Private Scandals

fear coursing through her. “I can’t analyze it and put it in a slot. I can’t tidy it up or toss it away.” Determined to calm herself, she rubbed her hands over her face as if she could massage away the panic. “I can’t even discuss this rationally. Every time I remind myself that I haven’t been threatened, I haven’t been hurt, I feel this little bubble of hysteria building up. He finds me everywhere. I want to beg him to leave me alone. To just leave me alone. Fran,” she said helplessly, “I’m a mess.”
    Fran got up to lay Kelsey in the playpen. She crossed to take Deanna’s hands in hers. There was more than comfort in the contact—anger simmered just beneath. “Why haven’t you told me this before? Why haven’t you let me know how much this is upsetting you?”
    “You’ve got enough to handle. Aubrey, the new baby.”
    “So you took pity on the new mother and pretended that you were shrugging this whole business off as a by-product of fame?” Suddenly furious, Fran slapped both hands on her hips. “That’s crap, Dee. Insulting crap.”
    “I didn’t see the point in worrying you,” Deanna shot back. “There’s so much stuff going on right now—the show,the backlash from Angela; Margaret’s teenager wrecked the car, Simon’s mother died.” Despising the need to defend herself, she turned back to the window. “Finn’s going off to Haiti next week.” Outside the dog leaped at flying snowballs. Deanna wanted to weep. Resting her head on the cool glass, she waited until her system leveled. “I thought I could handle it myself. I wanted to handle it myself.”
    “What about Finn?” Fran walked over to rub her hand over Deanna’s stiff back. “Does he have a clue what’s going on inside you right now?”
    “He has a lot on his mind.”
    Fran didn’t bother to repress a disgusted snort. “Which means you’ve been playing the same game with him. Did you tell him about this last note?”
    “It seemed best to wait until he got back from this next trip.”
    “It’s selfish.”
    “Selfish?” Her voice cracked in surprised hurt. “How can you say that? I don’t want him worried about me when he’s thousands of miles away.”
    “He wants to worry about you. Jesus, Dee, how can anyone so sensitive, so compassionate, be so obstinate? You’ve got a man out there who loves you. Who wants to share everything with you, good and bad. He deserves to know what you’re feeling. If you love him half as much as he loves you, you’ve got no right to keep things from him.”
    “That wasn’t what I meant to do.”
    “It’s what you are doing. It’s unfair to him, Dee. Just like—” She cut herself off, swearing. “I’m sorry.” But her voice was stiff and cool. “It’s none of my business how you and Finn deal with your relationship.”
    “No, don’t stop now,” Deanna said, equally cool. “Finish it. Just like what?”
    “All right, then.” Fran took a deep breath. Their friendship had lasted more than ten years. She hoped it would weather one more storm. “It’s unfair for you to ask him to put his own needs on hold.”
    “I don’t know what you mean.”
    “For God’s sake, look at him, Dee. Look at him with Aubrey.” She clamped her hand on Deanna’s arm and pushed her back to the window. “Take a good look.”
    She did, watching Finn spin Aubrey around and around, snow spewing up at his feet. The child’s delighted shrieks echoed like a song.
    “That man wants a family. He wants you. You’re denying him both because you haven’t got everything neatly stacked in place. That’s not just selfish, Dee. It’s not just unfair. It’s sad.” When Deanna said nothing, she turned away. “I’ve got to change the baby.” Gathering Kelsey up, she left the room.
    Deanna stood where she was for a long time. She could see Finn wrestling with the dog as Aubrey leaped into her father’s arms to slide a ragged cap onto the top of the big-bellied snowman.
    But she could see more. Finn crossing the tarmac in a torrent of rain, a cocky grin on his face and a swagger in his step. Finn exhausted and asleep on her couch, or laughing as she reeled in her first fat fish. Gentle and sweet as he took her to bed. Gritty-eyed and grim as he returned from observing some fresh disaster.
    He was always there, she realized. Always.
     
    She went through the motions that evening, serving up big bowls of beef stew, laughing at Richard’s jokes. If someone had peeked in the