“I don't know yet. I want to go back to work, but I want to enjoy you and Andy for a while. This is my first chance, and my last, to be a full-time mother. Once I go back to work, they'll crawl all over me again. I'm in no rush.” And she had some legal things to work out. Her lawyer was organizing a major lawsuit against Jack and his network. He owed her a huge severance for kicking her out of her job, and there was the issue of slander, malicious intent, and a number of other things the lawyer wanted to incorporate in the lawsuit. But mostly, she wanted to stay home for a while and enjoy Lizzie and the baby. Lizzie was starting Georgetown in two weeks, and she was wildly excited about it.
They reached Sugarbush at six o'clock that night, just in time to meet all of Bill's children, and join them for dinner. And his grandchildren went crazy over the baby. He laughed and smiled at them, and the youngest one, who was two and half, played patty-cake with him, and he loved it.
Lizzie took him from her mother after they all ate, and said she'd put him to bed for her. And after Maddy helped Bill's daughter and daughters-in-law clean up the kitchen and put the dishes away, she settled down with him in front of the fire, and they talked for a while. And when everyone went upstairs, he suggested they go for a walk. It was freezing, but the stars were bright, and the snow crunched beneath their feet as they walked down the path his son had shoveled. It was a large, comfortable old house, and it was obvious that they all loved it. They were a nice family, and they enjoyed spending time together. And none of them seemed shocked by his relationship with Maddy. They had made a point of welcoming her, and they were even nice to Lizzie and the baby.
“You have a wonderful family,” she complimented him, as they walked hand in hand, with their gloves on. Everyone's skis were lined up outside, and she was looking forward to skiing with him the next day, if they could find someone to stay with the baby. It was a new aspect to her life, and she knew it would seem strange for a while, but she loved everything about it.
“Thank you,” he smiled at Maddy, and then put an arm around her in her heavy coat. “He's a sweet baby,” he said with a smile. And he could see easily how much she already loved him. It would have been wrong if she could never have experienced that. And she was able to give him a life he would never have had, even with his natural mother. God had known what he was doing in the rubble of the mall that night when he had put the three of them together. And who was he, Bill realized, to take that from her? “I've been thinking a lot,” he said after a while, as they started to turn back toward the house, and he saw that she looked terrified when she looked at him. She thought she knew what was coming.
“I'm not sure I want to hear about it.” Her old terrors shone in her eyes, as she looked away from him so he couldn't see the tears that were forming.
“Why not?” he asked gently, turning her around to face him as they stopped on the snow-covered track. “I figured some things out. I thought you might want to hear them.”
“About us?” she asked in a choked voice, afraid that so soon after it started, it was already ending. It didn't seem fair, but nothing in her life had been so far, except what she had now. Bill and Lizzie and Andy. They were all that mattered to her. Her life with Jack seemed like a bad dream.
“Don't be afraid, Maddy,” Bill said softly. He could feel her trembling as he held her.
“I am. I don't want to lose you.”
“There are no guarantees against that,” he said honestly. “You've got a lot more road ahead of you than I do. But I think I've figured out at this point in my life that it's not about when you get there, or how fast, it's about the journey. As long as you travel the road together and do it well, maybe that's all you can ask. None of us is ever sure of what's around the corner.” He had learned that lesson the hard way, but so had Maddy “It's kind of a trust walk.” She still wasn't sure what he was saying to her. But he wanted more than anything to reassure her. “I'm not going to leave you, Maddy. I'm not going anywhere. And I don't ever want to hurt you.” But they would from time to time, as long as there was no malice in it. They both understood that.
“I don't want to hurt you either,” she said softly, clinging to him for dear life, but slightly reassured by what he was saying to her. She could sense that she had nothing to fear from him. This was a new life, a new day, a new dream they had found together, and carefully nurtured.
“What I'm trying to say to you,” he said, as he looked down at her with a smile in the cold night air, “is that I've figured out that it might do me good to play baseball in my seventies. If all else fails, Andy can throw the ball at me in my wheelchair.”
She looked at him with a funny smile, “I hardly think you'll be in a wheelchair by then,” but she could see now that he was laughing.