Changes (34 page)

“It's so good to see you, Mel. It's awful being three thousand miles apart.”

“I know.” But there was no solution to that, and they both knew it. They ordered room service and enjoyed staying in their room alone, and they had already made love once when Peter asked her how the sketching of the new contract was going. “We know what we want at least. The question now is will we get it.” It was a bit like his own plight with her and he smiled, and kissed her softly on the lips.

“They're crazy if they don't give you everything you want. You're the best thing they've got and they know it.”

Mel smiled at the lavish praise. “Maybe I should have you negotiating this instead of my attorney.”

“When do you start actually negotiating this?”

“In about two weeks.”

He looked sad, but almost resigned now. “That means I don't see you for another month, I imagine.”

She couldn't deny that. Contract negotiation was a tense time for her, and she wanted to be on hand every moment. She wouldn't be in the mood to go anywhere, not even to see him. “Can you come east?”

He shook his head. “I doubt it. We've done two heart transplant patients in the last month”—she knew that much already—“and we're waiting to do another heart-lung. I'm not going to be able to go anywhere for quite a while.”

“Able,” she reminded him, “but not willing. There's a difference.” But she understood the reasons why. They were both trapped by their jobs and their lives and their children. It was crazy, it was almost like being married to separate people, and they had to take what they could while they could get it.

Mel didn't even see his children again until Sunday afternoon, the night before she took the red eye. But they had stayed almost in hiding at the Bel-Air. They wanted to be alone every moment they possibly could, and Mel thought it was best if they didn't see too much of the children. She could already sense that now that Pam was back on her own turf, she was not as warm to Mel. She felt more secure here, and she had her father to herself again. But the boys hadn't changed. Mark pumped her for every possible bit of news of Val, and all Matthew wanted to do was sit on her lap and hug her. The afternoon and evening went too quickly, and it seemed only hours after she arrived that she was back at the airport with Peter, waiting for her plane, with tears in her eyes. She didn't want to leave him, but she had to.

“It's a crazy life we lead, isn't it?”

“It is.” His pager went off then and he rushed to a nearby phone. There was a problem with one of his transplants, and he had to leave at once. For a second, it reminded him of the night he had operated on Marie, and had called Mel at the airport just before she got on the plane. But this time she wasn't invited, and she wasn't on a story, and she had to get back to New York by the next morning. He couldn't even wait for her flight. He had to kiss her then, and run down the long terminal hall, turning to wave once or twice before he disappeared, and she was left alone. It was a bitch having two careers as demanding as theirs, she thought to herself as she boarded the plane in first class, and she decided that if anyone asked for an autograph she would break their arm. She wasn't in the mood to be nice to anyone, but fortunately no one spoke to her from Los Angeles to New York, and she walked into her house at six thirty the next morning, feeling tired and depressed. When she called Peter at the hospital, at seven
A.M.
his time, she was told that he had just gone back into surgery. It was a lonely existence for both of them, but it couldn't be helped. And as it turned out, she didn't get back out to see him at all in October. The negotiations for the new contract were going hot and heavy.

“Have you forgotten me entirely, or is there any hope for the coming month?” Peter was beginning to complain daily on the phone, and Mel thought that if she saw another flowery envelope from Mark to Val she would scream. He must have bought her every corny card in the state of California by then, and it drove her crazy, but Val loved it.

“I promise, I'll be out this month.”

“That's what you said last month.”

“It's the damn contract, besides which, you know I worked two weekends.” When the Soviet premier and his wife had arrived for an unexpected visit, Mel had been dispatched to Washington, D.C., to interview the Russian counterpart of America's First Lady, and she had actually liked her. And the following weekend she had done a follow-up interview on the President's recovery. “I can't help it, Peter.”

“I know, but I have no one else to bitch at about it.”

She smiled. There were times when she felt the same way about his patients. “I promise. I'll be out next weekend.” And she kept her word, but he spent most of it in surgery with Marie, who was suddenly failing. They had operated on her twice in the past month, but she was having every possible complication typical of transplants. And Mel spent most of the weekend shopping and taking his children out. She took Pam with her when she shopped for the girls, and they had lunch at the Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel, which Pam loved although she didn't admit it, and her eyes grew as wide as saucers whenever someone approached Mel for an autograph, which they did four or five times before lunch was over. And after that she took Matt to a movie. And finally on Sunday, she got some time with Peter, but he was distracted, listening for the phone with one ear, and thinking about Marie the entire time.

“You know, if she weren't so damn sick, I'd be jealous.” She tried to joke with him about it, but neither of them was really in the mood.

“She's a very sick girl, Mel.”

“I know she is. But it's hard sharing you with her, when we wait so long between visits.” But that reminded him of something he'd been meaning to ask her.

“What about Thanksgiving?”

“What about it?” She looked blank.

“I've been wanting to ask you if you and the girls would come out here. We do a traditional Thanksgiving every year, and we'd all love to have you. It would make it a real family event for us.”

“That's about three weeks away, isn't it?” He consulted his calendar and nodded. “Then we should have closed the contract by then.”

“Is everything determined by that, Mel, even Thanksgiving?” He looked upset and she tried to soothe his ruffled feathers with a kiss.

“It puts a lot of pressure on me, that's all. But we should have wrapped it up by then.”

“Then you'll come?”

“Yes.” He looked first thrilled, then worried.

“What if the contract doesn't close before Thanksgiving?”

“Then I'll come anyway. What do you think I am? A monster?”

“No, a damn busy woman. And too important by half!”

“Do you love me in spite of that?” Now and then she worried that it would get to him and he'd throw in the towel. It was something she had always worried about, that success would cost her the love of a decent man like him.

But he put his arms around her now and held her close. “I love you more than ever.” And tonight when he took her to the plane he stayed until it took off.

When she told Jess and Val the next morning, Valerie gave a squeal of delight and rushed upstairs to dash off a note to Mark before she left for school as Mel stared at the stairs in annoyance and then addressed herself to her oldest daughter.

“Doesn't she think of anything else anymore?”

“Hardly ever,” Jessica answered honestly.

“I can't wait to see her grades at mid-term.” Jessica didn't say a word, she knew just how bad they were going to be. The constant letter writing to Mark had taken its toll on her sister's homework.

“It'll be fun to go to California for Thanksgiving.”

“I hope so.” Mel smiled tiredly, and kissed the girls when they went to school, and before she unpacked from the weekend, she called her lawyer. She knew he went to the office before eight o'clock every morning. But the news he gave her wasn't good. The network was still stalling on the contract, hoping she'd give up some of what she wanted. But he reminded Mel that she didn't have to, that they'd probably give in to her demands, and if they didn't, a dozen other offers would come in a matter of moments, if she even hinted that she was open to offers.

“But I'm really not, George. I want to stay where I am.”

“Then hang tough.”

“I intend to. Any chance we can get it wrapped up before Thanksgiving?”

“I'll do my best.”

But as it turned out, his best didn't do it. And when they took the plane to L.A. three weeks later, nothing was settled. Mel's attorney insisted that they were at the eleventh hour, but nothing was signed yet, and it was driving her crazy. Peter could see just from the nervous way she walked off the plane that it was all getting to her, but they would have four days together now, and he hoped she would unwind. He just prayed that the President didn't get shot and no one needed a heart transplant over Thanksgiving. And his prayers were aswered. They spent a peaceful Thanksgiving, with all five children happy to be together again. Mrs. Hahn outdid herself nobly with a Thanksgiving feast which left everyone barely able to leave the table.

“My God, I can't move.” Val stared down at her stomach in despair, and Mark came to her rescue, and pulled her out of her seat, as Pam and Jess went upstairs to play chess. Matthew curled up near the fire with his favorite blanket and his teddy bear and went to sleep. Peter and Mel repaired to his den to relax and talk. There was a feeling of homecoming about it all, and Peter had insisted that they not sleep at a hotel, but stay there at the house, in the guest room. And because Jess was along, Mel felt that Pam wouldn't be as upset at their staying there. She was in effect Mel's guarantee of safe passage.

“It was a beautiful dinner, Peter.”

“I'm glad you're all here.” He looked at her searchingly and saw the tired lines around her eyes. They didn't show on camera with her makeup, but he knew they were there, and it bothered him to see them. She shouldn't have been working that hard, or been under that much pressure. “You've been pushing too hard, my love.”

“What makes you say that?” She stretched her legs out toward the fire.

“You've lost weight and you look tired.”

“I suppose I do…. It's a tough business.” She smiled at him. She knew he'd had a rough time too, with two new transplants and Marie, who was developing problems with the steroids again, but she was doing better.

“Nothing new on the contract?”

“George says it's a matter of hours. They ought to sign it on Monday when I go back.”

Peter didn't say anything for a long time and then he looked at Mel. He didn't know how to begin to approach it, but the time was now or never. It may have been his last chance forever, or at least a year. He had to. “Mel …”

“Hmm?” She had been staring into the fire in the silence, and now she looked up with a smile, relaxing at last after weeks of tension. “Yes, Doctor?”

He wanted to move closer to her, but he didn't. “I've got something to ask you.”

“Something wrong?” Maybe something about Pam, but she had been all right lately. Better than Val surely, whose grades, Mel had discovered, had never been lower. But she was going to speak to Peter about that later in the weekend. They were going to have to put some kind of restrictions on the two lovebirds before Val flunked out of school completely, and Mel wanted Peter's support. But there was no rush to talk about that yet. “What's up, love?”

“Something I've been wanting to discuss with you for a long time. About your contract.”

She looked surprised. So far he'd stayed away from advising her about her work, and she thought it just as well. He didn't know her field any better than she knew his, and all they could offer each other was moral support, which was what they both needed. “What about it?”

“What if you don't sign it?”

She smiled. “The problem isn't me, it's them. I'd sign it in a minute, if the bastards would give us all the conditions we want. And I think they will. But it's been a war of nerves till now.”

“I know it has. But what if you don't sign it …"H e held his breath and then went on a moment later, “And sign with someone else instead?”

“I may have to if I don't get what I want.” But she hadn't gotten the point yet. It was the furthest thing from her mind. “Why? What did you have in mind?” He was obviously telling her something but she wasn't sure what yet.

He looked her straight in the eye and said it in a single word. “Marriage.” There was a total blank on her face and then a look of shock as she went pale, staring at him.

“What do you mean?” Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I mean I want to marry you, Mel. I've been trying to get up the guts to ask you for months, but I didn't want to screw up your career. But with your contract taking this long to get signed, I just thought … I wondered …” She got up and stalked across the room, to stand near the fire with her back to him, and then at last she turned slowly.

“I don't know what to say to you, Peter.”

He tried to smile, but he was so desperately afraid he couldn't.” A simple yes will do.”

“But I can't do that. I can't give up everything I've built in New York. I just can't …” Her eyes filled with tears.” I love you, but I can't do that…” She started to tremble all over and he went to her and took her in his arms, with tears that she could not see filling his eyes as he held her.

“It's all right, Mel. I understand. But I had to ask you.”

She pulled away from him so she could see him, and there were tears pouring down her cheeks as well as his now.” I love you … oh God, don't ask me to do that, Peter. Don't make me prove something I can't prove to you.”

“You don't have to prove anything to me, Mel.” He wiped his cheeks and sat down on the couch. There was no kidding themselves either, they couldn't go on flying across the country to see each other forever. The end was inevitable, and they both knew that. He looked at her now, his eyes boring into hers and shook his head slowly. “I used to think we were both such lucky people, good kids, good careers, and we found each other.” He smiled ruefully. “Now I don't think we're so lucky.”

Mel didn't answer and at last she blew her nose and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “I don't know what to say to you, Peter.”