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  That stopped her cold. Important? How odd. She once thought it was very important--just like Bruce did. "I guess I just don’t care anymore."

  Her indifference increased his animosity, and he spat out his words, pointing his finger at her accusingly. "You don’t care, but I do. You need me--if nothing else to help guide your career. Those people you snub today are the ones who’ll make or break you tomorrow. Don’t forget it! You need their support. When wrinkles show on TV, don’t think the producer’s going to keep you around unless he has to. And another thing, that Edie Canham isn’t half bad as your replacement. There were lots of people who noticed her. A hell of a lot!"

  "Are you through?"

  He got the door ahead of her, blocking her way. "I won’t allow--"

  "Bruce! Don’t you get it? We used each other to get ahead." She was sorry that the friendship they’d once shared had vanished, but at the same time, she experienced a sense of relief. She could see how far apart they’d grown. "What we had was good for both of us while it lasted. But no more."

  His jaw tightened and she could see the muscles twitching. Then he raised his quivering chin, stepped aside and let her go. "You’re a cold bitch, Lee Reynolds. I don’t think you have one honest emotion in your whole body!"

  o0o

  "Lee, thank you for coming by." Jake Metcalf, general manager of CABN-TV, held out his hand to her as she entered his office. It was mid November, a little more than a month after the play-offs, the World Series, and the last time she saw Tony.

  "Hello, Jake, how have you been?"

  "Not bad, Lee. Especially the way our ratings are going through the roof. I want you to know that I know it's you, not Rick Archer, who's the glue that holds that fabric together, the...the...thread in the stitches of that station, the...the..."

  "Pin on the donkey's tail?" she suggested. Much of the credit of Newscene's success was due in part to Jake, whose award-winning astuteness managed of every aspect of a news show.

  "Exactly!" he said. "And now we all know what part of the donkey Rick Archer is, don't we?"

  She smiled. It was her first smile in weeks and it felt surprisingly good. "I won't argue."

  "Now," Jake leaned forward on his desk, his hands clasped. "The bottom line, as you know, is that Rick Archer has been here for decades. The public sees whatever comes out of his mouth as the next best thing to the word of God. He's an institution, and I wouldn't want to change that. However, we're starting a new weekly news show. I'11 personally oversee its production, at least the first month or two. It'll run for an hour and be made up of short segments of topical interest--interviews and investigations involving politicians, actors and actresses, crooks. You name it."

  "It's a familiar format," she said, not even trying to force cheerfulness. She'd learned this past month that such feelings dropped like rocks into some hollow place within her. Blessedly, the numbness that came from her parting with Tony overlaid everything else. She had tried to deny his parting words to her, then raged against them, then cried as the devastating realization of their truth hit her. He'd been right--she’d learned well from Judith. Too well. She’d become everything she’d been taught she should want to be. Judith had called her worthless, and she'd devoted fifteen years of her life to proving her wrong. That was what Tony was really saying, and he was right.

  The irony of it was, Judith had won. She'd driven Lisa away from Tony, even from her friend Cheryl, and caused Lisa to push herself harder than she would have otherwise. Without Judith, Lee Reynolds would never have come into existence.

  "It's familiar, but the public eats it up," Jake said. "Anyway, we'd like you on our team. We’d also like your input on a couple of five to ten minute segments a week--your choice, for the most part. We’ll have a list for you to choose from if you don’t have a burning desire to work on a particular topic of your own on any given week."

  "You want me as a reporter?"

  "Not just as a reporter. We’d also like you to be a co-host on the show along with Aaron Josephs. He’s one of our best newsmen, as I'm sure you know. Good looking and smart. Together, you two will be dynamite! And...your name would get top billing."

  She was shocked. Her agent had indicated a terrific offer was in the works, but this was far more than she'd dreamed. This was exactly the type of news show she’d always wanted to work on. "What about Evening Newscene?"

  "I like that about you, Lee. You're loyal. You don't want to leave anyone in the lurch. Look, we'll have all week to put the new show together, then air it on Tuesdays. I can get you out of your anchor job for the Tuesday evening broadcast. That way you'll have an entire week, plus the weekend to develop and film your own segments."

  Such a schedule would be nothing less than grueling, but she liked it. She wanted it. "You've thought of everything."

  "I hope so, Lee."

  "Give me some time to consider it, Jake. My agent will call you."

  "The show will start in three weeks. We're yanking a turkey off the air as fast as we can. We need your decision right away."

  "You'll get it."

  o0o

  Lee threw herself into the excitement and hard work of beginning a new show. She got along terrifically with Aaron Josephs, whose dry wit appealed to her. On the air, their chemistry made them instant media darlings. On a personal level, the new show kept her so busy that she had little time to think about the past, or Tony, or Ben.

  She was a demanding taskmaster, intolerant of sloppiness and expecting no less than perfection from her crew. Her energy and brains intimidated the younger employees on the set, and yet, they loved being there. The studio had a hunger and energy in the air when she was near that kept everyone invigorated.

  At night, she'd fall into bed completely exhausted, and go straight to sleep. She lost weight, which brought out the dramatic contours of her face even more strongly.

  Gradually, the numbness wore off around her heart, leaving behind regrets and a lingering sadness. She could do no more than to accept the past--its joy and its grief, its good fortune and its terrible mistakes. Her love for Tony would always be a part of her. She knew that. If, at times, a seemingly familiar dark head in a crowd, or a sultry pair of brown eyes would cause her heart to race, she could accept that, too. And with that acceptance, she found herself beginning to enjoy life again and to shake the cool detachment that had sheltered her emotions from pain for so many years--and had blunted her from life.

  As the first hectic weeks of starting a new show winded down to a dull roar, her schedule eased up a bit and she found time to socialize. The news of her break-up with Bruce had made the rounds--she discreetly fielded questions about the cause of their separation--and invitations from all the other eligible bachelors, including some who were hardly eligible or bachelors, filled her answering machine and e-mail. She went out with a few, but was never moved to give more than a goodnight kiss.

  Only on occasion did she have a sleepless night wondering what was happening with Tony and Ben. Ironically, although she had tried to explain everything to him that day after the hearing, he ended up explaining even more to her. As the harshness of their words eased, she had hoped understanding would come, and he would call. But he didn’t.

  That phase of her life was truly over. Time to move on.

  o0o

  Slowly, but steadily, the weeks went by. Day by day, the New York weather turned colder. In the excitement of starting up the "One Hour Report" show, she missed Halloween, but there was no ignoring the major holidays.

  Lots of parties and festivities were going on. Lee went to a couple of them and enjoyed the company of friends and associates. Bruce showed up at one with Melanie. Lee greeted them, but they were clearly uncomfortable seeing her.

  One of the women she worked with invited her to a quiet Thanksgiving dinner at her apartment. The woman, Rhonda, had no family in New York. Despite Lee's invitation to dine at the home of the state senate's majority leader, she decided to join her co-worker. Rh
onda served something called "turkey a la king" over boiled noodles. They ate, joked, laughed and got drunk together. Riding home in the cab, Lee knew she'd made the right choice.

  Soon, snow was falling, turning everything a beautiful white. Miriam complained about the cold in Miwok--fifty to fifty five during the day, dropping to the low forties at night, Lee just laughed, facing with wind chill factors of zero degrees in New York City.

  She bought a sad little Christmas tree that stole her heart. It was far too scrawny, which was probably why it was still in the small corner lot when she passed by. Only three feet tall, she stood it on a lamp table, and decorated it with old fashioned, colorful glass ornaments. Lee had never bothered to buy a tree before, but something made her want to have one this year. She hoped she wasn't turning sentimental. Lee had bragged for years that she had all the sentimentality of a commodities broker.

  She liked the tree a lot.

  Christmas approached. Since she had taken off so much time earlier in the year, she offered to work extra shifts and let the other anchors spend the day with their families. There were several requests for dates, and invitations to parties, but she turned them down, half-truthfully pleading a busy workload. Even her new friend Rhonda flew home to Wisconsin to be with her family for Christmas. Lee talked to Miriam, who was going to spend the holiday with Gene. Right after New Year, the two of them would spend two days in New York with her, then fly to Rome for a week before picking up a cruise ship in Venice that would head for Greece.

  Miriam said if she could stand two weeks on a ship with "that man," in one little cabin, the two of them might give serious thought to getting married. Lee was sure Miriam was going to love every minute of the trip.

  On Christmas Day she was exhausted by the time she got home after the eleven o'clock broadcast. She had pre-ordered an elegant ready cooked meal from Balducci's, including dessert, and ate until she thought she'd be sick. It was a heavenly--and heavy--indulgence.

  She put on the radio to listen to some carols, lit the lights on her Christmas tree, got out the Osterizer, and made herself a delicious, giant-sized Brandy Alexander. She’d forgotten how delicious they were.

  o0o

  January 18 was Tony's thirty sixth birthday. She thought about it all day, and as much as she tried to force it out of her mind, it obstinately stayed with her.

  When she went home, her telephone beckoned. But she wouldn't call him. It was up to him now. She had hurt him more than she’d ever known, and he’d turned her out of his life because of it. She had to accept that.

  She tried to eat dinner--a salad with some canned shrimp but she couldn't seem to swallow. Her gaze kept drifting toward the phone. She wondered if he was having a party, who was with him. Gene was still on the cruise with Miriam. The two had been like a couple of kids when Lee saw them over New Year’s, Gene looking handsome and her aunt more stylish and vivacious than ever. She had never seen Miriam so happy, or so much in love. They bickered constantly, and Lee knew they wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  She put down the fork, and walked to the sofa to sit beside the phone. Maybe if she were beside it, she wouldn't look at it so often. She folded her hands, then peeked out of the corner of her eye. He would call her when, and if, he was ready.

  Suddenly, her phone began to ring. She stared at it, scarcely believing what she was hearing. By the second ring, she lunged for it. The caller ID showed only “California.”

  "Hello?" Her voice was breathless, excited, hopeful.

  "Hello. This is Vic Santos."

  Vic! Her stomach knotted. "Is everything all right?"

  "Not so hot. That's why I call you."

  "Tony and Ben are all right, aren't they?"

  "Yeah, they're okay. Except Tony...sometimes he don't listen to me. He's stubborn."

  "What's wrong, Vic?" Lee asked. This man hadn't called her just to chat. Something had to be terribly wrong for him to contact her.

  "He's gone. I'm stayin’ at his house. Keepin’ it up for him."

  She felt as if her heart stopped. "Gone? What do you mean? Where is he?"

  "I tried to talk to him."

  Her voice was hushed as she asked firmly, "What happened?"

  She could all but hear Vic's struggle over talking to her, and bit her tongue, forcing herself to be patient. "He wants to get a job as a coach on some major league team. He thinks he might be able to get Ben back if he does. He thinks he'll have more money, more prestige. And that might help him win his custody appeal."

  A coach? Her mind raced with the possibilities--and there were few. "He's been away from baseball so long. I suspect lots of players want to coach, especially in the majors. The competition has to be horrible."

  "I know, but he won't listen. He's playin’ winter ball, tryin’ to get back his skill, hopin’ the scouts will see him. Then he'll go out and try to find a coachin’ job."

  A chill touched her. "But what if he can't do it? What if he's not good enough?"

  "That's why I called you, Lisa. I worry. It’s his birthday today."

  "I know."

  "Yeah, I shoulda guessed you would. So, maybe you can talk some sense into him?"

  "Me?"

  "There's only three things my boy ever really loved-- baseball, his son...and you. And now, he don't have none of them."

  Her throat tightened. "You, too, Vic. He loves you very much."

  "That's not enough for a man."

  She took a deep breath. "Where is he?"

  "The Dominican Republic."

  "The Dominican "

  "That's where winter ball is."

  She shut her eyes. "You know, don't you, that he told me he never wanted to see me again?"

  "Tony's got a temper. He usually keeps it under tight control, ‘specially around you. But when he loses it, he says things he don't really mean. He's stubborn, too, so sometimes he don't back off."

  She held the phone with both hands, like a lifeline. "I'll do what I can, but I can't force him or even push him to a decision that he's not happy with."

  "That might be enough."

  "Thank you for telling me."

  "It's okay, girl. I'm glad, too. I think you changed some. For the better."

  She smiled. She guessed she'd always be some troublesome "girl" to Vic. "How's Ben?"

  He sighed. "He's got nice clothes. Goes to a school costs a few thousand dollars each month. Got lotsa toys."

  "Is he getting used to being there?"

  "His mother treats him well. He's strong. He didn't want to go, though. Tony had to push him away when that Catherine came to get him. It was hard for Tony...hard for both of them."

  Her heart lurched. She couldn't imagine...she shook her head, trying to dispel the wretched scene Vic's words brought to mind.

  "Did Ben spend Christmas with you?"

  "He stayed with Tony in the Dominican for a few days."

  She nodded, her throat tight. "I'm glad they could be together."

  o0o

  After hanging up the phone, she sat on the sofa, vacantly staring at the wall. How worried Vic must have been to open his heart to her, of all people.

  She walked to the windows, rubbing the chill from her arms. The moon was full over Manhattan tonight. Vic had said that Tony had to push away the small child who loved him. Her eyes filled with tears for him. She didn't know where he’d found the strength.

  Chapter 26

  Lee sat in her office, sipping her second cup of coffee. She was groggy from having stayed awake so late last night trying to figure out what to do about Vic's call. She wasn’t sure why she told him she would try to talk to Tony. It wasn’t her place to call him and have a heart-to-heart about his future. Vic had made it sound as if Tony wasn't himself, and hadn't been, since he’d lost Ben. There had to be some way to help.

  Max Hobbs, the news director, opened her office door and then knocked on it, his head already peering at her. "Lee, thank God you're here!" Hobbs was a sixties liberal who had become
part of the establishment and now spent his time trying to show how concerned and caring he still was. Right now he looked concerned and panicked.

  "Good morning, Max. I was just finishing my coffee, then I'm off to interview Senator Lofton."

  "It can wait."

  "Not hardly. It's taken me two weeks to line it up. I need the senator for One Hour Report."

  "And I can't put Archer on the show tonight! He said something unkind about the Rainbow Coalition and now Jesse Jackson is in a uproar! I need you to handle Archer's slot as well as your own. I’ll get someone on with you, but you'll be carrying the ball."

  "You've got other anchors, Max."

  He put his hands on her desk and stared at her with puppy-dog eyes. "But none as good as you are. I need you to bail me out of this one. I’ll owe you, Lee."

  "You already owe me. My own show needs the senator's interview."

  Max lifted his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose a few times. "Okay. After the interview, rush back here as fast as you can and I’ll have the staff ready to brief you on the news pieces we're lining up.

  Xantha, Lee's secretary, put her head in the doorway. "It's time to go, Miss Reynolds, so you won't be late."

  "Be right there, Xantha." Lee picked up her purse and soft leather briefcase.

  "Can I count on you, then?" Max asked, stepping to her side, his pudgy hands clasped together, a woe-is-me expression and a sly twinkle in his eyes.

  "This will cost big-time, Max." Lee left him standing in her office.

  She wasn't late, but the senator was by over forty five minutes. She rushed from that interview back to the station, was briefed on the day’s news, got made up, and went on the air.

  When the show was over, she went into the engineers' room where Max was finishing up instructions for the late night broadcast.

  "Sissy Springfield is having a big party tonight," Max said. "I know you’re invited. We can’t be late."

  Lee collapsed into a chair. "We can’t be late?" She had run around all day and the man had a party on his mind?

  "The show was terrific with you anchoring! Don’t worry about anything else," Max dashed about, writing notes and barking orders to his staff. "I’m really looking forward to Sissy’s spread. She serves the best of everything. I even skipped lunch."