Trouble in the White House

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Trouble in the White House Page 20

by Brenda Hampton


  “Alex, I’m going to take that deal and let you walk out of here a free man. But I suggest that you move quickly, because I am known for abruptly changing my mind.”

  Alex stood and made his way to the door. Before opening it, he turned to address me. “I trust that you and Raynetta will work through your differences, sir. She’s an amazing woman, and deep down, she really does love you. I hope you know how lucky you really are.”

  “You’re the one who is lucky. And it would be wise for you to get the fuck out of my office, instead of offering me some last-minute advice.”

  Alex left without saying another word. I quickly got on the phone to call Levi.

  “Ina,” I said to him. “Go to her house. See if you can find her. Talk to her about Joshua, and see what kind of vibes you get. If you can, keep an eye on her for a few days. Somebody just told me something that points in her direction. I’m feeling it. We’re on to something.”

  “Ina?” he questioned. “I’m shocked to hear this, but you know I’ll see what’s up. Maybe we are on to something, and no stone must go unturned.”

  I ended the call, laid the receiver down, and then left the Oval Office to go deal with my darling wife.

  First Lady,

  Raynetta Jefferson

  Alex had taken me to an event earlier, but our conversation had been kept to a minimal. He’d apologized, and the only thing I’d advised was for us to move on and put the incident behind us. He hadn’t said much after that, but what he didn’t know was that he would soon be replaced. I no longer wanted him around: even though I might have stirred up his feelings, it was best that he was as far away from me as possible. I felt horrible about all of this. Even felt terrible for him. But this was what it had come to, and I had to someway or somehow deal with one of the biggest mistakes I’d made thus far.

  I had just finished my shower, so I turned off the water, then reached for a towel to wrap around myself. I combed my wet hair back, and after brushing it into a sleek ponytail, I went into the bedroom. Catching me off guard, Stephen stood by the window with his hand in his pocket. He was gazing outside. When he heard me, he turned his head to look at me.

  “How was your day?” he said.

  “It was fine. I plan to turn in early for bed. I’m a little tired.”

  “Yeah, you made that quite clear. You’re tired of me, tired of my mother, tired of everything, including this marriage. The questions is, are you tired of having sex with Alex yet?”

  In an instant, my heart dropped somewhere below my stomach. Now, I always knew that news around the White House traveled fast. But how in the hell did Stephen know about me and Alex? Did Alex mention it to Stephen? I couldn’t tell him what had really happened, and there was no way for me to explain why I had invited Alex to the hotel to begin with. In that moment, I had to deny everything.

  “I don’t know where you’re getting your information from, but that would be very incorrect.”

  Stephen snickered as he moved away from the window. His movement caused me to move in another direction. I eased over to the bed and stood by the post. The towel started to slide off my body, so I pulled it up with one hand. Stephen squinted at me from a distance before moving closer to me.

  “Incorrect? Okay.” He reached out to touch my neck, causing me to jump. “No worries. I’m not going to hurt you, so stop flinching. But, uh, what’s that on your neck?”

  His calmness made me fearful. I moved his hand away from my neck, unaware of what he was talking about. Then it hit me—the red marks and bruises I had seen on my body while showering. I had resisted Alex even more when he sucked my neck and breasts and just wouldn’t stop.

  “I don’t know what you’re referring to. I had a minor altercation with someone at the event earlier. There was pushing and shoving. I was in the middle.”

  Stephen shot me a look that killed me a thousand times. I was just not prepared to go there with him right now and explain my actions. But as I attempted to move away from him again, he yanked the towel away from my body, then pushed me back on the bed. I sat up on my elbows, saw something in his eyes that told me to stay calm.

  “Don’t move and don’t say one word, or else I will slap the shit out of you, just like you did to me the other day.” His eyes scanned my body from head to toe. “You have no shame, do you? You feel safe to come in here with suck marks on your neck . . . on your breasts. . . .” He grabbed my leg, pulled it until it was straight. “And there’s a bruise on your thigh. What did you let him do, Raynetta? Beat your ass? Whatever he did, I’m sure you enjoyed yourself.” He pushed my leg away from him, causing it to hit the bedpost. I didn’t know what he was going to do to me, but maybe I could tell him something . . . anything that was some kind of justification for what I had done.

  “My only objective was for you to feel my pain. You—”

  Stephen silenced me when he reached forward and grabbed my face. His fingers were pressed into my cheeks, while his hand covered my mouth.

  “Mission accomplished, because I feel your fucking pain! I told you that I didn’t have sex with her, but whether I did or not, you would’ve fucked him, anyway! If you think this was the best way to get my attention and seek revenge, you are sadly mistaken. You don’t mean shit to me anymore, Raynetta. Nothing. And I hope you’re real proud of yourself for scoring another point against me.”

  He released my face; my mouth was stiff, and my cheeks were sore. His words stung, and I hoped that mine did too.

  “You can’t keep running over me and expect for me to sit back and do nothing. Maybe this wasn’t the right thing to do, but what’s done is done. It’s done, and I’m sorry if you can’t handle what I have endured for many years.”

  I could sense that Stephen wanted to hit me; that was something he had never done. The tight look on his face said it all—I was in major trouble. His eyes shifted to the suck marks on my breasts again. He clenched his fists, and with a heightened level of anger, he yanked me off the bed, causing me to fall on the floor, hard on my ass. He kneeled over me, then grabbed the back of my head. His face was close to mine, forcing me to look into his eyes.

  “Alex is no more. You are no more. This marriage is no more. And if I ever hear you boast about what he did to you, I will kill you, Raynetta. I swear to God that I could kill you right now, and I’m fighting real hard not to snap your fucking neck.”

  I blinked the tears from my eyes, remaining real silent. He appeared very unstable. I was so worried about what he would do or what he had already done. What did he mean by “Alex is no more”? Had he done something to him? That would be so messed up, but for now, I was more concerned about Stephen’s behavior and about my safety. Since I hadn’t responded, he released his tight hold on me. He stepped over me, and then he went into the bathroom. I heard the water come on, and after I got off the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, he left the bathroom.

  Without saying another word, he opened the door to our bedroom, walked out, and slammed the door behind him. I felt relieved that he had left without really hurting me. My forehead ached, and as I massaged my temple, I reached for my cell phone on the nightstand. I dialed Alex’s number just to express my regrets.He didn’t pick up, so I left a message.

  “Forgive me for putting you in the middle of this mess. I don’t want any trouble, and I regret all of this. Stephen knows what happened, and I don’t think it would be wise for you to come back here ever again. Stay away, Alex, and if you appreciate your life, you will.”

  I turned my head to place the phone back on the nightstand. That was when I felt my ponytail being pulled backward. Stephen had a tight grip on me, and I didn’t realize how powerful it was until I was pulled across the bed and my body hit the floor hard. Apparently, calling Alex was a bad idea.

  “You couldn’t wait for me to leave, could you?” he said. He unbuckled his leather belt, removed it from around his waist. I couldn’t believe that he was about to strike me with it, but when he wrapped part of it aro
und his hand, this shit had gotten real.

  “Nooo!” I shouted to get through to him. He was gone. The rage in his eyes said so. The sweat rolling down his forehead showed how heated he was, and the vein popping out of his neck displayed that as well. “Stop and listen, okay? I didn’t want it. I swear to you, I made a big mistake! Don’t do this, Stephen, because if you do, we will never recover from this!”

  “I don’t give a damn about a recovery, and you’re absolutely right you made a mistake!” He raised his hand, and when it came down, the belt slapped the floor right next to me. I rolled over, hoping to avoid being hit.

  “Please don’t do this! Don’t hurt me. . . . I know you don’t want to hurt me!” I uttered quaveringly.

  This was so unbelievable to me, I started to cry. What had I done to my husband, to us? Where in the hell was he? He dropped the belt, but as he clenched his fist, I covered my face with my hands. Stephen fell over me, and right beside my head, I could hear his fist pound the floor.

  “Why, Raynetta?” he shouted. “I have all this shit going on, and all you can do is keep on bringing me your fucking drama! Time and time again, you just keep on trying to break me! You haven’t said one damn thing about my son. You haven’t asked how you can help alleviate some of the pressure I’m under. You . . .” Breathing heavily, he paused, then dropped his sweaty forehead on my heaving chest. And after a long moment of silence, he spoke in a soft tone.

  “You are so selfish, and you are exactly the woman my mother said you would be. I had faith in you, but you have disappointed me in so many ways. Damn, Raynetta. Why have you failed me, especially at a time when I need you to stand with me?”

  It did me no good to explain myself to Stephen right now. He wasn’t in the right frame of mind to listen. I had never thought that my being with another man would bring him to this, and no matter how much I tried to justify what I had done, this was bad. Real bad. And the guilt I felt was unlike anything I had ever felt before. I lifted Stephen’s head from my chest, held it with my hands. He closed his eyes so I wouldn’t see his emotions.

  “I regret all of this, but something tells me that no matter what I say, you will never forgive me,” I told him. “And no matter how many times that I’ve forgiven you, none of that will matter. If you want me to go, I will go. We can’t continue to destroy each other like this and then think that the love we have for each other will save us.”

  Stephen swallowed the lump in his throat before opening his watery eyes. He wiped his hand down his face, and after he got off of me, he calmly walked out of the room. I honestly did not know what to do, but it was evident that we needed some space. I couldn’t live up to my role as the first lady—not like this. I couldn’t be the woman I knew I could be if hurting him was my objective. The battles, even the ones he faced as president, could be won only if we had each other’s back. We didn’t, and this was a result of that.

  No, we weren’t perfect, but I had to admit that this was messy. I wasn’t pleased that we had been gifted with an opportunity to show the world that being messy wasn’t always a way of life, especially with African American couples, and then we had failed miserably to make our case. Shame on us. . . . Shame on me. And now I had to go back to the drawing board and examine my mistakes. Unfortunately, that meant leaving the White House and focusing not so much on Stephen but on myself.

  President of the United States,

  Stephen C. Jefferson

  With me occupying the highest office in the land, I didn’t have much time to deal with personal problems. World issues refused to wait, and the very next day after my gut-wrenching evening with Raynetta, several other things were on the horizon. Three African American men, armed and dangerous, had gone into a beauty salon in an affluent neighborhood in California and blasted eight Caucasian women and one child. The men were still on the loose, and the media was going crazy. The White House was pretty active too, and every time I put my phone down, it rang again.

  If that crime wasn’t enough to get everyone riled up, a major hurricane that had hit the East Coast surely was. Many lives had been lost, and it had been reported that the United States hadn’t seen a storm quite like this one before. The governor in North Carolina had declared a state of emergency. I had to sign off on allocating millions of dollars to help the state clean up and rebuild. In the midst of it all, there was no word on Joshua. All the people I had looking into this matter had come up empty, even Levi, who had confirmed that Ina was in no way involved in Joshua’s disappearance. I was back to square one.

  “I don’t know what Alex was talking about,” Levi said when we finally spoke at length about the matter by telephone. “But he was barking up the wrong tree. I spoke to Ina. She seems more upset about this than anyone. She’s particularly mad at you. Stressed how she never wants to see you again.”

  “I have no problem with that, but what did she say about Joshua? Is she investigating where he may be at all? Did she give you the impression that she was looking for him?”

  “She mentioned that she had some people on her end trying to find Joshua. I followed her around for a few days, but I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I suggest that when things calm down, you reach out to her. Let her know that you’re on her side, and try to work together on finding out where Joshua is. The more people involved, the better.”

  Maybe Levi was right. I would reach out to Ina in a few more days, just to see if we could put our issues to rest and put together a collaborative effort to find Joshua.

  “I’ll call her in due time. But when are you coming back to Washington?” I said.

  “Sometime early next week. I’ve been visiting a few family members in St. Louis. Promised my cousin that I would stay for her birthday party this weekend. If you need me to come back sooner, let me know. I’m sure it’s hectic around there, and it’s a damn shame what those men did. Stuff like that makes it harder for us. The language I’ve heard referencing those men on the news and on the radio isn’t good. That kind of hatred only angers more people.”

  It wasn’t often that Levi and I disagreed. I told him I’d see him next week and asked him to keep me posted on any news.

  For the next several hours, Andrew, Sam, the VP, and I sat in VP Bass’s office, waiting to hear if the men who had murdered those women and a child had been captured. We all feared that more people would be injured, so there was a huge effort by law enforcement and the FBI to shut this down quickly. As of yet, we weren’t sure what the motive for the crime was, but there were plenty of people speculating about it. Even VP Bass. She didn’t hold back on what she was feeling inside.

  “This is why you can’t pick and choose sides, Mr. President,” she asserted. “These idiots come in all shapes, sizes, and colors, and I have a hunch that those women were targeted because they were wealthy white women. You can deny that all you want, but it is what it clearly is.”

  I wasn’t looking for an argument with VP Bass, but obviously, she was looking for one with me. “I haven’t said much to you at all, and I will keep my opinion to myself until we have all the facts,” I said.

  She snapped back. “You should weigh in. There are eight women dead, along with a child. It doesn’t matter what color they are, and as president, you should be willing to say that the killers were wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! There is no other way to put it!”

  I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she wanted from me, but I remained calm. “It was wrong. Very wrong. And whenever those men are caught, they will face consequences for their actions.”

  She crossed her arms and pouted. “Saying it’s wrong isn’t enough. Why aren’t you running to the podium to deliver one of your speeches about racism in America? If it was the other way around, you would be pandering to African Americans, shouting black power, and making promises to them about finding the killers. I’ve watched you, Mr. President. I know whose side you’re on. It damn sure isn’t the side of white women.”

  Andrew interjected a remark before
I did. “Wait a minute. You’re being very unfair. The president cares deeply for everyone in this country. He wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”

  “She’s just making that claim because she’s upset,” Sam added. “We all are, but your comments are a bit of a stretch.”

  “No, they’re not.” VP Bass kept it going by defending her words. “Any other time, the president would be walking around here, shouting, pointing fingers, and ordering people around. Today, however, he’s calmer than I have ever seen him. It’s as if nothing has happened and there are no freaking Negroes on the loose.”

  I guessed she’d made her point, because I had enough of her foolishness. “Right now, the only white woman whose side I am not on is yours. If you want me to show my ass, I will do so, per your request.”

  I grabbed her by the arm and escorted her to the door. She snatched her arm away from me, then straightened her jacket.

  “I don’t know how many times I have to warn you, Mr. President, but this is the last straw. Keep your dirty, filthy hands off of me, or else you will be faced with—”

  I grabbed her arm again, this time holding it much tighter. “Yeah, I know. You’ll sue, and I’ll win, because I have witnesses who are sick and tired of you making everything about whites and niggers. Niggers like me, with filthy hands. Go wash off the residue from my touch, and while you’re at it, use some soap to clean your dirty-ass, slick mouth, which I have seriously had enough of.”

  I shoved her out of her own office, then slammed the door and locked it before I walked away. She pounded on the door.

  “Open this door right now! This is my office! You can’t shut me out of my own office, sir!”

  “Face reality,” I shouted from the inside. “You were just shut out, and you will not come back in!”

  I heard her using vulgar language as she marched away from the door. The truth was, I didn’t have time for her insults today. There was too much on my mind. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about those women. I did care. I was just saddened that it had come to this in our country. We had seen it brewing many years ago, but little effort was made to unite us. That was the sad part. So sad. There were days when I wanted to walk away from it all. This was one of those days, but I had to tough it out. I simply had to, because the fight was in me to make things better, especially in the area of race relations.

 

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