Within Reach (17 page)

There was a lengthy pause on both ends of the line.

“You’re not?” Michael asked at last.

“No,” she answered very softly.

“Why not?”

“Because I enjoyed your kiss. I’d been wondering what it would be like. Now I know. But we can’t let it happen again. It’s too tempting.”

Relieved that she hadn’t tried to deny what she had so clearly felt, Michael smiled. “Damn right about that. Listen, Dani, don’t be too hard on yourself. If I know you, you’ll sit there feeling guilty. It happened. Now we
both
know how careful we have to be. Okay?”

“Okay.…Michael?”

“Mmmm?”

“I like Cilla.”

“I’m glad. So do I.”

“Will I see her again before I leave?”

“I’ll send her over to visit. How’s that?”

“Great, as long as she promises to forget everything she’s heard.”

“I’ll make sure of it. ’Night, Dani.”

“Good night, Michael.”

He replaced the receiver with a smile on his face and a fullness in the region of his heart. His momentary serenity was shattered, though, when a quiet voice came from the door.

“What are you doing, Michael?”

He whirled around, stared at his sister, then scowled. “How long have you been standing there?”

Arms comfortably crossed over her chest, Cilla was lounging against the doorjamb. “Long enough. Not that I really needed to hear anything. The vibes passing between you two were obvious.”

“Funny, I thought we were pretty subtle.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business.”

“Come on, Mike. This is Cilla. Your sister. Your twin. Your better half?”

“Good thing you made that last a question. It’s always been up for grabs.”

“You’re avoiding my first question. What in the devil are you doing with her?”

“Don’t you like her?”

“You know I do. She’s lovely. She’s poised and intelligent and pretty—”

“Beautiful. She’s beautiful. Inside and out.”

“She’s also married.”

He glared. “I know that.”

“You seem to forget it from time to time. Michael,
what are you doing
?”

He gave her another long, hard stare, then turned and propped himself against the edge of his desk. “I’m trying to survive.”

“What are you talking about? You’ve been surviving very well all these years.”

“That’s the whole point. All these years passing and where am I? Sure, I have a career and financial security. Sure, I have friends. But I want something else.”

“I hadn’t realized you felt something was missing.” She came to perch by his side against the desk. “You’ve been with lots of women. How long have you wanted this ‘something else’?”

“Since I met Danica. I hadn’t realized it was there. No one’s ever inspired the feelings she does.”

“You’re not talking survival. You’re talking suicide. Mike, she’s out of reach. You can’t have her.”

“Maybe not all of her. But I can have some of it.” He turned to his sister in earnest. “Look, things aren’t right with her marriage. That was one of the reasons she bought the house up here. She thought she and Blake would be able to patch things up if they got away from the city. But he doesn’t come. Not often, at least. And I have a feeling that things aren’t great when he’s there. After he left last Sunday, she was in a blue funk. She tried to hide it, but I saw.”

“Maybe you wanted to see.”

“I
saw
.”

“So what are you saying? That you’re going to sit around and hope that her marriage falls through?”

“Damn it, Cilla, you make me sound like a monster.” He raked a hand through his hair, ruffling it more than the night breeze already had. “I’d give anything to see Danica happy, even if that means the recovery of her marriage. But regardless of what happens, we’re friends. We were from the first, when we saw each other on the beach last March. It’s something I can’t change, something that’s as much a part of me as a hand or a leg—”

“Or a heart?”

“Or a heart.” He sighed. “Which is why I tell you that I’m only trying to survive. I can’t live with her. I can’t live without her. So I guess I’ll have to take whatever I can get.”

“Oh, Mike,” Cilla said sadly, “it hurts me to hear you say that. You deserve so much more. Maybe you should be out there looking. Maybe now that you’ve realized what you want…” She let the thought lapse when Michael’s expression grew hard. “Okay, I know.
She’s
what you want. But there may never be a future for the two of you. Have you thought of that?”

“I try not to.”

“Then you’re a fool.” She threw a hand in the air. “Hell, we’re
all
fools. Love is a bitch. Do you know that?”

For the first time since he had found Cilla in his den, Michael smiled. “What’s doing with you? Still seeing that guy…what was his name…Waldo?”

“Wally, please. And no, I’m not seeing him.”

“What happened?”

“He started getting serious, so I called it off.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I did. Just not enough to consider marriage.”

“Would you ever consider it again?”

“If the right guy came along.”

“But you’re still bumping into Jeff?”

“It’s inevitable, isn’t it? Washington’s not
that
big. He asked for you, by the way. He was wondering when you’d be getting down. He misses the talks you two used to have.”

“I miss them, too,” Michael mused. “We go way back, Jeff and I. Talking shop with him is fun.”

“Whose shop…yours or his?”

“Either. Both. We pick each other’s brains. He’s one hell of a bright guy.”

“I think the Defense Department’s finally realized that. They’ve given him a promotion. From what he inferred, he’s working on some pretty sensitive investigations.”

“Really? Who’s he investigating?”

Cilla gave a rueful frown. “If he’d been able to tell me that—if he’d been able to tell me
anything
—maybe we’d still be married. I doubt he trusts me any more now than he did then. I’m the
press
. Never forget that.”

“Cilla, speaking of that, you won’t blab about anything Dani said, will you?”

“Blab? Of course not. I wouldn’t do that to her or to you.”

“Good. Because I don’t want her hurt. I’d never forgive you if—”

“Trust me, Michael. Please? Trust me.” She wouldn’t write about Danica; she wouldn’t gossip. What she
would
do, she vowed, was to keep her eyes and ears open. There was a better than even chance that at one point or another she would run into Blake Lindsay. And she had every intention of finding out why a guy as good-looking and as successful as he was would all but abandon his lovely, lonely, pregnant wife.

During the next few weeks, Michael and Danica were very careful. While neither could not not see the other, they kept just enough distance between them to preclude a repeat of what had happened on her doorstep that night. They biked together, ate out from time to time, sat on the beach at sunset talking about a book, a
TV
documentary or some aspect of Michael’s work that troubled him. For his part, he enjoyed running things past Danica. Often she was able to summarize a thought or a theory more succinctly than he could, given his closeness to the subject matter. For her part, she was intrigued by his work, by the intense research he had done, by the different slant he was trying to convey. Now that he knew about her tennis involvement, she felt comfortable discussing sports, thought when he popped over one day suggesting that they play a game or two on the local court, she refused. He tried to talk her into it, and to her surprise, she nearly yielded. But she needed more time; thoughts of tennis still evoked vivid memories of drudgery, and exhaustion, and failure. In the end, they agreed to put it off for another time. Michael was determined to get her playing one day, though. He felt that it would be good for her, that she had to face the past in order to finally accept it. Moreover, he knew she had loved tennis once, and he desperately wanted her to share that love with him.

During the second week of August Danica drove back to Boston to see the doctor as ordered on a monthly basis. His report was good, and that pleased her. What didn’t please her was the fact that Blake wasn’t there. He had left several days earlier to spend time in Washington before going on to the convention in St. Louis. It hurt her that he hadn’t wanted to meet her doctor, much less ask him questions that most prospective fathers would have. While Danica had read any number of books on the subject of pregnancy and childbirth since her pregnancy had been confirmed, Blake, to her knowledge, had read nothing. When she asked him if he wasn’t even the slightest bit curious about what his child looked like at that moment or would look like a month, two, three months hence, he simply smiled that winning smile of his and said that nature would take its course whether he knew its intimate details or not. She realized then that it was her baby, literally and figuratively.

What bothered Danica most, though, was that during the two days she spent in the Beacon Hill town house, she missed Michael more than she did Blake. It was with relief that she finally returned to Maine and to the man whose excitement at seeing her again warmed her heart.

The convention began, and since she hadn’t wanted a television in her own house, she spent every evening watching the proceedings with Michael. She sensed a part of her future lay in the outcome, and she was tense. Though Michael did what he could to alleviate that tension, it was never more apparent than at the moment that Jason Claveling mustered enough votes to secure the nomination.

When the floor erupted with sign-waving and cheering, she closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.

“Well, that’s it,” Michael announced. “Looks like your men are going to be a happy lot tonight.”

“Are
you
pleased?” she returned. She would certainly classify him as one of “her men.”

“We could have done worse. Claveling’s the one who stands a good chance of unseating Picard, and I’m all for that.”

“
You
won’t be running around during the next three months trying to get the deed done.” She moaned. “And I thought the past three months were bad.”

Michael understood. He knew how much she resented the time Blake spent on the campaign. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as it’s been. The nomination was the hardest part, given four contenders. In a two-man race, things are simplified.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but you’re talking through your hat, Michael Buchanan. I’ve seen my father in situations like these. More accurately, I’ve read about him in the papers, which was about as close as I was able to get. If he’s busy under normal circumstances, during a campaign—be it his own or that of someone he’s supporting—he’s
doubly
busy. And this time around, Blake will be busy right with him.”

“Then that’s all the more time you’ll have for me,” Michael teased, eyes glinting in response to the scowl Danica threw him. “Come on, sweetheart, it won’t be so bad. I’ll keep you busy.”

They both knew she would be returning to Boston in September, but Michael was determined to make good on his word at least until then. When she remained mildly depressed over the next few days—in some part due to the blatantly hurried phone call she received from Blake upon his return from St. Louis—he set a date with the McCabes.

The Sunday they all spent together was a smashing success. Without any of the initial trepidation Danica had felt upon meeting the media-minded Cilla, she found Greta and Pat to be equally as likable. They were fun, unpretentious, and took great joy in relating stories of Michael in his younger days. The baby stole her heart. By the time she and Michael left with promises of a return engagement, Danica was looking forward all the more to having a child of her own.

Four days later, though, she wasn’t feeling quite as well. She had had an uncomfortable night and was dozing on the sofa when Michael rang the doorbell. Groggy, she pushed herself to a sitting position, then up to her feet. When she opened the door, Michael was quickly alarmed.

“What is it, Dani? Aren’t you feeling well?” She was wearing her long robe and looked frighteningly pale.

She grasped the doorknob and leaned against the door. “I didn’t sleep well. I’m sorry, Michael. Do you think we could drive to Freeport another time?”

“Of course. L.L. Bean isn’t going anywhere.” He took her arm and guided her back to the sofa. When she was seated, he propped a hip beside her. “Morning sickness?”

She shook her head. “I haven’t had any of that. I’ve really felt terrific until now.”

He put a hand on her forehead. “Maybe you have the flu. You feel warm.”

“I’ll be okay.” Slipping her legs behind him, she curled into the corner of the sofa. When she closed her eyes, Michael worried all the more.

“You didn’t get a call from Blake, did you?” That seemed a sure thing to upset her. But she shook her head. “From your parents?” Again she shook her head.

“I’ll be okay. I think I’ll just rest.”

It wasn’t like her, he knew. There was something she wasn’t saying. He gently rubbed her thigh. “Can I get you anything?”

“No. I’ll just lie here for a while.”

Michael studied her for a long time, then finally got up and wandered through the house. The sheets on her bed were in a tangle. He made the bed, then returned to living room to find her lying with her arms crossed over her stomach and her knees drawn up close. Sitting down by her side, he smoothed the hair from her cheeks. She opened her eyes, but she didn’t smile.

“What is it?” he pleaded. “I want to do
something
.”

“Just stay around,” she said. Her voice was as weak as the rest of her looked, he decided, and the knowledge added to his concern.

He spent the morning with a book in his lap, though he hardly read a word. His eyes wouldn’t focus on the open page but kept going to Danica’s face. By noontime she was looking more pale than ever.

“Maybe I should call a doctor,” he suggested quietly. He knew she wasn’t sleeping. She shifted from time to time, gingerly, he thought, and when her eyes weren’t closed they focused blindly on the rug, the coffee table, the glass slider.