“Jameson!”
“When was the last time you threw a baseball?”
“I don’t know.”
Jameson cleared her throat.
“What?”
“You might want to find a catcher for practice.”
“You don’t think I can get the ball across the plate, do you?”
Jameson said nothing.
Candace sat up. “You don’t. I don’t believe it. I got elected President of the United States, and you don’t think I’m capable of pitching a baseball across home plate!”
“I’m just saying that you might want to practice.”
Candace huffed. “I thought you trusted my judgment.”
“I do. It’s your pitching arm I’m worried about.”
Candace frowned.
Jameson held up her hands in surrender.
Surrendering already? Candace climbed on top of Jameson. “We’ll just see how many bases you can cover.”
Jameson’s eyes flashed with excitement, and she flipped Candace beneath her. “Starting at first?” She kissed Candace. “I think I might just slide into home,” she whispered.
Candace giggled and pulled Jameson down for another kiss. I love baseball.
CHAPTER THREE
December 6th
“JD?”
Jameson lifted her head to the sound of Dana’s voice. “Hey.”
“Sorry, if I’m interrupting.”
“Nothing more than looking for furniture for Cooper.”
“Still dealing with the move?”
“You know, I don’t know why, but my whole life I just assumed people moved into the White House and it was all furnished for them.”
Dana laughed. “You could’ve moved the furniture you have.”
“We are. Some of it. Everything we’re bringing from New York will arrive here next week.”
“Where are you going to put it?”
Jameson laughed. She’d yet to figure that all out yet. The cost of moving into the White House fell to the first family. Marianne was still living in the house in Schoharie. There was no way that Candace would want to take much from their home there. The few things they had purchased for the Governor’s Mansion in New York had either been moved into the farmhouse or they had been donated to charity. The townhouse seemed the logical place to move from. Jameson had always loved Candace’s townhouse in Virginia. They would be taking a substantial number of items from their current residence—not the children’s furniture. Candace and Jameson intended to offer the townhouse to Jonah and Laura. They’d yet to broach the idea.
“I have no idea where it’s going to go,” Jameson confessed. “I guess that depends on Jonah and Laura.”
“Why?”
“Candace and I are going to offer them this place.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I was looking to open an office down here before I left the firm. Mel and Jonah have been considering that option for a while. All these babies have slowed things down.”
“That, and their mother running for the presidency.”
“And, that.”
“If there’s anything I can do…”
“Don’t you have enough on your plate?”
“Probably.” Dana laughed.
“How is my wife these days?”
“Haven’t seen her much, huh?”
“Not really. Late nights, early mornings.”
“I’d get used to that.”
“I am. I’m just glad she’s been sleeping.”
Candace had been rolling into bed in the wee hours for over a week. If she wasn’t in a briefing, she was on a call with a potential cabinet member. If it wasn’t dealing with the cabinet, she was in a meeting about the inauguration. And, if it wasn’t that, she was making calls to congressional allies. She’d made a point to pull herself away every day for a couple of hours to spend with Cooper, usually over dinner. Jameson had no idea how Candace kept up with everything. In a few weeks, there would be no move to coordinate, and no inauguration demanding Candace’s attention. The cabinet appointments would be solidified. That was the silver lining Jameson could see. When Candace did roll into bed, exhaustion claimed her immediately. Jameson was grateful for that. It meant that Candace felt confident in the decisions she was making on a daily basis.
“Missing her, huh?” Dana guessed.
“I miss her when she’s gone for a few hours, Dana.”
“You’ve still got it bad, JD.”
Jameson winked. Yep. “You didn’t come find me to discuss Coop’s bedroom or my infatuation with my wife. What’s up?”
“As interesting as both those things are, no, I didn’t.”
“I’m listening,” Jameson said.
“Candy wants you to pick the song for the Inaugural Balls.”
“The song?”
“Yeah, the one you dance to with her.”
Jameson stared at Dana blankly.
“Hello? Earth to JD.”
“Why didn’t she ask me?”
Dana offered Jameson a compassionate smile. “She said you’d ask that.”
“And?”
“She said she tried to this morning.”
“She did?”
“Yeah.”
“Really?”
“You told her you were awake.”
“Uh oh.” Jameson could be a heavy sleeper. She also talked in her sleep. “What did I say?”
“Ummm…”
“Dana?”
“I believe the word jiggy was in the title.”
Jameson cringed. “Not really appropriate, huh?”
“Hey, you two are breaking every tradition I know. I say, let’s get jiggy with it.”
Jameson laughed.
“Anyway, she wanted to ask you. Brandon and Donna were riding her about it earlier. Details, you know? Apparently, that’s an important one to them.”
“It’s over a month away,” Jameson said.
“Yeah, well, there’s the holidays in between. Ten Inaugural Balls, JD. There’s a schedule and there’s only so much time. We need to know so we can coordinate with…”
“I get it. When do they need to know?”
“By the 20th, if you can.”
“Sure. Hey, Dana?”
“Yeah?”
“Does she have to know?”
“What?”
“Candace, does she have to know what I choose?”
“You want to keep the song a secret from the president?”
Jameson wiggled her eyebrows. “Can we?”
“Are you trying to get me fired?”
“Oh, come on!”
“Tell me this first.”
“Okay…”
“You’re not going to choose to get jiggy for real, are you?”
“Not at the balls.”
Dana rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Jameson grinned.
“I said, I’ll see what I can do.”
“You’ll figure it out.” Jameson turned back to her computer screen.
“Yeah. And, JD?”
Jameson looked up.
“No sexual healing either.”
Jameson shrugged. “Sounds like you need to spend some more time with Steve.”
Dana threw a pillow from a chair at her friend.
“Violence won’t solve anything. Haven’t you listened to any of your boss’ speeches?”
“You’re a pain in my ass,” Dana said.
“Love you too,” Jameson called after her.
“I mean it, JD! No bump and grind either!” Dana exchanged a grin with Candace in the hallway.
Jameson sniggered as she returned to her task. “Oh, there’ll be plenty of grinding.”
“Planning a new project?”
Jameson looked up and froze.
“Now, I know I don’t want to know. Tell me anyway,” Candace said.
“How come you didn’t tell me you wanted me to pick the song for us to dance to?”
; “I tried.”
“Yeah, I heard. You could’ve tried again.”
“Are you upset?”
“No.”
“Jameson?”
“No, I just wish you would’ve asked me yourself.”
“If you want to know the truth, I think Dana wanted a chance to tease you.”
“Shocking,” Jameson replied.
“She and Steve miss you, Jameson.”
“I see Dana all the time.”
“I know you do. Maybe you should make some time to spend with Steve.”
Jameson sat back in her chair. Steve Russo was her best friend from college and Dana’s husband. They remained close friends, but they had spent less and less time together over the last few years. It wasn’t intentional. It was life. They saw each other at functions and family parties. Jameson had to admit she couldn’t easily recall the last time she’d called Steve just to catch up. If it hadn’t been for Steve and Dana, she’d likely never have known Candace.
“Is everything okay with Dana and Steve?”
“I think so,” Candace said. She flopped into a chair. “Another move. It takes its toll. You know that as well as anyone.”
Jameson decided against delving into the topic. Moving was stressful; moving with a child added to that tension. Steve and Dana had two kids to consider, and to make feel secure. “Not that I’m not happy to see you…”
“But what am I doing out of my cell?” Candace asked. She received a slight shrug from Jameson. “President Wallace invited us to lunch on Monday.”
“Okay.”
Candace smiled. Jameson could roll with the punches better than anyone she knew.
“On one condition,” Jameson said.
Candace waited.
“I get to keep the song a secret.”
Candace was stunned. “You’re not serious?”
“I’m completely serious.”
“You want me to walk out on stage without knowing what we’re dancing to?”
“Worried?”
“A little,” Candace confessed.
“I thought you liked to bump and grind.”
“Jameson!” Candace laughed. “Why don’t you want me to know?”
Jameson sighed. There were moments when Jameson felt helpless. They were only moments. Candace cast a long shadow. She dealt with things that Jameson could scarcely comprehend, much less hope to control. A song choice might seem insignificant to most people. Jameson saw the opportunity as a way to give something to Candace on a day that would be one of the most significant in all their lives. It was something she could contribute. “Maybe I would like to be able to do something for you that day.”
“Jameson, you do more for me than anyone in this world every day. Surprise me,” she said.
Jameson smiled. “Thanks.”
“I only have one request.”
“What’s that?”
“Choose something I can maneuver in heels.”
Jameson laughed. Candace could walk a tightrope in heels if she had to. Jameson, on the other hand, searched for any and all alternatives to heels. “I’ll keep your request in mind.”
“You do that.” Candace forced herself to leave the comfort of the chair.
“Back at it?” Jameson guessed.
“For a little while.”
“Mm-hum.”
“I’ll see you at dinner.” I can’t imagine what she’s going to choose.
***
MONDAY
Jameson couldn’t keep her eyes from sweeping over the majesty of the White House. She’d visited numerous times with Candace. Today felt different. This would be her home in a little over a month. Not for the first time, she found herself amazed by her life—amazed by the woman who shared her life. How many presidents had there been? Forty-four? Forty-four in more than two centuries. Jameson shook her head to clear the thought.
“Are you okay?” Candace asked softly.
Jameson’s only reply was a wink and smile. I can’t believe it. Today it all felt real. She’d watched advisers come and go over the last month. She had shaken hands with nearly every leader in the Democratic party over the last two years. Candace was about to become their leader. “Crazy,” she muttered.
Candace looked at Jameson and snickered. “Just hitting you?”
Jameson smiled again. “Something like that. You?”
Candace took a breath as the car rolled to a stop. Had it hit her yet? She wasn’t certain how to answer that question. Her days had already changed markedly. She was privy to information that only a handful of people on the planet were granted access to review. She was engaged in building a branch of the most powerful government in the world. Candace wondered if the reality would ever fully be realized for her. She felt the gravity of it all. For Candace, focusing on what needed to be done, who needed to be courted and who needed to be kept in line dictated her current thoughts. The job of a president entailed more than making speeches or signing pieces of legislation. Shortly, she would become Commander in Chief; the leader of a military comprised of men and women volunteering to serve their country. She would be responsible for people willingly sacrificing the freedoms they sought to defend for others, and potentially paying an unthinkable price for that service. She thought about that every morning when she woke. People would trust her to act with conscience and clarity.
The President of the United States also served as the country’s chief diplomat. Every word that Candace spoke in the world stage would have the power to inspire, alienate, or attract the people of other nations and that nation’s leaders. That required at the very least a cursory understanding of each country’s government, geography, and geology. All of that impacted economy and culture. If Candace hoped to cultivate a healthy relationship with allies and draw adversaries closer, she would need to be deliberate and thoughtful with rhetoric. Words held power. Candace would also serve as Chief Legislator, Chief Executive, Chief of the Democratic Party, and perhaps most important of all, she would become Chief Citizen. It was her responsibility to represent and lead an entire nation, not merely those who gathered in her corner. Regardless of how anyone cast their vote, if they cast a vote at all, where they lived in the country, how they worshiped, looked, where they worked, their age or their gender, Candace was charged with acting in their best interest and representing their needs in the discharge of her duties. It was a daunting task. It was a task she welcomed.
“I don’t know,” she told Jameson. “I just know that it can never appear that I’m not in command—even now.”
Jameson watched as the door opened and Candace stepped out. President Wallace and his wife, Marion, were standing outside waiting to greet them. She heard the clicks of cameras in the distance and smiled at the official White House photographer as she accepted Candace’s hand and stepped out of the car. Here we go.
“Candy.” President Wallace hugged Candace. “Ready for this place?”
“Let’s hope so,” she replied lightly.
“JD,” the president greeted Jameson. He hugged her next. “I can’t wait to see what this place looks like when you’re done,” he whispered.
“I think Cooper and Spencer might have a bigger effect,” Jameson quipped.
The president laughed. “Probably so. Let’s go in and escape the cameras for a few minutes.”
Jameson was grateful. She’d learned to take the press in stride as much as anyone could. She preferred the quiet of home to the clicking of cameras and the shouting of questions. She stepped beside the First Lady.
“How are you holding up, JD?” Marion asked.
“I’ve considered crutches a few times,” Jameson replied cheekily.
Marion laughed. “You don’t need to tell me. What do you say to a beer?”
“I’m not driving.”
Marion laughed harder. She was fond of Jameson. She’d known Candace for years. Senator Don Wallace and Senator Candace Fletcher had campaigned together for President John Merrow. They had both taken t
he lead in persuading President Lawrence Strickland to forego a presidential campaign. He had succeeded Merrow to the office after President Merrow’s assassination. Both Don Wallace and Candace regarded Strickland as eager, imprudent, and at times, irrational. His exit from office had paved the way for eight years of a Wallace administration. It hardly surprised Marion that President Don Wallace would be followed by President Candace Reid. Both were built for leadership. Marion had witnessed evidence of her husband’s and Candace’s strength and dexterity countless times over the years. Being a president’s spouse carried its own set of complications and contradictions. The public craved someone it perceived as genuine, the job demanded its occupant maintain composure. She’d struggled at points during her husband’s time holding the nation’s highest office. She had the unique vantage point to see the cracks in his control. She’d watched him shed tears in private and pound his fist on his desk. She’d felt the empty space beside her in the middle of the night more times than she cared to count. She’d boarded planes and trains, waved from cars, and shaken hands with factory workers and prime ministers across the globe. The role of First Lady was one of Supporter in Chief. It could be exhausting one minute and exhilarating the next. It was not a role for the faint of heart.
Marion stopped to bid her husband and Candace a temporary farewell. “I’m going to steal your wife while you two talk about whatever it is you two talk about,” she told Candace.
Candace chuckled. “If I know you, you’ll be drinking beer with my wife while we…”
“Drink scotch?” Marion quipped.
“I think I might know where there’s a bottle,” the president offered. “We’ll see you two in an hour.” He leaned in and kissed Marion on the cheek.
Candace squeezed Jameson’s hand. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she whispered playfully.
Jameson’s eyes gleamed. There are so many things I want to say right now. She placed a sweet kiss on Candace’s cheek. “See you at lunch.”
Marion shook her head when the president and his incoming successor walked away. “If only the world knew how much trouble those two could cause together.” She giggled. “So, what about that beer I promised?”
“I’m game.”
“I thought we could relax in the rec room we have on the third floor before we have to engage in all the formalities.” She led Jameson through the house. “I’m sure you have plenty of ideas about what you’d like to use that space for.”
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