A Political Affair

by Mary Whitney

  “Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” Anne smiled as she switched her coffee to her left hand and offered her right for a handshake.

  “Nice to meet you.” Trey pumped her hand a few seconds longer than necessary, trying to place the girl. He’d never met her before, but her name sounded familiar, and it was somehow connected with McEvoy.

  “We should hit the road,” Greg said, nodding at the door.

  “Yeah, it’s late,” said Anne, as she readjusted her bag.

  “Late for you and early for me.” Trey chuckled and stared at them. They didn’t seem like a couple—more like coworkers or friends. He wondered if Anne worked for McEvoy. Looking out the window, Trey commented, “Nice ride. Who says government work doesn’t pay?”

  Greg shrugged. “I promise, it doesn’t.” His face soured after he spoke.

  Greg’s response amused Trey, so he needled him again. “Must be nice to have a boss who lends you his car, especially a car like that.”

  Shaking his head, Greg ignored the dig. “Hope you have a Merry Christmas.”

  “You, too.” Trey chuckled and looked at Anne, hoping to learn more about her. “And Merry Christmas to you. Maybe I’ll see you again during the election.”

  “Maybe,” she said. Her lips pursed, and she gave him the briefest of smiles. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Trey said, and returned to his seat.

  While Trey began reading again, Anne and Greg left the shop. As the door closed behind them, Anne quietly asked, “Are you worried about him seeing us together? With one of their cars?”

  Greg raised his hands up and shrugged like he was estimating their odds. “I don’t know. Is it helpful? No. Do we have a reasonable explanation for everything? Yes. But I’ll tell Stephen and Patty anyway. Don’t worry about it.”

  “Okay . . .” she replied. Despite his rational explanation, she wasn’t convinced, and it wasn’t just her female intuition. If she were Trey, she’d be suspicious, too.

  A week later, high in the Rocky Mountains, Anne snuggled into her nook at Stephen’s side. After hours alone together, it was almost a primal intimacy. His scent had become a mixture of hers and his, and she felt safe from the outside world. Light snow drifted past the windows of the tiny cabin, and if the air hadn’t been so dry, the single room would’ve felt like the tropics. As they lay with the covers kicked to the bottom of the bed, she chuckled. “So this is a stove you know how to light.”

  “Very funny,” he smirked and kissed her hair. “I’ve spent my whole life coming to this place. My dad and I would use it as a base camp.”

  “Well, it’s a nice place to have in the backcountry. I guess I shouldn’t ask how long your family has owned this inholding.”

  “I can tell you it was long before national forests.” He ran his fingers down her bare thigh.

  “Speaking of your family. We’re alone. Aren’t we violating the rule that your family be around . . . somewhere?”

  “They’re around.” He chuckled. “Somewhere.”

  She didn’t laugh because she was worried. Instead, she asked hesitantly, “You don’t care?”

  “No, I do.” His brow furrowed. “A lot . . . but it’s because I care about you so much.”

  “What do you mean?” Confused, she wrapped the sheet tighter around her as she sat up to look him in the eye.

  He shook his head in dismay. “This isn’t coming out right.”

  “What is it?”

  He sighed and smiled. “I love you,” he said as he brushed her hair off her face. “I don’t want to hurt you, or for you to get hurt by others.”

  “I don’t want that for you either.” She smiled at his sweetness. “I love you, too.”

  He waited a moment, and with his hand on her cheek, he said, “I’d like to meet your family.”

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. I want to meet your parents and your brother.”

  “Why?” She was dismayed and couldn’t help her immediate reaction. “Are you insane?”

  “It sounds crazy, but listen,” he said as he took her hand. “I want your family to know about us. I want them to understand. That way if things come out, they won’t be blindsided. They’ll know we’re serious, and not . . . well, not whatever the media makes us out to be.”

  She took her hand away from his and pressed her temples as she debated all the ramifications. “Okay,” she said, dragging out the last syllable. “You’re right.”

  Her hands froze as she considered what it would actually be like to tell her family, and words flew out in a state of panic. “You’re right, but oh my God, I can’t do that!”

  “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll be there, too. It’ll be fine.”

  Silent for a moment, she breathed deeply and placed a hand on her heart as she became resolute. “No. I’ll tell them first, by myself. These have been my choices . . . my actions. I owe it to them. You can come over afterward.”

  “That’s fine. I understand.”

  “What do you want to say to them?” she asked warily.

  “Well, I suppose I’ll start by telling them I’m in love with you.”

  Anne imagined her family’s reactions to those words: her brother’s usual sneer when he found something corny, her mother’s raised eyebrows when she heard good gossip, and her father’s crushing glare when he became angry. She cringed at the thought. “Maybe you shouldn’t lead with that.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course, it’s not going to be the first thing I say.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “But I want to tell them something in particular,” he said more seriously.

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, I should tell you first.” He took her hand in his again and gazed into her eyes. “I love you, and that’s not going to change.”

  “That’s nice to hear,” she said softly.

  He chuckled nervously. “Don’t you understand? I don’t ever want to be with anyone else.”

  “You’ve said that before.”

  “It’s not just that.” He grimaced in frustration. “I never want to be without you.”

  His roundabout explanation finally made sense; she knew exactly what he meant. He felt the same sense of forever that she did. Her heart swelled, and she threw her arms around him. “And I don’t want to be without you. I love you.”

  He kissed her briefly before becoming solemn again. “I don’t expect an answer or even a response to what I’m about to say. I’m not going to push you.”

  “Push me? What do you mean?”

  He took a deep breath and declared, “I want to marry you, Anne. I want to be your husband and you to be my wife. I want everything that entails—a life together forever.”

  Her mouth dropped open as if to speak, but his words had taken every one of hers away. Marriage was the farthest thing from her mind.

  Though she was quiet, he gently put two fingers to her lips to silence her. “Please,” he said and lowered his hand. “I can guess what you’re thinking, and it’s all very rational. We’ve only known each other a few months, and we’ve been together for even less. And you’re too young. Our futures are too uncertain—well, at least mine is. Yours is on track. Regardless, neither of us knows what city the other will be living in next December. I understand all the uncertainties, and I don’t want to pressure you. So I’m not asking you to marry me.”

  His last words threw her for another loop, and her brow knitted together in confusion. A devilish grin appeared on his face. “At least, I’m not asking today. One day, I will. I promise.”

  She smiled and shook her head in a combined feeling of joy and relief. “I love you, but why are you telling me this now?”

  He kissed her hand. “I wanted you to know how I feel about you—how important you are to me—because I want to tell your family. It’s trite, but I want to let your father know my intentions.”

  “Are you sure?” she joked.


  Stephen laughed and pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m so ready to marry you. If I thought you were ready, I’d ask you right now to elope with me tonight.”

  It was all too much. Prior to that moment, she wouldn’t have believed anyone who told her that at the age of twenty-two she’d be talking with a man about marriage—let alone talking elopement with Stephen McEvoy. Her mouth gaped again, though this time she uttered a playful gasp. “You’re crazy.”

  He smirked and raised an eyebrow. “May I remind you that’s what everyone’s going to say about both of us?”

  “We deserve it.” She giggled.

  “Yes, we do,” he said as he pulled her into his arms.

  Chapter 18

  The next day, Anne stared at the bedroom alarm clock. Two forty—the time of reckoning. She needed to talk to her family before Stephen arrived at three. She looked around her room; with each passing year since she’d left for college, it seemed less like hers.

  Though she’d redecorated over time, removing any reminders of high school and adding new things from college, her attachment to the place had waned. It was no longer her home because it wasn’t where she really lived. That thought made the task ahead of her seem a little easier.

  She went downstairs and to the den, where her father and brother were entranced by the University of Colorado football game on the large television. Beside her dad, her mother sat in a matching leather recliner and searched for a new trifle recipe on her laptop.

  None of them acknowledged her presence; it was simply expected she’d sit down and laze away the day with them. She took a seat on the other end of the sofa from Mark and waited a moment before taking a deep breath. In a controlled voice, she asked, “Can you turn off the TV? I need to tell you something.”

  Her brother gave her an annoyed sideways glance. “No way, it’s the fourth quarter, and the game is tied.”

  “You need to turn it off. This is important.”

  He grumbled, and her mother chided him. “Mark, mute the game.”

  Elton turned to his daughter, seeming more curious than concerned. “What’s so important?”

  Her parents stared, their faces full of questions, and Anne realized she was about to tell them the truth for the first time since she’d started seeing Stephen. With a frown, she admitted her failings as a daughter. “I need to apologize. I’m really sorry, but I’ve been keeping something from you for a while now. I felt I had to do it because I didn’t know what I was going to do. I’m so sorry to have lied to you.”

  At once, Mark’s attention turned away from the game and toward her. He gasped in alarm. “Oh my God, you’re pregnant.”

  Anne rolled her eyes. While it was a reasonable guess on his part, she was annoyed he’d thought it. “No, of course not.”

  Her mother placed her hand on her heart and exhaled. “Thank God.”

  “Well, then, what is it?” Elton’s eyes narrowed.

  “I need to tell you about someone I’m seeing.”

  “I knew you were dating that Keith,” her mother said with a smile.

  Anne looked down, ashamed by her mother’s warmth. It was time to lay her cards on the table. While she’d been dishonest with her family, everything else about her relationship with Stephen felt right—like it was supposed to have happened just as it had. She raised her head, and an unconscious smile spread across her face as she spoke. “It’s not Keith. It’s someone else, and despite all the problems around us being together, I’ve never been happier.”

  “So who the hell is he?” her brother asked.

  “It’s Stephen McEvoy.” She said his name with confidence and happiness, and a huge feeling of relief came over her.

  The reactions around the room differed. Mary Beth’s mouth gaped, Elton’s brow slowly morphed into deep furrows, and Mark’s lip curled.

  He leaned forward and asked, “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Not kidding.” She shook her head, still smiling. “It’s been about two months.”

  Mary Beth stole a brief glance at her husband. Anne knew the action well. It was the parental check-in they always did to confirm they were on the same page about any news or delicate topic. After twenty-seven years of marriage, they could confer simply with their eyes.

  Mary Beth announced their joint opinion in the form of a question; she was incredulous and whispered their disappointment. “Oh, Anne, what have you done?”

  Elton’s concerned expression turned into one of suspicion, and Mark chimed in with his own words. “What in the hell? You’re an intern in his office! Are you crazy?”

  “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve thought the same things, and I understand your concerns.” Anne sat up straighter, showing her resolve. “Believe me; it took a long time before we got together. And I swear my relationship with Stephen isn’t like that. We’re serious.”

  “Oh, I’ll bet he’s serious about you . . . about as serious as he is with any intern.”

  “It’s not like that,” she repeated. She stared, hoping her brother would understand. They’d always taken up each other’s causes with their parents.

  Yet this time she couldn’t convince him. He shook his head. “I wish you’d talked to me.”

  Her mother’s expression soon changed from shock to anger. She pointed at Anne and snapped, “We did not raise you to be this kind of person and to be with a man like him. He’s your boss, and he has a horrible reputation. It’s beyond me how you could do this—”

  “Mom, that’s not true. You raised me to be independent, to make careful decisions. I’ve done that—Stephen is different than you think.” She evaluated the stunned, angry faces around her and decided to show them just how different he was. “He’s coming over at three to meet you.”

  “He’s coming here?” Mary Beth exclaimed. Her eyes flew to the antique clock on the mantle, which kept only semiaccurate time. “In eleven minutes?”

  “More like eight,” Elton muttered, pointing to the time on the cable box. Anne looked at him and waited for some sort of reaction to the news, but he remained quiet.

  “Great. He’s coming to visit.” Mark huffed. “What the fuck? I can’t believe you’ve done this to yourself; I can’t believe you’ve done it to this family.”

  Her mother closed her eyes as if trying to find some calm in the storm. When she opened them, she gazed at her daughter and gave her a short, motherly lecture. “Anne, this is not going to end well, especially for you.”

  “Mom, I know the risks. I went into this with my eyes open. It’s not like I got swept off my feet or taken advantage of.”

  After she spoke, Elton finally reacted with a slow shake of his head, his mouth set in a hard line. “I’ve been listening, and it’s hard to believe any of what you just said.”

  “What do you mean?” she demanded. A disappointed look from her father usually made her question herself. For the first time in her life, it didn’t. She was sure of what she felt for Stephen, and given those feelings, she was confident she’d acted appropriately.

  When Elton didn’t answer immediately, Mark jumped in. “He means you’re being foolish. You’re twenty-two, still in college, and you’re having an affair with a United States Senator—one you work for and who, not to mention, is a Democrat.” He practically spat out the last word.

  “Since when do you care about politics?” She was annoyed her lifelong comrade had let her down. “And I’m not having an affair. Neither of us is married.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow. “A minor point.”

  “No. A major point. It’s not sleazy.” She pursed her lips and gave one of her best defenses. “His entire family knows we’re together, including his mother. She’s very supportive.”

  “Lillian McEvoy knows about you?” her mother asked in alarmed surprise.

  Anne realized her mother might be a lost cause for a while, so she turned to her dad, who’d assumed his skeptical expression again. “Dad, please listen. You think I’ve been dumb and I was taken
advantage of, but it’s not true. Doesn’t the fact that his mother supports us—and he’s coming to meet you—say something about our relationship . . . about him?”

  “Frankly, it could say a lot of things, both positive and negative,” her father replied in a stern voice.

  The chime of the doorbell rang through the house. Anne looked at her watch. Thank God, he’s early. He must have guessed this wasn’t going to go well. She announced with a forced smile. “That’s him.”

  “So soon?” Mark glowered before turning his attention to the football game. She looked at her parents. Her mother muttered to herself as she put away her laptop, while her father moved his recliner upright and took a drink of his cold coffee. Neither of them spoke, so she left the room.

  When she opened the door, Stephen stood on the edge of the porch and kicked snow off his boots. In jeans and a ski jacket, he looked decidedly un-senatorial. Seeing him as she loved him most, she smiled. “Hey. Come on in.”

  “Hi,” he said as he looked up from his boots. He entered the house and gave her a quick kiss. “How’s it going?”

  “Okay.” A twitch of her mouth revealed the truth.

  “That well?” He grinned and whispered, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

  When they entered the living room, Elton stood at once. Anne knew the action was ingrained in him from his military days—he always saluted the rank, even if he didn’t respect the man. Her mother and brother also rose, and Elton was the first to speak. He extended his hand to Stephen without a smile or formal greeting. “Senator McEvoy.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Norwood.” Stephen shook his hand. “Please, call me Stephen.”

  Elton only nodded in response and turned to his wife. “This is my wife, Mary Beth.”

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Norwood.” Stephen smiled, eagerly shaking her hand.

  His charm appeared to work. She smiled as her eyes darted between Anne and him. “Thank you for stopping by.”

  Stephen reached out for Mark’s hand. “You must be Mark. Anne talks about you a lot.”