“What can I do?” Blake looked as helpless as he felt. Maxine was more used to this than he was, but it upset her too. There was such a huge need here, and so little at hand to fill it.
“Honestly? Not much. You're doing about as much as you can.” She knew he was pouring money and machinery into the rescue efforts, but by now they were finding only bodies, not survivors.
And then he shocked her with what he said next. “I want to take some of the kids home,” he said softly. It was a normal reaction. Others in similar circumstances had reacted that way before. But she knew that in situations like this, adopting orphans was not as simple as Blake may have thought.
“We all do,” she said quietly. “You can't take them all home.” The government was going to set up makeshift orphanages for them, and eventually feed them into their own system, and some might find their way into international agencies for adoption, but very few. Children like that usually stayed within their own countries and cultures. And most of the children around them were Muslims. They would be taken care of by their own. “The hardest part of this work is having to walk away. At some point, you've done all you can within the scope of your possibilities, and you have to go home. They stay.” It sounded harsh, but she knew that in most cases, that was true.
“That's my point,” he said sadly. “I can't do that. I feel like I owe something here. I can't just set up a pretty house, and show up with a bunch of fancy people now and then. I feel like I owe more than that, as a human being. You can't just take forever,” he said. It was a new discovery for him, and it had taken him a lifetime to get there.
“What about helping them right here, instead of trying to take them home? You could get caught up in red tape forever.”
He looked at her strangely then, as something occurred to him, which might make more sense in the long run. “What if I turn my house here into an orphanage? I could support, house, and even educate them. The house in Marrakech could probably house a hundred kids if we reconfigure it, and the last thing I need is another house. I don't know why I didn't think of it before.” He was smiling broadly, and there were tears in Maxine's eyes.
“Are you serious?” Maxine was stunned, and it sounded as though his plan might work. He had never done anything like it before. It was a totally selfless project, and a wonderful thing to do. And it was certainly feasible for him, if he wanted to do it. She was sure he could set the palace up as an orphanage, staff it, finance it, and change the lives of hundreds of orphaned children in the years to come. It would be a miracle for any one of those kids, and made far more sense than trying to adopt any of them himself. By turning over his house, setting it up properly, and financing the project he could help many, many more.
“Yes, I am serious,” he said, with his eyes boring into hers, and she was shocked at what she saw. Blake had grown up. He was finally an adult. There was no sign of Peter Pan, or the rogue.
“It's a fantastic idea,” she said with a look of admiration.
He looked excited about it, and she saw a light in his eyes she had never seen there before. She was very proud of him.
“Will you help me assess them as time goes on, as trauma victims? Kind of like a mini version of one of your studies. I want to get them whatever help I can. Psychiatric, medical, educational opportunities.”
“Sure,” she said softly. It was an amazing project. She was too moved to even tell him how impressed she was. And it would take her time and several visits to properly assess the situation for him.
They slept in the Jeep again that night, and she made rounds with him again all the next day. The children they saw were adorable and in such dire need that it made his idea of turning his house into an orphanage for some of them all the more poignant. And in the coming months, there would be much work to do. Blake had already called his architect that day, and was working on setting up meetings with government agencies to implement his plan.
She spent her last hour in the camp at the medical tent again. She had the feeling that she had done very little while she was there, but one always felt that way in situations like this. Blake walked her to the Jeep at the end of the day. He looked worn out. He had so much on his mind.
“When are you going back?” she asked him with a look of concern.
“I don't know. When they don't need me anymore. A few weeks, a month. I have a lot to organize here now.” They were going to need help for a long time, but eventually the worst of the crisis would be over, and he would go back to London, where Arabella was waiting patiently for him. He was so busy he had hardly had time to call her, but she was loving and adorable whenever he did. She told him how wonderful and what a hero he was and that she was in awe of him. And so was Maxine. She had been monumentally impressed by his efforts and plans for setting up an orphanage in his palace in Marrakech.
“Don't forget you have the boat for two weeks in July,” he reminded her. They both felt awkward talking about it here. A vacation on a superyacht seemed totally out of place in this context. She thanked him again for it. Charles would be joining them this time, albeit reluctantly, but she had insisted that it was one of their traditions, and the children would be upset if they didn't do it. And he was part of the family now. She said she didn't want to change anything for them just yet. It was too soon, and there was no room for them in his house in Vermont. “And don't forget the rehearsal dinner. I'll have my secretary call yours. I want to do something fabulous for you and Charles.” She was touched that he'd thought about it, especially now. And she was looking forward to meeting the famous Arabella. Maxine was sure that she was much nicer than Daphne was willing to admit.
She hugged Blake before she left and thanked him for the privilege of letting her come, and making it happen.
“Are you kidding? Thank you for coming all the way out here for three days to help me.”
“You're doing an incredible job, Blake,” she praised him. “I'm so proud of you, and the kids will be too. I can't wait to tell them what you're doing.”
“Don't tell them yet. I want to get it all set up first, and I have a lot to do before it happens.” It was going to be a huge amount of work, coordinating both the construction of the orphanage and finding the right people to run it. A mammoth job.
“Just take care of yourself, and don't get sick,” she reminded him. “Be careful.” They were going to start having epidemics of malaria, cholera, and typhoid soon.
“I will. I love you, Max. Take care of yourself, and kiss the kids for me.”
“I will. I love you too,” she said, as they hugged for a last time, and he waved as she sped off in the Jeep.
It was dark when she finally got on the plane. The flight crew were waiting for her, with a delicate meal prepared. She just couldn't touch it, after all she'd seen. She sat staring into the night for a long time. There was a bright moon at the tip of the wing, and a sky full of stars. And everything she had just seen and done for three days felt unreal. She thought about all of it, and about Blake and what he was doing, as they flew toward New York, and she finally fell asleep in her seat, and didn't wake until they landed in Newark at five A.M. The days she had just spent in Morocco felt more than ever like a dream.
Chapter 18
Maxine was at her apartment at seven. The children were still asleep, and Zelda was still in her room. Maxine showered and dressed for the office. She had slept well on the plane, so she felt rested, although she had a lot to think about and digest after her trip. It was a beautiful June morning, so she walked to the office and got there just after eight. She had an hour before her first patient was due in, and she called Charles to let him know she was home safely. He answered on the second ring.
“Hi, it's me,” she said softly, hoping he had calmed down.
“And who would that be?” he asked, sounding gruff. She had called him three times from Morocco, and never reached him, so she had left messages on his answering machine at home. It was just as well. She didn't want to fight wi
th him long distance. He hadn't answered in Vermont either, and there was no machine to leave a message. She was hoping that he had mellowed out in the four days since she left.
“That would be the future Mrs. West,” she teased. “At least I hope so.”
“How was it?” He sounded better, or so she thought. She'd know better when she saw him, and could read the expression in his eyes.
“Amazing, terrible, sad, heartbreaking. The way all those things are. The kids there are in terrible shape, but so are the adults.” She didn't tell him about Blake's plan to set up an orphanage, right off the bat. She thought that would be pushing it. She talked about the earthquake damage in more general terms. “As usual, the Red Cross is doing a great job.” And so was Blake, but she didn't say it. She wanted to be cautious with Charles and not get him riled up again.
“Are you exhausted?” he asked sympathetically. She would have to be. She'd been halfway around the world for three days, and he was sure living conditions had been miserable and the visit grueling while she was there. Although he was angry about why, and who had invited her, he was proud of her for going, although he had never said that to her.
“Not really. I slept on the plane.” He remembered then with a ripple of irritation that she had traveled on Blake's private jet.
“Would you like to go out to dinner tonight, or are you too jetlagged?”
“I'd love it,” she said quickly. It was clearly a peace offering from him, and she was looking forward to seeing him.
“Our old standby?” He meant La Grenouille, of course.
“How about Café Boulud? It's not as formal, and it's closer to home.” She knew she might be tired later on, after a day in the office on the heels of the long trip. And she wanted to see her kids.
“I'll pick you up at eight,” he said quickly, and then, “I missed you, Max. I'm glad you're home. I was worried about you.” He had thought about her all weekend in Vermont.
“I was fine.”
And then with a sigh, “How was Blake?”
“He's trying very hard to make a difference, and it's not easy. It never is in those situations. I'm glad I went.”
“We'll talk about it tonight,” he said brusquely. They hung up, and she glanced at the messages on her desk before her first patient showed up. It looked like nothing dramatic had happened over the weekend. Thelma had faxed her a brief report. None of Maxine's patients had had problems, or had to be admitted over the weekend. She was pleased. She worried about them too.
The rest of the day went smoothly, and she managed to be home by six o'clock so she could see the children after work. Zelda had gone to an appointment, and when she came back, she was wearing high heels and a suit, which was rare.
“Where have you been?” Maxine asked, smiling at her. “You look like you had a hot date.” That hadn't happened to Zelda in years.
“I had to see a lawyer about something. No big deal.”
“Everything okay?” Maxine looked momentarily worried, but Zelda said it was fine.
Maxine told her children about the work their father was doing in Morocco, and they were extremely proud of him. She said she was too. She told them everything except about the orphanage. She had promised him that she would let him tell them about it, and she kept her word.
She even managed to be dressed on time when Charles showed up just before eight o'clock. He said hello to the children, who muttered greetings and disappeared into their rooms. They were a lot less friendly now that they knew about the wedding plans. He had become the enemy overnight.
Maxine ignored them, and they walked to the restaurant on East 76th Street. It was a warm balmy night, and she was wearing a blue linen dress and silver sandals, a far cry from her army surplus gear and combat boots that she had been in twenty-four hours before, in a different world with Blake. He had called her to thank her again that afternoon. He said he had already made some contacts to further his plans. He was embarking on it with the same determination, energy, and focus that had won him his success over the years.
They were halfway through dinner when Maxine told Charles about the rehearsal dinner Blake was giving for them the night before the wedding. Charles stopped and stared at her with his fork halfway to his mouth.
“What did you just say?” He had begun to relax and warm up to her again, when she hit him with that.
“I said that he wants to give the rehearsal dinner for us, the night before the wedding.”
“I guess my parents would be doing that if they were alive,” Charles said regretfully, as he set his fork down and sat back in his chair. “Do you want me to do it?” He looked a little startled by the whole idea.
“No,” Maxine said, smiling at him. “I think for a second wedding, it's pretty much up for grabs. Blake is like family anyway. The kids will be thrilled to have him do it.”
“Well, I'm not,” Charles said bluntly, pushing away his meal. “Are we ever going to get rid of that guy, or is he just going to tag along forever? You told me you had a decent relationship, but this is ridiculous. I feel like I'm marrying him too.”
“Well, you're not. But he is the children's father. Trust me, Charles, it's better like this.”
“For who?”
“Well, for my kids.” And for her too. She would have hated to have an ex-husband she never spoke to, or where they were constantly fighting over the kids.
Charles was glaring at her. She had never seen someone as jealous, and she couldn't help wondering if it was because of who Blake was and what he had achieved, or because she'd been married to him. It was hard to tell.
“And I suppose if I say no to the rehearsal dinner, your children will think I'm a prick.” The answer to that was yes, but she was afraid to say that to Charles. “This is a completely no-win situation for me.”
“No, it isn't. If you let him do it, the children will have a ball planning it with him, and he puts on a great party.” As she said it, Charles looked angrier by the minute. It had never occurred to Maxine that he would be that upset. Blake was her family, and she had hoped Charles would understand. “Maybe I should just invite my ex-wife too.”
“That would be fine with me,” Maxine said gently, as Charles signaled for the check. He was in no mood for dessert, and Maxine didn't care. The jet lag had finally caught up with her, and she didn't want to fight with Charles about Blake, or anything.
He walked her back to her building in silence, and left her outside. He said he'd see her the next day, hailed a cab, and left without another word to her. Things were definitely stressful between them, and she hoped the wedding plans didn't make things worse. They were meeting with the caterer in Southampton that weekend. Charles had already told her he thought both the tent and the wedding cake were too expensive, which was annoying since she was paying for all of it herself. Charles was a little tight about things like that. But Maxine wanted everything beautiful for their wedding.
As she rode up in the elevator, she thought about telling Blake not to do the rehearsal dinner, but she knew that he'd be so disappointed. And the kids would be upset too, if they got wind of it. She hoped that Charles would get used to the idea, and even relax about Blake in time. And if anyone could soften Charles up, it was Blake. He had an easy way with everyone, and no one had ever been able to resist his charm and sense of humor. If Charles could, it would be a first.
In spite of his anger at her the night before, the next morning Maxine had to ask Charles to come by that night, to go over the guest list and details about the wedding. The caterer had called for more information, and wanted to know several things before their meeting on Saturday. Charles grudgingly came over after dinner, still in a bad mood from the night before. He was mad about the rehearsal dinner, and he still hadn't completely swallowed her trip to Morocco. There was a little too much Blake Williams in his life these days, even at his wedding. It was a lot for Charles to digest.
Charles sat down at the kitchen table with the children as they were
finishing dessert. Zelda had made apple pie with vanilla ice cream, and he willingly had a piece, and said it was very good.
And just as they were about to leave the table, Zellie cleared her throat. It was obvious that she was going to say something, but they had no idea what it was.
“I…uh… I'm sorry to do this right now. I know with the wedding coming up, and …” She looked apologetically at Maxine, who was suddenly convinced Zelda was going to quit. That was all she needed right now. With the wedding in August, and Charles moving in, she wanted as much stability and continuity as possible for them. This was no time for a major change, or for someone important to them to leave their lives. And Maxine had relied on her for years. Zelda was family now. Maxine looked up at her in panic. The children stared, having no idea what to expect. And Charles looked nonplussed as he finished his pie. Whatever Zelda had to say had nothing to do with him, or so he thought. Who Maxine employed or didn't was entirely up to her. It wasn't his problem, and she seemed fine to him, and a pretty good cook. But in his mind, like anyone else, she could always be replaced. That wasn't how Maxine and her children felt about it, by any means.
“I … I've been doing a lot of thinking …,” Zelda said, twisting a dish towel in her hands. “You guys are growing up,” she said, looking at the children, “and you're getting married,” looking at Maxine, “and I just feel like I need something more in my life too. I'm not getting any younger, and I don't think my life is going to change anymore.” She smiled lopsidedly. “I guess Prince Charming lost my address …so I've decided …I want a baby … and if that doesn't work for you guys, I understand, and I'll leave. But I've made up my mind.” For a long moment, they all stared at her, stunned. Maxine wondered for an instant if she had sneaked off to a sperm bank and gotten pregnant. It sounded like it to her.
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