by Jan Sumner
Veto
Author Jan Sumner
Copyright 2011 Jan Sumner and JaDan Publishing
VETO
Chapter 1
The lid of the mailbox slammed shut, startling him from his daze. Was this really happening or some nightmarish slumber from which he would soon awaken?
Oh, it was real all right - as real as anything he’d ever been through in his life. The very fact that he was trying to escape made it real, all too real. Whatever the case, Ty had tried to explain it all in the letter to Morgan. But how in the world would she understand? After all, this was her father he was talking about. Not only her father, but also the leading Republican candidate for President of the United States.
He couldn’t worry about that now; he had to disappear. He kept going over it and over it in his mind while waiting for what seemed like an eternity for the plane to leave the gate. “Did I leave any tracks - could they possibly know where I’m going? How could they? I took every imaginable precaution and no one knows where I’m going…except me.”
“Sir, could you please fasten your seat belt? We’ll be taking off soon.”
“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just…” Just confused, afraid, and most certainly bewildered by how his life had spiraled out of control.
Up to this point, Tyler Flynn had been relatively successful and happy. He’d met Morgan at a mutual friend’s party a little over a year ago, and it was chemistry at first sight. She was working for her dad’s campaign and, besides being beautiful, was brilliant as well. But what attracted Ty was her wit and warmth. He’d never had much use for politics, or maybe more accurately, the people in it. Morgan, however, was like a breath of fresh air. She seemed real, genuine, and maybe a little naïve, at least about political affairs. It had been over two years since his breakup with Laura. She’d had every intention of getting married, but Ty just knew something wasn’t quite right. The longer they were together, the more he knew it wasn’t going to work out. It ended abysmally. He’d only dated off and on since then and wasn’t really looking…until Morgan strolled into his life.
It was everything he had ever hoped for - love, passion, laughter, great tête-à-tête, and romance. It was a match made in – well, Chicago. Since 1957 Ty had been running his own insurance loss/control business and, after four hard years of paying his dues, now had several sizeable customers, and the work, besides being varied, allowed him some freedom to pursue other things – like Morgan.
They both liked to sail on Lake Michigan, go to Cubs games, dinner and a movie, but their greatest enjoyment was each other. He never dreamed he could get this close to someone. They’d lay holding each other and have soft whispering conversations that would go on for hours. He loved her more than he thought possible.
They’d been seeing each other for about two months when he finally met her family. Her father, Cornell Eastman, was having a fund raising dinner at the Chicago Hilton in downtown. He was coming off of a very successful two-term residency as a United States senator and had now turned his attention, aspirations and finances toward the presidency. At first meeting it was hard to get a gauge on the man. He was, after all, being political. He was about six feet tall, slightly overweight, partially bald, but had a commanding way about him…a man in charge. Ty could feel the magnetism and sense of power about him. Ty had certainly read about him and had heard nothing but great things about him from Morgan. Jennifer, his wife, seemed a little more distant and decidedly less political. She was classy with a warm softness about her, yet there was a palpable inner strength. It appeared that at times she was playing the game, but she wasn’t at ease with it. Given his knowledge and recently discovered insight into the political arena, Ty liked her. Then there was her brother Steve, tall, thin and fragile, whom Ty had never met until now. Morgan never talked about him much, only that he was two years younger and moved in a different circle. He was there, but reluctantly so. Ty tried to strike up a conversation, “So, Steve what have you been up to?”
“What? Oh you know, just working and things.”
Ty could see this was going to be less than informative. “Really? Where do you work?”
“I’m sorry. Can we discuss this later? I really have to go.”
With that, he rushed out a back door of the hotel. It didn’t really matter. Ty wasn’t going to have much to do with him anyway, he figured. The evening ended on what appeared to be a positive note - Cornell’s rousing speech. Morgan and Ty at last made their way back to Ty’s apartment.
“Wow, what an exhausting evening,” Ty gasp while collapsing on the couch. “Do you have to do this all the time?”
“Well, as often as I can. It’s for my dad you know.” Morgan whispered nestling in next to him.
“Yeah, I know. But do you really enjoy it?’
“Enjoy? Huh, I’m not sure that’s the word that fits. Maybe, fulfilled,” she said, looking worn out.
“Fulfilled? That’s curious. How so?”
“Ty, I know this is all new to you and it’s really not your interest, but politics have occupied my life since I can remember. At first I hated it. I was young and didn’t like all the attention. TV, radio, newspapers, if it wasn’t one, it was the other. It seemed someone was always asking us questions or taking our picture. That’s tough when you’re a kid, just trying to be…a kid.
“But it meant so much to my dad. He’d always been there for me, well at least to the extent he could, and I’ve just always felt I owed it to him. Does that make sense?” He could see she was torn - loyalty to her dad at a tremendous personal sacrifice.
“Yeah, certainly that makes sense. But that’s not what I asked you. Is there any part of it that brings you happiness?”
“No! Will you please drop it now?” Her tone had changed.
“Sure. Sorry, I just wondered.”
As they snuggled on the couch, Ty just couldn’t help himself. “So what about your brother?”
She looked at him with sad with tired eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Never mind. You asked me to drop it, so I will.”
She sighed and nuzzled her head into his chest. In seconds she was asleep. He held her close, hoped she could feel how much he loved her.
“Sir? The flight attendant asked leaning in toward Ty’s seat. “Excuse me sir. Would you like something to drink?”
“No… I’m fine.” He reclined the seat and looked back out the window into the endless blue sky wondering if he’d ever get to see her again.
Chapter 2
“Morgan! Come on let’s get going. You know we have to be there by eleven.”
“I know Mattie, but it’s only eight thirty. Give me a break!”
Mattie, who was not only Morgan’s closest friend, but also helped with her dad’s campaign, was, as usual, in a hurry. To some of Morgan’s friends, this quality was irritating, but Morgan found it somewhat endearing. Plus, they were always on time.
“Oh, here’s your mail. I grabbed it from the mailman on the way in. But don’t be reading it now, we have to GET GOING!”
“Okay Mattie, just let me see what’s there. You and I both know we still have plenty of time. Heck, they won’t even start the introductions until after ten.”
“Alright, but you know how I hate being late.”
Mattie flopped down on the couch and stared aimlessly up at the ceiling, as she was wont to do, when having to wait. Hearing a gasp from across the room, there sat Morgan with the most horrified, desperate expression on her face Mattie had ever seen.
“My God Morgan! What
’s wrong?” She said jumping up quickly.
As she hurried across the room, she could see that Morgan was shaking like a leaf. Morgan looked up from what she was reading, with terror in her eyes.
“You’re scaring me Morgan! What’s wrong?”
There was no response, only trembling hands and flowing tears. Mattie hugged her, trying to lessen her pain. Morgan had been through some tough times with her family, school and the political scene, but Mattie had never seen her like this, so distraught. She held her for a while until Morgan fell away and collapsed in the chair. Mattie could see a letter crumpled in Morgan’s hand, but was afraid to ask.
“Mattie, would you please give me some time alone? I’ll be okay; I just need to sort through this.”
“I’ve never seen you like this Morgan. Are you sure you’ll be alright? I can stay, to heck with the reception.”
“No, please. I need to be alone,” she said adamantly.
“It has to be that letter. Morgan, what’s in…?”
“Mattie, please! Respect me on this. I promise I’ll call you later.”
“You’d better, because you know I won’t wait long. I haven’t even left yet, and I’m worried about you.”
As the door closed, Morgan, still in shock and disbelief, began reading further into the letter from Ty.
My Dearest Morgan,
Before you read another word, I want you to know one thing unequivocally. I love you more than I ever thought it possible to love anyone. I fell in love
with you the minute I met you and love you even more today. Whatever happens in our lives, you must remember that.
I have sent you this letter because I had to leave. I didn’t want to. God knows I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But something horrible has happened.
As Morgan read on, it seemed unbelievable what Ty was telling her. Eugene White, her father’s chief legal counsel had been killed seven weeks earlier and, although horrifying, it had been judged accidental. White and her father had been together for many years, and her dad took it very hard. But when you’re in the throws of a presidential campaign, you have to pull together and keep going. That’s exactly what the Eastman family did. Morgan certainly knew Eugene White, but always found him to be distant. He was, however, completely devoted to her father. Besides being a brilliant attorney, he seemed to have a certain insight into the political process that had become almost more valuable than his legal expertise. Now, Cornell Eastman’s right hand man was gone. A significant dent had been placed in his drive to the White House. Eugene was not married and had no children. His father was dead and his mother was in a nursing home suffering from Alzheimer’s and wasn’t even aware that her son had died. Morgan continued to read on.
Remember when Eugene White was killed and it was thought to be accidental? Well it wasn’t. Or at least I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, because of what’s happened to me since.
Morgan, I’m not quite sure how to tell you this. I figured I’d just keep it to myself, and I guess I hoped it would just go away. I sat on it for some time, because I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me, and it might bring an end to our relationship. That was the last thing in the world I wanted, so I just kept my mouth shut. Then Eugene was killed and everything fell apart.
Morgan felt like she was wandering in a heavy fog. She loved Ty every bit as much as he loved her. What in the world was happening? Why was Ty gone and why the letter? Through her mystic haze, she could hear ringing. It was the phone. Maybe it was Ty calling to tell her this was some hideous mistake.
“Ty, is that…?”
“No Morgan, it’s me Mattie. Are you okay? Do you want me to come back over?”
“Oh… Mattie, I was hoping it was…no I’m alright. I just need some rest.”
“What’s wrong? What’s happened with Ty? Morgan you know you can talk to me – I’m your best friend.”
“I know Mattie, and I’ll tell you when I can. But right now you have to trust me and let me handle this my way.”
“Okay, but you know I’m here for you. You just call, and I’m there in a second.”
“Thanks Mattie – good night.”
Morgan was exhausted, but she had to keep going. She had to know what happened to Ty.
I’m not sure how to tell you this, so I guess I’ll just say it. Several months ago I was doing an inspection in an older part of downtown. It was an old boarding house, secluded, dark and for the most part empty. I’ve done a hundred of these places, they’re all pretty much the same. This one was about eight stories and, as I’ve told you before, I always start in the basement and work my way up. About the fifth floor I was standing in the corner checking a fire extinguisher. It was dark and I moved in close to read the gauge. Several doors down I could hear men’s voices. Familiar voices. I started to move slowly toward the doorway. I hadn’t gone two feet when the door opened and out came…Eugene White. I ducked back into a doorway and watched him walk down to the restroom. I couldn’t believe it Morgan, what was Eugene White doing there…in that place and with who? The door was cracked open a little so I tried to maneuver so I could see inside. I could see some clothes on the bed, but that was it. I didn’t know whether to stay, run or what. It seemed so out of character. I moved back into the shadows of a doorway and waited for him to come back to the room. The whole time I kept thinking how surreal this was. A few minutes later here he came. As he approached the door he stopped and stared in my direction. I was paralyzed with fear. What if he saw me, what would I say? I guess I was too stunned to realize, he was the one who’d have some explaining to do. He turned and went into the room, closing the door behind him. I moved over by the door, trying to hear what was being said. I could hear them fairly well, and recognized the other voice. This is the really hard part Morgan. The other voice was…your dad. They began laughing, and – Morgan I’m so sorry. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I turned and walked away, went home and felt like dying. I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be.
It was though Morgan. I saw it, and heard it. I don’t know if you remember a few months back, but I came up with some pretty lame excuses not to see you for a few days. I couldn’t. I was so torn. Should I say anything, and if I did, what would happen then? There’s no way in the world you would have believed it. I’m not sure I believed it. But the fact is, it happened, and I was there. I finally decided to just bury it. They hadn’t seen me, so no harm. I could sit on this, especially if it meant us being together. I thought I was safe with my secret. I know they hadn’t seen me…but someone else did.
Morgan sat in a stupor. And now there was that damned ringing again. I’m too tired, she thought, This is probably a dream anyway. The ringing had stopped, but only for a moment. Again, and again. She snapped out of her haze, “Maybe, just maybe it’s…”
“Ty? Is that you?”
“That’s it, I’m coming over, and you’re going to tell me what’s going on.”
“Damn it Mattie, no I’m not. I told you I’d tell you when I can. I appreciate your concern, but please leave me alone. I’m okay. Okay!”
She didn’t give Mattie a chance to answer this time. She hung up the phone and went back to lie on the couch. With the letter still clutched in her fingers, she slipped into a dream. She could see Ty working the rigging on her dad’s sailboat.
“Isn’t this the best? Don’t you just love coming out here? The water splashing, the wind blowing. You know Morgan, I love this almost and, that’s almost, as much as I love you.”
“Oh, sure Ty,” she said laughing. “I know how much you love sailing. I just hope I’m in the same ballpark.”
Pulling her into his arms as they slipped across the water, “Ballpark! You’re the infield, outfield and everything in between. Wrigley doesn’t hold a candle to you, although it is slightly older and makes better hot
dogs.”
Even in her anxiety she missed him…deeply.
Chapter 3
As Steve Eastman made his way up the stairs of the old apartment house, he kept wondering how he might disappear - detach himself from the Eastman family, move on and be left alone. He and his sister Morgan had never really talked about it, so he really didn’t have a take on how she liked all this political stuff. But he was sure how he felt. He hated it!
As he approached the door, he could hear Pines of Rome by Respighi, seeping into the hallway. Was there a more beautiful piece of music ever written? He and Tim didn’t think so. They were almost as fond of Respighi, as they were of each other. This was probably the greatest burden to bear for Steve. For months he’d had to sneak around with Tim. Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. God forbid any of this leaked to the press, what with his oh so important father running for president. He opened the door to that delectable smell of Fettuccini Alfredo that Tim seemed to have a special gift for making.
“How was the reception?”
“The usual - boring,” Steve said unexcitedly. “You know Tim, I don’t know how much longer I can go on with this charade. It’s only going to get worse. The closer he gets to the nomination, the more scrutiny there will be.”
“Steve, it will work out. I’ve told you I’m okay with the way things are, so you need to calm down and enjoy what we have. If he doesn’t get the nomination, we can move forward with our lives. If he gets it…well we’ll deal with that when the time comes. Come on, I’ve made your favorite pasta, piggy’s on (their pet name for Respighi), let’s have a pleasant evening.”
Ironically Steve had met Tim Hull at one of his father’s fundraisers. Tim was there protesting Cornell Eastman’s stand on gay rights. As usual, Steve had shown up to make his token appearance. He knew how his dad felt about gays, “Half a bubble off center” as he used to call them, which had for all intents and purposes killed any relationship they might have had. Even though Steve chose never to admit it, it hurt him deeply.
His dad had taken him aside one afternoon at the house and asked him, actually it was more like told him, that he was aware of his life style and that if he had any concern for his family, he’d keep it under wraps, “Or the covers, so to speak,” then laughed out loud. Steve was embarrassed and humiliated, and even though he agreed, he swore to himself that someday he’d make him pay for that remark.
