Tommy fled the scene, eager to finish his ice cream before Dad’s “fifteen more minutes” extension expired.
“When the cat’s away?” she asked.
How would she know the cat’s away? he wondered. “Cat?”
“I assume your wife is out of town,” Kari replied. “Little boys don’t usually have a chocolate ice cream-mustache this late at night.”
A single, nervous chuckle confirmed her suspicion. “Oh, right. My wife went to dinner with a friend.” Kevin didn’t mention Angie’s plans to stay at the hotel. “In fact, we were just talking.” It felt right mentioning the call. “I should call back. Will this take long?”
Before he could finish the question Kevin noticed Kari removing her coat. She appeared to have come from some sort of party, her short skirt and heels more suitable for after-hours flirting than congressional business. He took the jacket, walking it to the living room, where he placed it on the recliner. He turned back and was surprised to see she had followed closely behind. Kevin took a step backward.
She said nothing and handed Kevin a folder marked CONFIDENTIAL.
He broke the seal, curious to discover what was urgent enough to interrupt an aide’s weekend plans and so important it couldn’t be sent digitally.
Good evening Kevin,
I apologize for interrupting your weekend, but I just learned that someone violated the confidentiality agreement of our coalition meetings. Word is out that you are spearheading a key subcommittee labeled Bright Spots.
Key subcommittee? Apparently someone was taking his ideas seriously enough to dislike them. He continued reading to the bottom of the page.
As you know, any premature leak of pending proposals will undermine our strategy. Timing is everything on this thing. We simply can’t let any details out of the bag before the revised budget numbers go public. Please speak to every member of your sub before Monday to get assurances none will speak to the press or anyone else outside the team.
Josh Franklin
Who would talk? Kevin wondered, consulting a mental checklist of the people on his subcommittee. None fit. But whoever it was knew enough to leak the bright spots label.
He instinctively moved toward his desk to alert Troy to the development. Before he could take a step, however, he felt Kari’s hand gently restrain his forearm. She took the page from his hand and turned it over to reveal a brief postscript.
I have assigned Kari to you for tonight.
She is very good.
Kevin looked up from the page. The woman stood a few inches closer, a single finger lingering on his arm.
The phone sounded a familiar ringtone.
Seconds later Kevin heard his son’s voice. “Hi, Mommy!”
Tommy walked into the living room toward Kevin, who was grateful for the interruption. As his son approached, Kevin heard the faint echo of Angie’s interrogation. “Why are you still out of bed? What’s your daddy doing?”
Tommy replied before Kevin could grab the phone. “Daddy’s talking to a pretty lady.”
Three minutes later Kevin was explaining the situation to his wife on the other end of the line, describing Franklin’s note after apologizing for Tommy’s broken curfew. He mentioned nothing about Kari’s appearance or advance, content to say one of the senator’s staff had dropped off the urgent document on the way home from the office.
“She just left,” he said dismissively before quickly changing the subject. “So, how’s the reunion going?”
There was silence on the line, followed by the sound of futilely suppressed crying.
“Babe? What’s wrong?” He recognized the sound distressingly similar to that of the flood unleashed during their appointment with the pediatrician. “Did something happen?”
The sound of a tissue muffling sniffles. “Not really.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
A brief pause. “Am I wasting my life?”
“What?” he said much more loudly than intended. “You can’t be serious. You have the most non-wasteful life of any person I know!”
The last bit of Angie’s sniffle submitted to a rising laughter of relief. For reasons Kevin did not understand, she needed his assurances every bit as much as he needed hers.
“Is this about Julia?” he asked.
“She seems so together. So successful and connected. Did you know she has nine million readers?”
“And you have a husband and three kids. I call that pretty successful!”
The doorbell rang. Kevin noticed Kari’s jacket still draped across the living room chair.
“Don’t hang up, Angie. I’ll be right back.” He wanted his wife on the line. Take no chances.
Placing the phone down on the end table, Kevin turned the handle to make a quick handoff. But Kari stood three feet away from the door. As soon as she saw Kevin, she spun around in an unspoken invitation for him to place the coat over her shivering shoulders.
He did.
“Thank you, Mr. Congressman,” she said, turning back with a wink. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else tonight?”
Kevin closed the door without a word, grabbed the phone, and peered out the front window to confirm Kari’s departure.
“I’m back,” he said, clutching the phone-shaped life preserver. “Where were we?”
“You were talking about my non-wasteful life.”
“Right,” he said with a sigh of relief.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Julia flipped through a never-ending menu of options, hoping to find something that might distract her from feelings she was trying unsuccessfully to ignore. Despite her having the entire history of film and television production available at the tap of a remote, nothing held her attention. She muted the sound and kept the screen on for company. A jaded-looking professor appeared to be presenting a drowsy lecture. He was speaking to an unseen universe of college students enduring a Who Cares 101 course from the comfort of their living rooms or digital tablets. The icon on the bottom of the screen told Julia she had landed on IQTV, the network of choice for trade school and junior college students on the bottom rung of the tuition budget ladder.
She feared she might be experiencing a mild panic attack. The trembling in her hands and pounding in her heart began the moment she stepped off the elevator. Maybe she had too successfully contained her anger, forcing her body to express its rage by other means. Or maybe she was just tired from a long day of travel. Regardless, Julia wanted to get her mind off two mutually exclusive thoughts the past few hours had spawned.
Angie embodied everything Julia scorned.
Angie had everything Julia wanted.
Stupid insecurities! she rebuked herself while tapping a digit on her phone.
“Hi, Sis.” Maria’s voice was missing its usual chirp, but still offered Julia a lifeline.
“Just checking in.” A lie. She needed someone to talk to. “You OK? You don’t sound yourself.”
“I’m fine,” Maria said. “Just another fight with Jared.”
“Anything to do with you dating Fin?”
“No. Well, not exactly.”
Julia waited, knowing more would come.
“I told him I don’t think I’ll be seeing Mr. Finelson socially again.”
Seeing him socially? Julia admired the description of their one-night romp.
“Too young?”
“No!” Offense taken. “Well, sort of.”
Maria seemed more evasive than her usual tell-all self. “Spill it, Maria. It’s me you’re talking to,” Julia prodded.
“Sorry. I guess I’m still trying to figure it out myself.”
Julia waited again.
“We had fun. You know. But I think I’m ready for a change.”
“Ready for a change? One date and you want to move on?”
“I don’t mean a change from Fin, per se. More like a change to someone more…” Maria paused to find the right words.
“Mature?”
“No!
” Offense taken again. “Well, maybe. Someone Jared might, like, admire. Or at least accept.”
Julia was speechless. In the two decades she’d served as her kid sister’s love-life confidante she had never sensed anything remotely resembling remorse.
“He’s pretty upset?” Julia guessed.
“Livid,” Maria confirmed. “He called me some pretty awful names.”
“Hmm.”
“Actually, they are the names his friends call me,” Maria explained. “Jared said he had been taking the jokes in stride until today. One of the boys sent a message labeled MR. FIN’S FAVORITE PARENT CONFERENCE. It included a doctored picture. My face on a nude woman’s body. Fin’s face on a flounder fish. You can probably guess their posture.”
“I’m sorry,” Julia offered while recalling a similar incident after Maria’s prom. They never had figured out who sent the image. She would never forget the humiliation on her sister’s face.
“Anyway, he was pretty upset. I apologized. Note to self, ‘Don’t date Jared’s teachers.’ ”
“Probably a good idea,” Julia said, knowing Jared wished for more than a teacher moratorium.
“Hey, I thought you were going out with Angie Tolbert tonight. Why the call?”
“Just back from dinner. Got a second?”
“Of course. The only thing on my agenda is fishing popcorn and M&M’s out of the sofa.”
“What?”
“Jared threw the bowl across the room,” Maria explained. “He lost interest in the movie we were watching.”
A momentary pause.
“How well do you remember Kevin Tolbert?” Julia asked.
“We never dated, if that’s what you’re wondering. He was cute. But he was a senior when I was a freshman. A different universe. Besides, he and Angie were already an item. Did you see him?”
“Just for a minute. I met Angie at their house before we went to dinner tonight.”
“How is Angie-Pangie?”
“She always hated when you called her that.”
“That’s why I did it. Why have a big sister if you can’t irritate her best friend?”
“She seems fine. Three kids.” She anticipated Maria’s gasp in reaction to the size of Angie’s brood, forgetting that Maria was the official household librarian of such details.
“How’s little Leah?”
Julia thought for a moment. She must have seen the baby, but failed to recall anything of note. “How should she be?”
“Please tell me you at least pretended to fawn.”
She hadn’t.
“You’re hopeless!”
“We were in a hurry.”
Maria’s silence sent an invisible scowl. “Why did you ask about Kevin?” she said to end Julia’s banishment.
“I don’t know. I’m trying to connect the dots between what he and Angie have become and what they were.”
“Become?”
“You know,” Julia hesitated. “Breeders.”
Saying the word felt wrong. Julia prided herself on open-minded acceptance of any and every lifestyle choice. So why did Angie’s choices upset her enough to warrant a belittling label?
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Maria said. “Angie’s family was pretty uptight growing up. Remember the time she invited us to church?”
Julia recalled many.
“It always felt, I don’t know, weird. Like she was in a bizarre cult or something.”
“I went with her a few times,” Julia said. “But I don’t remember Kevin going to church. In fact, I remember thinking he might help balance Angie a bit. Her parents were pretty upset when she started dating Kevin in her junior year. They wanted her to date a nice religious boy, not a good-looking jock.”
“Maybe she balanced him instead.”
Julia ran through a mental checklist. Three kids. Radical religious views. Mom giving up her career. Anti–Youth Initiative. Probably even opposed to in vitro selection.
“I wouldn’t use the word balanced,” she replied. “I hate to sound judgmental. But they do fit the stereotype.”
Julia had become one of the most popular columnists in America by articulating a philosophy that was the polar opposite of what breeders valued. No wonder Angie seemed insecure and defensive. No wonder Julia felt irate rather than relaxed after dinner with her friend.
“It was awkward,” Julia confessed. “We spent the whole evening trying to avoid conversational land mines. I think we both lost a few limbs in the process.”
“Some friendships work best from a distance,” Maria suggested.
“I guess so.”
I just need to grin through the weekend and get an interview with Kevin, Julia thought. Then we can go back to comfortable estrangement.
“Will you and Jared be OK?”
“We’ll be fine.”
Julia started to say goodbye, but Maria interrupted.
“You’ll never guess who called today.”
“Who?” she asked without interest.
Maria took a second longer to answer than she should. “Jonathan Sowell.”
Julia felt a slight flutter. Maybe playing hard to get can work after all. “And?”
Momentary reticence.
“Come on, Maria. What did he say?”
“He asked if I’d like to go out tomorrow night.”
A long silence.
“Sorry, Sis.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The sound would have been imperceptible to anyone else. But to Matthew Adams it had become unbearable, drowning out the quiet hum of an aging refrigerator and the faint rush of water moving through household pipes toward a summoning rinse cycle.
Crunch. Smack.
Crunch. Smack.
He tried to ignore the distraction, concentrating on the spreadsheet displayed on the tablet before him. The numbers, remarkably similar to those he reviewed on the last Saturday of every month, presented more than enough to occupy his weary mind:
CAMPUS GRINDS INCOME: $6325
MONTHLY EXPENSES TO DATE: $5945
OUTSTANDING BILLS: $1273
Another occasion to rob the Peter of his mother’s dwindling savings to pay the Paul of his mother’s ailing body.
Crunch. Smack.
Crunch. Smack.
Matthew glared at his mom. He said nothing, instead taking his glass of orange juice in one hand and the digital pad in the other to move toward the other end of the table, out of range.
He returned to his analysis. Which bills would get paid this week? Which could wait until after payday? He remembered his reduced hours. The next check would fall short. He cursed aloud.
Crunch. Smack.
Crunch. Smack.
“Mom!” Enough was enough. “Would you please stop that?”
She returned his glare with a confused expression.
“Does the whole neighborhood have to hear you chew?” He slid her half-empty cereal bowl toward the middle of the table. “I need quiet if I’m going to figure out this mess!”
“I’m sorry, Son.” She formed a tear, a child shaken by sudden discipline for an obscure offense.
Matthew slid the bowl back to his mother while placing a hand on her arm. “Never mind.”
She resumed her breakfast.
Crunch. Smack.
“I’ll be in my room,” he said on his way out of the kitchen.
Matthew disliked his shortening fuse. He and his mother had had a very close relationship, especially when he was young. But the woman who had once provided the wind beneath his wings now felt like an exasperating anchor.
He halted, suddenly turning back toward the table. “Did you remember your pre-breakfast pills?”
Her eyes darted back and forth as they searched an inner file cabinet. Matthew knew immediately that she could not recall, sentencing him to a scavenger hunt across her bathroom counter, where he would find and then count the remaining pills. It was their usual routine to prevent missing or doubling her daily dose.
&
nbsp; Thirty minutes later Matthew situated his now-dressed mother in her favorite reading chair in a cramped living room containing one too many pieces of furniture for comfortable navigation. Handing her a digital book device, he tapped the start button. An actor’s voice commenced reading as she attempted to follow the text scrolling on the screen.
“You good?” he asked.
“Fine.” She patted his hand gratefully. “You go ahead.”
He retreated to the sanctuary of a bedroom with walls displaying relics of a life he had intended to live.
A framed acceptance letter from the university he still hoped to attend.
A poster of the virtual game he still planned to beat.
A high school graduation cap converted into a picture frame holding his favorite snapshot, Matthew seated beside Maria Davidson in her cheerleader outfit. He had clipped the image from their high school annual. A yearbook photographer had snapped it during one of the three opportunities Matthew had taken to sit with Maria at lunch. Discovering the image had been the highlight of his senior year, a reminder of what might have been had she accepted his invitation to the prom.
Plopping himself on the bed, Matthew grabbed the remote sitting on his nightstand to wake a giant screen that filled the opposite wall. His portable tablet instantly became a steering wheel from which he could navigate a range of media options. The conversation with Dr. Vincent fresh on his mind, he searched and found two related documentaries.
AUGUSTINE: SINNER TO SAINT—An exploration of the life of St. Augustine, a fifth-century bishop who had an enormous influence on the theology of the Christian West.
GOOD VS. EVIL—During the third century AD Manichaeism emerged as a religion melding ideas from ancient paganism and the rapidly growing Christian cult. A Gnostic faith, Manichaeism taught that God is pure spirit who did not create the evil of a material world that it attributed to the lord of darkness, Satan.
Spirit good. Body bad, Matthew recalled, choosing the second program. The screen refused his command, instead displaying text that reminded him of his financial inferiority.
SELECTED PROGRAM NOT AVAILABLE TO PUBLIC DOMAIN SUBSCRIBERS. UPGRADE NOW!
Fatherless: A Novel Page 13
