“My mother will love it.” Dev signed her name again, wishing she had taken David up on his offer to get her a stamp for the less important documents. But no, she had to be a “President of the People” who signed every scrap of paper that came across her desk. I think David only listens to me on things like this to torture me. He knows he knows best! “By the way, after we get married you get to sign off on all the kids’ report cards.”
Lauren stared at Dev. “What?”
“Never mind.” She signed her name for the last time and stood up, taking a deep breath. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s eat. I’m starved and I’ve got another meeting in less than a half hour.”
Lauren joined Devlyn at the serving table. Once the coffee was poured and they were both back on one of the sofas, Dev gave the voice command to increase the volume of the newscast. “Ooo, look who’s getting a spot on the news.” She gestured as Lauren’s face appeared above the coat rack.
“Terrific,” Lauren mumbled around a mouthful of eggs. “I saw them when I ran into Geoffrey yesterday.” Her expression darkened. “Assholes.” Her short relationship with the media had already been a stormy one. “I should have figured a camera was on me.”
“You can never safely pick your nose again.”
“I would never!” She laughed, and then she winked. “At least in public. But the Republican Party Chairman doesn’t let the cameras stop him.”
“Why do you think I avoid shaking his hand?”
The television picture shifted to a shot of Lauren walking alongside the Vice President.
“You need to get him out more, Devlyn. Half of America doesn’t even believe that Vice President Geoffrey Vincent actually exists. Late night television is saying he’s really just a good looking blowup doll.”
Dev burst out laughing. “Brenda must love that one. Rubber-hubby.”
Lauren chuckled, but sobered quickly, thinking of why exactly Geoff had to move around so much. The thought of the assassination attempt on Devlyn usually made her physically ill.
Dev patted her hand but didn’t say anything.
A still shot of Lauren appeared over the anchorman’s right shoulder.
“Presidential fiancée Lauren Strayer’s decision to primarily take public rather than government transportation has been called ‘insane’ by security specialists and ‘incredible’ by the public.
“White House pollsters are smiling over Ms. Strayer’s recent jump in popularity. It seems her refusal to strictly adhere to White House protocol has endeared her to working-class America as well as young voters.”
“Television off.” The image disappeared. “Well, well,” Dev teased Lauren, nudging her with her elbow. “They didn’t mention you living here in sin with me. Will wonders never cease? Keep it up and they’ll give you my job.”
“As if I’d want your job. Trailing around after you all day is exhausting enough. Being you would kill me. Besides, then I’d technically be sleeping with myself and doing things to myself that would make me go blind or grow hair on my palms. And I’m just not up for that. I’ll keep my job, thanks.”
Dev hastily swallowed her mouthful of coffee so she wouldn’t lose it laughing. “Chicken.”
Lauren waved her fork at Dev. “Where do you think these eggs came from?”
Dev smiled just as she heard a single knock on her inner office door, and David entered. His gaze stopped on Lauren and his feet ground to a halt. “Oh, I’m sorry, Lauren. I didn’t know you’d be here. I thought you were out of town.”
“Got back early.” She gestured to the couch across from where she and Dev were sitting. “Come have some coffee with us. How’s Beth?”
He made a face and loosened his tie. “Mad at me for something, and I can’t figure out what.” He handed Devlyn a stack of papers before pouring a cup of steaming coffee and sitting down with a groan. “Did you know I’m as dumb as a bag of dirt?”
“I’ve always suspected,” Dev answered as she looked at the papers. “What’s this?”
“Your speech for the Steel Workers of America. You’re going to Detroit today.”
She looked at Lauren and shrugged. “I am?”
“You are.”
“And when was this decided?”
“Last week.”
“Shit.” She tossed the papers onto the coffee table. “I tell ya, if Liza doesn’t get off vacation soon I’m going to lose my mind. That temp who is taking her place is worthless.”
David frowned. “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you want me to get you another one?”
Lauren gave Dev a knowing look as she spoke to David. “Don’t bother. If it’s not Liza she still won’t be happy.”
“Gotcha.” David nodded. “Sorry, Chief, but Detroit it is. You leave at 11:30, but should be home before your munchkins are in bed.”
“Great.” Dev looked at Lauren with round, innocent eyes. “I guess you get to call Mom by yourself.”
Lauren’s jaw dropped. “Devlyn!”
Dev lifted her hand. “Honey, what can I do? She’s insisting on this call and I’m going to be in Detroit. I asked the temp to clear my schedule for the call, but clearly she missed it somehow.” Dark eyebrows drew together in consternation. “You know, I don’t think my mom likes talking about the wedding with Michael Oaks.” More than once Devlyn had considered firing her personal aide, turned social secretary, because of his poor people skills. But he was good at what he did and had proven himself time and again, earning her trust, if not her friendship.
“Can you blame her?” Lauren glared at David. “You did this just to get her out of this phone call, didn’t you?”
David blinked slowly. “Would I do something like that?”
Lauren tapped her coffee mug with her fingernail impatiently. “Yes.”
“Okay, I would. But this time, I didn’t. It’s been on her tentative schedule for a couple of weeks.”
Lauren shot them both looks that sent shivers down their spines. “I hate you both.”
“Then solve the problem by telling Mom we’re eloping.” Dev chuckled as she buttered her toast.
“I’d elope with you in a heartbeat, Devlyn,” Lauren shot back. “But there is no way on God’s green earth that I am telling Janet Marlowe that. You’ve heard the Princess Diana speech, haven’t you?”
Dev rolled her eyes. Had she?
“How she watched it on television in the wee hours of the morning, entranced. The dress, the pageantry… blah… blah… blah.”
David grunted in a gesture that Devlyn figured was as close to sympathy as she was going to get from her dear friend. Beth’s mother had talked Beth into powder blue tuxedos for his wedding. The memory of those ruffled sleeves still made him slightly ill. “Thanks for the coffee.” He stood up. “I’ll see you later.”
“Thanks so much, buddy.” Dev threw a wadded-up napkin at her friend as he fled her office. Then she took Lauren’s hand. “I’m sorry you have to do this alone. Mom’s probably peeved that we haven’t talked to her about any of the details yet.” There was no “probably” about it. Dev’s father had warned her a few days ago.
“We don’t know any!”
“I know that,” Dev replied reasonably. “And you know that. Now you just have to tell my mother that. What can I do to make it up to you?”
Lauren sighed as she looked into guilt-ridden eyes. “I’m sorry. I guess your job makes it impossible to make this small and simple, huh?” It was a rhetorical question, but Dev nodded anyway.
Lauren melted under Dev’s gaze. “You’re lucky I’m so in love with you.”
Dev smiled, recognizing Lauren’s surrender. “I know.”
“I’ll try to be more understanding. And I’ll call your mom this afternoon as planned, don’t worry.”
“Thank you,” she said sincerely, knowing that Janet loved Lauren completely and that the younger woman would be subject to far less grief than she herself would.
“But if you want to bring me back a present from
Detroit, I won’t complain.”
“Sure. I can probably get a Chevy in my suitcase.” Devlyn leaned forward and kissed Lauren.
“Devlyn?” she muttered against soft lips.
“Mmm?” Dev kissed her again.
“Make it a red ‘Vette.”
* * *
Lauren looked at the phone on her desk, contemplating the device as she held her head between her hands. Finally she sighed, “Call Janet Marlowe.”
The phone rang three times and then Janet’s hologram appeared. “Hello, sweetheart.” She smiled fondly, the motion creasing the skin around her mouth and eyes. “How is my favorite daughter-in-law-to-be today?”
Lauren’s smile was wan. “Well, I’m here.” She paused, not wanting to deliver the news, but seeing no way around it. “Which is more than I can say for that good for nothing Devlyn.”
Janet glanced around with narrowed eyes. “Lord help me. That girl will be the death of me yet! What has Devil done now? Do I need to come over there?”
Lauren laughed. The image of the President’s mother storming into the White House with a wooden spoon in her hand, ready to strike, was an image she wouldn’t soon forget. If there were one person in the world that could do it, it would be Janet Marlowe. “No, you don’t need to come over. Devlyn had to go to Detroit today. That’s why she’s not here.”
Janet frowned at the look on Lauren’s face. “We’ll manage without her, dear. How much help do you think she was really going to be anyway? And when she ends up wearing a light pink ‘poofy’ dress she won’t be able to say a single word about it. Not one.”
Janet grinned and Lauren’s eyes widened a little. It was an evil little grin that reminded her very much of someone she loved. Oh, boy.
“I’m assuming we have a date to work with.” It wasn’t really a question, but Janet’s tone was more gently prodding than angry.
“That’s the good news.”
Janet waited, but Lauren just looked at her, not saying another word. After a few oddly silent moments Janet said, “Um, dear, usually when someone says there’s good news, that means there’s bad news to go along with it.”
“That is the way it usually goes, isn’t it?” Lauren chewed on her lower lip and girded her mental loins. “The bad news is that we only have six months to put the wedding together. But with Devlyn’s schedule it’s the only good time. I swear,” she blurted out. Six months sounded like plenty of time to her, but Michael Oaks had nearly had a stroke when she told him the date they’d selected. She chuckled inwardly, admitting that that part had been sort of fun.
Janet snorted. “Don’t worry about that. I’ve already gotten calls from every wedding planner on the planet. All we need to do is decide which one to use. Then I’ll have a little more help,” her blue eyes twinkled, “and I won’t have to hurt you and Devlyn, who I just know are going to try and leave all the details to me.”
She’s not angry. Thank God. Lauren felt relief course through her body. “I love you,” she heard herself say. It was as though the words were coming from someone else’s mouth, but as soon as she heard them, she knew they were true. Wow.
Dev’s mother laughed softly and smiled. “I know, honey. I love you, too. Don’t you worry about a thing; these things have a way of working out.” Or not. “Are you going to be home next week so I can come visit and get the ball rolling?”
Lauren’s eyes brightened. “Absolutely. Devlyn will be in and out, but we might be able to corner her for 10 or 15 minutes.”
Janet nodded smartly, the motion bouncing her thick salt and pepper-colored hair. “I’ll make all the arrangements and see you next week.” She gazed intently at the younger woman. “Lauren, I mean it when I say you shouldn’t worry. I know people are making a terrible fuss, and I’m one of them. But things will be all right. You’ll see.”
Lauren felt a lump develop in her throat. “Thanks, Janet. “I wonder if Devlyn knows how lucky she truly is.”
“Of course not!” Janet scoffed. “But don’t worry, honey.” She winked at Lauren. “I’m not above reminding her.”
* * *
Friday, January 21, 2022
DEV SAT IN THE padded lounge chair, watching indulgently as David and Christopher did their best to fend off the splashing of Beth, Ashley, and Aaron. It was a losing battle, but they were having a great time so that’s all that mattered. She glanced over at Lauren, who was sitting near the back wall of the pool area, on the videophone with Wayne, her New York publishing agent. Dev could tell by Lauren’s jerky hand motions and her frequent frowns that something was going on with one of her books. She hoped it wasn’t the biography.
She’s been under too much stress lately, Dev worried silently. Ever since they announced their engagement, the press had been unrelenting, hounding her for interviews, stalking her for photos. This is supposed to be her home, not a trussed-up prison. Tiny lines of tension around Dev’s eyes eased a little when Lauren laughed heartily at something Wayne said, the sweet sound carrying over the children’s squeals of delight.
On Dev’s swimsuit-covered belly sat a stack of papers Liza had given her to review before tomorrow’s 7:30 a.m. meetings with 11 Emancipation Party Governors, who were in Washington for several rounds of party meetings that would last the entire weekend. Today was also David’s birthday. They hadn’t had time to celebrate last year, when the haze of confusion that surrounded her taking office put every other part of their lives on hold for a while. This year, however, she was bound and determined to do something to mark the occasion. And a family swim was just what the doctor ordered.
Gremlin was sitting in his own lounge chair, watching the pool festivities and wearing a pair of sunglasses that Ashley had slipped onto his face. The ugly, white dog with black face and ears was as happy as could be, occasionally turning to Devlyn and giving her a short growl, before turning back to people he apparently preferred. The President found the sight as ridiculous as she did disconcerting. She half-expected the disobedient beast to demand a margarita to go with the bowl of doggy biscuits Christopher had placed within handy reach of the mutt.
A BBQ in the dead of winter, consisting of burgers, hot dogs and grilled chicken breasts, and salads with all the fixings, had been served up buffet style and Lauren, the Marlowes and the McMillians all had slightly bloated bellies as a testament to their appreciation of the feast. The children were running and splashing and screaming. Dev herself felt like rolling over and taking a nap, and she wondered for the hundredth time what it was about food that revved her children up as if they were on speed.
She used the pen in her hand to scratch her temple as she forced herself to at least try and scan the papers in her hands. Only a year ago you were a governor yourself, Dev. Take this seriously. Then, Ashley executed a perfect cannonball into the pool and Dev sighed. Or else get up two hours early and do it then. Decision made, she tucked her papers under her lounge chair and leaned forward, intent on trying her own cannon ball. She was sure she’d be a little rusty, but either way, she was bound to make a helluva splash.
As she passed by the far door, she heard a knock. Dev pulled open the door to see Emma standing there, a stack of towels in hand. “What took you so long, Emma? David and Lauren nearly cleared out all the hot dogs.”
“I’m crushed,” Emma said flatly, though her hazel eyes twinkled.
“I knew you would be.” Dev’s gaze strayed down to the stout woman’s dress. “Where’s your suit?”
Emma smacked Dev’s arm. “You know good and well this body is not going to be seen in a bathing suit.”
“Aww… Emma.” She lowered her voice. “Beth hardly has a perfect figure and she’s in the pool right now.”
Emma glanced at Beth, who had Ashley riding on her shoulders. The George Washington University professor was big-boned and wide-hipped to begin with and on top of that enjoyed good food and better beer. She waded through the water, oblivious to the 35 pounds she needed to lose to look truly good in a swimsuit. Emma
crossed her arms over her ample chest. “That’s all well and good. But I’m not a young woman, Devlyn Marlowe.”
Dev’s eyebrows jumped. She turned her head and cupped her hands around her mouth to yell, “Hey, Beth. Emma says you’re a young woman.”
Beth stopped her path through the shallow end and gave Emma a beaming smile. “Thanks!” she exclaimed happily. “Seems I’m the only one of the women here who could be torn away from work long enough to play. Are you going to fix that, Emma?”
“Not in this lifetime,” Emma answered easily, taking a seat in Dev’s chair. Emma gestured to the children, who were laughing and carrying on with David and Beth in the pool.
Beth shook her head, nearly sending Ashley toppling into the water. “Go get your woman off that darn phone, Dev. It’s Friday night, for God’s sake.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m going,” Dev muttered absently as she indicated that Emma should take her chair. “She gets another five minutes.” This said loud enough so that Lauren could hear her. The younger woman nodded and winked at Dev, telling her silently that she was nearly finished.
Emma plopped down with a groan and gave serious thought to taking her shoes off and showing her feet off to the world. “Everyone will be properly worn out tonight.”
Christopher and Aaron jumped out of the pool and grabbed a pair of super-soaker squirt guns. Then they jumped back in right next to David, drenching him from both sides.
Dev smiled fondly at her boys. “No doubt. They’ve been romping for the last hour.”
“I was talking about David and Beth,” Emma clarified with a grin.
“Oh. Them too.”
David climbed out of the pool and haphazardly ran a towel over his body before dripping his way over to Dev and Emma. He was panting, and his ruddy skin had taken on a reddish glow. “Do those kids ever quit?” He scrubbed his thick rusty-colored hair with the end of his towel.
First Lady Page 3
