“You guys have your own plane?”

“Jack does.”

“Wow! My mom is a TV star, and my dad has a jet plane! Holy Moses!”

“He's not exactly your father,” Maddy corrected gently, nor would he want to be, Maddy easily suspected. He didn't enjoy interacting with his own sons, let alone take on Maddy's illegitimate daughter. “But he's a nice man,” and as she said it, she knew she was lying to her. But it was too complicated to explain how unhappy she was, and that she was in therapy to try to get up the courage to leave him. She just hoped that Elizabeth had never been abused, as she had been. But there had been no tales of that over lunch, and in spite of never having had a real home, she seemed remarkably well adjusted. And as much as it depressed her to think so, Maddy wondered if Lizzie had done better in the end where she was, than if she'd been watching Bobby Joe shove her mother down the stairs, or listening to Jack abuse her. But she couldn't let herself off the hook as easily as that, and she felt guilty for what she had never done for her daughter. Just thinking the word now gave her a tremor. A daughter. She had a daughter.

Maddy kissed Elizabeth good-bye when she left, and they hugged for a long moment, and then she looked down at the girl's face with a smile and spoke softly to her. “Thank you for finding me, Lizzie. I don't deserve you yet, but I'm so happy to know you.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Lizzie whispered and they both wiped away tears as Maddy watched her go. It was a moment in her life that she knew neither of them would ever forget, and for the rest of the day she was in a daze, and she was still distracted when Bill Alexander called her.

“What's new with you today?” he asked comfortably, and Maddy laughed at the question.

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

“That sounds pretty mysterious. Anything important happen?” He wondered if she was going to tell him she had left her husband, but he had begun to realize she wasn't there yet.

“I'll tell you when I see you again. It's kind of a long story.”

“I can't wait to hear it. How's it going with your co-anchor?”

“Slowly. He's a nice guy, but it's like dancing with a rhinoceros for the moment. We're not exactly graceful together.” She was waiting for their ratings to take a dive, they had already gotten hundreds of letters, complaining about the disappearance of Greg Morris. And she wondered what Jack would do when he saw them.

“You'll adjust to each other eventually it's probably a little bit like marriage.”

“Maybe.” She sounded unconvinced. Brad Newbury was smart, but they were not an exciting duo, and it was inevitable that their viewers would notice.

“How about lunch tomorrow?” he asked casually. He was still concerned about her, and wanted to be sure that she was all right, after everything she had told him. Besides, he liked her.

“I'd love it,” Maddy answered without hesitating.

“You can tell me your long story then. I can hardly wait to hear it.” They agreed on a place, and Maddy was smiling to herself when she hung up, and a little while later she went in to hair and makeup.

The broadcasts went well, and she met Jack in the lobby afterward. He was talking on his cell phone, and the conversation continued into the car and halfway home, and when he finally hung up, she didn't say anything to him.

“You're looking serious tonight,” he said, looking unconcerned. He had absolutely no idea that she had met Lizzie, and she didn't say a word to him about it, until they were in their house, and he was rummaging for something to eat in the kitchen. They had agreed not to go out to dinner, and neither of them was very hungry. “Anything special happen today?” he asked casually. With Maddy, silence was often an indicator of something important she wasn't saying. She looked at him, and nodded. She had been groping for the right words for a while, and then finally decided to come right out and say it.

“Why didn't you tell me that you'd had a visit from my daughter?” Her eyes never left his as she asked the question, and she saw something cold and hard come into his, a burning ember that was rapidly being kindled by anger.

“Why didn't you tell me you had a daughter?” he asked just as bluntly. “I wonder how many other secrets you've kept from me, Mad. That's a pretty big one.” He sat down at the kitchen counter with a bottle of wine, and poured himself a glass, but he didn't offer one to Maddy

“I should have told you about it, but I didn't want anyone to know. It happened ten years before I met you, and I just wanted to put it behind me.” As always, she was honest with him. Her only sin with him so far was one of omission, not commission.

“Funny how things bounce back at you sometimes, isn't it? Here you thought you had gotten rid of her, and she pops right back up like a bad penny.” It hurt her to hear him say that, and she resented it. Lizzie was a great girl, and Maddy already felt protective of her.

“You don't need to call her that, Jack. She's a good kid. It's not her fault I had her when I was fifteen and gave her up. She seems like a decent person.”

“How the hell do you know?” he said, spitting fire at her, and she could already feel the blaze as he watched her. “She could be talking to the Enquirer tonight. You may be seeing her face on TV tomorrow, talking about her famous mom who abandoned her. Lots of people do that. You don't even know if she's for real, for God's sake. She could be a fraud. She could be a lot of things, and she probably is, just like her mother.” It was the ultimate put-down, that she was “as bad as her mother.”

Maddy caught the implication clearly, and thought instantly of Dr. Flowers. This was the kind of abuse they had talked about, subterranean, vicious, demeaning.

“She looks just like me, Jack. It would be hard to deny her,” Maddy said calmly, not addressing any of the slurs he'd made on her, but trying to address facts and nothing further.

“Every hick in Tennessee looks like you, for chris-sake. You think black hair and blue eyes is so unusual? They all look like you, Maddy. You're not special.” Maddy ignored yet another ugly comment.

“What I want to know from you is why you didn't tell me that you saw her. What were you saving it for?” The moment when it would hurt her most, she guessed, when it would knock the wind right out of her, and shock her.

“I was trying to protect you from what I assumed was a blackmailer. I was going to check her out before I told you.” It sounded reasonable, and chivalrous, but she knew him better.

“That was nice of you. I appreciate it. But I would have liked to know about it, as soon as you saw her.”

“I'll remember that the next time one of your bastard kids shows up. By the way, how many of them are there?” She didn't dignify what he said with an answer.

“It was nice seeing her,” Maddy said quietly, “she's a sweet girl.” She looked sad and wistful as she said it.

“What did she want from you? Money?”

“She just wanted to meet me. She's spent three years looking for me. I've spent a lifetime thinking about her.”

“How touching. She'll come back to haunt you again, I can promise you that. And it's not going to be a pretty story,” he said cynically, pouring himself another glass of wine, and staring at her in fury.

“It could be. It's very human. These things happen to people.”

“Not nice people, Mad,” he said, relishing the words, and the wounds he was inflicting on her. “That doesn't happen to nice women. They don't go around having babies at fifteen, and then dropping them on the church steps like so much garbage.” It cut her to the quick as she listened.

“That's not how it happened. I don't suppose you'd care to hear the whole story?” She owed him that much at least, he was her husband, and she felt guilty for never having told him.

“No, I wouldn't,” he cut her off, “I just want to know what we're going to do about it when the story breaks and you look like a slut on national TV. I have a show to worry about, and a network.”

“I think people will understand it.” She was trying to maintain her dignity, outwardly at least, but inside, he had hit his mark. She felt an ache in her soul at the portrait he was painting of her. “She's not an ax murderer, for chrissake, and neither am I.”

“No, just a whore. Poor white trash. I wasn't far off the mark, was I?”

“How can you say things like that to me?” she asked, facing him, with a look of pain in her eyes, but it didn't touch him. He wanted to hurt her. “Don't you know how much that hurts me?”

“It should hurt. You can't be proud of yourself, and if you are, you're crazy. And maybe you're that too, Mad. You lied to me, you abandoned her. Did Bobby Joe know about it?”

“Yes, he did,” she said fairly, but at that time, it had been much more recent.

“Maybe that's why he kicked the shit out of you. That explains it. You left that part out when you whined about him. I'm not so sure now that I blame him.”

“That's bullshit!” Maddy blazed back at him. “I don't care what I did. I didn't deserve the way he treated me, and I don't deserve it now. What you're doing isn't fair, and you know it.”

“Lying to me about her wasn't either. How do you think I feel? You're a whore, Mad, a cheap slut. You must have been out fucking around when you were twelve, for chrissake. It makes me wonder who you are now. I feel like I don't even know you.”

“That's not fair,” and he had completely dodged the issue of not having told her. “I was fifteen, and I was wrong, but it was a terrible thing to have happen to me. Nothing in my life has ever been so sad or so painful. Even being kicked around by Bobby Joe wasn't as bad. When I left her, it ripped my heart out.”

“Tell her that, don't tell me. Maybe you can write her a check for it. But don't try using any of my money. I'll be watching.”

“I've never used your money for anything,” she shouted at him, “I use my own, for everything I do,” she said proudly.

“Like hell you do. Who do you think pays your salary? That's my money too,” he said smugly.

“I earn it.”

“The hell you do. You're the most overpaid anchor in the business.”

“No,” Maddy shot at him, “Brad is, and he's going to fuck your show right out the window. I can hardly wait to see it happen.”

“And when it does, sister, you'll go with it. In fact, the way you've been behaving these days, and treating me, I'd say your days are numbered. I'm not going to put up with your bullshit for a lot longer. Why the fuck should I? I can throw your ass out of here anytime I want to. I'm not going to sit here forever while you lie to me, steal from me, victimize me. My God, woman, I can't believe the abuse I take from you.” Just listening to him stunned her. He was the abuser and he was pretending to be the victim. But Dr. Flowers had warned her of that technique and it was very effective. In spite of what she knew and felt, he actually made her feel guilty and defensive. “And just to make things clear, don't try bringing your little brat around here. She's probably a whore, just like her mother.”

“She's my daughter!” Maddy shouted at him in total frustration. “I have a right to see her if I want to, and I live here.”

“Only for as long as I say you do, and don't you forget that.” And with that, he got up and walked out of the room, and Maddy stood there gasping. She waited until she could hear him moving around upstairs, and then quietly closed the kitchen door and called Dr. Flowers. She told her everything that had happened, about Lizzie finding her, and Jack not telling her she'd been looking for her, and his utter fury at having been lied to.

“And how do you feel, Maddy? Right now. Honestly. Think about it.”

“I feel guilty. I should have told him. And I never should have left her.”

“Do you believe all the things he says you are?”

“Some of them.”

“Why? If he came to you with your story could you forgive him?”

“Yes,” she said instantly, “I think I'd understand it.”

“Then what does it say about him that he can't do that for you?”

“That he's a shit,” Maddy said, looking around her kitchen, and listening to Dr. Flowers.

“That's one way to put it. But you're not. That's the point here. You're a good person who had a very sad thing happen to her, that's one of the worst things that can happen to a woman, having to give up a baby. Can you forgive yourself for it?”

“Maybe. In time.”

“And what about the things Jack is saying to you? Do you think you deserve them?”

“No.”

“Think what that says about him. Listen to what he's saying about you, Maddy. None of it's true, but all of it is aimed to hurt you, and it does, and I don't blame you for it.” She heard footsteps in the hall then, and told Dr. Flowers she had to go, but at least the doctor had given her some perspective. And an instant later, the door flew open and Jack strode into the room with a look of suspicion.