“I'll see what I can do,” she said somberly. “I'll call you tomorrow … or the day after. If I'm still alive then.”
“I love you.” He was beaming, and praying she would do it. She would be perfect for both jobs. “Thanks, India. I'll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Just remember to feel guilty when they find my body dumped in the shopping mall in Westport.”
“Tell him to grow up and realize who he married. He can't keep you locked up forever.”
“No, but he's trying. I'll call you.” She stood in the kitchen for a long minute when she hung up, and realized she was actually shaking. She was terrified to say anything to Doug, but she was as excited about the assignments as Raoul was, particularly the tough one. But the wedding would be fun too. She was dying to do it. But how was she ever going to tell Doug? She sat down on a stool to think about it, and then headed out to the market.
She bought all the foods he liked best, and was going to make him a fabulous dinner that night. Even a little caviar. She was going to make all her specialties and his favorites, and serve him wine, and then they would talk …and he'd kill her. But at least she could try it.
Doug was thrilled when he came home that night, and saw what she was making. She had bought a Chateaubriand, and she was making his favorite pepper-corn-and-mustard sauce, baked potatoes, French-cut string beans, stuffed mushrooms, and smoked salmon with caviar to start with. And when he sat down to dinner with her and the kids, he felt like he'd died and gone to heaven.
“Did you smash the car up today, Mom?” Jason asked her casually, ladling sour cream into his baked potato.
“Of course not,” she said, looking startled by the question. “Why would you ask that?”
“It sure is a great dinner. I figured you'd done something that would make Dad mad. Really mad,” he corrected, glancing at the caviar.
“Don't be silly.” But he was very clever, more so than his father, who had no suspicions whatsoever. He was sitting comfortably in his favorite chair, looking lazy and sated after dinner. She had made chocolate mousse for dessert, with Mexican Wedding Cookies, his favorite. It was anything but subtle.
“What a dinner!” He smiled as she came to sit next to him in the living room after cleaning up. The kids were all upstairs doing homework. “What did I ever do to deserve that?”
“You married me,” she said, sitting on a little stool near his feet, and praying that the gods would be kind to her on this one. Just this once. Just one time. She was prepared to beg him. She was dying to go to London, even if it was over Thanksgiving.
“I guess I just got lucky,” he said, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his stomach.
“So did I,” she said sweetly. It was the friendliest exchange they'd had since the summer. But not without an ulterior motive this time. “Doug …” She looked up at him then, and in an instant he knew that it was a setup. There was blood lust in her eyes, and he couldn't help wondering what it would take to satisfy it.
“Uh-oh,” he laughed, still amused by it. “Was Jason right? Did you smash up the car, or someone else's?”
“My driving record is intact, your insurance is unchallenged, and the car is in perfect order. You can check it.”
“Get arrested for shoplifting, maybe?”
“Now, there's a thought.” She decided to get it over with. She had to. And she had to call Raoul tomorrow, or the next day. “I got a call today,” she confessed.
“From whom?” He knitted his brows as he listened. It was like asking her father if she could go on a date at fourteen, only ten times harder and more scary. A hundred times maybe. She knew only too well how Doug felt about this.
“Raoul,” she said simply.
“Not that again.” He sat up in his chair and glared down at her on the footstool.
“Just listen. It's the most civilized job they have ever offered me, and they wanted a ‘lady’ to do it.” She had already decided not to tell him about the prostitution ring in the West End. He would never let her do that, even if it was in London. But maybe the wedding …”Someone terribly important is marrying into the British Royal Family, and they want someone to cover it. All the heads of state will be there, and the crowned heads of Europe, and the President and First Lady….”
“And you won't be,” he said firmly. “They can get any photographer to do that.”
“But they want me, or Raoul does. Doug …please … I'd love to do it.”
“I thought we already went through this. How often are we going to have to fight this battle, India? This is why I told you to get your name off his roster. He's just going to keep calling. Stop torturing me over it, and yourself. You have kids …you have responsibilities …you just can't run out the door and forget about that.”
“Doug, we are talking about a week. One week. That's all. The kids are not going to commit suicide because I'm not here on Thanksgiving.” And with that, she looked panicked as she said it. She hadn't meant to tell him that part until later. But it was all out now, at least as much as she was going to tell him.
“I can't believe this. You're asking me if you can leave us for Thanksgiving? What do you expect me to do, cook the turkey?”
“Take them to a restaurant. I'll make a real Thanksgiving dinner before I leave, the day before. They'll never know the difference.”
“Even if they don't, I will. You know what our agreement is. We went through all that this summer.”
“I know. But this is important to me. I need to do it.”
“Then maybe you don't need to be married, or have children. I'm not going to put up with a wife who isn't here for Thanksgiving. You might as well go to a war zone if you're going to do that.”
“At least I'll be safe at the wedding.”
“Unless terrorists bomb it, like they did your friend's plane. Now, there's a thought. Are you willing to take that risk?” He was willing to push every button he had to.
“I could just stay home in bed for the rest of my life too. Why not do that? I mean, hell, Doug, the Russians could bomb Westport, if they ever get their shit together.”
“Why not just get your shit together, India, and grow up finally? All that crap is behind you, or at least it should be.”
“Well, it isn't. It's still part of me, and it always will be. You have to understand that.”
“I don't have to do anything,” he said, sounding angry as he stood up, and left her sitting on the footstool. “I'm not going to agree to this. If you want to go anyway, that's your business. But don't expect to stay married to me, if you do it.”
“Thanks, Doug, for making the choices so clear to me,” she said, standing up and looking at him squarely. “You know what? I'm not going to let you bully me anymore, or blackmail me. This is who I am, who you married. You can lay down all the rules you want, but you can't threaten me,” she said calmly, with no idea where the words had come from. But suddenly she knew exactly what she was doing, and where she was going. To London. “I'm going to go over there and do this story. I'm going to stay for a week, and then I'm going to come back and take care of our kids, just like I always do, and you, for that matter. And you know what? We'll survive it. You can't tell me what to do anymore, Doug. It's not fair. And I won't let you.”
He listened to her without saying a word, and she was shaking as she faced him. And then he turned and walked up the stairs and she heard the bedroom door slam. But she had done it. She had dared to reach out and grab what she wanted. She had never done it before, not with him, and she was terrified, and she felt fantastic. She realized now that he had been doing this to her for years. It was his ultimatum that had brought her back from Asia seventeen years before, to marry him. He had told her in no uncertain terms that if she didn't, she'd lose him. And because she'd lost her father when she was young, she thought that the worst thing that could happen to her was to lose Doug. But what she'd discovered seventeen years later was that it was actually worse losing herself, and she had almost done
that. She didn't believe she'd lose him now, and if she did, she'd face it. But she hoped not.
She waited awhile to go upstairs, and when she did, he was in bed, with the lights off. But she couldn't hear him snoring.
“Are you awake?” she whispered, and there was no answer, but she could sense that he was, and she found she was right as she approached him. She stood at the foot of the bed in the dark, and saw him stir, but he still said nothing. “I'm sorry it had to be this way, Doug. I would have liked it better if you agreed to let me go. I love you very much …but I have to do this … for myself. It's hard to explain that.” It wasn't, actually, but it was impossible for him to understand it. He wanted to lay down the law and threaten her over it. That had always been his power over her, that and the terror that she'd lose him. But she couldn't stay frightened forever. “I love you, Doug,” she said again, as though to reassure him and herself. But there was no answer. And a moment later, she went into the bathroom to take a shower. And she stood there with the warm water running down her back and a smile on her face, seemingly forever. She had done it!
Chapter 15
SHE MADE Thanksgiving dinner for them, just as she had promised, the night before Thanksgiving. It was the perfect meal, and they looked like the perfect family, except that Doug scowled most of the way through dinner. It was no secret to anyone how he felt about her leaving.
She had told the children herself, and after the initial shock, they were all excited for her, especially the girls, who thought covering the wedding sounded terrific. Neither of the boys cared much. But none of them had the reaction that Doug had thought they would about it. None of them felt abandoned or angry, or as though she was never coming back, as she had when her father went to Vietnam for six months, or equally terrifying places before that. This was pretty tame, and they all understood that. They were disappointed she wouldn't be there for Thanksgiving with them, but once they knew she was going to make a real Thanksgiving dinner for them, they were perfectly happy, contrary to Doug's predictions.
She was leaving for London on the morning of Thanksgiving, and Doug and the children were going to have yet another Thanksgiving dinner with friends in Greenwich, since neither Doug nor India still had living parents. She realized now too that it was why she was so dependent on him, and his approval. Other than the children, she had no one else.
The children devoured everything in sight, and Jason said it was the best dinner she'd ever made, and she thanked him. And afterward, they all sat in the living room and watched movies, as India and Jessica cleaned up the kitchen. And she sent Jessica to join the others when Doug came in to talk to her. He was looking angrier by the minute.
“Aren't you embarrassed to turn them into orphans for the holidays?” he asked pointedly, still trying to make her feel guilty.
“They're not orphans, Doug. They have a mother who works occasionally, and they seem to understand it a lot better than you do.”
“Tell me that when they start flunking out of school, as a way of expressing their displeasure.”
“I don't think that is going to happen,” India said firmly.
Gail had promised to pick up her car pools for her, and the sitter she used most frequently was coming to the house every day from three o'clock until after dinner, and Jessica had promised to help her with the cooking. Everything was in order, and she had left six pages of neat instructions. The only problem was her husband. But India had never felt stronger about anything in her life. Paul had called her that week and had told her he was proud of her, and she had promised to call him from London. The Sea Star was in Turkey. And he said he would be anxious to hear from her.
“You're going to have to reckon with me when you get back, India.” Doug threatened her again, as he had for weeks. He seemed to have no hesitation, and no shame, about doing that to her. But she refused to listen. She wasn't even sure what had finally changed, but she knew she couldn't live in a box anymore, the one he had built for her fourteen years before allowed her no wingspread. She knew better than anyone that she had to do this. No matter what it cost her. Not doing it would cost her even more. And now she understood that. And Raoul had been ecstatic when she called him. They were paying her a decent sum, though nothing fabulous, and she was going to use it to do something nice with the children, maybe take a trip somewhere, or go skiing after Christmas. And of course she wanted Doug to join them, if he was willing. So far he said he wasn't.
She let the children stay up late, since it was a holiday, and in the morning, before she left, she went into each of their bedrooms. They were all asleep, but they stirred as she leaned down to kiss them, and the general consensus was “Have a good time, Mom,” as she promised to call them. She had given each of them the name of her hotel, and her number. And it was pinned up in the kitchen. She had left everything organized to perfection. And she was startled at how easy it all was, and how smoothly it had gone. The only problem was her husband.
She walked back into their bedroom to say good-bye to him, and he glared at her. He had been awake since she got up, but pretended he wasn't. But now he just sat there, and they both knew he had lost some of his power to terrify her and make her do what he wanted. It was not a change he welcomed.
“I'll call you as often as I can, I promise,” she said as though to a child, he looked like one as he sat there and watched her, and made no move to come toward her.
“Don't bother,” he said curtly. “I have nothing to say to you until you get back.” He looked as though he meant it.
“And then what? You throw me out in the snow? Come on, Doug, be a good sport about it. Please? Wish me luck. I haven't done this in years …it's exciting for me.” But he wasn't happy for her. He looked irreversibly angry. And he wanted her to be frightened of the repercussions.
She still was, but not enough to turn down the assignment. He had finally pushed her too far. “I love you, Doug,” she said simply, as she walked out of the room. She did love him, but she wondered if he loved her. He didn't answer her, and she walked down the stairs with her camera equipment neatly packed in a bag over her shoulder. The bag had been her father's. And she picked up her suitcase and went out to the shuttle waiting to take her to the airport.
It was a short ride, they stopped to pick several people up, and for the first time in years she felt independent. It was the first time she had gone anywhere without her children, and the feeling of freedom was overwhelming.
After she checked in at the airport, she walked around the terminal and bought some magazines, and then she called Raoul to see if he had any last instructions. He told her he'd fax her if he had any new information about the second story, but other than that, he had nothing. And then she boarded the plane, and headed for London. She was due in at nine o'clock that night, and she was going to be picked up and taken to a ball the Queen was giving for the couple in the Painted Hall at the Royal Naval Academy in Greenwich. She had brought a long velvet skirt, a velvet blouse, and a string of pearls, and she was going to change in the limousine on the way in from the airport. It was more than a little different from her old assignments, but she could hardly wait to get there.
She read and slept on the flight, and ate a little dinner, and she looked out the window for a while, thinking about the children she had left, who had been the boundaries of her life for so long. She knew she'd miss them, but she knew that they'd be fine for the short time she'd be gone. And then she thought about Doug, and the things he had said to her, the power he had wielded over her for so long, and the reasons he'd done it. It seemed so unfair, and so unnecessary, and now when she thought about it, she wasn't angry, but sad. If he had let her go graciously, or let her grow over the years, it would have been so much kinder. But all Doug wanted was to control her, to make her do what he wanted. And thinking about it was depressing.
She was dozing when they landed at Heathrow, and then the excitement began in earnest, along with the realization that she had spread her wings at las
t and done something she wanted, not because it was good for someone else, or she was expected to, but because it was what she wanted to do. She almost crowed with delight as they landed. She hadn't been in London in years, and she could hardly wait to see it. And what better way to do it?
The driver they had promised her was waiting just outside Customs, and he drove into town as quickly as he could, while she changed her clothes in the backseat and combed her hair as neatly as possible under the circumstances. She felt a little more disorganized than she wanted to, but when she looked in the mirror, she decided she would pass inspection. And she wasn't here to look beautiful, she was here to take photographs. No one was going to care what she looked like.
As they approached the Royal Naval Academy, she saw that there were cadets outside in formal uniforms, holding antique muskets and rifles, and they stood at attention as guests came in and out, and the surroundings were very impressive. The buildings framed an enormous square of lawn, and the domed chapel was built in 1779.
She took a couple of quick shots of the outside, and hurried inside to the party. And as she came up the steps, she looked up and saw the extraordinary paintings all around and on the ceiling. It was a cross between Versailles and the Sistine Chapel. And there were at least four hundred people dancing, and almost the moment she walked in, she began shooting. It was easy to spot her subjects. Prince Charles, the queens of the Netherlands, Denmark, and Norway. She recognized all of them, as well as the President of France, several Crown Princes, and then she saw Queen Elizabeth in the distance, surrounded by guards, and chatting easily with the Prime Minister, and the President and the First Lady. She had had to show her pass when she entered, but she slipped it into her pocket after that, and spent the next four hours gliding discreetly from one group to the other. And at two A.M., when the party broke up, she knew she had gotten what she'd come for. It was the same warm feeling she'd had years before when she knew she got her story, although this time her subjects couldn't have been more different.
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