Regrets Only

by Sally Quinn

  The President turned toward the door and walked over to kiss Sadie Grey. “Happy Birthday, Sadie,” he said.

  She put her hands to her hair.

  “Oh, my God, I don’t believe it.” She looked up at Rosey. “Did you plan this?”

  “I sure did.”

  “You sweet thing.”

  As Roger Kimball was greeting her, she looked up and saw Allison Sterling on the landing, Des beside her, his arm around her waist.

  Lorraine was next to Sadie.

  “So we really are having dinner with Allison and Des?” she said.

  Des and Allison were pushed toward the Greys. Allison was smiling. Sadie maintained her grin. Her cheeks hurt.

  “Hey, Des!” the Weekly photographer shouted. “Can I get a picture of the birthday girls with the President?”

  “Relax, Gonzalez.”

  Sadie looked stricken. “Birthday girls? What do you mean, birthday girls?”

  “Well,” said Rosey, “it’s Allison’s birthday as well. So we thought…”

  Sadie stared at Lorraine. “Why, what a wonderful idea. Did you know it was my birthday too, Allison?” she asked sweetly.

  “It’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”

  “Well, then, the party is a success,” said Roger Kimball. He put his arms around them as the photographer snapped. Some guests clapped.

  “My two favorite girls in Washington,” said the President. “And the two prettiest girls I know.”

  “Girls!” said Allison, rolling her eyes.

  “I don’t mind being called a girl,” said Sadie. “At our age, Allison, we ought to be flattered.”

  Allison knew she was four years younger than Sadie. She bit her lip to keep from asking Sadie her age in front of everyone.

  Nobody approached them. They appeared to be deep in conversation, and people were hesitant to interrupt.

  Allison, who had been nervous all day about a story on the power play at the White House, had been hesitant to try to speak to the President. But now she couldn’t resist this opportunity. Pulling him aside, she whispered, “What’s going on, Uncle Rog, with Marbury and Weyhauser?”

  Kimball sighed and looked visibly tired, clearly reluctant to answer. His face suddenly looked a mass of wrinkles, and his shoulders sagged. Allison was instantly sorry she had mentioned it.

  “Oh, poor man,” said Sadie, and turned to the President. “Let’s not bring up something unpleasant when the President’s here to have a good time and celebrate our birthdays.”

  The President looked at Sadie with gratitude.

  Kimball spotted Howard Heinrich coming toward him.

  “Howard!” he called out.

  Howard Heinrich strode over. The two men shook hands. Clearly Kimball liked this tall, dark-haired, elegant-looking man with the graying sideburns and the perpetual smile.

  “Mr. President.” He bowed his head slightly.

  “Where the hell have you been the last two days? You’re supposed to be the Special Counsel to the President and you’re never there when I need you.”

  Kimball was smiling, but there was a serious tone in his voice.

  “I’ve been out on the Coast looking into a certain project we discussed last week, Mr. President.”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “I only just got off the plane. In time to wish these two lovely ladies Happy Birthday.” He beamed at the women and quickly turned back to the President. He had spent enough time on the “ladies.” He spoke more frankly than he normally would at a party, but he knew he could trust the Vice President’s wife. He knew too that he could trust the President’s goddaughter: he was one of Allison’s best sources. Heinrich was also one of the most powerful men in Washington, a survivor in a city where that was a number one attribute. Those who survived in Washington beyond two administrations were automatically part of the Establishment, whatever their party. The Establishment was a club in which everybody got along, a club where ideology was never a priority. Those who burned with political passion when they arrived in Washington left whatever administration they had come in with tempered and mellowed. Even reporters mellowed over the years. Those who’d been in town longest had watched their moral outrage turn into healthy cynicism.

  Nobody knew what Heinrich’s politics was or whether he had any. Women liked him because he was fun to flirt with. Men liked him because he could talk locker-room politics, knew how to play the game. Nobody trusted him, nobody who was a member of the club. Roger Kimball, obviously, was not a member of the club. He was only the President.

  “Mr. President,” said Heinrich. “I don’t think you have a damn thing to worry about. I think you just handled the Marbury thing beautifully. You’ll get a couple of bad days in the press. There’ll be some fallout, but not much.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” said the President, nodding. Heinrich was telling him what he wanted to hear.

  “The only thing that’s too bad is that it happened when it did. Fourth of July week, middle of the summer, slow news. These guys will go with anything in the summer—right, Allison?”

  Allison was annoyed but admiring. Heinrich was talking to the President about exactly what she had just tried for, only to be rebuffed. She had asked; Heinrich had offered.

  Sadie was amused. She adored sitting next to Howard Heinrich at dinner parties for this very reason.

  Before Allison could answer, Senator Bud Corwin and his wife, Helene, had approached the President. “Mr. President,” said Corwin, an adulatory grin on his face.

  “Mr. President,” cooed Helene. “What fun to see you at such an informal gathering. And how lucky these two are. What an honor!”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t stay,” said the President. “In fact”—he glanced at his watch, then looked up at his chief agent and nodded—“it’s just about time for me to be going. I have to speak to the National Education Association in about half an hour.”

  “Oh, no, you mean you’re not staying,” said Sadie. “What a disappointment!”

  “Well, if you, uh, women could get your boys”—he grinned—“to plan ahead, I might have been able to fit it in.

  “I’m just kidding,” he said apologetically. “I’ve had this one on the books since right after the inauguration. Now I’ve got to find Molly.”

  He left Allison and Sadie standing there with the Corwins while he quickly went to the bar and got his wife and brought her back. “Sorry I have to go and miss this good party.”

  He leaned over and kissed Allison on the cheek, then gave her a big hug. For a moment it seemed that his eyes were misting over.

  “I remember when you were just a tiny girl. Now look at you! Sometimes I just can’t believe it. I’m real proud of you, Sonny. You know that, don’t you?”

  Allison felt her throat constrict.

  “Sadie, you’re a beautiful thing. Don’t let that husband of yours forget it. Now, I want you to have a happy birthday too, you understand?”

  He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, then took his wife’s hand and departed with his phalanx of Secret Service agents.

  There was a general sense of relaxation after the President left. Though the Vice President’s Secret Service agents were there, it wasn’t the production it was with the President. And the agents hung back more or less discreetly.

  Rosey walked over to Sadie. “It’s time to see some of your guests before we sit down to dinner in a few minutes. The President stayed longer than we expected.” He grabbed her hand and took her over to the Sohiers.

  Des saw Allison standing there as Rosey and Sadie excused themselves, and he came to take Allison up the stairs to O’Grady and the Boston Gazette crowd.

  “Jesus H. Christ,” said O’Grady, “I’m really surprised the President came. He’s been keeping a low profile all week. He could have pleaded the banquet. He looks terrible. He’s really hurting, so my sources tell me.

  “Did you see Heinrich working him over?” said Allison. She wanted to change the sub
ject.

  “Jesus,” said Des, “that Heinrich fries my ass.”

  “You gotta give him credit, though. He knows how to deal with the big boys,” said O’Grady.

  “Yeah, I suppose. But I still don’t see why anybody trusts the son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Well, shit, Shaw, you trust him,” said O’Grady. “He’s one of your best sources.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he’s one of mine,” said O’Grady, smiling. “And I’ll bet you a lunch at the Maison Blanche that he’s also a very hot source for our own Miss Sterling.”

  “He’s yours too?” gasped Allison in mock horror. “My God, is there nobody in this town we can trust?”

  “Uh-oh,” said O’Grady. “Look at the Corwins kissing the Greys’ ass. They’re giving Heinrich a run for his money.”

  “Why don’t we edge over there and see if we can hear what they’re saying,” said Allison. “I’ll bet it’s enough to make you gag.”

  “Well, sir,” Senator Corwin was whispering, “what do you make of this week’s little episode at the White House? Rather unfortunate, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Well,” said Rosey carefully, “there’s always a little settling in to do, as you know better than anyone. I think it will work out.”

  “But don’t you think it affects the President’s appearance of capacity for leadership?”

  Heinrich put his arm on Corwin and leaned over to his ear. “This has hurt the President, between you and me. You just can’t have people behaving as if the White House is some sort of day-care center, now, can you?”

  Corwin looked properly flattered that Heinrich had chosen to confide in him. Rosey had not heard what Heinrich was saying, but Sadie had. Even though she thought she had a clear fix on Heinrich, this surprised her. He had told the President fifteen minutes ago that he hadn’t been hurt at all. But it was clear that Corwin wanted to hear that the President was hurt. Corwin had Presidential ambitions. Heinrich didn’t want to hedge any bets.

  Lorraine was looking frantic. Hooker’s office had called to say the Secretary of State would be detained. He was to sit on Sadie’s right, and Des was signaling that it was time to eat. “I’ll need time to redo the seating,” she said. “Can’t we just wait five minutes? We’re still waiting for Hooker and Harry Saks. I can’t understand where they are.”

  “The hell with Saks,” said Des. “I don’t like the bastard anyway.”

  “Well, he is the President’s domestic adviser. It wouldn’t be polite to just sit down now. He’s probably tied up with something at the White House.”

  “Bullshit,” said Des. “He just didn’t want to get here until the President left. He’s still smarting over getting caught in that childish maneuver this week. I’ll be surprised if he shows up at all, frankly. He knows if he does he’ll never get out of here alive. Let’s eat.”

  “I’ll just put Howard Heinrich next to Sadie,” Lorraine was saying, and having solved the Hooker problem, she recovered her composure.

  Des, however, was agitated. “There is a distinct freezola going on between the ‘birthday girls,’ and I’m not at all looking forward to the toasts,” he said.

  “You’ll make it, Des,” said Lorraine. “I refuse to waste a minute worrying about you.” Her eyes darted over his shoulder to the entrance. “Oh, thank God, here come the Sakses! Looking a little sheepish, I might add.” Lorraine went off to greet them.

  Allison came over to Shaw.

  “The host with the most has decided it’s time to eat,” said Des. “I’ll go and start getting people rounded up.”

  “I suppose we’re not going to be able to sit together,” said Allison, slipping her arm around his waist.

  “Talk to your friend Lorraine—she did the seating,” said Des. He was perspiring. Even though the air conditioning was turned as high as it would go, the evening sun pouring in, the heat and humidity, the crowd, and the tension were beginning to get to him.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah, fine. It’s just so bloody hot in here.”

  “What do you mean, Lorraine did the seating?”

  “I mean she put you next to the Vice President and me next to his wife, that’s what I mean.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “Well, it wasn’t my idea. She said it would be tacky to do it any other way.”

  “I can’t believe this. Happy Birthday, Allison.”

  “I wanted this to be a great surprise and a great party. I can see I’ve blown it.”

  “Forget it. It’s not your fault. But don’t think I’m not going to have my eyes on you every minute.”

  Des looked relieved even though she was only half-kidding.

  “I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior.”

  “Well, I’ll just be forced to vamp our fine Vice President tonight.”

  “Lots o’ luck.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that you will be so busy pumping him you’ll forget, that’s what it means. It also means it would be too humiliating. It’s not liberated behavior.”

  “You don’t know your ass from liberation, my love, so let me be the judge of that.”

  As Allison approached Rosey and Sadie, she noticed that Claire and Worth Elgin had moved in tight so that nobody else could get near them.

  “Mr. Vice President,” Worth Elgin was saying, “I really would like it if you would consider doing a piece for our Sunday View section. You could write on anything you wanted to. For starters, how about the scene at the White House this week?” This was his attempt at humor. Rosey responded with a weak smile.

  “I must say, Sadie, you look heavenly,” Claire Elgin was saying. “So fresh and cool and…” She giggled. She didn’t say, “…so sexy.”

  Sadie’s flowered-cotton bodice showed off her ample bosom in a most discreet way, though her uneasy husband had tugged at the top on the way to the restaurant.

  “You’re just so sweet to say so,” Sadie said.

  “Claire darling,” Lorraine said, “I’m terribly sorry, but we’re about to sit down for dinner.” Claire glared at her. Lorraine’s tone had not escaped her.

  “Mr. Vice President, will you take Allison to dinner?”

  “It will be my pleasure,” he said.

  As soon as he had said it he glanced nervously at his wife. She leaned over so that Lorraine could not hear and whispered to him, “Be careful what you say to her.”

  “Oh, Sadie, for goodness’ sake.”

  “I mean it.”

  “Oh, good Lord,” murmured Rosey to himself, “I knew this party was a bad idea.”

  Des was coming over to fetch her.

  “Mrs. Grey,” said Des, “I believe I have the honor.”

  “I don’t know why it sounds cheeky when you call me Mrs. Grey,” she said.

  “But I am cheeky—that’s part of my charm.”

  “Is that what all the girls tell you?”

  “In the old days, before I became monogamous.”

  He had been leading her to their places at the table. There were two long tables running the length of the restaurant. The two guests of honor were seated in the center of the tables with their backs to the walls so that they could see each other directly across the room face to face. As Des and Sadie got to their places, Des glanced up to see Allison making a face at him.

  Des said to Sadie, “You were supposed to be seated next to John T., but his office just called to say he’d be late. I wish to hell I knew what’s keeping him. Must be something up. Lorraine replaced him with Heinrich.”

  “That’s fine,” said Sadie. “I adore watching Howard in action.”

  “Ah, you’ve noticed?”

  “How could anybody be in Washington more than a week and not catch on to Howard?”

  “You’re not just a pretty face, Mrs. Grey.”

  Sadie turned to Howard. “I understand I’m lucky enough to have drawn you. Now, you behave or I’ll call Mr. Shaw, here,
to my aid.”

  “Well, I’m just as pleased as I can be to be seated next to the guest of honor,” he said. “I had no idea Lorraine would give me…” He stopped.

  “Such a plum?” asked Des.

  “Well, Des, I’m not sure I would put it exactly that way….” Howard seemed relieved when Claire Elgin found her seat on his right and turned to him.

  “Now, Howard,” they heard her say, “you haven’t paid any attention to me all night. Have I lost all my looks?”

  “Claire, you’re still the most beautiful lady in town.”

  Des and Sadie looked at each other and smiled.

  “Made in heaven, the two of them,” he said.

  “Isn’t it sad they couldn’t have found each other earlier,” said Sadie.

  “Oh, I don’t know—as a couple they might well have been too overpowering. I think Heinrich does better as a single man. He’s got more moves that way. Have you been invited to one of Claire’s musicales yet?”

  “No. She wants me to come when they get back from the Vineyard in the fall. What are they like?”

  “I wouldn’t think of spoiling it for you. Besides, there are no words. You won’t want to miss one. Watching John T. Hooker snoozing in the back of the room is one of the great sights of Washington. They all show up.”

  “Why?”

  “They all come because Worth is the editor of the Daily’s View section. The last time they had a musicale and John T. went, Worth ran a big piece several weeks later saying what an effective Secretary of State he was. You can buy that kind of publicity if you play the game right. You must have observed that.”

  “Of course. And it’s more fun for me. I feel sorry for people who have to put in long hours and then spend the evening working. Because it’s hard work. Everything you say or do is watched and recorded. And if you’ve had a few drinks it can be dangerous. So Rosey has found out. He has enough of a hard time trying to relax, have a Scotch or two, and still be on his guard. And he has to keep an eye on me. I have this unfortunate tendency to be candid from time to time.”

  “Don’t change.”

  He had said it more seriously than he intended.

  Sadie had been sipping her soup, but she looked up. He was looking at her directly. “Well, thank you. It’s nice of you to say that. I mean I hope I won’t disappoint you.” She was flustered by his sincerity. So was he.