Situation Room Page 4
Candace shook her head and indulged in her ice cream.
“You’re going to get sick,” Pearl advised.
Candace shrugged.
“Or fat.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Want to talk about it?” Pearl asked.
“About my diet?”
“No, about whatever is bothering you.”
“I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
“Mmm. Let me guess; you’re feeling like you bit off more than you can chew?”
Candace held up a spoonful of ice cream, indulged in it, and sighed with satisfaction.
“I didn’t mean the ice cream,” Pearl said.
“I know. The answer is—yes. I think this is more than anyone can chew, Mom.”
“That bad?”
“Oh, I don’t know if I would say it’s bad. It’s not all bad. It is real. Sometimes, reality is hard to grasp.”
“That’s a fact.”
“It’s crazy. I call Jameson a lunatic. I wonder if that’s a mirror.”
“Well, it takes a bit of lunacy to live in this world,” Pearl offered. “And, I won’t lie to you, anyone willing to take on what you have has to have a touch of insanity in their heart.”
“Thanks.”
“You know what I’m saying.”
“I think so,” Candace admitted.
“So? Why aren’t you off looking for your wife?”
“She’s with Laura this afternoon,” Candace replied. “She seemed focused this morning on making some decisions.”
“About?”
“About where she’d like to invest her time and effort as the first spouse. If I dare call her a lady again…”
“You’ll be worshiping alone?”
“You’ve been talking to Shell too much.”
“No. I do love to watch you blush.”
“I don’t blush.”
Pearl laughed. “If only you could see your face.”
“It’s warm in here.”
“It’s March.”
“Why did we ask you to move here?”
Pearl shrugged. “Want me to go back?”
“No.”
“So, you’re hoping to surprise her with your presence?”
“Not really,” Candace said. She noted Pearl’s growing curiosity. “This morning was the first time I saw a glimmer of excitement in Jameson’s eyes. She’s looking forward to immersing herself in a project.”
“I know this move hasn’t been easy for any of you.”
“What about you?” Candace inquired.
“Me? Do you want the truth?”
Candace chuckled nervously. “I don’t know.”
“I hate seeing both of you constantly trying to protect the other,” Pearl explained. “You need to be honest with each other, Candy. Jameson is worried about burdening you, and you don’t want to make life more stressful for her. That’s making you both crazy.”
Candace smiled. “I know.”
“You know?”
Candace put down the spoon in her hand and placed the cover back on the ice cream container. “We had a long talk.”
“And?”
“You’re right. You know, Jane warned me that the first few months living here would be the hardest.”
“Have you spoken to her recently?”
“Yesterday,” Candace replied.
“How is the former First Lady?”
“Busy. Honest—brutally so.”
“Which you value.”
“More than you know,” Candace said.
“Go on.”
“It’s strange,” Candace began. “Too often people are reserved in giving me their honest assessment about anything. There are the handful of people who are willing to share their passionate opinions. A few possess no filter at all. I expected that. I never thought advisers would be hesitant to advise.”
Pearl nodded.
“You’re not surprised.”
“Should I be?” Pearl shrugged. “Candy, you are the most powerful person in the world. I know you. Jameson knows you. The kids know you. To most of these people, you are President Reid, not Candace.”
“I know.”
“They want to please you.”
Candace groaned. “It isn’t about pleasing me. Most days, I’m not making decisions that please me.”
“The lesser of two evils?”
“Something like that. Things don’t make it to my desk unless all the channels and all the desks before mine failed to find a solution. That’s a fact.”
“What advice did Jane give you?”
“The same that you just did—don’t hold back with Jameson. And, push—push people for the truth and every detail I can possibly get.”
“Why do I think there’s more?”
“There’s always more.”
Pearl held Candace’s gaze firmly.
“Keep the people you trust closer than you ever have. That was her advice,” Candace explained.
“And, the ones you don’t trust?”
Candace sighed. “That’s the problem, Mom. Where I sit now, I have to rely on who I know I can trust.”
Pearl nodded her understanding.
Candace disliked facing the reality that ambition and competing agendas often compromised transparency, if not truthfulness. She’d dealt with overzealous interns, idealistic advisers, single-minded cabinet members, and plenty of blowhards as a senator and as a governor. Sitting in the Oval Office placed her in a position that made some people reluctant to engage at all, and others determined to undermine her. A single decision placed in her lap had the ability to directly impact people across an ocean and down the street. She wished that navigating the presidency was as much about crafting policy as it was crisis management. Every issue that arose qualified as a crisis in some corner. Without evidence, cold facts, and without thoughtful discernment from experts she trusted, Candace’s decisions would never be as well-informed as she desired.
“People hold back,” Candace explained.
“I imagine they do.”
“I have to decide if their lack of transparency denotes a lack of trust in me or is reason for me to be skeptical of their intentions.” Candace moved to put away the container of ice cream. “I need this weekend.” Inevitably, Candace knew she would be called away. It might be for a few minutes, a few hours, or an entire evening. She hoped for as little intrusion as possible. She had a meeting the following day that would command her attention for a few hours. If Candace had anything to say about it, as much as possible, her weekend would be spent enjoying time with her family.
“For what it’s worth, I have faith you’ll learn to balance it all,” Pearl said.
“I have to.”
“You will.” Pearl squeezed Candace’s hand.
“Where are you off to?” Candace asked.
“Off to get Cooper at school with Agent Farley.”
“Feel like some company?”
“Don’t you need to schedule that?”
Candace shrugged. “Oh, they’ll pitch a fit. They do work for me,” she reminded Pearl. “I’ll call Blake.
“You’re going to give Agent Everson a heart attack before you’re done.”
Candace laughed. “It keeps him on his toes. I’ll meet you downstairs,” she said with a wink as she left the room.
Pearl shook her head as Candace left. Or knocks him on his ass.
***
“You’ve been quiet,” Scott observed.
“Have I?” Marianne asked.
“Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing is bothering me.”
“Are you worried about your mother and JD?”
“Do you mean their marriage?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Marianne said. “They’ll get through whatever the world sends their way.”
“What gives?”
“It’s a
little strange—going to visit your mother in the White House.”
“It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve been there.”
“No,” Marianne agreed. “It’s still strange.”
“Do you wish she hadn’t been elected?”
“No. I’m proud of her. I just—”
“Miss them.”
Marianne nodded.
“Why do I think there is something more going on?”
“I’m worried about JD.”
“JD? Why?”
“When we talked the other day, she brought up you and me having a baby.”
“What?”
Marianne raised her brow.
“Okay—why does that worry you?” Scott wondered.
“Scott—”
“What? I’m not following. JD knows that eventually we want to have a baby.”
“Yes, she does.”
“What does that have to do with JD? She loves kids.”
Marianne loved the openness she shared with Scott. Jameson was her best friend—the best friend she’d ever had. There were things they discussed that Marianne knew Jameson hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Candace. Sure, Jameson had shared facts and her decisions with Candace. She’d only confided her feelings to one person, and that person was Marianne.
“Hey, if something is wrong with JD, I’d like to know. I mean, if she needs my help or—”
“It’s not like that,” Marianne said. “She’s been dealing with a lot,” she offered. “Not just moving and Mom being in this position.”
“Okay?”
Marianne sighed. “JD—Scott, JD found out a few months back that she wouldn’t be able to get pregnant.”
Scott was confused. “I know I should, but I don’t get it.”
Marianne giggled and kissed him on the cheek.
“Are you trying to tell me that JD wants to have a baby? JD?”
“I don’t know if she wants to have a baby,” Marianne replied. “I think she hoped she’d be able to make that decision with Mom.”
“Shit. I never thought she’d want to have a kid.”
“She has a kid,” Marianne reminded him lightly.
“You know what I mean. JD pregnant? I can’t see it.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s JD.”
Marianne frowned. “And?”
“Just, it’s JD. JD likes to climb roofs and trees. I can’t imagine her—”
“Pregnant?”
“Or buying cribs and stuff. Coop is a kid, not a baby.”
“JD is amazing with babies.”
“Yeah, but she didn’t give birth to them.”
Marianne shook her head.
“What did I say?”
“Please tell me you aren’t saying this because JD is a lesbian.”
Scott shrugged.
“Oh, my God. You’re not serious.”
“Why are you mad?”
“Shell and Melanie are a lesbian couple. Mom is a lesbian.”
“Yeah, but that’s different.”
“That is the stupidest thing you’ve ever said.”
“What did I say?”
Marianne looked out the airplane window.
“Marianne, what did I say? I grew up with JD. She never acted like she wanted babies. That’s all I’m saying.”
Marianne needed a moment to still her rising temper. She adored Scott. His current observations infuriated and offended her. He loved Jameson. She knew that. She wondered if he’d taken the time to get to know his cousin as an adult—to listen to Jameson Reid the woman, not JD the goofy cousin he’d gone camping with as a kid.
“Marianne?”
“JD isn’t fifteen, Scott. I know you’ve known her longer. I’m not sure how well you know her now.”
“What does that even mean? I love JD.”
“I know. JD is also Jameson.”
Scott threw up his hands.
“She’s a woman, Scott—one who loves my mom and loves being a mom. Why is it inconceivable to you that she would want to have a baby?”
“Like you said, she is already a mom.”
“Yes, she is, and she loves Cooper more than anything. I think both she and mom would’ve liked to have a baby together. They missed that. JD is—”
“What?”
“She’s my best friend.”
“I know.”
“She’s also my step-parent. She’s Spencer and Maddie’s grandmother. They might call her Jay Jay or J—she is their grandparent. It’s hard for her—watching all of us have babies and knowing that she can’t. She might be happy for us, it still hurts her a little.”
“They could adopt again.”
“They could. That’s not the point.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Really? What if we tried to have a baby and the doctor told you that you couldn’t father our child?”
“I guess we’d find an alternative.”
“I’m sure we would. You’re telling me that wouldn’t hurt you? Not even a little? You wouldn’t feel any disappointment?”
Scott closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course, I would.”
Marianne was aware of Scott’s daydreams—daydreams about the day he’d come home to the news that Marianne was expecting. “Then why can’t you grasp how JD feels? Don’t you think she would have loved to give Mom that news?”
“I guess I never thought about it. She never said anything to me about wanting babies.”
“She’s never said anything to anyone.”
“Except you.”
“And Pearl and Mom,” Marianne offered. “She plays it off, Scott—like it’s no big deal. It is. Mel’s expecting, we’re looking at children in our future. I’ll bet Jonah and Laura add one more. It’s not easy for her. Don’t say anything to her,” she warned her fiancée.
“I won’t. Listen, you know JD, she’s tough.”
“Being strong doesn’t mean you can’t break a little,” Marianne replied. “We both know that.” Jameson might be strong, she wasn’t made of stone—quite the contrary. Marianne knew that.
Scott took Marianne’s hand. Her words held great truth. Life wasn’t always fair. There were many types of loss a person could experience, and every loss changed a person—if only slightly. He squeezed her hand gently. Jameson and Candace had been Marianne’s lifeline at the darkest moment in her life. She loved them. She treasured them. Like her mother, she was fiercely protective of the people she loved. Jameson topped that list. “She’s lucky to have you,” he said.
“I just wish I could fix it.”
Scott held back a chuckle. Marianne and Jameson shared many things in common—a need to fix things paramount among them. Two of a kind.
***
“Mommy!” Cooper bolted for Candace.
“Are you surprised to see me?” Candace asked.
Cooper nodded. “Can you come to my classroom?”
Agent Blake Everson looked at Candace. “Madame President,” he began.
Candace grimaced. She understood the concerns of the Secret Service. No one knew she was here, and no one had any idea she’d planned to visit. She was confident there would be no planned threat to confront. That didn’t mean a situation couldn’t arise. She knew that too.
“My teacher is still here,” Cooper explained. “You can see my desk!”
Agent Everson sighed lightly. “We’ll need a few minutes,” he advised Candace. He turned his attention to Cooper’s detail. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. He turned back to the agents standing beside Candace. “Don’t let her wander.”
Candace laughed. “Am I that bad?”
Everson smiled.
“I thought they were missing those muscles,” Pearl commented.
“What?” Candace asked.
“Smile muscles,” Pearl said.
Candace laughed harder. “It’s rare. It happens.” She looked at Cooper. “We have to wait for Agent Everson and Jeff, okay?”
Cooper n
odded again and leaned against his mother. Candace let her fingers toy with the curls on his head. She missed these moments. She missed the ability to be autonomous. Preparing for life in a bubble was impossible. Being governor gave her a small taste of what life as the president would offer—a small taste. In New York, she’d been able to make plans on the spur of the moment. She also had the benefit of the familiarity of home. Even in Albany, Candace felt at home. She could easily make the trip to Schoharie for an evening or for a weekend. Two months in the White House offered Candace more than one stark realization. In time, her life would allow her greater freedom and mobility. That time remained years in the distance, and that reality impacted everyone who loved her—Cooper and Jameson most of all.
“Was it a good day?” Candace asked Cooper.
“Yep! We wrote stories.”
“Did you?”
“Yep.”
“What did you write about?”
“Spence and me.”
Candace smiled. Cooper missed Spencer sorely. The pair were as close as any two siblings Candace had ever known. Cooper was lonely. Candace couldn’t blame her son. No matter how much time Jameson and Pearl spent with Cooper, and regardless of Candace’s commitment to step away and be with him, the attention and love of adults could not replace the comradery of a friend. School helped. It did not alleviate Cooper’s loneliness. “You know, Spencer will be here in a few hours.”
“Yep!” Cooper grinned excitedly. “He’s gonna stay in my room!”
“That’s what I hear,” Candace said. Her eyes drifted to Agent Everson as he approached. “Are we all set?”
Everson nodded. “Please, don’t make this a habit,” he whispered.
“Define habit,” Candace replied with a wink. She was sure she heard him groan. “Come on, Cooper, let’s go say hello to your teacher.”
***
“I don’t like it,” Alex Toles said.
“Since when does anyone care what we like?” Claire Brackett replied.
“That’s fair.”
“Too bad Dmitri isn’t still around.”
“Kargen? Claire, Dmitri Kargen was—”
“Connected—he was connected.”
“And you had a connection with him.”
“I’m not sure I’d say that,” Claire responded. “I hated the son of a bitch. He was easy to manipulate at times.”
Alex pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d like to say that she was surprised to find herself immersed in the spy game again; she wasn’t. Some part of Alex had always expected the day would come when she would need to confront the sins of her father, and the manner in which the deceptions of the past continued to dictate the present. As far as Alex was concerned, hunting serial killers was child’s play compared to searching for assassins. Only one thing was more dangerous than a person who killed for sport—a person who murdered for money. She’d spent years traversing the dark corners of international politics. Politics encompassed everything. The public witnessed the façade. Many people worked on the sometimes bumpy, albeit alluring surface. Most politicians, journalists, and even many field agents only caught the faintest glimpse of what lay below the surface. Both Alex and Claire had witnessed the ugliness that existed when avarice seized control of people’s actions. Hearing the name Dmitri Kargen conjured painful memories for Alex—memories of the lies and betrayals of their fathers—hers, Claire’s, and Cassidy’s. She privately wondered what her children might think twenty years from now when they learned all that she’d done—all that she had discovered.