“Listen to me. I don’t need that, Jameson.” Candace took a deep breath. “But if this is weighing on you, maybe we should discuss other options.”
Jameson’s eyes flew open wide.
“Maybe we should,” Candace said. “We have not been truthful with each other. Not about this. It’s been the elephant in the room for months. I didn’t want to push you to talk about this—not this. And that made me reluctant to talk to you about—”
“Anything?” Jameson guessed.
“Not anything. I didn’t want to add to your stress.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t want you to worry about me.”
“No more,” Candace said.
“No more,” Jameson agreed. “Do you really want to talk about other options?”
“I want you to know that I am open to what you need and want, Jameson.”
“I don’t think I want to pursue anything,” Jameson said honestly. “But I can’t lie to you. It makes me feel better to know that I can.”
Candace smiled.
“It’s been hard,” Jameson said softly. “Watching Shell and Laura, and I know Marianne…”
“I know.” Candace cupped Jameson’s cheek. “I know it hurts. It reminds you of what you thought we might share.”
Jameson shook her head. “It makes me feel guilty. There are times… I just don’t…”
“Want to watch?”
Jameson nodded.
“I understand. I do. After Lucas died, I can remember seeing a baby or an expectant mother and locking myself in a public bathroom so I could cry.”
“Candace—”
“I understand, Jameson. It will get better.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank me?”
“For understanding.”
“I think that goes both ways.” Candace watched as Jameson grew contemplative. “What are you thinking?”
“That I would love one day with you and Coop. Just you and Coop. Just one day.”
Candace knew it would be next to impossible to promise a full day without any interruptions. She could commit to a day without a schedule, and without the noise of the rest of their family. “When we get to New York, we’ll make that happen.”
“In New York?” Jameson chuckled. “No offense, but you might be the lunatic this time. Candace, with Marianne and Shell, and my parents nearby—”
“Do you trust me?”
“Completely.”
“Then trust me. When we get home, we’ll have that day.”
“In eight years?” Jameson teased.
Candace laughed. “In a couple of weeks. I promise.”
Candace cleared her throat to get Cooper’s attention.
“Mommy?”
“That’s me. What are you up to in here?” She crossed the room and looked over his shoulder. “What is this?”
“It’s a house,” Cooper explained.
“Whose house is it?” Candace asked.
“Ours.”
“Are we getting a new house?”
“Just another one,” Cooper said.
Candace held back a chuckle. “Another one?”
“Yep.”
“Where is this house?”
“Next to Shell.”
“Oh,” Candace said.
Cooper looked up at his mother. “’Cause we live near Jonah now, and we live with Marianne in New York.”
“I see. Shell isn’t too far from Marianne,” Candace reminded him.
“Yeah, but if we live next to her, I can go there all the time.”
“Ah. That makes sense.”
“Yeah. And you miss Shell.”
Candace smiled. “I do miss Shell.”
“Yeah.” He looked back at his drawing. “It needs more rooms.”
“How many rooms does it need?”
“Um…” Cooper counted silently. He held up his fingers. Five?”
“Five bedrooms?”
“Yeah.”
“Who are all the bedrooms for?” Candace inquired.
“Me. You and Momma. Grandma.” He scratched his head. “Then we need a place for Grandma and Grandpa, and Jonah if he comes.”
Candace nodded. “You’ve thought this all through.”
“Yep.” He looked back at his drawing and smiled.
“Cooper?” Candace called for his attention. He looked back at her. “You know that we have to leave early tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah.” He looked down.
“We will call you every day, sweetheart.”
“But I can’t go.”
“Not this time. I don’t think you’d have much fun where we are going,” she told him.
“Do you have to go?”
Candace was sure her heart would break. She kissed Cooper on the head and squatted in front of his chair. “I do. But I will be back. Grandma will be here with you, and you know what?”
Cooper shook his head.
“I have a few surprises for you too.”
“You do?”
Candace nodded.
“What is it?” Cooper asked.
“I can tell you about one of them. It won’t be a surprise if I tell you, though. Are you sure you want to know?”
Cooper nodded excitedly.
“Are you sure?” Candace teased him. She laughed when he nodded again. Better answer before he gets whiplash. “Well, what would you say if I told you that Grandma was taking you back to the house in New York when you get home from school on Friday?”
Cooper’s eyes grew wide.
“And, you will get to stay there for two weeks.”
“I have school,” he said.
Candace smiled. “Well, one week is school vacation. And, you will have work that you have to do for your teacher.”
“I get to stay in my room?”
“You get to stay in your room.”
Cooper hugged Candace hard.
“I guess you approve,” Candace joked.
“What about you?”
“Momma and I will meet you there.”
“You will?”
“We will, and we’ll stay there—all of us for a whole week—together.”
Cooper grinned. “Mommy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Why can’t I go with you?”
“Oh, Cooper.” Candace led Cooper to his bed. She sat down and directed him to sit beside her. “One day, when you are a little bit older, I promise that you and I will take a trip together.”
“Just you and me?”
“Just you and me?”
“But Momma will be lonely.”
Candace patted his knee. “Oh, I think Momma will understand.” She watched as Cooper’s face wrinkled with concentration. “Cooper?”
“Okay,” he said.
Candace forced herself not to laugh.
“But can we take Momma to see Genie first?”
That did it. Candace lost all hope of concealing her amusement. She laughed and pulled Cooper into her arms. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Cooper held onto his mother. “I wish you could stay.”
“Me too,” Candace said. I do. “I love you, Cooper. What do you say we crawl under the covers and snuggle?”
“In my bed?”
Candace raised her brow. “Would you rather we go find Momma?”
Cooper grasped his bottom lip with his teeth and nodded.
“Then that’s what we’ll do. Let’s find Momma and we’ll have a slumber party.”
“Can we have popcorn?”
Candace knew Jameson would call her a pushover for agreeing. It was already after Cooper’s bedtime. Takes one to know one. “I think we can manage that,” Candace said. She got back to her feet. “Popcorn and a movie until we fall asleep. How does that sound?”
“Awesome!” Cooper pumped his fist in the air, jumped off the bed, and started to run away.
“Where are you off to?” Candace called after him.
“To
find Momma!”
“I guess that leaves me with popcorn duty, “ Candace mumbled. For a moment, she thought they were home. Maybe we are.
***
THE NEXT DAY
Jameson sipped her coffee and watched the clouds roll by outside the window.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Dana said as she took a seat beside her friend. “You know there are more comfortable accommodations on this plane.”
“I like it here,” Jameson replied.
“Are you all right, JD?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I don’t know. Not that we’ve seen each other much lately. You just—you seem a little distant—from me.”
Jameson shifted in her seat. “I think it’s probably seemed that way to a lot of people.”
“Not easy, is it? Living with The President of the United States.”
“No, it’s not.” Jameson smiled.
“What?”
“I think that was our problem,” Jameson replied. “Me and Candace, I mean. We forgot that we were still Candace and Jameson.”
“Yeah. I think I understand that.”
“Same issue?” Jameson guessed.
“You know, I’ve worked for Candace for over twenty-years in some capacity. I thought this would be the same.”
Jameson laughed. “Want my advice?”
“Yes.”
“Act like it is—the same.”
“It’s not.”
“No, but I think the best way to help her is to act like it is the same. Even if she responds differently sometimes,” Jameson said. “She needs that, Dana. That’s why she kept you so close. She trusts you to be honest with her and to remind her that she is Candace, not just the president.”
“I think I get it. Speaking of my boss. Where is she?”
“In her office with Don.”
“I wonder what that’s about?”
“We probably don’t want to know,” Jameson offered with a chuckle.
“So,” Dana began cautiously. “How was your trip to West Virginia?”
“Are you asking me because you are curious about how things went or because you’re worried about my decision to work with New Roads?”
“Both.”
“I was pleased with the meeting,” Jameson said.
“What does Laura think?”
“Laura has a hard time being objective.”
“Maybe with good reason,” Dana said.
“Maybe.”
“You don’t think so.”
“I didn’t say that. Look, programs like New Roads are few and far between, and they are grossly underfunded. They’re not going to turn money away.”
“Even if its blood money?”
Jameson sighed.
“Jameson, Lawson Klein and his cronies are one of the largest investors in every movement you oppose.”
“I’m aware.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange that a project they’ve helped put on the map sought your help?”
“No.”
“Really?”
“They didn’t seek my help.”
“That’s not how I heard it.”
“We received thousands of information packets from NGOs. Thousands of letters from directors and founders, board members—”
“Who sent you New Roads?”
“I don’t actually know.”
Dana groaned.
“You don’t have to see a nefarious agenda in everything,” Jameson said.
“Yeah, I do.”
“That’s cheery.”
“That’s reality, JD. You’re determined to pursue this.”
“I am.”
“It’s a risk—politically. And not just because of FVI’s involvement.”
“I know that.” Jameson looked back out the window.
Dana considered what to say next. “JD—”
“Don’t,” Jameson warned her friend. “I have my reasons.”
“You sound like your wife.”
Jameson laughed. “I learned from the best.” She turned back to Dana. “It’s one project, Dana. Maybe there will be fallout at some point. Maybe there is some hidden agenda. I don’t think that’s the case. And, even if someone is hoping to exploit this in some way—not that I can imagine what that would be—if I can help this project and its programs gain ground,” Jameson stopped and took a deep breath. “If my voice, my time can help these programs grow, maybe be duplicated elsewhere, it will be worth the fallout.”
“Helping ex-convicts?”
“Helping people, Dana.”
“I didn’t think it was possible.”
“What’s that?”
“Finding someone more idealistic than Shell.”
Jameson laughed. “I’m not idealistic. I’m realistic.”
“If you say so. Just keep your eyes open.”
Jameson turned away again. She was tired of defending her decision to everyone—everyone except Candace. It did give her the tiniest hint of what Candace dealt with all day, every day. Constant questioning. Constant warnings. Constant opinions. Jameson made her choice. She was prepared to deal with the inevitable consequences. She hoped there would be more positive outcomes than stressful issues that arose from her work with New Roads. Candace had counseled her to follow her gut and have no regrets. No one possessed hindsight. No one could predict the future. A million things could happen to change outcomes. Jameson understood.
“Be prepared for anything,” Candace said. “Believe it will be for the best and take responsibility if it goes awry. That’s the tricky part,” she told Jameson. “You have to share credit and shoulder responsibility. As long as you understand that going in to something, you’ll survive whatever it brings.”
“JD, I’m not telling you what to do.”
“Yes, you are,” Jameson disagreed. “In your way, you are. That’s your job, Dana—to look out for Candace’s best interest.”
“And yours.”
Jameson nodded. “Trust me.”
“It’s not you that I don’t trust.”
“I don’t mean that it will all come up roses and daffodils. Trust me that whether it becomes a garden or a pile of dog shit, I can handle it.”
Dana laughed. Jameson had learned how to maneuver political life from the most adept person Dana had ever met. She could easily imagine Candace saying something similar. Perhaps, a bit more polished, but the sentiment would be the same. She patted Jameson’s knee. “I have no doubt, JD. None at all.”
***
Candace massaged her tired eyes. Eleven in the morning and she already had a headache. She looked at Don Milton and shook her head. She’d expected to spend the morning reviewing regional foreign policy issues in preparation for the next few days. Instead, she found herself immersed in news of an active shooter at a high school in Henderson, Nevada. It was the last thing she wanted to hear. She shook her head with frustration. “Get as much information as you can,” she told her Chief of Staff. She pushed out her chair.
“Where are you going?”
“This is going to take a while—all of it. I need coffee. And, I would like to give Jameson the chance to join us.”
“Candace—”
“This isn’t top secret, Don. Not any of it. There is nothing we have to discuss in the next hour or two that I won’t tell her tonight. Nothing.”
He nodded. “I don’t know how much more I can find out at this stage.”
“Well, be that as it may, find out whatever you can. Let Governor Merrick’s office know that I will be calling. Call Mayor Duggan and tell her to expect my call in fifteen minutes, if she is available. If not, I will accept her call when she has a moment.”
“When she has a moment?”
“Right. She’s in the middle of a crisis, Don. We bend to her needs. Do you want coffee?” Candace asked.
“Maybe an IV,” he joked.
Candace chuckled. “I’ll see what they have available in the first aid kit.”
***
Jameson pulled her gaze from the window. Candace sported a solemn smile, the kind that told anyone that knew her something was amiss.
“Hi,” Candace said.
“Do I want to know?” Dana asked.
“No,” Candace answered. She looked at Jameson. “I’m on a mission to find an endless supply of coffee. I hoped you would join us in my office. Both of you.”
Jameson’s brow furrowed with concern. “Issues with our itinerary?”
“I wish. No. News out of Nevada. Active shooter at a high school. That’s all I know at the moment. Don just got the call. He’s digging now.”
Dana nodded her understanding. “I’ll see what he’s learned and get a statement out.”
“Thank you,” Candace said. She stepped aside to let Dana pass.
“Will it ever end?” Jameson asked.
“I hope so,” Candace replied.
“Are you sure you want me in there?”
“Positive. Listen, there’s nothing I can do—not now. It’ll be the same drill. I offer my support. I reiterate my position and my plan. I call people to action. I wish I believed that this time people would listen. Some might. Many won’t.”
“Are you okay?” Jameson asked.
“No. I’m not. Every time this happens I think about Cooper.”
“I know. Me too.”
“I think about all of our grandchildren, and I wonder how we got here. I remember when the thing my kids worried about the most was a test or having to take showers before gym class,” Candace mused. “Now? Now, we have kids afraid for their lives—hiding in closets.” She sighed. “It makes me angry.”
“Not what you needed today.”
“Not what anyone needs any day.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m going to call Pearl,” Candace said.
Jameson smiled. “I’ll take care of the coffee.”
***
“Stop worrying,” Claire told Alex.
“I’m not worried, Claire.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Think you know me that well now, huh?”
“You keep pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re worried.”
Alex chuckled. “Been talking to Cass?”
“I talk to Cassidy every day. I don’t need her to tell me about your quirks.”
“I don’t have quirks.”
“Oh, you’re the quirkiest woman I know.”
Alex laughed. “If you say so.”
“What are you worried about—exactly?” Claire asked.
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