Compromising Positions
Page 25
“That’s true.” He grinned. It was exactly what he wanted to hear.
I wasn’t going to leave things at that, though. I needed to hear that mine would not be the only compromise. “But I’d hope my partner would also make sacrifices along the way.”
“Well, of course,” said Michael. He sounded like he was defending himself from unjust accusation. “Where’s the commitment otherwise?”
I smiled. That was the right answer.
Of course, many of Michael’s questions focused on religion. That issue was one of those no-brainers for me. Not being particularly religious, I had no problem letting someone else take the lead if it was important to him. While driving around Capitol Hill one day, Michael pointed to a school. “That’s a nice looking school.”
It was an old, but well-cared for red brick building. “Yes, it is. Is it public or private?”
“I don’t know. You always went to public school, right?” Michael asked.
“All my life.”
“Would you ever send your kid to private school?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like I’m opposed to private schools. I’d say it depends on the kid and the school.”
He gave me a quick side-eye and then looked back at the road. “Would you send your kids to Catholic school?”
“If it was a good school.”
“Would you mind if they were raised Catholic?”
I stole a glance and turned my head to hide my laughter. He was so transparent. When I’d controlled my smile, I looked at him again. “No, Michael, I wouldn’t mind at all.”
~~~
A month later, Trish and I sat in the Tucson airport awaiting our flight back to D.C. Trish read the newspaper at her usual lightning speed, as I sat to her left catching up on email. Though I was engrossed in the messages, the flash of diamonds on Trish’s hand caught my attention.
I’d been thinking for a while that I needed to bring up the marriage issue. I looked around the lonely airport and thought it was as good of a time as any. I put the phone down and announced, “I’ve been meaning to talk with you about something.”
“What’s that?” Trish asked without looking up from her paper.
“Well, I think Michael is getting ready to propose.”
“Oh, yeah,” she answered casually turning the page before she smiled. “I know about that.”
“You do? How?”
“Larry.”
“What? Michael’s been talking to Larry?”
“Yeah, for a while now. I’m surprised it’s taking him so long, but I guess the mess over your amendment took the wind out of his sails.”
“When did you first learn?”
“Remember when I chewed Michael out for making that dumb remark about pillow talk?”
“Yes…”
“Larry came upstairs that evening and told me.”
“Really? Wow…” I tried to make sense of it all. “Is that why you were so quiet about Michael during the Planned Parenthood fight?”
“Yes,” Trish said with a nod. “Things were so dicey between you two that I didn’t want to interject myself.”
“Thank you for that. I didn’t need more pressure.”
“That’s what I thought. Though I gotta admit I also wasn’t sure what to say. Larry told me how serious Michael was about you, and I knew how happy he made you. Larry was right. He knew the politics around your relationship would sort itself out. My nagging you about it wasn’t going to help anything, and most likely it would have made you feel worse.”
“Larry was right.”
“It’s kind of crazy, but my knucklehead football player is really smart when it comes to people.”
I grinned at my old friend. “That’s why he was smart to pick you.”
“I like to think so,” she said, jutting out her chest with pride.
“Michael does make me happy—really happy.”
“And I like him okay—for a Republican,” she said, holding back a laugh.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Michael
A few days before Christmas, I adjusted the hood of my Gore-Tex jacket as I followed Jessie through a slot canyon. In addition to the gentle rain, the heavy fog had settled, hiding our way. Huge droplets of water sporadically pelted us from overhanging rocks as we made their way down the trail. I called out to her, “How is this the desert?”
“It does rain in the desert, on occasion.”
“It’s pretty wet.” Who wanted to hike in this mess?
Jessie turned around and threw a hand on her hip. Though she smiled, her voice was indignant. “After all the snow I put up with when we were in Chicago at Thanksgiving, I can’t believe that you’re saying anything about the weather.”
“I didn’t make fun of you… that much.”
“Just every time you had the opportunity.”
“I told you it was going to be cold.” I stifled a laugh. “You seemed to forget.”
“I didn’t forget. The wind was chillier than I expected…”
“Well, I guess I thought it would be warm.” I held out my hand and frowned as it got wet. “What about the beautiful desert in the winter?”
“This is how we get those gorgeous wildflowers,” Jessie said, turning back around. “We’re almost there, anyway. It will be dry where we’re going.”
“I don’t believe you.” I muttered under my breath as I followed along. I patted my pocket once again to confirm it still held my precious cargo and to remind me of the day’s objective, regardless of the weather.
“Didn’t my dad say the place we were going is nice?”
“He did.”
“Do you believe him?”
I immediately thought back to another conversation I had with her dad that morning, and I smiled. “I’m not going to question an Army officer.”
Half an hour later, I noticed the canyon began to open. Without the canyon walls, the rain hit us from all sides. I grumbled, “I thought you said it would be dry.”
Jessie didn’t even look back as she answered in a parental tone, “Michael, you need a better attitude.”
“I need a towel is what I need.”
“We just have to go right past this turn, and we’ll be there.”
As we rounded the turn, I saw why Jessie had dragged me into the wilderness in terrible weather—the view was breathtaking. Even with the fog, mountain peaks and sweeping desert valleys made for a breathtaking vista. “Amazing,” I said, taking it all in.
“Isn’t it incredible?” She pointed to a rock outcrop off to the side. “Come over here. We can sit.”
I followed her to a rock formation with a giant slab, jutting out like a natural awning. She sat down and patted the sand covered rock, which true to her word was dry.
Grinning, I took off the backpack of lunch supplies and sat next to her. “How did you know it would be dry?”
“I just guessed.”
“It’s stunning.” I kissed her cheek. “Okay, you win. Your district is prettier than mine.”
“Like there was ever any question of that?”
“Come on. Suburbia has its charms.”
“Yes, but…”
“I know. It’s not this. I’m kidding. You should be proud to be from such a beautiful place.”
“I am.”
As I sidled in closer to her, my hand brushed against the lump in my pocket, reminding me again. A heady rush hit me as I realized the perfect moment had finally arrived. Part of me wanted to laugh because I knew what was going to happen next, and she didn’t. Another part of me wanted to take a deep breath to make sure I didn’t blow the few lines I’d practiced. I paced myself by touching her hair as I said, “When we met at that reception, I had no idea.”
“No idea about what?” She gave me a sly look.
“No idea about you, and what little I did know, I thought I wouldn’t like.”
She gave me a playful jab with her elbow. “Don’t worry about it. I felt the same way about you.”<
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Reaching into my pocket, I felt my heart picking up speed. “Regardless of back then, I hope you feel the same as me now.”
“I love you.” She kissed my cheek. “If that’s what you mean.”
With a deep breath, I took her hand, turned it over, and placed the heirloom diamond ring in her palm. “This is what I mean.”
Jessie’s eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. “Michael…”
Curling her fingers around the fancy stones, I drew up her other hand and then held them together in my own. I gazed into her eyes. “Jessica Suzanne Clark, I love you more than I could ever say, but I’d like the chance to show you every day for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”
Her smile soon came back into place. She glanced down at our joined hands and then nodded. “Yes. I’ll marry you. Nothing would make me happier.”
I leaned in, kissed her hard, and declared, “God, I love you.”
“I love you.” She actually giggled as she whispered the words.
Opening up her hand, I took the ring and placed it on her finger. “What do you think? It’s my family’s ring. No one else has worn it since my grandmother. My mom had wanted something more modern, so she never wore it. I’ll get you whatever you like.”
Jessie looked dazed as she stared at the ring on her finger. “It’s extraordinary.”
I waited patiently for her to say something else, and after a while, she looked up and wrapped her arms around me. “I’ll be proud to wear it because I know how lucky I am to have you.”
My heart felt like firecrackers were exploding, and I pulled her in tight. Before a kiss, I whispered, “I’m the lucky one.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Jessie
We kept our engagement private until January, when the two of us were back in D.C. Both of our offices issued the same three sentence press release announcing our engagement. Michael declined all interviews, not wanting to have to talk about his divorce, but I granted them all. It seemed like a hundred, especially with all the local radio and television stations and newspapers.
Most of the reporters asked the same questions, which I answered to their approval.
“Where did you get engaged?”
“In the district. Michael wanted to wait until he could meet my father in person and ask me in a beautiful place.”
“How will you continue to represent your separate districts while married to someone in another state?”
“We both have jobs we love. That’s not going to stop. The needs of the Sixth Congressional District will always be paramount on my mind.”
“When is the wedding?”
“We’ll have a private wedding at the end of the year. We both have a lot of work to do this year, and of course, there’s an election in the fall.”
“What’s the biggest challenge in your relationship? Your divergent politics? Living in different parts of the country?”
“Like any couple, we have challenges, both expected and unexpected. We’ve already learned those are manageable issues. Our biggest dilemma right now is introducing his dog to my cat, in case anyone has any ideas.”
By the end of the day, I was weary from talking about myself, and when my phone rang yet again, I dreaded answering it until I glanced at the caller ID. The name flashed “Chuck Benjamin,” and I smiled. That was a reporter’s call I would always take. “Hi, Chuck. How are you?”
“Hello, Congresswoman. I believe congratulations are in order.”
“Thank you. Thank you very much. I like to think you had a small hand in helping us along the way.”
“I didn’t do much. You two have weathered all of this on your own and have done it very well.”
“Well, thanks, and I know Michael would appreciate hearing that.”
“So, I called to ask for a little background for an article I’m doing on Planned Parenthood. This fight looks like it’s going on for a while.”
“Sadly, it will.”
“I’m writing a big piece that will run on Sunday. Can you help me out?”
After I had given him some details of the inner workings of the continuing debate in Congress, Chuck caught me off guard. “Congresswoman, I have to tell you that I’ll need to at least mention your relationship and now engagement to Congressman Grath in the story.”
I was silent for a few seconds, thinking of the publicity Michael’s changed vote had caused. It quickly blew over, but he was going to have to relive it again and again. “I suppose that’s to be expected,” I said, with a sigh.
“It will only be a sentence or two. It wouldn’t be very good reporting if I didn’t address the matter.”
“I understand.”
“And I understand you two are public figures who would like to protect your privacy, but can you let readers in a bit on your relationship? It would be nice if I could humanize it.”
“What do you want to know?” I asked, getting suspicious.
“Just a little vignette.”
“Like a story? I don’t know…”
“Okay, not that. What about a term of endearment? What do you call each other?”
I thought back to Michael’s dumb pillow talk comment. I was going to get him back. “When we’re alone?” I said, in a leading voice.
“Well, you don’t have to go that far.” He chuckled.
“It’s not a problem.” Without skipping a beat, I quipped, “When we’re alone, I call him my esteemed colleague, of course.”
~~~
On Sunday morning, I stood in Michael’s bathroom, which was as big as my old bedroom, brushing my teeth while Severus sat on the vanity watching me. I’d moved in with Michael a month before, but Severus was only now joining us. Daisy was excited to have a fellow furry creature in the house with her, but Severus wanted as little interaction with Daisy as possible. Thus, Severus stayed atop vanities and counters and furniture when he wasn’t prowling his new neighborhood.
All morning I’d waited for my little bomb to explode. Michael and I usually lounged around during the morning trading off sections of newspapers and watching the Sunday political shows. I’d already prepped him that Chuck had written a piece on Planned Parenthood and quoted me. I just didn’t tell him what I’d said.
As I leaned into the sink, rinsing my mouth, I felt a swat on my rear. “Hey!” I called out. Wiping my mouth, I turned to see Michael with The Washington Post in his hand, ready to take another swipe at my butt. I giggled. “What are you doing?”
“That was only number one.” He grinned and craned his arm around me. Swatting me again, he said, “You deserve at least ten.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I feigned, trying to cover my rear. I was only wearing my bra and underwear, so I didn’t have much protection.
His blue eyes danced. “Oh, yes, you do. So you tell The Washington Post, of all places, that you call me ‘my esteemed colleague’ when we’re alone?”
“It was a joke.” I smiled. “Fair is fair.”
“So this is payback?” He hit my butt again.
“Pretty good, don’t you think?”
“No. I think I’m going to have to put up with a lot of ribbing, and I think you get another right now,” he said. The paper snagged my panties with the next swat.
“Hey, you’re going to ruin my underwear.” I giggled.
His smile twisted into a sexy one. “Then we should take them off.”
“So you can spank me with The Washington Post?” I snorted.
He leaned in for a kiss. “I think it is fitting. Don’t you?”
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I owe so much to many wonderful women who’ve helped me with this story over its various incarnations. Most recently, Rosette Alcantara Doyle, Margo Griffith Houston, Michelle Kannan, and Flavia Viotti Siqueira all have been great substantive editors for me. Your insights are truly a writer’s inspiration to do better.
In addition, my writer friends, Ruth Clampett, Liv Morris, Daisy Prescott, and S.L.
Scott, are a bottomless well of support, advice, and laughter.
Finally, I’d like to thank my wonderful husband and daughters. I promise you I love you more than the screen I stare at all day.
MARY WHITNEY
Even before she graduated from law school, Mary knew she wasn’t cut out to be a real lawyer. Drawn to politics, she’s spent her career as an organizer, lobbyist, and nonprofit executive. Nothing piques her interest more than a good political scandal or romance, and when she stumbled upon writing, she put the two together. A born Midwesterner, naturalized Texan, and transient resident of Washington, DC, Mary now lives in Northern California with her two daughters and real lawyer husband.
To learn more about this author and her writing,
please visit www.WordyMary.com
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE