“I'm not sure yet. I have a story to finish. But my husband hates making plans. He just tells me when to pack my suitcase, usually the day we're leaving.”
“Well, that must keep life interesting,” Bill said with a smile, wondering how she did that. Most people needed more warning. He couldn't help wondering too how her kids felt about it. “Do you have children?”
She hesitated for a fraction of an instant before she answered. “No, I don't actually.” But it didn't really surprise him. She was young and had a demanding career, and she still had lots of time ahead of her to have children. And it was hardly party conversation to tell him that she couldn't, that it had been a condition of Jack marrying her to have her tubes tied.
“At your age, you have lots of time to think about children.” And knowing what he did, he couldn't help wondering if her traumatic childhood had made her postpone having children. In her case, he would certainly have understood that.
“What are you doing this summer, Bill?” she asked, changing the subject.
“Normally, we go up to Martha's Vineyard. But I thought that might be difficult for me now. I gave my house to my daughter for the summer. She has three kids, and they love it there, and if I want to go up, I can always stay in the guest room.” He seemed like a nice man, and it was obvious that he was close to his children.
They continued talking for a while, and a very interesting French couple joined them. They were diplomats and fairly young, and a few minutes later the Ambassador from Argentina stopped to say hello to Bill and they chatted easily in Spanish. Bill was completely fluent. Maddy was surprised a few minutes later to discover that Bill was her dinner partner, and she apologized for monopolizing so much of his time beforehand.
“I didn't realize we'd be sitting together.”
“I'd like to tell you I engineered it,” he laughed, “but I don't have that much pull. I guess I'm just lucky.”
“So am I,” she said comfortably as he tucked her hand into his arm and walked her into dinner.
It was a lovely evening. She sat next to the senior Democratic Senator from Nebraska, on her other side, whom she had never met, and whom she had always admired. And Bill kept her entertained with stories about his years teaching at Princeton and Harvard. He had obviously enjoyed it, and his brief career as a diplomat had been both interesting and rewarding, until its tragic ending.
“And what do you think you'll do now?” Maddy asked him over dessert. She knew he was writing a book, and he said he was almost finished.
“To be honest with you, Maddy, I'm not sure. I was thinking about teaching again, but I've done that. It's been interesting writing the book. But after this, I'm just not sure what direction I should go in. I've had several offers from academic institutions, one of them of course being Harvard. I'm actually tempted to go out west for a while, maybe teach at Stanford, or spend a year in Europe. Margaret and I always loved Florence. Or maybe Siena. I've also been offered the opportunity to teach for a year at Oxford, on American foreign policy, but I'm not sure I want to do that, and the winters are a little rough. Colombia spoiled me, at least as far as the weather.”
“You have a lot of choices,” she said admiringly, but she could see why everyone wanted him. He was intelligent and warm and open to new ideas and unfamiliar concepts. “What about Madrid, since you speak such perfect Spanish?”
“There's an option I hadn't even thought of. Maybe I should learn to bullfight.” They both laughed at the unlikely image, and Maddy was almost sorry when they got up from dinner. He had been a wonderful dinner partner, and at the end of the evening, he offered to drive her home, but she told him she had a car and driver with her.
“I'll look forward to seeing you at the next meeting of the commission. It's such an intriguing, eclectic group, isn't it? I don't feel as though I have much to offer. I'm not very knowledgeable on the subject, at least not in the areas of abuse, or domestic violence. I'm afraid my brush with violence is a little unusual, but I'm flattered that Phyllis asked me.”
“She knows what she's doing. I think we'll make a good team once we focus on our direction. I'm hoping that we get some media attention. People need to have their eyes opened on the issues concerning abuse and women.”
“You'll make an excellent spokesperson for us,” he said as she smiled at him again, they chatted for a few minutes, and then she went home, and found Jack reading in bed, looking relaxed and peaceful.
“You missed a good party,” she said, taking off her earrings, and stepping out of her shoes as she stopped to kiss him.
“By the time we finished, I figured you'd be through with dinner. Anyone interesting there?”
“Lots of people. And I ran into Bill Alexander. He's a nice person.”
“I've always thought he was pretty boring.” Jack dismissed him and closed his book with an appreciative glance at his wife, even without her earrings and shoes, she looked particularly smashing. “You look great, Mad.” He looked as though he meant it, and she leaned down to kiss him again.
“Thank you.”
“Come to bed.” He had a familiar gleam in his eye that she recognized instantly, and a few minutes later when she joined him, he was more than willing to prove it to her. There were some benefits to not having kids. They never had to pay attention to anyone else, all they had to concentrate on, when they weren't working, was each other.
And after they made love, Maddy lay in his arms and snuggled next to him, feeling comfortable and sated.
“How did things go at the White House?” she asked sleepily with a yawn.
“Pretty well. I think we made some sensible decisions. Or the President did. I just tell him what I think, and he puts it in the hopper with what everyone else says, and figures out what he wants to do about it. But he's a smart guy, and he does the right thing most of the time. It's a tough spot to be in.”
“Worst job in the world, if you ask me. You couldn't pay me all the money on the planet to do it.”
“You'd be great at it,” he teased, “everyone in the White House would be well dressed, they would be beautiful, the White House would look wonderful, and everyone would be polite and compassionate and thoughtful about what they said, and all your Cabinet members would be bleeding hearts. A perfect world, Mad.” But in spite of the seeming compliment, to her it somehow felt like a put-down, and she didn't answer. As she drifted off to sleep, she forgot about it, and the next thing she knew it was morning, and they both had to get to work early.
They were both in the office by eight o'clock, and she and Greg sat down and did some work together on a special he was working on about American dancers. She had promised to help him with it, and she was still in his office at noon, when they both became aware of a lot of scurrying and running around in the hallway.
“Now what?” Greg asked as he looked up, wondering what had happened.
“Shit. Maybe things are heating up in Iraq. Jack was with the President last night. They must be cooking up something.” They both walked into the hallway to see what people were saying. Maddy was first to collar one of the associate producers. “Anything major?”
“A flight to Paris just blew to smithereens twenty minutes out of Kennedy. They claim you could hear the explosion all over Long Island. No survivors.” It was the abbreviated version of what had happened, but as Greg and Maddy checked the news desk, they learned what little more there was. No one had claimed responsibility for the explosion, but Maddy was sure there was more to the story, even if they did not yet know the details.