One Final Step

by Stephanie Doyle

  “Then you need to give her a reason to come back. You need to prove to her how much you love her, because you do love her. I know it. It made me really proud. It’s why I was running my mouth in the first place. All this time after prison and you were finally ready to move on with your life.”

  Michael balked at the idea. “What are you talking about? I moved on with my life. I became famous, hell, I became rich.”

  “Famous and rich didn’t make you smile like she made you smile. And that’s what I wanted for you.”

  Michael looked at the old man. He had never told Archie what had happened to him in prison, but the old man must have known there was always a lingering pain there. Something Michael had never been able to shake until he met Madeleine.

  “I don’t know what to do.” That was the truth and it made him feel helpless. Impotent in a profoundly different way.

  “You’ll figure something out. You’re a smart guy. All you need is a big gesture.”

  A big gesture. Something that would show Madeleine how much he loved her and make her come back to him. Michael thought about the television crew that was coming back to his place later this afternoon. Yesterday, he’d taken them out to his Pimp Garage to show off the car and explain the various features. Blakely had been there and he’d been asked a few questions about their partnership.

  Today they were coming back to interview him exclusively. One-on-one with TV journalist Lynn Connelly.

  Of course, he had an idea of what he would say and a general sense of what questions would be asked. Could he find a way to work in a big gesture during the interview? Maybe he should get down on his knees in front of the camera and beg her to come back.

  He didn’t imagine Madeleine would appreciate that kind of gesture. Too much attention.

  Still, maybe all hope wasn’t lost.

  “All right, I’ll think about it. In the meantime let’s get these cars done.”

  Archie nodded. “You got it, kid. Hey, you and me working on cars together. Like old times.”

  Yeah, Michael thought. Like old times. And for the first time when looking back at his life he could see those old times weren’t all bad times. He had Madeleine to thank for that realization.

  * * *

  A BUZZ AT the gate rang out and the sound startled Madeleine. She’d only been home for a few days and the sound was the first disturbance she’d had. And no one ever buzzed her gate. Because no one ever visited her here. Only Michael had…

  Michael!

  Getting up from her office, where she’d been mildly pretending to work, she ran to the foyer near the front door and hit the button that opened the gate.

  She didn’t bother to ask who it was because a strong part of her didn’t want to be disappointed if it wasn’t Michael’s voice she heard through the intercom.

  He’d come for her. He’d decided he was miserable without her and he would ask her to come back with him.

  Which you can’t do. You left him for a reason, remember?

  The reality of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. She’d left him. She’d told him she wasn’t strong enough to be with him. Why would he ever in a million years come for her? Opening the front door, she was no longer surprised to see it wasn’t Michael getting out of the small, efficient car.

  Anna walked up the steps to where Madeleine was waiting by the front door.

  “Wow. You look as bad as I feel,” Anna said by way of greeting.

  “I don’t know. I feel pretty bad, too.”

  Anna pulled a bag out of her purse. It was a monster-size bag of peanut M&M’s. “I find carrying chocolate with me wherever I go helps with the worst of the symptoms.”

  “Chocolate. I didn’t think of that.”

  “Can I come in?”

  Madeleine stepped back and, for the second time in as little as a month, let someone into her home. Maybe she was making progress, after all.

  Anna looked around the place with the natural curiosity of someone who was fitting the pieces to the person.

  “You want a drink?” Madeleine asked.

  “Like tea?”

  “Like straight vodka,” she said, only partially kidding. When she first got back from Detroit she’d tried that approach. She’d found a bottle of Black Label scotch a client had given her as a gift and let herself get blisteringly drunk.

  The next morning she’d woken with the same heartache plus a massive headache. So it wasn’t worth it to repeat the experience. Still, there was always a second chance.

  “Thanks, but I’ve found that doesn’t help.”

  “I guess you’re right. Okay, let’s do tea. Will you share your M&M’s?”

  “With you? Of course.”

  The two women made their way back to the kitchen. Madeleine made them tea while Anna found a bowl for the M&M’s and poured them in. They sat at Madeleine’s kitchen table and shamelessly ate M after M.

  “I wasn’t sure if you wanted company or not,” Anna said. “I heard from Greg you were back in town and working. I figured that wasn’t a good thing.”

  Greg Chalmers was another member of the Tyler Group. A formally trained psychologist, his skills included being able to detect when people were lying. An invaluable asset in corporate negotiations. “You were talking to Greg. Does that mean…?”

  “No,” Anna said, holding her hand up to stop Madeleine’s hope. “I’m not coming back. I ran into him in the city. I’ve actually already found another job.”

  “Anna, have you considered talking to him? Telling him how you feel? I know what you told me he said, but you should see him. He’s a wreck. I think part of that has to do with losing you.”

  “You’re kidding yourself. If he’s a wreck it’s because he’s coming off some pretty intense chemotherapy.” She paused then and it was like the words were pulled out of her mouth. “How is he doing? Physically, I mean. Any signs of rejection?”

  “He knows you tried to call the hospital.”

  Anna snorted. “Yeah, and that jackass had the nerve to take me off the list of people who had access to his information. I was only allowed to know his status. He knew what that would do to me.”

  “He said, and I quote, ‘If Anna wants to know how I’m doing let her come down here and ask me herself.’”

  “I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Now, tell me…how is he?”

  “No signs of rejection. The cancer appears to be in remission. He’s tired and cranky when I call him, but it looks like he’s starting to eat again. And truly, I think he does miss you. You can’t tell me after years of friendship that it can be over like this. Without at least talking about it.”

  Anna sipped her tea. “I’ve got some…stuff…going on. Not really sure how it’s going to pan out, but if it does we’ll eventually need to have a conversation. But I don’t believe it’s going to change anything. Ben is nothing if not stubborn.”

  “I guess you’re right. Who am I to talk about this, anyway? Look at me, sitting here, once again in my solitary house eating M&M’s and feeling like crud.”

  “What happened?”

  “I guess you know about me and Michael.”

  “Ben said you were taking a vacation. That’s all I needed to know about you and Michael. But I also saw the picture.”

  The picture. Yes, as predicted it had hit most of the rag newspapers. Madeleine had seen it while in the grocery-store checkout line and had immediately abandoned her basket of food and run home.

  But then she went back the next day and while it was still there, she realized no one was pointing at her. No one was looking at it, then at her. No one even seemed to realize it was there. It was a blurry picture in the corner with the headline Playboy Langdon Seeks Presidential Conquest.

  All things considered, it could have been worse.

  “So what happened?”

  “I left him,” she said. It felt like the stupidest thing in the world to say. How could she do something as completely stupid as leave a man li
ke Michael Langdon?

  “Uh, I hate to break this to you, but if you do the leaving you’re not supposed to be the one who feels this bad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So go back.”

  It wasn’t as if Madeleine hadn’t thought about it. But she didn’t see how it was going to change anything. He would still want too much from her. Too much that she couldn’t give because she was too damn afraid all the time.

  “He deserves better.”

  “Seriously? You’re Madeleine Kane. You don’t get much better than that.”

  Anna’s certainty made her smile, but it also made her sad. “What if I told you the smart and confident Madeleine Kane you know is in fact a big fat fraud?”

  Anna studied her for a moment. “I wouldn’t believe it.”

  “It’s true. I’m weak and cowardly. I hate being both those things, but I can’t seem to find any other way to live. So I’m not worthy of Michael Langdon. He deserves someone who has more fight in her.”

  Anna sighed heavily. “Well, that sucks. You got any ice cream around this place?”

  “Yeah, maybe we can put the M&M’s in that.”

  “Now you’re talking like a girl with a broken heart.”

  Two weeks later

  MADELEINE SAT on her couch staring at a television that was most definitely turned off. It was airing tonight. His interview. She didn’t know if she could watch it. She was torn between the heartache of seeing him, hearing him, and the heartache of not hearing him, not seeing him. The former would take a huge toll on her emotionally, while the latter already was.

  To say she missed him was almost comical. She remembered after the scandal hit and how she’d missed her job and her friends and her father. All the things that had been lost to her.

  But losing Michael wasn’t filled with regret or sadness. It was like losing a limb.

  For weeks she’d done battle with herself.

  After Anna’s visit, she tried every day to think of how she might change. What she might do. One morning she actually felt as if she had the strength to go back, after all, because living without him was way harder than being afraid of what might happen if she was with him. She had even gone so far as to book a ticket to Detroit for the following day. Not really sure what she was going to say, but hoping she might figure it out when she saw him again.

  Then Madeleine went out to a drugstore to pick up a few items for her travel case and it happened. An older woman pulled out a copy of the magazine that still featured the picture of her and Michael. Madeleine stood behind her in the line with her face down, hoping the older woman didn’t connect the person standing behind her with the woman in the photo.

  She must not have, because instead, she turned to show Madeleine the picture as if they were both in agreement.

  “There’s that horrible woman again. Look how brazen of her to be running around town like that with another man. After what she did to the First Lady and her family!”

  Madeleine remembered mumbling something about having forgotten toothpaste and once again left the store with her head down. She’d gone home and canceled her flight and waited for the pain of missing him to subside—even a little bit.

  But it didn’t. It was with her when she slept because she could still remember what it was like to feel him sleeping in the bed beside her. And he was with her when she was awake because she could remember what it was like to share a meal across from him at her kitchen table. And laugh with him. And be with him. She shouldn’t have ever let him into her home.

  Or her heart.

  Now she was staring at a black screen wondering what he would say, what he would wear. She hadn’t prepped his outfit with him. She’d planned to do it that afternoon, after the breakfast where everything fell apart.

  Her tablet chimed and she picked it up off the coffee table. Ben wanted to talk. She accepted the call and saw his face pop on the screen. Even though they talked fairly regularly, she still hadn’t gone to see him at his home. She told herself she was following doctor’s orders by keeping him completely quarantined except for his nurse, but the truth was it was an effort for her to get out of her bed, let alone her house.

  She thought he looked good. Changing a little every day. His hair was completely gone, but his face showed some scruff as if he hadn’t shaved. And his cheeks looked fuller as if he was finally starting to put back on some of the weight he’d lost. She wondered if Anna had talked to him yet. She had said they might have to talk eventually and while Madeleine was curious about why, she hadn’t pushed. Anna was a lot like Ben in that regard. She was only ever going to tell you what she wanted you to know.

  “Hi.”

  “Are you watching this?”

  “No. I’m DVRing it. In case I want to watch it later.”

  “You should watch.”

  “Why? What’s he saying? Is he off script?” Madeleine’s hand reached for the remote control, but still she couldn’t make herself push the power button. “How does he look?”

  “Like a man who has lost something. You should watch.”

  “It’s too hard,” she said, looking away from the tablet to stare at the blank screen.

  “Madeleine, you’re disappointing me.”

  That had her head shooting up. “I’m sorry if my grief is bothersome to you.”

  “It’s not your grief that’s bothersome. It’s your cowardice. I know you to be a brilliant woman. I didn’t think you were a fearful one, as well.”

  It hurt, but could she refute it? Isn’t that exactly what she called herself? Weak and frightened. It made her sick. She was more disgusted with herself for being a coward than she was when she’d had sex with the president.

  “He’s a brave man, Michael Langdon. You could learn something from him.”

  “You’re not helping, Ben.”

  “This call wasn’t meant to help. Madeleine, I hate to be cliché so I can’t believe you’re making me be the one to tell you this. Life is too short for wasting time. You wasted time before I found you and you’re wasting it again. You’re not that stupid. Now, turn on the TV and watch from the beginning.”

  The call ended and Madeleine set the tablet down. Someday she was going to point out to Ben that he wasn’t the best at pep talks.

  The blank screen taunted her. What had Michael said? Why did Ben think she needed to watch?

  And what had he meant when he said Michael was brave?

  The only thing she could do was turn on the TV and watch. Could she be as brave?

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “LET’S TALK ABOUT your past.”

  They weren’t two minutes into the interview and Lynn Connelly, the TV reporter Peg had chosen to do the interview, was already getting to the hard stuff. The first few minutes had been a montage of Michael as a Formula One racer turned businessman. Then when the interview started Lynn had gotten him comfortable by asking some questions about his success as a race-car driver.

  Michael looked beautiful to Madeleine. He’d worn a deep blue sweater and dark gray slacks. Nothing flashy that hinted at the playboy he used to be. Instead he was the sound and successful businessman he’d become.

  “It’s a well-known fact you were arrested at nineteen for car theft and sentenced to three years in a state facility.”

  “It is.”

  “You served all three years of your sentence, which seems unusual for a first-time offender. No parole for good behavior?”

  It was a leading question. Madeleine could see it in the reporter’s eyes. Lynn was waiting for Michael to lie about the events that kept him in jail because she already knew about the assault. Damn it, she should have barred this line of questioning. She should have told Peg his past wasn’t something that was open for conversation. What did she care if it made him look like he was hiding something? He was selling a car, not himself.

  Stupid, so stupid of her, and now he might be walking into a trap.

  “I wasn’t particularly well behaved.”
<
br />   It was the answer he’d given her once. Such a casual dismissal of everything that had happened to him. Would it be enough for Lynn to accept it and move on? Please let it be enough. Madeleine held her breath.

  “The record shows that while you were in prison you were involved in a fight with another inmate.”

  “I was.”

  “Michael, you beat this man so severely he was in a coma for a time.”

  “I did.”

  Madeleine watched as Michael crossed and uncrossed his legs. He wants to pace, she thought. It’s probably killing him that he can’t move.

  “Is it something you can talk about?”

  “Can or will?”

  “Both.”

  The camera focused in on Michael exclusively and Madeleine could see it in his expression. There was a certain resolve there, like he was staring down the barrel of a gun and choosing not to step away.

  She was tempted to turn off the television, but her hands shook as she reached for the remote and then it was too late. He was already talking.

  “People hear stories about what happens to some men in prison. People even make jokes about it. Some use these awful stories to scare young punks who don’t know any better into going clean. All I can tell you is that some of those stories are real and horrific. I physically assaulted a man in retaliation to an act that was done to me. And while it did cost me two years of my life, I felt it was my only option at the time. And I think that’s all I can say about it.”

  Madeleine choked on a sob. Why? Why would he say it? On television in front of everyone, when she knew how long and how tight he’d held on to his secret.

  The screen filled with Lynn’s face, which was offering a sympathetic look.

  “While I can’t condone your actions, I can tell you I think it was certainly brave of you to come forward about it. Why talk about it now? After all this time?”

  “I’ve been holding on to the past for a long time. Or I should say, it’s been holding on to me. And when you let something like that control you, it builds these walls between you and everyone around you. I want to be done with it.”

  “Are you? Done with it?”