by Beth Fred
“Um, under the grounds of a thirteen year old raped by her father that Simpleton presented? Yeah. I guess in that case I’m pro-abortion.”
“And under normal circumstances?”
“I don’t think abortion should be used as birth control, but I don’t think a woman who was raped or might die in childbirth should be forced to have a baby.”
“You would have to be reasonable.”
Amanda smiled. “Come to bed, old man.”
I rip my clothes off and throw them in the floor before sliding into bed next to my wife.
“Eric?”
I wrap my arms around her, drawing her closer to me. I press my lips against her shoulder. “Yes?”
“What if I were pro-abortion?”
I pull slightly away from her. “Then our relationship would have to become platonic again, because I wouldn’t risk creating a life only to end it before it had a chance to live or making a murderer out of a woman I love.”
“You’re the best man I know. And I love you. If I were carrying your child, I would protect it with my life.” The words come out in a breathy whisper. Pale blue eyes peer into mine.
I take her lips between mine in gentle kisses until she pants and opens her mouth. I slip my tongue over hers and taste the inside of her mouth. Taste Amanda. My grip on her becomes firmer, and I position myself over her.
She moans my name, but I haven’t done more than kiss her. She wraps her legs around me and pushes her pelvis into my briefs. My hands roam under her nightgown, sometimes massaging, sometimes just feeling. My fingers trace her spine. I slide the nightgown over her head.
“I love you,” she moans.
Her hands slide under the elastic of my boxer briefs. Her nails graze the skin of my bare butt.
“I’ve never wanted anything so bad,” I whisper between kisses. She pushes my underwear down to my legs then uses her foot to kick them away.
I push into her lace panties. The only thing present between us. I slide my finger under one side, planning to push them away, going for gentle. Instead, I rip them off. I press my body into hers and let my wife heal the pain. Both the stress of the night and pain she will never even know about.
“Hold me tighter,” she pleads.
I tighten my arms under her back, press her to me so firmly no inch of her skin is away from my own, and I put my tongue in her mouth again because being in her isn’t enough. I need all of Amanda Martinez.
Her nails dig into my back, trace up to my spine. She tugs on my hair as she pulls my head closer to deepen the kiss. She breaks away and screams for more. I plunge deeper and harder into her. She asks for more, and I drive deeper still. Her legs shake, and still, she begs for more. I’m so ready for my own release it hurts to keep going, but Mandy will have all of me she wants. I’ll make sure of it.
Her legs shake uncontrollably. Tears roll from her eyes. “I love you,” she pants. I kiss the tears and release inside of her. Her body clenches around me, her shaking legs tighten, and she screams my name.
We shower together. Each stealing kisses under the warm water of the showerhead. We wrap each other in oversized towels afterward, and I carry her back to the bed. I watch as Amanda drifts off to sleep and smile down at the angel on my arm. She snort snores and then drools on my arm. I pull the blanket tighter around her and kiss her forehead.
Whether I win or lose, this election is the best thing that has ever happened to me. It brought me Mandy.
***
The morning has a completely different mood. Mandy, dressed in a black dress and sunglasses, sits in an oversized chair in front of the TV. I smile and stretch my arms out for her. “Why are you so far away from me?”
“Senator, you’ll be late if you don’t get dressed.”
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Eric, cut the shit. Just get up and get dressed, so we can get started. Your breakfast is on your nightstand.”
“Amanda, what’s wrong? Why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”
She pushes the black sunglasses up to sit on top of her blonde bob. Her eyes are red and slightly swollen like she’s been crying. Before I can ask what’s wrong, she says, “I was hired to do a job, and I will do it. But I won’t be in your concubine.”
“Concubine?”
“Who is Clarissa?”
Fuck.
Chapter 29
Mandy
“Damn it, Eric, who is Clarissa?”
His mouth drops open. “If you don’t want to sleep on the couch tonight, you better have one of your henchmen bring up a cot. We have a campaign event in less than an hour, and as much as you disgust me, you’re better than the alternative.”
He pushes the blankets aside and stands up. Blood rushes under my cheeks at the sight of his physical perfection and the memories of being cradled to him last night. “It’s not what you think,” he says.
And I want to believe him. I really want to believe him. I turn my back. Politicians are all the same. “Get dressed,” I say.
“You won’t even look at me?”
That doesn’t require an answer.
“Amanda, Clarissa is no one. She’s someone I knew in law school. That’s all. I’ve got jeans on. Turn around and face me. Where did you even hear that name? The tabloids? Sweetheart, if we’re going to make it, you’re going to have to quit believing everything you read.”
I spin around to face him. “You want to know where I heard her name? You said it over and over in your sleep. You made love to me then you called her name. All night. I hate you.” I walk to the door and put my hand on the knob.
“Where are you going?”
“To buy a tabloid. There is obviously something you’re not willing to fill me in on.”
“I-I’m not having an affair.”
“Of course, not. We have an arrangement. I don’t think fidelity was ever part of it. It’s okay that you’re in love with her. But it’s not okay to love her and touch me.”
“I love you.”
“Be downstairs in time for our ride. It’s a swing state. You can’t afford to fuck up here.” I walk out, letting the door shut behind me.
Chapter 30
Eric
“I love you,” I mumble again to the shut door.
That bitch would come back to haunt me. I put on a shirt and boots, make sure to appear presentable enough for campaigning, then go to the hotel gift shop. I walk up to the cash register.
An old gray-haired woman smooths her blue apron and looks at me. “Can I help you?”
“I need every rose you have.”
“You sure? I’ve got a hundred and sixteen today.”
“I’ll take them. Can you make some really nice bouquets out of them?”
“I’m sure I can, but the expression on your face says you’re gonna need more than roses. What did you do?”
I scan the area to make sure no one else is around. “My wife thinks I’m in love with my ex-fiancée.”
She nods. “Yeah. It’s going to take more than flowers to fix that one. Why does she think that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s been my experience a woman usually thinks that for a reason. You want a diamond?”
“Why not?” It can’t hurt.
I find Mandy standing beside the sliding glass doors, wrapped in her cashmere coat.
“Hey, sweetheart,” I say, handing her a diamond pendant and the flowers.
A shutter clicks. In front of us, we find a hotel clerk with a camera phone and Evan, his iPhone lens zoomed in on us.
She rolls her eyes and moves closer to me. “If the cameras weren’t here, I’d throw them at you,” she whispers.
***
Our first stop is a retirement community. This should be laid back. I do well with older voters. I see Mandy clasp her bouquet and get out of the bus with it. Maybe there is hope. An hour later, we meet back at the bus. Mandy walks toward the bus clustered between middle age to elderly women all clasping a r
ose or two, each fighting for a chance to touch my wife.
She smiles at them. “I hope to come back and see you before we have to leave the state in a couple of days. It was nice to meet with you.”
A chorus of “You too,” and “Please come back,” is sung. An old man nudges my arm with his elbow.
“Yes?”
“You better keep that one. They’ll be linin’ up to take your place.”
Amanda tightens the cashmere coat around her black dress, which only makes it harder not to notice her full breasts. She’s not thin, but she’s perfect. “They will, won’t they?”
Once we’re in our town car, I say, “You gave your flowers away.”
“Can you blame me?”
***
Our next event is at a church full of families. Mandy hangs back. She occasionally compliments a mom on how cute her kids are or talks to a young girl about career choices, but her heart isn’t in this today. My fault. I step behind her and place my hand on the small of her back. She glares at me then restores her calm smile so swiftly no one else notices. A woman says, “Mandy, you’re so intelligent. How do you stand being married to such a woman hater?”
Mandy laughs. “He may get a little gung-ho in his responses sometimes, but Eric means well. Will you excuse me? I need to run down the hall.”
After the event, as we make our way to the caravan, Evan moves to my side. “I’m riding with you and Mandy. We have to talk.”
“Began no good conversation ever,” Mandy says.
Chapter 31
Mandy
Evan and Eric climb into the backseat of the town car. I tap on the passenger side window. It slides down.
The driver, a chubby black man, tips his hat to me. “What do you need?”
“Do you mind if I ride up here with you?”
He chuckles. “My honor, ma’am.”
I open the door and get in.
“One of those knuckleheads in the backseat upset you?”
“Ah. Nothing unexpected, but then I have a knucklehead threshold and it’s been met for the day.” Maybe for a lifetime.
Evan leans up between the driver and me. “This is how it’s going to work. As soon as we get to an unpopulated area, you’re going to pull over, and Amanda is going to get in the backseat with the Senator before we pull up to the Town Hall.”
I turn to meet his eyes and bring two fingers up to my head to salute him. “No, sir, drill sergeant, sir.”
“Leave her alone,” Eric says.
“I will not. All of the pundits are calling you a woman hater. Your wife needs to be supporting you,” Evan says.
“I have done that, but just because I’m endorsing him doesn’t mean we have to hang out, okay?”
“It’s exactly what it means. You have to act like you like him. And you’ve never had a problem with that before, so what’s the deal?”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
“Changed your mind?” Evan asks.
The driver laughs.
I reposition the vents to blow heat more directly on me before answering him. If I have to deal with knuckleheads, I might as well be comfortable. “Eric is sitting beside you, so I’m trying to be nice. Maybe I don’t like him anymore, like to the point I’m not sure I would spit on him if he were on fire.”
Evan drops his head to his hand. “I never really considered that, but this is why I advised against involving emotions. Damn it. I should have thought of that. Okay, this is how it’s going to work. As soon as we come to an unpopulated place, you’re going to pull over and get out of the car for fifteen minutes.”
The driver chuckles. “You gonna leave me beside the road?”
“No, but I have to have a powwow.”
“Rich people are funny. A poor man’s wife gets this pissed off and it’s time for serious sucking up. And you’ll be on the couch for a week if you let a friend get involved with it,” the driver says.
I laugh.
The driver shakes his head. “Sweetheart, you need a better man.”
“He’s a good guy for—” I close my mouth as I realize I’m about to say Clarissa. I don’t want to cost Eric a vote.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Eric says.
“I didn’t finish the sentence,” I snap.
The urban sprawl thins out into an evergreen forest, and the driver pulls over just like Evan dictated. He gets out of the car with a huge coffee cup and goes to stand beside a tree.
“What the hell is going on?” Evan asks.
“Nothing,” Eric and I answer.
“What is going on?” Evan asks again, this time every word its own sentence.
“Nothing,” Eric repeats.
I laugh. “Ask Clarissa.” I don’t have to worry about Evan not voting for Eric.
Evan puts his fist into the driver seat then turns to Eric. “Are you serious? You’re running for president, so she comes crawling back? What did you do?”
My heart rips in two, and I let my back slide against the seat. “Guess I should have found a tabloid.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That woman in the front seat has been hanging on your every word since the first time I saw you together. Something happened.”
“No! It didn’t. I haven’t seen Clarissa since law school, and if she did come back, I wouldn’t talk to her. I’m married to a better woman.”
“Awesome. So she was your law school girlfriend?” I ask.
“They were engaged,” Evan says.
“I can’t campaign. Go without me. Say I’m sick or whatever you have to say. I’ll be back tomorrow, but I need a day, okay?” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to avoid tears, but my voice breaks on that last word and the tears fall down my cheeks.
“What did you do to your wife?” Evan asks.
“Evan, drop it. The whole marriage was a sham. It’s not Eric’s fault. If my dumbass dad would have just paid for my tuition, I wouldn’t be involved with this joke to begin with. And Eric never agreed to like me.”
“Mandy, leave your dad alone. You’re mad at me, not him,” Eric says.
“I’m mad at you both. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be stuck with you.”
“He was right,” Eric said.
“What? Okay. The whole calling your girlfriend’s name in your sleep I could get over, but now you’re defending my dad, who everyone in the world can agree is a jerk? Ugh. I hate you.”
“You’re still obsessed with her after everything?” Evan asks.
“No! And you’re not helping. Shut the fuck up, Evan.”
“Yeah, Evan, be quiet or he and my dad might have to get their NRA friends on you.”
“Amanda,” his voice is stern, “I don’t like the way he talks to you, and I’ve told him that, but he didn’t refuse to pay your tuition to hurt you. He’s trying to help you,” Eric says.
“Help me how? By putting me a billion dollars in debt?”
“Can we talk about this at home?” Eric asks.
Evan put his head in hands. “I really should have made sure you selected someone you had no chance of caring about. I forgot how much drama relationships are.”
Chapter 32
Eric
Evan takes a cab to the event ahead of me. I take Mandy back to the hotel in the town car and hope Evan is able to keep the crowd pacified until I can get there.
“I love you,” I say to Mandy when I walk her to the door.
She gives me a smile that drives me crazy. “You love Clarissa.”
I fucking hate Clarissa Lawrence.
***
Evan insists on coming back to the hotel with me even though I’ve said I need to be alone to think. He’s given the driver the day off and rented a car.
“Talk to me,” he says once we’re back inside the little red sports car.
“About?”
“Eric, the only way you’re going to win this election is to fix your marriage.”
“You heard her. The marr
iage is a sham. There is nothing to fix.”
“You’re down in some of the polls. You know that, right? If this is just an agreement, she will technically be free to go after the New Year. Are you going to be okay with that?”
No. But I don’t answer.
“Are you still in love with Clarissa? I think Mandy is better for you.”
“I had a nightmare.”
“About finding Clarissa?”
I nod.
“You’ve got to tell her.”
“I can’t.”
“Your wife thinks you’re in love with someone else. And I can only think of one reason she would care. The only way to save your marriage is to convince her you’re not in love with anyone else,” Evan says.
“Maybe she’ll forget about it.”
Evan laughs. “Okay, so if she’s in bed with you talking to some guy in her sleep, are you going to forget about it?”
“Probably not.”
“You’ve got one shot. Don’t screw it up.”
Chapter 33
Mandy
I lay on the bed watching Notting Hill. Someone raps the outside of the hotel room door. I’m sure I know who it is, and he can use his key.
I fluff the pillow under my chin and turn up the movie loud enough I know my visitor will hear. Because nothing and no one says I don’t care about you as well as a Julia Roberts movie.
The door opens, and Eric walks in, closing the door behind him. “Can we talk?”
I turn up the volume.
“Come on, Amanda. We need to talk.”
And the volume goes up.
“You can’t cause a scene here,” he says.
“I can do whatever I want.”
