The Reluctant First Lady
Page 15
Michael was now the president of the United States. Their lives had changed, and they’d all needed to adjust to their new reality. Although the personal price was high for being so closely related to the president, they wouldn’t have changed a thing. Each would make the personal sacrifices and adjustments necessary for Michael’s sake.
When Michael and Ashley returned to the residence, it seemed eerily quiet, at least compared to the day before when it was filled with so many loved ones and good cheer. Ashley planned to return to New York the following day, and she knew she and Michael needed to talk before she left. She was hesitant to speak about what was on her mind, an unusual feeling for her. She didn’t want the time they had left together to be marred by any unpleasantness.
“Well, now that all the celebrations are over, it’s time to get down to the business of running the country.” Michael broke the silence in the room.
“Ashley, it’s been wonderful having you here this past month. It’s going to be hard to adjust to not seeing you every day and not sleeping with you every night—and I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty. I’ve loved having you here, but I understand it was only temporary.”
She couldn’t have had a more perfect lead-in to the conversation she wanted to have. “Do you? Do you really understand what’s happening between us, Michael? How could anyone really understand what we’ve chosen to do, including us? I’m scared, and I’ve never been scared about our relationship before now. This past month has been wonderful; it’s reminded me of all of the reasons we married and have always stayed together. But the fact remains, the stakes are so much greater than we ever imagined, and so are the temptations when we’re apart.”
“Are you referring to Paula again?” Michael asked, while running his hand through his thick hair.
“No, it’s not just Paula. She’s just a symbol of the separate lives we’re leading and all of the extraneous people we’re surrounded by on a daily basis. It’s hard to stay close when so much is pulling us apart. I know this is how we’ve fashioned our lives, but I keep wondering what the true price is going to be for all the decisions we’ve made along the way.”
“Are you considering leaving your job at the museum and coming to live in Washington with me?” Michael held his breath waiting for her response.
Ashley shook her head. “I still detest politics; I think it’s mostly unethical and self-serving. But I’m afraid the price for the decisions we’ve made throughout the years will be our relationship. Are you willing to sacrifice that?”
“You already know the answer to that. Besides, as bad as the next four years will be in regards to our finding time to spend together, at least we’re on the same coast.” Michael reached for Ashley’s hand.
Ashley looked down at their joined hands. “I’m worried that won’t be enough. Look, I don’t have any new insights into solving our problem, but we’ve had a taste of being together again on a daily basis, and we’re going to miss it. There’s just got to be a middle ground. I can promise you I’ll be giving my full attention to finding a possible solution.”
Michael was deep in thought about what Ashley had said. He agreed the price for the two of them following their dreams might be too high, and like his wife, he didn’t have a clue how to bring any resolution to their dilemma, yet.
26
As soon as Ashley closed the door to her apartment, she dropped into her favorite overstuffed chair. Next to their home in California, she loved this place best. The apartment had three bedrooms and was very spacious by New York standards.
She’d redone the apartment so almost every wall was covered in bookshelves filled with books, family treasures, photographs, and some of her own creations. In this place, her favorite things from the various fragments of her life mingled and blended together.
She ached to just sit where she was and relax, but she wouldn’t allow herself the pleasure until she was unpacked. She grudgingly got up and crossed the room to the phone. The message light was blinking; she’d deal with that later. If it was anything important, she would have a received a call on her cell. Whatever messages there were could wait. Instead she picked up the receiver and called downstairs.
“Hi, Albert, it’s Ashley. I should have picked up my mail when I passed through the lobby, but my hands were full. Is there a lot?”
“Quite a bit, Mrs. Taylor. I’ll have it sent up. Or would you prefer to have one of your Secret Service agents come down and get it?”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d have it sent up. I’m sure Matt and Dave will be interested in going through it before I have a chance to see it. I’ll let them know you’re sending it up. Thanks for keeping an eye on things while I was gone.”
“Just doing my job. If you need anything, let me know.”
Ashley stuck her head outside the door to let her agents know that the mail was being sent up. They nodded. She’d made a slight dent in their rigid demeanor. She was sure it was the chocolate chip cookies she pushed on them one afternoon. It seemed strange to her that these two young men were so inflexible. She was used to teasing and bantering with her kids, and she’d allowed some of that teasing to carry over to these two. She could tell that Dave wanted to unbend a little, but Matt was very conscientious and was all business, all the time.
Ashley started unpacking and putting her things away, then stopped and sat on the bed. For just a moment she sat there and looked around. There was very little here that belonged to Michael. There were a couple of changes of clothes but no real personal belongings. Likewise, the rest of her apartment was devoid of Michael’s books or even the little pile he always made where he laid his keys and wallet. This was further evidence of the separate lives they lived.
It would be the same thing for him in the White House; very few of Ashley’s things could be found there. The only place where their belongings shared a roof like normal married couples was at their home in California, and for the past several years, they’d spent only a few weeks there together. What a very sad and tangible sign of their own personal state of the union.
Ashley had no intention of wallowing in self-pity. For the time being, this was her life; this was her reality. She finished unpacking and went to retrieve her mail from Matt and Dave. “Could I interest either of you in a cup of coffee or tea?”
“No, thanks, but we appreciate the offer. Here’s your mail. Everything seems to be in order,” Matt said.
“No bombs, no hate mail, nothing to interest you at all? How very disappointing for you. It would’ve been much more fun if there was something suspect, don’t you think? Now don’t go getting all uptight on me. I can see from the expression on your faces, my sarcasm irritates you. Believe me, it’s nothing personal; it’s a habit from being around my kids so recently. I appreciate your concern for my safety; I really do. See you guys in the morning. I’ll be leaving for work a little earlier tomorrow since I’ve been away for so long. Goodnight.”
Matt and Dave both said goodnight. “You know, I don’t think she means to taunt us. I’ve heard her with her kids, and they’re always joking around. I think she’s sincere when she says it’s nothing personal.” Dave waited for Matt’s response.
“I know. I really like her, but her safety is our job. We’re here to protect her. It’s not my dream job or, I suspect, yours, but what really concerns me is that she might use that charm or sense of humor to put us off our guard and then give us the slip.” Matt rolled his head to release the tension in his neck and shoulders.
“Do you really think she’d do something like that?” Dave asked.
“What do you think? So far, she’s rejected becoming the official First Lady, and she’s rejected living in Washington, DC, with the president. She acts as if her life hasn’t changed, and she continues to charge into the thick of things without any thought to potential threats to herself. I’m pretty sure she’s capable of just about anything. That’s why I think we need to keep our guard up regardless of how charming she is
or how many chocolate chip cookies she gives us.”
While Matt and Dave discussed the First Lady, Ashley was going through her mail. Upon seeing an envelope from Sienna, she walked over and sat down in her favorite chair. Using a gold-plated letter opener she received from Juliette for Christmas, Ashley slit open the envelope.
The single sheet of paper within was definitely not from Sienna. It was a message written using piecemeal letters cut from printed material. The note said, “g I v E U p Y o r E j o B ! B E c U M t H E 1st L a D y O R d I e !”
Ashley was shocked to receive another threat. Emotions surged through her, but anger was at the top of the list. She looked again at the envelope and realized the handwriting was not Sienna’s.
“This is outrageous,” Ashley said out loud to no one; however, the dialogue continued in her head. Now the crazies are using my relatives to get to me.
Ashley debated throwing the threatening note away as she had the others she’d received. However, this time Sienna and her family’s safety could be at stake.
She crossed her living room quickly and opened the door. Matt and Dave stood up immediately.
“This letter,” Ashley raised the paper for them to see, “is another death threat.” She rushed on. “Whoever it is knows I have a cousin, knows her address, and used her address to get the letter to me. What can be done to protect Sienna and her family?”
Matt reached in his pocket for a pair of latex gloves. After putting them on, he asked, “May I see the letter?”
Ashley handed him the note. “I’m sorry. Naturally, I’ve handled the letter . . .”
“We can isolate your fingerprints from any others, but for now we need to get this to our investigative unit to see what clues we can garner from it.”
Dave already had a clear plastic bag in his hands. He held it open so Matt could place the evidence inside.
“Look,” Ashley explained. “I don’t think this is a serious threat to me. What does concern me, however, is that whoever’s sending these letters knows that Sienna is my cousin and used her identity to get to me. I think her family needs some sort of protection.”
Dave responded immediately. “We take every threat seriously. You never know what a person’s intentions are who would write a letter like this. We will follow procedure to the letter. This is not something you should treat lightly.”
Ashley knew that was true, and she especially wanted to get to the bottom of it since Sienna’s name had been used. “I think I’ll turn in. Would you please let me know the results of your investigation?”
“Of course, we’ll keep you informed,” Dave answered. “Maybe now you won’t treat your security so lightly.”
“You’re right, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t see danger around every corner or behind every potted plant. I’ll see you both in the morning, and thanks for your help with this.”
Ashley closed the door before either Matt or Dave could respond. She didn’t need any further lectures on security. She might as well go to bed and curl up with a good book. Tomorrow would be her first day back to work since before Christmas, and she was quite sure she was going to need all the energy she could muster.
She had just settled in for the night with her trusty novel when her cell’s musical message interrupted the serenity of her bedroom. Ashley hated late-night calls. Late-night calls equaled bad news, an attitude that was a holdover from her children’s teenage years when they were out at night and before they had safely returned home. So, with dread, she reached for her phone. Caller ID identified the caller as Michael. Really? Did he already know about the threatening note?
“Hi, honey. Missing me already?”
“Why didn’t you call and tell me about the note?” Michael demanded.
Ashley looked at the clock. “Boy, that was fast. It’s been less than an hour since I turned it over to the Secret Service. I was going to call you tomorrow.”
She could hear Michael slowly exhale, most likely counting his breath, a relaxation habit he had picked up from a book Jeremy had given him, Clark Strand’s The Wooden Bowl. “A quick call tonight would have sufficed. Ashley, I want to know immediately about anything that concerns you. I worry constantly about your safety; you know I do. And while I know the secret service is superior at keeping us all safe, I would feel better if we lived under the same roof. Just imagine for a moment you heard about a threat to either Jeremy or Juliette’s safety secondhand. How would you feel?”
“Okay, I get your point, but it’s most likely nothing, and the Secret Service are very good at their job; you just said so. I know how busy you are; I saw that every day while I was there. You don’t need to worry about me just because I’m not in your sight.”
“I repeat, think about how you would feel if it were Jeremy or Juliette.”
He had her there. She would have been frantic, despite the fact that there was nothing she could do, and she would absolutely need to hear their voices to help calm her down.
She conceded his point. “You’re right. I should have called. I’m sorry. You realize, though, whether I was there with you or you were here, there isn’t any more that you could do than you’re doing right now. Lighten up and see the humor in the situation. Granted there isn’t much, but someone out there really believes the little woman should be taking care of her man, and they don’t think I’m doing that. Pul-lease. Cue the Tammy Wynette music.”
“Ashley, there’s no place for jokes about a threat to the First Lady. Besides, you haven’t been gone even a day, and I already miss you.”
Ashley got serious. “I know. I miss you, too. Honey, I need to get some sleep. Tomorrow is my first day back to work after being gone for over a month, and I’m already dreading the mountain of work that I’m sure is waiting for me. So, until the next death threat, I need to say goodnight.”
“You know, you’re impossible, don’t you? Okay, goodnight for now. I’ll talk to you tomorrow night,” Michael said as he hung up.
Ashley thought for a second before she turned out the light; they’d be very lucky if they could stay in touch on a daily basis. Both of their worlds were spinning faster and faster and seemed to be heading in completely opposite directions.
27
Ashley swept into the museum the next morning balancing a cardboard cup holder carrying three hot drinks. She grinned at her secretaries. “I bring you nectar from the gods. Anyone interested in a tall white chocolate latte or a hot chocolate with whipped cream? I come bearing gifts for the troops in the field.”
Her secretaries, both good friends, began bowing, repeating, “We are not worthy; we are not worthy,” as each reached for the drink of choice.
Ashley hugged both of her friends. “Please tell me that every problem that occurred in my absence has been tastefully and tactfully handled and I return to an office free of problems and turmoil.”
“Well . . .” Mavis said thoughtfully, “it all depends on your personal standard of tasteful and tactful. If you’re not overly fussy, I think you may be in luck.”
“Hey, I missed you guys. You know the White House staff could really use a couple of sassy secretaries. It would jazz up an otherwise rather dreary place. But don’t you dare think of defecting; I won’t write you a letter of recommendation worth a damn. We’re a team, and a team sticks together. Tell me, what’d you two do while I was gone to stay out of trouble?”
“We were dutiful secretaries, so we watched the inauguration, of course. We saw Michael, I mean President Taylor, get sworn in and you and the kids standing beside him. It was surreal to see you standing in the middle of our country’s most important event. Even though we work with you and know pretty much what goes on in your life, it’s still hard to believe that you’re married to the president of the United States.
“The purple silk pantsuit looked great on television. Every time you moved, the beads that dangled from the hemline of the top and the cuffs of the sleeves moved and glistened—quite glitzy for daytime in Washington
, DC. You were lucky the weather was unseasonably warm so you didn’t have to wear a coat. Plus, it was fun to listen to the reaction from the press, who think your style is outrageous.
“We noticed that all the rest of the women were wearing tailored suits in a variety of somber colors, just as you said they would, and that Paula lady wore a red one. They looked like their clothes came off an assembly line. We’re glad you didn’t feel pressured to follow suit, no pun intended,” Mavis snickered.
“I’ll bet you didn’t know about the clothing factory in Washington, DC. There’s a conveyor belt that stamps out boring outfits specifically dedicated to the clothing for the wives of politicians and, naturally, our women legislators. Each garment is stamped with a tag saying “Property of the United States Government.” Shoot me if I ever start dressing like that. I mean, really, shoot me because I won’t be me anymore. The invasion of the body snatchers will have taken over my body.”
Kathy said, “Unfortunately there were plenty of comments about what you were or were not wearing and the fact that you don’t want to be the First Lady. News reporters were having a field day at your expense, but I guess that was to be expected, especially during the inauguration. At any rate, you and Michael, or rather, you and the president, looked great. We’re so proud of you.”
“Yeah, it was a very emotional day for our family, too,” Ashley admitted. “Almost like an out-of-body experience and a very intense one at that. I’m glad it’s over, and I’m so proud of Michael. He’ll be a great president.
“Well, enough about that. I’m relieved to be back at work. Would you please buzz Max and see if he can meet with me sometime this morning? Also I’m sure you’ve kept a list of things that need my attention. If you’ve got it, I’ll swing into action.”