But in spite of the ratings, which were an enormous relief to her, she still sounded down to Bill whenever he called her. She had been beating herself up over the show for a long time. She missed working with Greg. And she said she missed Lizzie. She wasn't sure what the problem was, but she admitted to him that she was in lousy spirits. They improved markedly when Bill called her to tell her he had gotten Lizzie into Georgetown. She had the grades and the skills, and she had sent in a wonderful application. But it was one of the most popular schools in the country, and there had been some question for a while as to whether they could find a place for her. He had called several of his contacts, and based on Bill, and the recommendations Lizzie had gotten from her teachers, they had decided to accept her. And Maddy was thrilled for her. She told Bill she was going to get her a little apartment in Georgetown, and she and Lizzie could see each other whenever they wanted. Maddy was ecstatic, and deeply grateful to him.

“Wait till I tell her!”

“Tell her I had nothing to do with it,” Bill said with humility. “She really earned this herself. All I did was open a few doors, but it would never have happened if she didn't deserve it.”

“You're a saint, Bill,” Maddy smiled again. She had been mortified when she had to tell him that Jack had thrown his manuscript out, but it didn't surprise him. He had sent her another copy, and she read it in spare moments at the office. She had just finished it the day before, and they talked about it for some time. She thought it was going to have tremendous impact. It was not only intelligent, but honest and warm, and overwhelmingly human.

And that weekend, she told Lizzie in person about Georgetown. Jack went to Las Vegas for the weekend, with a group of men, and Maddy took a flight to Memphis. They went out to dinner and had a good time, and made plans. Maddy promised to find her an apartment in December, before Lizzie started the term at Georgetown after Christmas. Lizzie couldn't believe her good fortune.

“Don't get me anything too expensive,” she said with a worried frown. “If I'm going to school full-time, I can only work nights and weekends.”

“And when do you think you're going to do your homework?” Maddy asked, sounding like a mom, and loving every minute of it. “You can't work if you're going to get good grades, Lizzie. Think about it.” But there wasn't much to think about from Lizzie's perspective. She had already put herself through a year and a half of college, by working every minute.

“Did they offer me a scholarship?” She still looked worried.

“No, but I am. Don't be silly, Lizzie. Times have changed. You have a mom now.” And one who made a healthy living on one of the highest-rated news shows in the country. She had every intention of putting Lizzie through college, and paying for her apartment and expenses. And she explained that to her in no uncertain terms. “I don't expect you to support yourself. You deserve a break. You've had enough hard times.” She felt she had a lot to make up to her for, and all she wanted now was to do that. She couldn't undo the past, but she could at least ensure her future.

“I can't let you do that. I'll pay you back one day,” Lizzie said solemnly.

“You can support me in my old age,” Maddy laughed, “like a devoted daughter.” The truth was that they were already devoted to each other, and once again, they shared a terrific weekend with each other. They had discovered rapidly that they shared a lot of the same views, had much the same taste in clothes and the things they liked. The only thing they differed on, vehemently, was music. Lizzie was addicted to punk rock and country western, both of which Maddy hated. “I just hope you outgrow it,” Maddy teased her, and Lizzie swore she wouldn't.

“The stuff you listen to is so corny, yuk!” Lizzie teased her back.

They went on long walks together, and spent a quiet morning together on Sunday after they went to church. And then Maddy flew back to Washington, and got home before Jack got in from Vegas. He had said he'd be in around midnight. And she hadn't told him where she was going, and she didn't intend to tell him when he returned. Lizzie was still a time bomb between them.

She was unpacking her small bag when the phone rang on Sunday night, and she was surprised to hear Bill's voice when she answered. He never called her at home, usually only in the office, in case Jack answered.

“Is this a bad time?” he asked, sounding nervous.

“No, it's fine. I just came back from seeing Lizzie. She's ecstatic about Georgetown.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I've been thinking about you all day. I'm glad you're all right. I don't know why, but I was worried about you.” But that wasn't unusual for him either. Ever since she'd walked into his life, she was all he could think of. She was in such a tough situation. She felt she owed Jack so much that she believed she had to take whatever he dished out to her, and so far Bill hadn't been able to convince her of anything different, even though she had begun to realize that Jack was abusive. It was intensely frustrating for Bill. And he worried constantly about her. He had even mentioned her to his children, who were intrigued that he knew her. “Is your husband around?” he asked cautiously. He suspected he wasn't if she was talking about Lizzie.

“No. He went to Las Vegas for the weekend. They were going to have dinner there and see one last show, and come home pretty late. He said midnight, but I bet he won't be home till three or four in the morning.”

“What about dinner then?” he was quick to ask her, relieved to find her alone. “I was just about to make myself some pasta and a salad. Can I interest you in something simple? Or we could go out if you prefer.” He had never invited her to dinner before, although they had had lunch several times, and she always enjoyed spending time with him. He had become her mentor and her confidant, and in some ways, her guardian angel. And with Greg gone, he had become her best friend.

“Actually, I'd love to have dinner with you,” she smiled at the invitation. And they both thought his place was a good idea. There was no point starting rumors, and given the level of interest in her the tabloids had, they could have. And neither of them wanted that kind of problem. “Do you want me to bring anything? Wine? Dessert? Napkins?” She sounded happy that she was going to see him.

“Just bring you. And don't expect too much. My cooking is pretty plain. I've really only learned in the past year.”

“Don't worry about it. I'll help you.”

She arrived at his house half an hour later, with a bottle of red wine in one hand, and wearing a white sweater and blue jeans. And with her hair hanging straight down her back, she looked more like Lizzie than ever. And Bill commented on it.

“She's such a cute kid,” Maddy said proudly, as though they'd shared an entire lifetime together.

Maddy was very impressed by how proficient Bill actually was in the kitchen. He was wearing a starched blue shirt and jeans, and he had rolled up his sleeves, and made an excellent salad. He heated the French bread he had bought for her, and his fettuccine Alfredo was delicious. And the red wine she'd brought was perfect with it. And as they sat in his comfortable kitchen, looking out at the garden he loved, they talked about many things. His diplomatic posts, his academic career, his book, and her show, and eventually his children. They were completely at ease with each other, as friends should be. He found he could talk to her about anything, even his concerns about his daughter's marriage. He thought she worked too hard, had had too many kids in too short a time, and he was worried that his son-in-law was too critical of her. They sounded like a nice family and Maddy would have envied him more than she did, if she didn't have Lizzie.

“I never realized how important children were, until I couldn't have them. I was stupid to let Jack talk me into that, but it was so important to him, and he'd done so much for me, I felt like I owed him that too. All my life, people have told me what to do about having kids or not having them, or giving them up, or seeing to it that I couldn't have them.” It seemed incredible now talking about it with him, but the bitterness and anguish had gone out of it for her to some degree, now that she had found Lizzie. “Imagine if I never had, think of how sad my life would have been, never to have children.”

“It's hard to imagine. My children are what make my life worth living,” he admitted. “Sometimes I think I was more involved with them than Margaret. She was a lot more casual about it. I was always more worried about them, and a little overprotective.” But Maddy could understand that better now. She was constantly worrying about Lizzie, that something might happen to her, and the greatest gift in her life would suddenly vanish. As though it was too sweet a gift to deserve, and she would be punished by having Lizzie disappear.

“I'll always feel guilty for giving her up. It's a miracle she came out of it as well as she did. In some ways, she's a lot healthier than I am,” Maddy said with admiration, as he put a cup of chocolate mousse in front of her, and she tasted it. Like everything else he had served, it was delicious.

“She didn't have the hard hits you did, Maddy. It's amazing you're as whole as you are. Although I'm sure oshe had some tough times too, in foster homes and orphanages. That can't have been easy for her either. Thank God you have each other.” And then he asked her an odd question. “Now that you have her, and you see what it's like, would you ever want more kids?”

“I'd love it, but I don't think there's much chance that will happen,” she smiled wistfully at him, “I didn't give any others away, and I can't have any … the only way I'd have kids would be if I adopted, and Jack won't let me.” It saddened him to hear that Jack was still so much a part of the equation. She was saying nothing about leaving him these days. She hadn't made her peace with the situation she was in, but she hadn't gotten up enough courage to leave either. And she still felt she owed him so much, particularly after the grief she'd caused him over Lizzie, and her deception.