by Sally Quinn
They rode to the White House in silence. There were so many things she wanted to talk to him about, tell him, ask him. She had missed him so terribly. She wondered what he had been doing these last six weeks or so. She had talked to Judy Sokolow occasionally, and she had said that Michael had gone into seclusion, that he didn’t want to see anybody, do anything. As far as Judy knew he hadn’t spoken to Giselle. There was no thought that she might come back from France. It was so frustrating to be sitting so near him and not be able to touch him or talk to him about anything real. Yet anything she wanted to say was personal and with the agents sitting in the front seat it wasn’t possible. It was like being in a crowded elevator. They couldn’t discuss Freddy for that reason either. She was not supposed to know anything about him, anyway. Certainly Michael would never have discussed it with her.
He was leaning up against the door of the opposite side of the car as if to avoid even the barest physical contact with her. She found herself staring at his hand, which was on the seat between them, another barrier. The line of demarcation. Do not come any closer. She now knew what those hands, those strong gentle hands, felt like on her body, touching her, holding her. It was all she could do not to reach out and put her hand over his. Instead, she put her hand next to his, so close she could feel the warmth of his skin.
He looked down at her hand, then up at her. He hadn’t expected her to be looking at him. When their eyes met he couldn’t look away. Neither could she. Those eyes. God!
“Hi,” she said and smiled.
It was such an intimate moment. He was stunned. His eyes became kaleidoscopes, changing emotions like colors and shapes. Grief, anger, hurt, pain, fear, confusion, suspicion, conflict, longing, need, relief, happiness.
“Hi.”
She moved her hand slightly until it covered his. She held her breath. Slowly he turned his hand around until their palms were touching and squeezed her hand, never changing his distant posture on the other side of the car.
They were just turning into the south gate of the White House.
The Secret Service agent turned to speak to her and they pulled their hands away quickly as if they had each touched a hot frying pan.
The usher was waiting at the diplomatic entrance for them and took them immediately upstairs to the family quarters. Blanche was waiting, perched on the sofa in the sitting area nervously thumbing through a fashion magazine. She leaped up when she saw them and ran over to embrace Sadie. She looked a mess. Her platinum hair, usually done up and sprayed to perfection, was loose and tangled, hanging below her shoulders. Her lipstick was worn off and her mascara was smudged under her eyes from crying. Her face was so pale that it made her look like a frightened doll. She was wearing stretch leggings and a cotton pullover. Sadie had to suppress a smile. Blanche did not exactly present the image one normally had of a First Lady.
“Where is he?” Michael, standing next to them, was grim and all business.
“He’s in his study. He’s been coughing a lot and he’s real short of breath. He has a fever. He didn’t let me take his temperature but he’s burnin’ up. And he’s sweating like a pig.”
“I’ll need to see him,” said Michael, and Blanche led him over to the door that went into the President’s private upstairs office. She started to go in with him but Sadie heard Freddy bark out “Leave me alone with him” and then dissolve into fits of coughing.
Blanche turned back to Sadie, took her by the arm, and led her to the sofa where she collapsed in tears.
“I think he’s positive, Sadie.”
Sadie looked shocked.
“How do you know? Did Michael tell him?”
“No, he won’t talk about it. All he does is drink himself to sleep at night. But he hasn’t touched me since Michael came to see him after the test and he used to be all over me. He’s always been real horny but now he just doesn’t seem interested at all. Which is just as well since I’d be scared to death. The White House doctors are bound to find out pretty soon. I don’t see how we can keep this quiet. What are we going to do, Sadie? What am I going to do?” She started crying again. “Oh God, what a mess. Just when things were starting to go great.”
Sadie tried to comfort Blanche while her mind raced. Blanche was very convincing. Freddy must have tested positive or else he wouldn’t be acting and looking the way he did. This could be a disaster, and one that the country surely did not need. First one President, Roger Kimball, having a stroke and having to resign. Then Rosey assassinated. Now Freddy testing positive for HIV. It was too much. Somehow this thing had to be contained. But how? It was more than she really wanted to deal with now. She would have to discuss it with Michael. If he would discuss it with her.
Michael came out of Freddy’s room after about half an hour. Sadie and Blanche were still on the sofa, Blanche puffing nervously on a cigarette.
He walked over and pulled up a chair next to Blanche.
“I think the President has pneumonia,” he said. “I’ve told him I’m going to have to examine him, do some X-rays, take a sputum test, and give him intravenous antibiotics. He’s going to have to come back with me to the NIH.”
“Is that all you’re going to tell me, Michael?” said Blanche, her voice shaking.
“That’s all I can tell you now. I’m sorry.”
“Goddammit, Michael. I’m his wife. And he hasn’t had sex with me since you came to see him after his test, not since his test.” She was extremely upset. “He won’t even talk to me. And you can’t talk to me?”
Sadie had never felt so sorry for anybody as she did for Blanche. As much as she herself had been through, at least she had managed to keep her dignity and Rosey had died a hero. This was the ultimate degradation, and so undeserved for Blanche. She also felt sorry for Michael. He was clearly under severe constraints given the doctor-patient relationship and his duty to maintain privacy. But on a human and a political level he was going to come up against it pretty soon. He couldn’t just keep this to himself. Michael had some serious decisions to make. Soon it wouldn’t be up to just Freddy and him.
He watched Blanche for a moment, then went to her, put his arms around her, and held her while she cried. He was very gentle with her, very tender, and Sadie was reminded once more why she loved him. Beneath the flip, stoic, aloof facade was a person who understood and responded to human suffering.
“Michael, I’m so scared. What are we going to do?”
“I know how you must feel. I’ve asked the President to talk to you. I don’t think he understands how agonizing it has been for you to be shut out like this. Carrying this burden by yourself. He needs you now, too. As soon as he gets better the three of us will sit down together and figure this thing out, okay? Now I want you to help him get ready. He’ll need an unmarked car. Can you arrange this with the Secret Service? If he doesn’t want to be recognized you might think of some kind of disguise. A hat or something. Many of our celebrity patients do it. It’s not unusual. I’ll call my staff and get them set up to receive him. It will be after seven by the time we get there. We can go in through the underground garage and up to an examining room with not much chance of being seen. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours.”
“I’m coming with you,” Blanche announced.
“I wouldn’t advise it even with a disguise,” he said. “It will greatly reduce your chances of being able to keep this private. We’ll use an assumed name. But if you’re with us… I just don’t see how… the clinic is about the least secure place I can think of.”
“Just give me a minute. Sadie, I want you to come with me. I don’t want to be alone.”
“There’s no way you can keep this under wraps with the three of you walking in there together. The three most famous people in the world. We might as well get the presidential limousine and alert the press corps downstairs and get up a pool.”
“Trust me, Doctor,” she said. “You go on and make your phone calls, we’ll be ready when you get back.”
&nbs
p; Blanche grabbed Sadie and dragged her into the bedroom while Michael went to the phone.
When they finally emerged, Michael didn’t recognize either one of them. Sadie was wearing one of Blanche’s wigs and Blanche wore a mousy brown wig and horned rim glasses. Freddy came out of his room a few minutes later in a cowboy hat and dark glasses and a long wool scarf covering most of his face.
“I’ve called the Secret Service,” said Blanche without a smile. You and Freddy will go together in his car. Sadie and I will follow in hers. Let’s go.”
* * *
Freddy’s car led the way with Sadie’s following. When they reached the Clinical Center at the NIH they pulled into the underground garage. There were two men waiting at the garage elevator with a wheelchair. As they all got out of their cars Michael explained that Freddy would be better disguised if he were in a wheelchair covered with a blanket, holding his head down so that nobody could see his face. Michael also asked that Sadie and Blanche stay back for several minutes and let Freddy and Michael go first. With all the Secret Service it would be too obvious for them to go at the same time.
Freddy was wheeled onto the elevator, which had to be unlocked by the waiting guard since it stopped operating at 7:00 P.M. They watched the two men and the entourage disappear. Shortly after that the other man who had been waiting for them as they arrived escorted Blanche and Sadie up to the floor where they were to examine Freddy. As they walked down the long empty corridors Sadie was amazed at how eerily silent they were compared to how crowded and bustling they had been earlier in the afternoon. She was relieved that, except for one nurse who seemed oblivious to them, they didn’t see another living soul. Michael took the President into one small, windowless examining room while the two women waited in an adjoining examining room. Freddy refused to go down to X-ray so Michael had an X-ray machine brought up to him, though he explained that this would not be the optimum care. After the X-ray he gave Freddy an injection of antibiotics, then returned to Blanche and Sadie. He offered to talk to Blanche privately but she wouldn’t hear of it and insisted that Sadie stay with them.
“She’s my only real friend now and the only one who understands what I’m going through. I’ll need her help and advice. Whatever you can say to me you can say to her.”
“Freddy has asked me to tell you the truth,” said Michael, as he took Blanche’s hands in his. Sadie swallowed hard. There was no question now what the news was.
“The results of his first test were positive. He had refused to have a second one, although we’ve just given him another one now.”
“What does that mean?” Blanche’s face cracked into tiny lines of anguish, and the tears started coming again.
“It means that he might go for years with no symptoms and never develop AIDS or he could develop AIDS within a year or so. We have no way of knowing. Once we’ve gotten the results of these tests we’ll probably start him on AZT. We’ll do an experimental combination of AZT and DDC, which is a cousin of AZT. That will help avoid the emergence of the resistant strain. The two drugs act synergistically, which means they work together. We’ll also get him started on aerosolized pentamidine, which he will inhale biweekly.”
“But the campaign. We’re right in the middle of a campaign. The convention is only two months away and the election is in November. What are we going to do? Freddy is sure to win the election.”
“I’m a doctor, not a politician,” Michael said. “I can’t advise you on that. I’m sorry.”
“Oh my God,” said Blanche, burying her face in her hands. “This is just too much for me, Sadie. I can’t do this. I just want to go home and forget the whole thing. I never wanted to be here in the first place. I hate being First Lady. I’ve always felt like an outsider. I know they all make fun of me behind my back. Just wait till they hear about this. I always wished he wouldn’t run this time. Now I know he shouldn’t. But he’ll never drop out of the campaign. I’ve seen what power does to people in this town. Once they get a taste of it they can’t let it go.”
She was beginning to babble.
“Lord,” she said, wiping away her tears and trying to smile. “Just listen to me carryin’ on, and makin’ no sense.”
“I’m going to check on the President,” said Michael, “and then I’m going to send you both home. You need some rest.”
He got up and walked out of the room.
“Sadie,” Blanche said. “You’ve got to help me. You’ve got to tell me what to do. I can’t do this without you. I can’t do this alone.”
* * *
It was almost nine when Michael escorted Freddy down to his car, with Blanche and Sadie following. Blanche got in the car with Freddy and Sadie hugged and kissed her. When their car pulled away Michael walked Sadie to her car.
“Michael, would you, uh, would you like to come home with me and have supper?” she asked tentatively. “I don’t want to go home alone. I just feel like having somebody to talk to.”
What she didn’t say was that she really wanted to be with him, but then, she didn’t have to. He knew it.
He paused for a moment.
“I… actually I’m supposed to be having dinner with the Sokolows. I called them a while ago and told them an emergency had come up but they said they’d hold dinner. Maybe they could scrape enough together for one more. Knowing Judy, she’ll have enough to feed an army. If you could drive me over to my office, I’ll get my coat and call her from there.”
He jumped into her car and she couldn’t help letting out an enormous sigh of gratitude and relief. He wanted to be with her, too. She could tell.
A few minutes later he was back with a smile. Judy not only had enough food, she was thrilled, they were to come immediately.
Sadie loved the Sokolows but never more than this night. They were warm and hospitable and made her feel completely at home. She realized that she had never been to their house before. It was a smallish house near American University with a central hallway and a living room, a dining room, and a kitchen-family room downstairs. It had a round table and French doors that opened onto a deck, letting in the warm spring night air. The table was set there.
They all had a little too much wine, sitting around the candlelit table. The evening was cozy and relaxed and the four of them fell into the same camaraderie they had established at La Samanna. They even let Sadie help clear the dishes and serve the dessert. Nobody ever let her do that and she loved it. She was sick of being treated like a First Lady instead of a friend. This was just perfect. It was also a nice distraction from the sadness of the evening.
After dinner Sid announced that since Judy had done all the cooking he was going to clean up.
“Oh, I’ll help,” said Sadie.
“Great,” said Judy. “That will give me a chance to talk some more with Michael. C’mon,” she said to him, picking up her wineglass and a bottle. “Let’s go out on the deck. It’s so nice out tonight.” And the two of them disappeared outside.
Sadie and Sid stayed in the kitchen, where Sid began rinsing the dishes while Sadie scraped and put things away in the ice box. They had taken their wineglasses into the kitchen with them and another bottle of wine. Sadie knew she had had too much to drink but she didn’t care. She was enjoying herself for the first time in ages.
When they finished, Sid made no move to join Judy and Michael outside. He poured them each another glass of wine.
As he was refilling hers he looked up at her.
“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
She considered pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Yes.”
“That’s what I thought… you know what you’re getting into?”·
“You mean what I’ve already gotten into? As my friend Jenny Stern would say, on the oy vey scale of one to ten this is a ten.”
“This is a very complicated guy, Sadie.”
“That was part of the attraction.”
“Was?”
“
Is.”
“Of course he’s in love with you. I can’t blame him for that. But he may not be able to deal with it.”
“Why not, Sid? That’s what I don’t understand. He is in love with me. He’s told me so. I’m not married and now he’s separated.”
She paused, not knowing whether to ask the next question. What the hell. They’d had enough wine.
“Why did they separate anyway?”
“They were too young when they married. They just grew apart. It happens.”
That was it. That was pretty much what Michael had told her on the beach at La Samanna. Sid clearly didn’t want to discuss it any further.
“Why did she get pregnant?” She couldn’t help asking. She had to know.
Sid looked at her, clearly trying to decide whether to say any more.
“I suspect it was just a foolish last attempt on her part to hold onto a dying marriage. But it backfired. Her pregnancy only served to crystalize all the free-floating hostility in their relationship. It blew the whole thing apart.”
“Do you think she’ll come back to him?”
“I doubt it. But who can tell about those things? I don’t think he wants her back. He’s in love with you.”
“So what’s the problem?” she asked. “I just don’t get it. I’ve even been to a rabbi for advice. You’ve got to help me. You’re his best friend. You know him better than anyone. I just can’t figure him out.”
“Sadie, what’s to figure? The guy is scared to death.”
“Of what? I love him.”
“That’s not enough. Look. He’s fallen in love with you. He’s very sexually attracted to you. You are the former First Lady. You’re gorgeous, you’re very rich, you transcend famous. And you’re a gentile. That would be enough to put off almost any man alive. He’s just a nice Jewish boy who grew up on the fringes of society. He’s afraid he wouldn’t be able to live up to your expectations. You live on a different planet. He’s worried about getting his kids through college, paying his mortgage, supporting himself in his old age. You live in a rarefied atmosphere where money and society are concerned. You’re used to seeing captains of industry, heads of state, movie stars. The whole world is at your feet. There is nowhere you are not accepted, welcomed. And all this you take for granted.”
