A Primary Decision

by Dr. Kevin Leman

  Will thought of his private phone call to Thomas Rich and his urgent question: “Will you still do what I asked? Honor the request I made of you? Even if that means hurting someone dear to you?”

  Will had had his doubts that the man would back a Worthington over his own blood. Now, though, Will had proof of the answer. But how exactly had Thomas managed to pull those strings so quickly?

  “So Spencer is out of the race,” Bill said as soon as Sean called.

  “Was that the phone call you needed to make?” Sean asked. “To Thomas?”

  “Yes, son, it was. It was time for us to protect our family.” Bill paused. “Thomas agreed it was only right. He didn’t explain how, but he said he’d take care of it.”

  Sean’s thoughts whirled. Spencer wasn’t the kind of man who would back down easily, nor would he simply do his father’s wishes if asked.

  That means Thomas has something Spencer doesn’t want known.

  Sean blew out a breath. Could it have anything to do with the bombing? The ISIS funds? Or was it something else?

  At this juncture, Sean wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  Sometimes it was best just to let sleeping dogs lie.

  A SECURE LOCATION

  “I can imagine how angry Spencer was,” he told the man. “But he acted more swiftly than either of us expected.”

  “Too much was at stake for him not to pay attention,” the man said brusquely.

  That was the crux of the issue. If the cell phone was released, it would mean more than the end of Spencer Rich’s political career. He could have been the first president tried for treason for using foreign funds—terrorist money—in a campaign and thus removed from office. Instead, Spencer had clearly decided to weather out the rest of his presidential career until the next president was elected.

  “Sarah Worthington is now the only clear Republican candidate. With the recent press conference, her ratings have rocketed. That she’ll win the Republican National Convention is a given. It wouldn’t surprise me if the other candidates drop out as well.”

  “And no one on the Democratic side is even close to her rankings,” the man said. “That means, with a united Republican effort behind one beloved candidate—”

  “Yes. Shortly a Worthington will be at the helm of the most powerful country in the world.”

  61

  CLEVELAND, OHIO

  The Republican National Convention convened in Cleveland, Ohio, on July 18–21. The Democratic National Convention would be held July 25 in Philadelphia. Both would undertake their traditional work in not only selecting their party’s majority nominee for president but fine-tuning their party platforms.

  Sean and Sarah had barely taken a breath since the press conference. Sean had fielded some very angry calls from Kiki Estrada after Spencer Rich withdrew. Yet Kiki clearly knew the Democratic Party didn’t have a leg to stand on in the race to the White House. No one could go up against a candidate like Sarah Worthington and win now. Even some of those who didn’t usually vote Republican had swung to the Republican side during the primaries. But that didn’t mean the Democrats were ready to back down.

  When the voting was held in the evening at the Republican National Convention, Sarah won the nomination by a wide margin.

  On the final day of the convention, her acceptance speech was received with thundering applause.

  “I stand here tonight,” she concluded, “because of a rock-solid mantra I’ve grown up with—‘Do the right thing always.’ America is faced with significant challenges, and we must choose to do the right thing for our nation, for our world, and for each other. We must also ensure that the generations to come can pursue their dreams. We must have the courage to make needed changes to strengthen the stance of America, to bring about a stable economy that honors the dignity of work and rewards self-enterprise. No one person can do it. We all are needed. Together we can restore America’s standing not only as the most powerful nation in the world, but as a country that truly cares for and provides for individual Americans.” She raised her hand in a fist. “Those are my commitments to you. Commitments that I will fulfill as the next president of the United States.”

  The wave of cheering was deafening.

  NEW YORK CITY

  Will watched Sarah’s RNC speech on the large monitor in his office. He’d had no doubt she’d emerge as the majority nominee, and now it was a done deal.

  He nodded in satisfaction. Choosing the high road and staying on the path didn’t always garner short-term gains, but such strategy won in the long term, whether in business or in politics.

  Spencer Rich still remained in office. The impeachment proceedings continued, almost as a backdrop to his presidential work and as a formality now that he’d announced he wouldn’t run for another term. Therefore, he wouldn’t likely be removed from office until a new president was inaugurated.

  Stapleton’s public life and Spencer Rich’s private life were both playing out as sad dramas of what riches and power did to those who didn’t deserve them—those who didn’t follow the “much is required” mantra that Bill Worthington held so dear and had passed on as an enduring legacy to his children. Both had fallen hard for the false ideas that only they mattered and that they could do whatever it took to get the things they wanted.

  Every step in Stapleton’s life had led to a slow slide of morals. The truth of how low the man had gone was likely buried in so many layers over the years that it could never be proved. Had Stapleton had anything to do with Rebecca’s parents’ sudden deaths, so she’d have to become dependent on him? Will hoped not, but his gut told him otherwise.

  Then, after Rebecca died, Stapleton had likely watched Justin come unhinged. Yet he had not stepped in to help his own son. Instead, to bring financial gain to the company where he was board chairman, he had arranged to hire his own son to bomb AF’s headquarters. Had he been so callous as to think he could also get rid of any connection to an out-of-wedlock son in the same action? Had he known what might happen when Justin was herded to the edge of that building?

  The very thought was sickening, and such a contrast to Bill Worthington’s sacrificial love. Even after suspecting for years that Sean wasn’t his biological son, and that his wife had had an affair with his best friend, he had given Sean the Worthington name and treated him as his son, even when their relationship wasn’t easy.

  Will’s eyes flicked back to the screen. His gaze settled on the two Worthington men who now stood together. Bill’s hand was planted firmly on his son’s shoulder. A camera panned his face. He was looking proudly toward his daughter, smiling.

  Life had its days where things turned out exactly as they should.

  Today was one of them.

  CLEVELAND, OHIO

  Sean crossed his arms in satisfaction. They’d achieved the next stage in the process. The fight was far from over, though. Now the election campaign would begin, with the top candidates from each side going head-to-head with each other in what usually became heated debates.

  Sarah’s strong stance on the issues Americans cared about and her interaction with voters and policy makers was critical in the intervening months. Americans would cast their ballots in November. Those ballots, contrary to public opinion, weren’t votes for a chosen candidate. Instead, the ballots selected groups of electors in the electoral college who actually cast the votes for president in December. That was why a candidate could win literally millions of popular votes but still no electoral votes.

  Sarah’s election campaign had to focus on every strata of America, showing equal interest and concern.

  It was a big job. Some would call it impossible, especially for a female candidate without a lot of years in politics behind her.

  Sean grinned. As a Worthington, he didn’t believe in the word impossible. Neither did Sarah.

  No, their fight wasn’t over. They still had a long road ahead. But Sean and Sarah were both determined that on January 20 of the following year, Sarah Worthingt
on would be the one inaugurated as president of the United States.

  62

  NEW YORK CITY

  Sarah had adjusted to the election campaign trail in the last three months as if she’d been born to do just that. Hugging the elderly, getting on eye level with children, talking with blue-collar workers, discussing the needs of the middle class, listening to corporate executives about their concerns—all were realms in which she was comfortable. Her margin in the important states of Iowa, New York, and others was widely increasing.

  Several outspoken political analysts had announced there was no longer any contest in the race. Even powerful Democrats, disgruntled with their own weak choice for president, admitted they’d vote for her.

  Sarah had won the trust of Americans by her honesty, integrity, humility, sense of humor, and straightforward, take-charge attitude.

  At last she had a few quiet hours back in New York at her penthouse. She would relish them.

  Glancing toward her dining room table, she smiled at the vase of white daisies that adorned it. The card read, A reminder of the simple things.

  In her refrigerator was a carton of her favorite spicy Indian curry, with another note: Because I know how much you love this . . . and how little time you’ve had to eat.

  Only an investigative reporter like Jon could manage to wangle his way past the by-the-book bellman downstairs to deliver both of those items.

  He was on assignment, or she knew he’d be there himself. He’d been true to his promise to always be there and not go far.

  Sarah propped her feet up on the coffee table and threw an afghan over her toes. Life truly is a work in progress, constantly unfolding, she reflected. Just as her mother had claimed, Sarah’s revealed destiny was an assortment of experiences and choices that built upon each other—like the individual shells on her mother’s sea chest—instead of a perfect, distinguishable masterpiece from the beginning.

  Sean was so glad to be landed. He glanced around his One Madison penthouse and grinned. It was no longer the cold, sterile environment of a bachelor. Now it was bursting with bits of color and patterned fabrics from Elizabeth’s travels around the world.

  With Sean’s attentions distracted, Elizabeth had taken a three-month research project with her father on board a ship in the Indian Ocean. The ol’ coot needed some company, she’d said. It was like old times, when she did everything with her father.

  But Sean had missed her. She’d fly in tomorrow, and Sean couldn’t wait.

  In the meanwhile, in the quiet, he decided it was time. Elizabeth had suggested he read the last entry in Thomas’s leather journal when he was by himself. Then they could process it together, after he’d had time to reflect.

  He picked up the journal and caressed the soft leather. The book had been a wealth of information in helping him understand his birth father. It was with both anticipation and regret that he opened to the last page.

  And now, Sean, our story may end here or continue. That is up to you. I will no longer follow you without your permission. I will not contact you unless you wish it so. Although I long to be in your life and to be called “family” again among the Worthingtons, that is not my decision. It is yours. It is your father’s and mother’s. I will never again take control over something that is not my right to control.

  But no matter what decision you make, my feelings for you, Ava, and Bill will not change. To me, you will always be family. I love you, Sean.

  If I can ever earn the right to address you as my beloved son, I would be honored and grateful.

  Forever,

  Thomas

  Sean stared at the final page. So many emotions had vied for expression since he’d discovered his true parentage. After realizing his own weaknesses, he had forgiven his mother. Through the journal, he had begun to understand Thomas Rich. Compassion for his birth father flooded over Sean.

  Thomas. I forgive you. And I will work toward accepting you as a part of my life.

  It was all Sean could give at the moment. But for now, it was enough to know that their destinies as father and son would continue to be intertwined.

  A SECURE LOCATION

  He remembered the scene as if it were yesterday, even though it was decades ago.

  Hearing crying, he’d sought out the source. He found Ava Worthington searching through an old trunk of her grandmother’s. He rushed to her side. “Are you all right?”

  She extended some baby shoes toward him in a pleading gesture. “What am I to do with them?”

  Confused, he took them gently from her. Did she lose a baby I didn’t know about?

  “Turn them over,” she whispered.

  He did. On the backs of those shoes was a message in feminine script: “To Sean Thomas. A Gift of Love.” But when separated, the left shoe read “To Sean” and “A Gift.” The right shoe had the words “Thomas” and “of Love.”

  “Sean’s shoes?” he asked.

  Her tears didn’t make sense until she explained that after Sean’s birth, Thomas Rich, the president of the United States and a dear university friend, had seen his baby picture in the news. Thomas had called to talk to her, but she had refused the call. Now she regretted that action.

  “With that single move, I cut my son off from his birth father—part of his heritage,” she said.

  He’d never forget the shock he’d felt at that moment as the truth registered.

  “You’re the only one I can trust,” Ava said brokenly. “Bill doesn’t know.” She handed him a slip of paper with a phone number. “Call Thomas,” she begged. “Tell him the truth. He needs to know for sure that Sean is his son. He will understand why I can’t contact him. But wait—” She rummaged frantically through the old trunk. “Meet him. Give these to him. Tell him I sent them. They are all I have left to give.”

  She held up the right baby shoe and a tiny white shirt embroidered with pink and purple flowers. “He will understand why I’m sending these items.” She extracted some tissue and lovingly wrapped the items, then handed them to him.

  “Any message?” he asked.

  “Tell him . . .” She hesitated. “Sometime he may be called upon to watch over Sean, and to help his old friends Ava and Bill. When that time comes, I trust him to do the right thing.”

  He did her bidding exactly as she wished.

  Two days later, while Bill was on a business trip, the man flew to Langley with the package and delivered it directly to Thomas Rich, the now former president of the United States, in his home.

  He had returned with both Thomas’s promise and a secret assignment.

  One that remained to this day.

  63

  NEW YORK CITY

  After months of hard work on the election campaign, Sean knew the next few hours would be the toughest ones. It was November 4, the day the votes would be tallied. As the results rolled in from each state, Sean and Sarah stood side by side in her campaign headquarters.

  The entire Worthington family, plus Jon and Drew, would gather there later for the final countdown. Whether Sarah won or lost, they would be together.

  Laura greeted Will with a kiss at the door. “I figured you might come home early today,” she teased.

  “Couldn’t focus,” he told her.

  “I understand. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

  His mind had been on his sister all day. Was it indeed her destiny to become the next president of the United States? And not only that, but the first female president?

  He replayed the conversation he’d had earlier that day with his father.

  “When I told you it was about time a Worthington turned this country around,” Bill said, “I didn’t think the first Worthington in six generations to make a bid for the presidency would be your sister.”

  “Neither did I,” Will said, “but even before she told me, I had this feeling she’d run. And I didn’t question it. I knew it was right.”

  “Well, I was wrong. It wasn’t your place, or Sean’s. It was
Sarah’s all the while. I’m so proud of you, Will—for the way you have relentlessly and passionately pursued growing Worthington Shares, and also for your integrity in doing the right thing for American Frontier. I know it hasn’t been easy, and it won’t be easy going forward. But you will wake up every morning knowing what it feels like to change the world, and tackle it again. The same goes for Sean, who is changing the world every day in a very different way that is perfectly suited to him. I’m so proud of him. And Sarah, who chose to defend the defenseless in law school, tackled the tough jobs at the DOJ and then as AG, and had the courage to pursue her dream. You have all fulfilled the ‘much is required’ mantra.”

  Will was stunned. It was the longest speech his father had ever given, and the most affectionate one Will had ever heard him utter.

  As he reviewed his father’s words now, he realized anew that more than just an election hung in the balance. Principalities and powers were watching all around them. The fate of a nation—and those of the nations America touched—hovered.

  The still, small voice spoke. It is well, Will.

  Suddenly he knew. There was only one possible outcome of this primary decision.

  Six generations had waited for this night. And they would not be disappointed.

  Sarah waited, eyes transfixed on the monitors that announced the results from the final few states that could swing the balance.

  Her father stepped up next to her. His arm circled her shoulders protectively. “I believe in you, princess,” he whispered. “I’ve always believed in you.” As the last tallies came in, he stood with her—an island in the sea of election-day tumult.

  Twenty minutes later, champagne corks popped around the room. A happy chaos reigned.

  Sarah’s mom hugged her with joyful tears.

  “You knew we’d do it,” Sean threw at her before he was off networking and celebrating with the campaign volunteers.

  Will, Bill, and Drew were all uncharacteristically grinning.