First Lady

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First Lady Page 15

by Blayne Cooper


  “Judge for yourself.” Mrs. Lynch sniffed haughtily and shook the many-times folded piece of paper.

  Lauren took it and opened it with not a little trepidation. The scrawled letters were large and uneven, though she could see they’d been carefully penned.

  Dear John. I desided you can kiss me like you asked. But only on the cheek. If you still want to circle yes or no.

  --Ashley

  The word yes was circled by a bold heart. Lauren smiled gently when she finished. Oh, Ashley. She re-folded the paper and put it in her pocket, ignoring Mrs. Lynch’s disapproving stare. This didn’t need to go in that permanent record teachers were always talking about. Surely Devlyn would want to keep it. “What seems to be the problem, Mrs. Lynch? This doesn’t seem so horrible. Did they sneak out of class and make out in the coat room or something?” Lauren knew from personal experience that that would get you six weeks' detention.

  Mrs. Lynch’s back went ramrod straight. “Of course not!”

  Lauren’s eyes narrowed, and she felt her pulse pick up as a horrible thought occurred to her. “Is there any reason to believe this is something other than two kids just being kids? John isn’t another teacher or a janitor or something?”

  “Good heavens, no!” Mrs. Lynch looked like she was about to swallow her own tongue. “John is in Ashley’s class. He’s a good boy and excellent student, though Ashley does seem to distract him from his work. It’s not the content of the note that is the problem, Ms. Strayer. That, I assure you, is quite normal.”

  Lauren thought she noticed a slight inflection on the word normal, but let it pass, deciding that calling Ashley’s teacher a bitch wouldn’t make the little girl’s school life any better. “Then what?”

  “It’s what Ashley did after I read it to the class that was highly problematic.”

  Lauren’s face hardened, and her gray eyes glinted with sudden anger. “After you did what?”

  The look on Lauren’s face caused Mrs. Lynch to involuntarily flinch. “I know it seems harsh, but—”

  “You read this in front of everyone?”

  Mrs. Lynch lifted her chin defiantly. “It’s my policy to share notes. It discourages children from passing them.”

  Lauren felt her temper rising fast. “So your policy is to embarrass children as a method of discipline? Do you make slow children wear dunce caps as well? Or do you just brand them with a big D?”

  Mrs. Lynch’s face turned brick red. “I have been teaching in this God forsaken city for 40 years, Ms. Strayer. I have 39 students in my class. I have to keep—”

  “What you have to do is teach these kids and treat them with respect,” Lauren snapped. “Mrs. Lynch,” she ground out, “I’m not a member of the local school board. You can take your complaints about your refrigerator and class sizes to them. I’m here for Ashley. She is who I’m concerned with.” Lauren forced herself to take a slow, deep breath. “What happened after you read the note?”

  Mrs. Lynch licked her lips. “Well… She grew very upset while I was reading it and asked me to stop, which I couldn’t do. If I did it for her I’d have to do it for the other children. Just because she’s the President’s daughter doesn’t mean she gets special treatment.” She looked away briefly before unflinchingly meeting Lauren’s eyes. “Then she began to cry.”

  Lauren’s hands shaped into twin fists. “And,” she prodded in voice far calmer than she felt.

  “And then she called me an inappropriate name.”

  “Was it bitch?”

  Mrs. Lynch gasped. “No!”

  Lauren gave her a false smile. “Go on.”

  “It was,” Mrs. Lynch paused for effect, “‘battle axe.’”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “That’s the big trauma?”

  “She said it in front of the entire class!” Mrs. Lynch defended hotly. “What sort of showing of respect is that? She should be setting an example.”

  “You read her private note to the entire class,” Lauren shot back. “Maybe she’s learning to be respectful from you?” With a grunt, she pried her butt out of the tiny chair and leaned forward until she was nose to nose with the teacher. “I don’t know if it makes you happy to make little girls cry, but I do know this. Lady, you are a battle axe.” She pinned Mrs. Lynch with a fierce glare. “What Ashley did was wrong. What you did was worse.”

  She leaned even closer. “Our conversation today had better not have a negative effect on the way you treat Ashley. She’s a good kid who doesn’t deserve your contempt.” Abruptly, Lauren picked up the folder that contained Ashley’s school papers. “Are we finished?”

  Mrs. Lynch was too stunned to speak.

  “Looks like we are.” Without another word, Lauren strode out of the room, giving the next two waiting parents a grim smile as she passed them. She could see Ashley and Amy waiting on a bench at the end of the hallway, and Brendan quietly fell in step behind her, communicating their location status to the other agents.

  Lauren could see Ashley looked pale and frightened. She stopped in front of the little girl, who refused to meet her stare. “Ashley,” she said quietly.

  Ashley glanced up, her soft brown eyes brimming with tears. “She read it to everyone.” Her voice cracked, and so did Lauren’s heart.

  The blonde woman crouched down and silently opened her arms to Ashley.

  The girl flew into them and began mumbling her apologies between her sobs.

  “Shh… It’s okay.”

  “Every… everybody la… laughed.”

  “I know, sweetie. That wasn’t very nice.” Lauren kissed the top of Ashley’s head and hugged her as tightly as she dared. She let Ashley cry for several moments before she gently pushed her away and wiped wet cheeks with tender fingers. “You know you shouldn’t have been passing notes in school, right?” Intently, she studied Ashley’s face.

  Ashley nodded, relieved that Lauren hadn’t mentioned the note’s content.

  “And that no matter how utterly and completely fitting the name battle axe might be,” she smiled and Ashley let out a surprised burst of laughter, smiling back, “you’re not allowed to say things like that to anyone. Much less a teacher. Even if they deserve it.” Her voice turned serious. “Got me, darlin’?”

  Ashley sniffed and the tension drained from her body, leaving her as limp as dish rag. “Got you. I apologized after I said it.”

  Lauren gazed at her in understanding. “I figured you did.” She gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, then straightened and wrapped her arm around slender shoulders. Okay, so she hadn’t handled the teacher as well as she could have. But she still felt a little proud of herself. Ashley seemed to feel better, and the girl knew she’d done something wrong. So the afternoon wasn’t a complete bust. "Do you want me to talk to your mama about you going to a different class?"

  "No!" The girl looked a little panicky. "I like my class."

  Lauren wasn't surprised. Ashley didn't seem reluctant to attend classes, as she herself had been. "Is Mrs. Lynch a good teacher, Ashley?"

  Ashley thought about that for a second before nodding. "Except when she reads notes out loud," she added sullenly.

  An indulgent smile twitched at the corners of Lauren's lips. "That was pretty rotten." She signed. "Honey, your teacher does a hard job under tough conditions. Maybe she was just having a bad day. I know it seems impossible, but teachers are people too and everyone can have a bad day and make bad choices." She lifted an eyebrow. "Like passing notes in class instead of paying attention." In truth, that was more charitable towards Mrs. Lynch than Lauren wanted to be. But Ashley was a child inclined to forgive easily, and she didn't want to influence that with her own opinion.

  Ashley winced. "I understand. I guess."

  Lauren ruffled the girl's dark hair. "Good."

  “Lauren?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Are you going to tell Mom?”

  Lauren cringed as she thought back to her own harsh words. “I don’t want to.”

  “Yes
!” Ashley pumped her fist in the air.

  The cringe intensified. “But I think I have to.”

  Ashley's face fell, but she didn’t seem surprised.

  They all started for the car and were greeted with a blast of cool air that smelled like wet grass. It was still raining and shallow puddles had formed on the sidewalk, snaking their way into the schoolyard. Two of the agents popped open umbrellas and held them over Lauren and Ashley.

  “Don’t worry, honey,” Lauren said, “before I tell her anything I intend to bribe your mother.” Kisses. Backrubs. Oh, yeah, this could be good.

  Ashley’s face wrinkled in confusion. “For me?”

  Lauren snorted. “Nuh uh. For me. You’ve got that short, adorable kid thing going. I, on the other hand, need all the help I can get.”

  The agents all rolled their eyes and sniggered.

  “What?” Lauren complained, taking off her wet glasses and stuffing them in her blazer pocket. “I do.”

  * * *

  Dev tossed the pen down on her desk and stood up to stretch. Rolling her neck, she decided to take a walk through the plane and see what the press was up to. They were on their way back to Washington after spending two days touring Jefferson County, Kentucky, which had been hit by multiple tornadoes in the past week. The devastation was severe, and Dev had promised federal aid to help the people rebuild their homes and businesses.

  Thinking of home and a hot bath, she wandered to the back of Air Force One and entered the area where the press always traveled. As soon as they realized she was in the room, several of the reporters stood to greet her. She smiled and waved them off. “Relax, everybody. I’m just stretching my legs.” Devlyn was dressed in black slacks and a casual sweater, having discarded her blazer after entering the plane. Taking a seat on a table in the front of the room, she let her hands rest in her lap.

  “That was a good trip, ladies and gentlemen.”

  A round of general murmurs of approval met her words, and she relaxed further into her seat, pleased that things had gone so smoothly.

  “How are the wedding plans, Madam President?” The reporter from the Post continued to twirl the pen in his hand, but made no move to record Devlyn’s words. The atmosphere with the press on Air Force One was decidedly casual, with a certain level of mutual trust and respect between all the parties.

  Devlyn laughed and bit her lip. “I’m not sure my mother is speaking to me at the moment. I haven’t been around much lately and I haven’t given her or my social secretary as much input as they would like. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it,” blue eyes twinkled, “most of my participation has been via telephone and email.”

  A woman in the back lifted her camera high over her head, and Dev gave her a quick nod. Permission granted to take photos.

  “Actually, Michael Oaks and my mom are working very hard to make sure things go off without a hitch. I’m a little worried though, because Secretary Oaks came into my office the other day and asked Lauren and me, ‘blue or white?’ That was it, nothing else, and he didn’t say what I was giving my opinion on.”

  “You could have asked,” a press corps member reminded her wryly.

  “I could have,” Dev agreed, saying nothing more.

  “So what color did you select?”

  “I said blue.”

  “And Ms. Strayer?”

  “She looked up from her laptop and grunted what I assumed to be her agreement. Sometimes she gets a little engrossed in her work. I can’t imagine how that could happen.”

  This time Devlyn joined in the laughter. “I may have agreed to something totally hideous.” She adjusted at the table and got more comfortable. “Keep your fingers crossed for me.”

  “Madam President, getting information about the wedding has been darn near impossible.”

  “You don’t say?” Dev answered wryly.

  “Is there anything you can tell us?”

  “C’mon, Madam President,” another reporter joined in. “Throw a wild pack of dogs a bone.”

  Dev thought for a moment, then nodded. “I can tell you that the wedding will be a small ceremony held in Ohio with our family and friends. A few members of the press will be invited to the reception, sans cameras….”

  There was a chorus of groans.

  “But the ceremony will be private.” Dev nearly laughed at the devastated looks on their faces. “Don’t worry, when Lauren and I get back from our honeymoon, we’ll host a formal reception at the White House. It should be a grand event, and cameras, and all of you, will be welcome.”

  Dev's expression went serious. “As most of you know, Lauren is an extremely private woman, who is still adjusting to life in the public eye. But even if she were used to all the hounding, it wouldn’t matter. Our wedding is something just for us that we want to share with the people we love. I hope you can all respect that.”

  “How do your children feel about this?”

  An involuntary smile crossed Dev's face. “My children are ecstatic. They love Lauren, as does my entire family. As a matter of fact, Lauren has already attended her first parent/teacher conference, while I was stuck in Chicago.”

  Devlyn remembered how nervous Lauren had been when she explained what happened at the parent/teacher conference. The blonde woman had waited until Dev was nearly asleep and had been buttered up to the max before spilling the beans. Dev hated having to punish Ashley, but the look on her daughter’s face when she told her that her next month’s allowance would be donated to the charity of her choice, assured Dev she was doing the right thing. Ashley would hold her tongue next time. Or, as Lauren pointed out, be really, really poor.

  Devlyn still wasn't quite sure why Lauren used her last three weeks' poker winnings to buy a used refrigerator and have it sent to Ashley's school. She silently vowed to ask more about that later.

  “Have you considered running for a second term?”

  The question brought Dev out of her musings. “I’ve been considering it, but before I make a firm decision, there’s a lot I need to discuss with my family and my advisors.”

  “Where are you going on your honeymoon?”

  Dev was used to the ping-ponging of questions from topic to topic, and she easily rolled with the punches. “I have no idea. The honeymoon is Lauren’s wedding gift to me, and it’s a surprise.”

  “Is it hard to keep a surprise from you?”

  Devlyn rolled her eyes. “You’d think it would be, wouldn’t you? But I can assure you she and my chief of staff are managing quite nicely. As President, most of the surprises I get aren’t that pleasant, so this will be a very nice change of pace. I’m just holding my breath and hoping that we’ll get two weeks together that aren't interrupted by anything big.” She blinked as she thought about what she’d said. Then she reached over to the table and knocked on it twice. “You don’t need to print that last statement; let’s not tempt fate and give the nuts any ideas.”

  “Will Ms. Strayer assume the typical duties associated with being First Lady?”

  “That will be up to Lauren. I do know that she has hired Beth McMillian as her chief of staff. I think she and David McMillian will be the first husband and wife team in history acting as chiefs of staff. ”

  “Madam President, just about everything associated with your presidency is a first.”

  Dev smiled. “True enough.”

  “Will Ms. Strayer be taking the name Marlowe?”

  Devlyn was careful to keep her expression neutral when she answered this question. Samantha had eagerly taken her name. Dev knew she was being silly and that her ego was rearing its sometimes-inflated head, but the fact that Lauren wanted to keep her name had stung a little. It wasn’t until Lauren teasingly suggested that they could solve the problem by Devlyn and the children taking the name Strayer that Devlyn realized how silly she was being. “No, she’ll be keeping her name. As will I.”

  “Isn’t it traditional for the wife—” The man stopped mid-sentence, clampin
g his jaw down hard as he felt his face heat

  “The wife to take her husband’s name?” Devlyn finished gently, feeling sorry for the man and hoping that the other reporters would have mercy on him and not quote him. “I believe it is. Though it’s increasingly rare. However, since there will be no husband in this marriage, we’ll be making our traditions, don’t you think?”

  The man nodded, grateful, Dev had taken his stupid comment in her stride.

  “It’s a brave new world, people. Let’s not chicken out now.” She clapped her hands together. “Enough business. Who wants to play cards?”

  * * *

  Friday, May 20, 2022

  DEV WAS LOOKING forward to calling it a day and grabbing a shower before the party. It wasn’t being called a bachelor or bachelorette party, it was just “The President’s party” and Lauren’s was just hers. The children had indignantly demanded their own when they found out they weren't invited to the others. And their mother had eagerly complied. By necessity and protocol, her children were excluded from 99% of the social events at the White House. When an opportunity arose for them to have their own fun, she never begrudged it.

  She couldn’t help but grin as she recalled Ashley saying, in a slightly miffed voice, “Fine, be that way, but don’t be surprised if I don’t invite you to my party.” When Dev inquired about what party that might be, she was told it would be held in the family room, involve Sorry, Junior Monopoly, cartoons, all the popcorn you could eat, and was “invitation only.” Dev wondered if the children's party might not turn out better than the one David was planning for her.

  Dev pushed away from her desk and slowly padded back to the residence. Liza trailed after her, quickly informing her of the next day's appointments, and a bevy of Secret Service and various other aides clustered around her. By the time she turned the corridor for the Presidential apartment, the Secret Service agents had taken their posts at the ends of the hallway, and she was allowed to walk the rest of the way alone. She sighed happily, already plotting the quick removal of her pantyhose and the heart-stopping kiss she wanted to give Lauren.

 

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