Miracle

by Danielle Steel

  “It'll be a long time till I graduate. I may be a hundred years old by then, but I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it at night and take as many units as I can. I'll have to keep working. And”—he hesitated for a beat— “Michelle and I just got engaged. We're going to get married at Christmas.”

  “Good lord, you have been busy. When did that happen?” Quinn looked genuinely amazed, and was sorry to give up the dream of Jack running away with him. It would have been like having a son on board. But he respected Jack's right to pursue his own dreams.

  “It happened this week, while you were in Holland.”

  “Well, in that case, congratulations.” He stuck out a hand and shook Jack's, but he felt a loss suddenly, as though his son were leaving home and not only going off to college, but getting married. It was a double header, and he could see now that there was no hope that Jack would join him. But Quinn was gracious about it, and as the two men walked back to join the women, Quinn looked sadly at Maggie. She hadn't known what Quinn was going to ask him, but she suspected, and she could see in his eyes that it hadn't gone the way Quinn wanted.

  “The third musketeer in our Friday night dinner club has some important announcements to share with us,” he said grandly, covering the dismay he felt with a jovial demeanor, as he poured champagne for the four of them. “Jack is not only going to college,” he told Maggie as she listened with affectionate interest, “he's going to State in the fall. But he and Michelle are getting married at Christmas.” Jack's young fiancée blushed the moment Quinn said it, and Maggie gave an exclamation of pleasure. She kissed Jack first for his accomplishments, and then both of them for their engagement. And Quinn cheered up after another glass of champagne and a brandy. The young couple stayed until one o'clock and then left. Quinn looked sad when they went to bed that night. Maggie had already understood what was behind it.

  “You wanted to take him on as crew, didn't you?” she asked gently, as Quinn came to bed in his pajamas.

  “How did you know?” He looked at her in surprise, and then lay back against his pillow.

  “I know you. I wondered if you might. He would have been good at it, but you've given him a life, you know. What he's doing will be wonderful for him when he's finished. You've given him what he needed to have a better life than he ever would have had before you met him. Better even than sailing.” She smiled at Quinn, and had never loved him more than at that moment. She loved his vulnerability and his generosity, and his relentlessly kind spirit. In another life, it was not the way people would have described him. But this was the man she knew and had come to love, the same one who had been Jack's mentor. Not the one his former business partners had known, or even the man Jane had known, or whom his daughter hated. Quinn, as he was now, was governed by his heart, and in spite of his immense power and strength, he had been humbled, and as a result, he was even bigger than he had been. “Are you very disappointed?” she asked him.

  “Selfishly, I suppose I am, but I'm glad too. I think college will be good for him. What about Michelle? Do you like her?”

  “She's very sweet, and she adores him.” She had seemed very young to Maggie, but so was Jack in his own way. They shared a certain innocence and naïveté, and she suspected, or at least hoped, that they'd be happy.

  “It takes more than that,” Quinn said wisely. “It takes so much more than that to be married.” He had a profound respect now for the job he felt he had done so badly as a husband. He was his own worst critic.

  “Maybe it doesn't,” Maggie said kindly. “Maybe in the beginning all you have to do is trust yourself, and each other.”

  “I know myself far too well to ever trust myself again,” he said, as he rolled over on his side and looked at her. “I trust you, though, Maggie.” The way he looked at her, she was deeply touched when he said it.

  “You're right to trust me. And I trust you, Quinn. Completely.” All he could think of as she said it was that he wanted to tell her not to.

  “I'm not sure that's wise of you. What if I hurt you?” He already knew he would, when he left her. But she had entered into the relationship willingly, knowing what the ground rules were, and what the final outcome would be.

  “I don't think you will hurt me,” she said honestly, “not intentionally. I'll be sad when you go, very sad. I know that. But that's different than your hurting me. You haven't lied to me, you haven't misrepresented who you are, or anything else that I know of. Those are the things that hurt people. The rest are accidents of life that no one can foresee or prevent. What you do about them is what matters. There are no guarantees between two people, Quinn. You can only do the best you can.” What was killing him, and eating him up inside, was that he didn't think he had. There was no changing that now, no turning back the clock. Jane had done her best. And Maggie had, he knew from all he knew of her. But he hadn't. And Maggie's husband hadn't. And all Quinn could do was live with it now. He could never erase the pain he'd caused those who loved him. And he didn't want Maggie to be another casualty to him, even if she was willing. He wanted more than that for her, even if it meant protecting her from himself. He didn't think that he deserved her love. Nor did he feel he had deserved Jane's. Her journals, and the pain he'd read in them, were ample proof of that. “Don't be so hard on yourself,” Maggie said, as she cuddled up to him in the dark.

  “Why not? Don't be so generous with me,” he said sadly. He was sad that Jack wasn't coming with him. Sad that he was leaving her. For all the joy he knew his boat would give him, he knew that it was not a sign of victory, but of defeat, when he finally sailed off. He knew he had failed to give Jane the best he could, and in a way, he was doing it again with Maggie. She was willing to settle for the brief time they had to share. And she was doing what he had asked her to do, to love him for a time, and then out of still more love for him, to let him go. It was the ultimate act of love, and she was willing to give him that too. He knew it was a lot to ask. In all fairness, probably too much.

  “I love you, Quinn,” she whispered, as she looked up at him. There was a thin sliver of moonlight that had stolen into the room, and she could see his face clearly, etched against the darkness around them. He lay silently next to her for a long time, and held her close to him. He wanted to say the same words to her, because he felt them in his heart, and he wanted to give them back to her. But the words he wanted to say to her were lodged tightly in his throat, and were unable to reach his mouth. And as he held her, and felt her hair on his cheek, there was a tear in the corner of his eye that slid slowly down his cheek.

  12

  JULY AND AUGUST WERE IDYLLIC FOR THEM. QUINN HAD finished most of his work on Jane's estate. He had gone through almost everything in the house, sorted it, packed it, and sent several things to Sotheby's in New York for auction. He had called Alex in Geneva several times, and asked her which pieces of furniture she wanted. She asked for only a few favorites, and a portrait of her mother, and asked him to store the rest. She said they didn't have enough room in their house for more at the moment. Each time he called, she hung up as quickly as she could. Once their business transactions were complete, she was always in a hurry to get off the phone. Quinn hadn't seen her in more than a year, since her mother's funeral, and he talked to Maggie about it one day, when they were lying on the boat, enjoying the summer sun and a late afternoon sail. They were spending most of their time on the boat these days. And Jack still came to have dinner with them every Friday night. He didn't bring Michelle with him when he came, he liked being with Quinn and Maggie on his own. But he said he was happy with her, and she was a good sport about his weekly night out with his buddies.

  “What am I going to do about her?” Quinn asked Maggie about Alex. “I can't get through to her at all. She completely shut me out.” He told her about the calls regarding the furniture. Once she had answered his questions, Alex thanked him for the call, and hung up as quickly as she could get off the phone.

  “She'll think about it one day. Ma
ybe when something happens to her, or something frightens her. She can't shut you out forever, Quinn, she's your daughter. She needs you, as much as you need her.”

  “No, she doesn't,” he said, looking worried. It was yet another failure on his part, to Jane. He knew she would have been devastated to know how estranged they were especially after her death. “She has her husband and her sons. She doesn't need me.”

  “She's punishing you. She can't do that forever. One of these days she'll see who you really were, and even if you weren't there for her all the time, she may finally understand why you weren't.”

  “I'm not even sure I understand why myself. I was running all the time in those days. I thought I was building something, and I was. It was more important to me than my kids, or Jane. My priorities were all screwed up. The only thing I cared about was the empire I was building, the money I'd made, and the next deal on the table. I didn't know it then, but I entirely missed the point.” As he said it, he thought of Doug and Jane, and how swiftly life changes, and opportunities are lost forever. He finally understood that, too late.

  “A lot of men do that, Quinn,” Maggie said compassionately, and for an odd moment, he wished he had been married to her then, and not Jane. He felt instantly guilty for the thought, but Jane had become a victim to him. After all she had suffered, Maggie had greater insight into him, and understood far more even than he did. She was a very different woman from the one he'd had. “You're not the only one who's done what you did. Wives leave men because of it sometimes, children get angry. People feel cheated by what they didn't get. What they don't see is what they did have, and that it was the best the man could do at the time. You can't do it all, or be perfect for all those you love. There are women who do the same thing these days, focus on their careers and shortchange their families. It's hard to keep that many balls in the air.” But the ones he had dropped were the people he had loved. He knew that now. But he also knew that he had understood it far too late. “Why don't you invite Alex to come to the boat in Holland?”

  “She hates boats,” he said glumly, as he lay with his eyes closed, stroking Maggie's hair, as she lay with her head on his chest.

  “What about her boys?”

  “They're too young. They're seven and ten, and she'd never trust me with them. Besides, I was never around for my kids at that age. How would I know what to do with a couple of kids that age on the boat?” The idea sounded crazy to him.

  “I'll bet you'd have a lot of fun with them. They're just the right age to teach them about sailing. And on a boat the size of Vol de Nuit, they'd be perfectly safe. Even Alex couldn't object. The crew could help you take care of them, if you asked them to. They'd have a ball. Why don't you offer to take them on the sea trials?” He thought about it, but couldn't imagine his daughter agreeing to it, particularly after their history with Doug. Sailboats were anathema to her, but Maggie was right, of course. On a boat the size of Vol de Nuit, the boys would be in no danger whatsoever, unless they jumped off while the boat was under sail, which he knew they wouldn't. They were sensible and well-behaved.

  “I'll think about it,” he said vaguely and then turned on his side so he could kiss Maggie. “You're awfully good to me,” he whispered to her, as he thought of making love to her that morning. The relationship they were developing was as smooth and warm, and spicy at times, as Maggie herself was. She was an extraordinary combination of all the things a man could want. And in the privacy of the room they shared, she inspired a passion in him that he had never known before. He was falling more and more in love with her, and yet he could never bring himself to say the words to her.

  They invited Jack and Michelle on the boat for a weekend, and they sailed down the coast toward Santa Barbara. The sea was rough, and Maggie liked it that way. It seemed more exciting to her, but Michelle got seasick on the way back, and Jack apologized to Quinn for what a poor sailor she was. She still looked embarrassed when they left.

  “Poor kid,” Maggie said to Quinn as they sat down to dinner that night. “She's a nice girl.” But she seemed very young to both of them, and Quinn was worried that she wasn't bright enough for Jack. “She'll be good for him,” Maggie kept reassuring him. She could see something in her that Quinn obviously didn't. He still wished that Jack would sail on Vol de Nuit with him. He thought it would be the most exciting experience of his life. But Jack didn't want excitement, he wanted roots and stability and a family, and an education, all the things he'd never had, and were within his grasp now, in great part thanks to Quinn. “You've given him something much better than a cruise around the world. You've given him a shot at his dreams. No one else could have done that for him.”

  “All I did was teach him to read. Anyone could have done that,” Quinn said modestly, but she shook her head.

  “The point is, no one did.” Quinn just shook his head, but he was glad that things had turned out as well as they had. It was a bond he knew they would always share. And he never forgot that it was Jack who had brought Maggie into his life. She had looked so shy and sad and scared the first time she had walked into his kitchen. And now she was flourishing, and enjoying sailing with him. He knew she was sad about her son at times, but she no longer had that look of agony in her eyes that she had had when they first met the morning after the big storm.

  “That was a lucky storm for me,” he said to her, when he thought about it one day. “It blew a hole in my roof, and swept you right in.”

  “It was even luckier for me,” she said, as she kissed him.

  He had had more affection from her in the past few months than he had ever dreamed of. He had had a very different relationship with Jane. Theirs had been a bond of respect and loyalty, quiet companionship when they were together, deep affection, and Jane's endless patience. What he shared with Maggie was younger and more joyful, and far more passionate, just as Maggie was herself.

  The last days of August were better than ever for them. They sailed almost constantly. And they seemed to get closer to each other with each passing day, perhaps because they knew that their final days were coming. Rather than pulling away from each other, Maggie seemed to love him with greater abandon every day, and Quinn could feel himself drifting closer and closer to her, and he no longer felt any desire to resist it. He felt safer with her than he ever had with anyone in his life. It was as though he knew deep in his heart that he could trust her in every way. And in the past month or two, his recurring dream had finally, mercifully, gone away. He still missed Jane, but differently. He felt more at peace now.

  He only left Maggie when the movers came to pack up his house. He was sending whatever was left to storage. He had already sent Alex's things to her, and he was taking several suitcases of clothes and papers with him when he went to Holland for the sea trials in September. And once the house was empty, he was planning to stay on the Molly B until he left. It was a strange feeling watching the movers empty the house. He felt a pang every time he saw some familiar favorite piece loaded onto the truck. It was as though they were taking away the landmarks of his life. And when the house was finally empty, he stood looking around, and felt a terrible ache in his heart.

  “Good-bye, Jane,” he said out loud and heard his voice echo in the empty room where she had died. It was as though he were leaving her there, and for the first time in fourteen months, he felt as though he were leaving her behind. He looked somber when he met Maggie back on the boat again that night.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him gently, with a look of concern. He nodded, but scarcely spoke to her until after dinner that night. He was essentially living with her on the sailboat he had chartered. He would never have been as comfortable with her in his own house. He had always felt it was Jane's. And he tried to explain to her what an odd feeling it had been to watch all their belongings being taken away, and standing alone in the empty house.

  “I felt that way when I moved out of the house where Andrew died. I felt as though I was leaving him there, and I hate
d it. I just stood there with the movers and cried. But afterward I was glad I moved to the house on Vallejo. I would never have recovered there. Charles and I had lived there. Andrew had died there. It was just too much to survive day after day. It will do you good to be on the boat,” she said generously. She had still never objected to his leaving, and Quinn was impressed. She had lived up to everything she had promised. He was only sorry that he couldn't take her with him on the sea trials. He was leaving right after Labor Day, and she was going back to work the day after he left for Holland. He was coming back to San Francisco for a brief two weeks after that. And even the day before he left, he still hadn't decided what to do about Alex. Maggie kept insisting he should call her, but he hadn't. It was as though he was afraid to. It was only that night, just before they went to bed, that he sat down at his desk and called her. It was morning in Geneva.

  “I got the furniture,” she said matter-of-factly as soon as she heard her father's voice. “Thank you very much. It all arrived in good order. It must have cost a fortune to ship it.” He had sent it air freight.

  “Your mother would have wanted you to have it,” he assured her. But at the mention of Jane, he could hear Alex stiffen.

  “I'm happy to have her portrait,” Alex mused and then she thought of something. “Where are you living?” He had just told her that everything had gone to storage. He had wanted to do it before he left for the sea trials. He wanted to spend his last two weeks in town peacefully with Maggie, without worrying about final details. And he had agreed to turn over the house to the new owners two weeks early.