and lend a hand. It's only coincidental that the one who asked me to go is Blake. Any of the agencies involved could have called me too.”
“But they didn't. He did. And I don't see why you're going. For chrissake, when his son got hurt, it took you nearly a week to find him.”
“Because he was in Morocco, and they had an earthquake,” she said, sounding exasperated. This was seeming more unreasonable to her by the minute.
“Yeah, and where has he been for the rest of his children's lives? At parties and on yachts and chasing women. You told me yourself, you can never find him, and that's not because of earthquakes. The guy is a jerk, Max. And you're running halfway around the world to make him look good while he rescues a bunch of earthquake survivors? Give me a break. Screw him. I don't want you to go.”
“Please don't do this,” Maxine said through clenched teeth. “I'm not running off with my ex-husband for an illicit weekend. I am going to consult about starting up a program for thousands of children who have been left orphaned and injured and are going to be traumatized for the rest of their lives if someone doesn't do the right stuff in the beginning. It may not make much difference, depending on how they implement it, and what kind of funding is available to them, but it could make some. And that's my only interest here, not Blake, but helping those kids, as many as I can.” She made it very clear to him, but he wasn't buying it. Not for a minute.
“I had no idea I was marrying Mother Teresa,” he said, sounding even angrier than before, much to Maxine's utter frustration and chagrin. The last thing she wanted was a fight with Charles over this. It was pointless, and would just make things harder for her. She had made a commitment to Blake, and she was going. It was what she wanted to do, whether Charles liked it or not. He didn't own her, and he had to respect her work, and even her relationship to Blake, such as it was. Charles was the man she loved, he was her future. Blake was her past, and the father of her children.
“You're marrying a psychiatrist specializing in suicidality in adolescents, with a subspecialty of trauma in children and adolescents. I think that's pretty clear. The earthquake in Morocco is right up my alley. The only reason you're upset about it is because of Blake. Can we be grown-ups here? I wouldn't make a fuss if you were doing it. Why can't you be reasonable about me?”
“Because I don't understand the kind of relationship you have with him, and I think it's sick. You two have never cut the cord, and you may be a psychiatrist, Dr. Williams, but I think your bond to your exhusband is twisted, that's what I think.”
“Thanks for your opinion, Charles. I'll take it into consideration some other time. Right now, I'm late for my patients, and I'm going to Morocco for three days. I made a commitment, and I'd like to do it. And I would appreciate it if you would be a little more adult about it, and trust me with Blake. I'm not going to have sex with him amid the rubble.” She was raising her voice, and so had he. They were fighting. About Blake. This was crazy.
“I don't care what you do with him, Maxine. But I can tell you one thing, I'm not going to put up with this kind of thing after we're married. If you want to run off to earthquakes and tsunamis and God knows what else halfway around the world, that's fine with me. But don 't plan on doing it with your ex-husband and have me stick around. I think this is just an excuse for him to get you over there and hang out with you. I don't think it has a goddamn thing to do with Moroccan orphans or anything of that nature. The guy isn't enough of a human being to give a damn about anyone but himself, and you've told me that yourself. This is just an excuse and you know it.”
“Charles, you're wrong,” she said quietly. “I've never known him to do anything like this either, but I have to respect what he's doing. And I'd like to help him if I can. I'm not helping
Maxine stood staring at the phone for a moment afterward, upset by the conversation. And she jumped at the voice behind her. In the heat of her fight with Charles, she hadn't heard Daphne come in. “He's an asshole,” Daphne said, with a voice from beyond the grave. “I can't believe you're going to marry him, Mom. And he hates Dad.” Maxine disagreed, but she could understand why her daughter felt that way.
“He doesn't understand the kind of relationship I have with him. He never talks to his ex-wife. They don't have kids.” But it was more than that with Blake. In their own way they still loved each other, it had just transformed into something else, a kind of familial bond that she didn't want to lose. And she didn't want a showdown with Charles over it. She wanted him to understand, and he didn't.
“Are you still going to Morocco?” Daphne asked with worried eyes. She thought her mother should, to help out her dad and all those kids.
“Yes, I am. I just hope Charles calms down over it.”
“Who cares?” Daphne said, pouring cereal into a bowl, as Zellie started making pancakes for her.
“I do,” Maxine said honestly. “I love Charles.” And she hoped that one day her children would too. It wasn't unheard of for children to resent a stepparent, particularly at these ages. There was nothing unusual about it, she knew, but it was damn hard to live with.
Maxine was a full half hour late at her office, and continued to run late all day. She hadn't had time to talk to Charles again. She was swamped, seeing patients, and canceling whatever appointments she could for the end of the week. She called Charles as soon as she got home, and was discouraged to find that he was still upset. She reassured him as much as possible, and asked him if he wanted to come over for dinner. He stunned her by saying that he'd see her when she got back. He was punishing her for the trip that had been generated by Blake, and he didn't want to see her before she left.
“I'd love to see you before I go,” she said gently. But Charles wasn't ready to give it up. She hated leaving knowing that he was still angry at her, but he refused to relent. Maxine thought it was childish of him, but decided to let him calm down while she was away. There was no other choice. When she called him later, she found he had even turned off his phone. He was stewing and taking it out on her.
She had a pleasant dinner with her children that night, and after another crazy day in the office on Thursday, she called Charles again in the evening, before she left. This time he answered his phone.
“I just wanted to say goodbye,” she said as calmly as she could.
“I'm leaving for the airport.” They were flying out of Newark where Blake always landed his plane.
“Take care of yourself,” Charles said gruffly.
“I emailed you Blake's cell phone and BlackBerry, and you can try mine. I think it'll work while I'm there,” she said, trying to be helpful.
“I'm not going to call you on his phone,” Charles said, sounding angry again. It still rankled him that she was going. It was going to be a miserable weekend for him. She understood why, and she felt badly about it, but she was sorry he couldn't seem to get past it and be more understanding. She was excited now about the trip, and what she'd be doing. There was always a kind of professional high in those situations, even though they were heartbreaking. But helping in national disasters like that made one feel like one's life had some meaning. She knew it was good for Blake too, and it was a first for him, which was part of why she was going. She didn't want to let him down, and she wanted to reinforce the turn his life seemed to be taking. It was just too much for Charles to understand. And Daphne was right. He hated Blake, and had been jealous of him from the first.
“I'll try and call you,” Maxine reassured him, “and I left Zellie your numbers in case anything happens here.” She assumed he'd be in town, since she wouldn't be around.
“Actually, I'm thinking about going to Vermont,” Charles replied. It was beautiful there in June. She would have loved it if he had the kind of relationship with her children where he would see them even without her, since he was going to become their stepfather in two months, but he didn't. And she knew that, in her absence, the children wouldn't want to see him either. It was a shame. They still had a long way to go before both factions were at ease with each other. They needed her to be the bridge between them. “Be careful, disaster sites like that can be dangerous. And that's North Africa, not Ohio,” he admonished her before they hung up.
“I will, don't worry.” She smiled. “I love you, Charles. I'll be back on Monday.” She was sad when she hung up. This had definitely been a hiccup between them. She hoped it wouldn't be more than that, and she was sorry she hadn't seen him before she left, because he refused to. It seemed childish and petty to her that he was being so stubborn about it. As she went to kiss her children goodbye, she observed to herself that in the end, no matter how
