had to remind her that the point of the exercise was grace and control, after which she took her frustrations out on the pavement, walking for a furious hour through the Common each afternoon.

  Once a month she flew to Washington to satisfy her obligation to Blake. He said nothing on the matter of divorce, indeed acted as if it had ever come up. Though he made some attempt to be more solicitous to her, she knew it was a strain on them both. She was always relieved to return to Boston.

  For the most part, the people she saw from day to day were unaware of her torment. She managed to keep it in control when she was out. Eleanor, once again, was more perceptive.

  “Something’s bothering you, darling. Would you like to talk about it?”

  Eleanor had recovered remarkably. Though her walk held a slight limp, there were no other visible signs of her stroke. Indeed, she had traveled to Washington the week before, though she felt more comfortable returning to the quieter Connecticut countryside.

  At Danica’s suggestion, they had driven to a small restaurant in Avon, where they were they were dawdling over the last of their lunch. Hearing her mother’s question, and sensing that she simply had to talk about it and that the time had come to trust Eleanor as a friend, Danica began in a quiet voice.

  “It’s about Blake and me…and Michael.”

  Eleanor pressed her lips together. “I think I suspected that.”

  “How much do you know?”

  “I know that you and Blake are growing apart, and that what you feel for Michael is very strong.”

  “I love him.”

  Eleanor was still for a long moment. Danica could see her disappointment and wondered if she should have said anything after all. But she needed to. She had come to respect her mother over the past few months. On the sheer chance that Eleanor might have comforting words to say, the risk was worth it.

  “And Blake?” Eleanor asked quietly.

  “I…no, what I feel for him isn’t love.”

  “What happened? How did it die?”

  “I’m not sure it did. I’m not sure it was ever really there. Oh, I wanted to marry him and I thought I was in love. Looking back, though, I think that what I saw in Blake was the perpetuation of the life-style we all wanted for me. When I compare what I feel for Michael with what I feel, or felt, for Blake…well, there’s no comparison. They’re both men, but so very, very different.”

  “I see.” Eleanor looked down, frowning. “What do you propose to do?”

  “I don’t know. I talked to Blake about the possibility of divorce.” When her mother winced, she reached out and took her hand. “I don’t like it either, Mom. The thought of it ties me in knots. But then I look at what Blake and I have left, and it’s so little. I can’t believe he’s any happier with the arrangement than I am, though he says he is.”

  “Does he know about what you feel for Michael?”

  Danica drew her hand back. “No. I haven’t been able to tell him.”

  “Why not?”

  “He’ll be hurt. He’ll feel betrayed.”

  “So you do still feel something for him.”

  “I respect hi
m, and I do feel compassion.”

  “Two very basic requisites for a marriage.”

  “But I don’t feel love! I love Michael! And it’s tearing me apart, leading a dual life this way.”

  Again, Eleanor was silent for a time. “How long has this been going on?”

  “It’ll be two years this spring since I met Michael. But things have been deteriorating between Blake and me for much longer.”

  “Why are they coming to a head now?”

  Danica studied the silver spoon by her plate. “Because Michael’s away now. Because I realize that he’s not going to wait forever and that if I don’t do something I might lose him.”

  “Then divorce is what you want?”

  She looked at her mother. “What I want is to be happy. I’m not happy with Blake. With Michael I feel as though every dream I’ve ever had can come true. He loves me as much as I love him. He encourages me to grow, to do things with my life. He’s always there when I need him.”

  “He’s not there now,” Eleanor said softly. “Darling, maybe you haven’t been fair to Blake. Maybe you haven’t given your marriage a chance.”

  “It’ll be ten years this June. If that isn’t giving it a chance, I don’t know what is.”

  “But Blake has grown, too. Maybe you haven’t made enough of an effort to grow alongside him rather than away from him. He is your husband. You owe him a certain responsibility.”

  “What about his responsibility? He’s given me very little encouragement.”

  “Men are that way sometimes, particularly men like your father and Blake. They get wrapped up in themselves. They need prodding from time to time.”

  Danica was shaking her head. “I’ve prodded, but I get nowhere. I tried even harder with Blake after I met Michael, because I was afraid of what I was feeling. I didn’t want to feel it. You have to believe that, Mom. I didn’t want to fall in love with Michael. It just…happened. And regardless of what anyone says, it’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.” She paused. “I was hoping that you’d feel a little of what I do, but maybe that’s asking too much.”