Under the Rainbow (The Clay Lion Series Book 4)

by Amalie Jahn

  I nodded and considered the strangeness of my situation – relishing the company of a woman who was not mine to enjoy. I’d known my plan would require getting to know her on a personal level if I was to hope for her father’s endorsement, but I never imagined it would be so simple. Or so enjoyable.

  Without taking time to map out my best course of action, I blurted out the next thought that came into my head. “I was invited to a picnic with some of my friends tomorrow afternoon before the big display in Richmond tomorrow night. Any chance you might like to come along?” I asked, quickly adding, “I’m happy to drive out here to pick you up.”

  Before a reply could escape her lips, her smile gave away her response. In a few short hours it was clear that I’d already won her over. I felt a small pang of remorse but then wondered, as she murmured her acceptance into my ear, how long it would take to win over her father as well.

  Chapter Six

  25 Years Old

  She was smart, as I knew she would be from her highbrow education, but she was more than just knowledgeable. She knew how to read people – how to manipulate them into doing what she wanted. Despite her primness, she won over Landon, Kenna, and Parker on the very first afternoon at the Fourth of July picnic, with her sharp wit and infectious charisma. And as the last firework bloomed and then faded into the heavy summer sky, it became apparent to me that she was seducing me far more effectively than I was seducing her. It was especially obvious when she leaned in close after the sky became quiet and whispered, “I thought it was the fireworks pounding in my chest, but now I realize it’s just my heart from standing so close to you.”

  It had been hard to keep from kissing her after that.

  After our initial weekend together, she quickly infiltrated my day-to-day life, or more realistically, I infiltrated hers. By the end of our first month together, I’d clocked so many miles back and forth to her parents’ house that when I headed out of my street one afternoon to pick up groceries, I went the wrong way, instinctively turning left out of the city instead of right toward the store. And every mile along the way was spent reminding myself she was a means to an end, not a parting gift to take along with me to the present when I finally returned.

  She was making it hard though. So very hard. If only there was something not to like about her.

  On one particularly muggy, Sunday afternoon at the end of July, we sat together in Adirondack chairs on the lawn of her parents’ estate under a sprawling willow, drinking lemonade and discussing our futures. It was a scene directly out of a Victorian novel - a setting in which I’d never imagined myself.

  “There are so many children here who need the solid foundation only a good education can provide. They just don’t realize their potential,” she said, taking a sip from her glass. “I mean, sure, I could’ve stayed up north to teach at one of the schools up there, but those children aren’t as starved for positive role models as the kids down here are. That’s the real reason I came home.”

  I was impressed by her humanitarianism and desire to give back to her own community. “Have you secured a position for the fall,” I asked her.

  “Yes,” she replied. “Just after graduation. I applied to eleven schools and was offered nine positions. I’ll be teaching at Woodeville Elementary in Richmond this fall.”

  I remembered from my research that she would eventually be chosen as teacher-of-the-year for the state of Virginia and wondered if she would still be at Woodeville when the award was bestowed. I’d heard about that particular school on the news, but it wasn’t due to its outstanding test scores. For her to earn that sort of recognition while teaching in such an impoverished neighborhood would be quite an accomplishment.

  “Rough part of town,” was all I said.

  She winked at me. “Wouldn’t be a challenge if the kids could learn without me.”

  Beams of sunlight passed through the overhead branches, dancing across her cheeks, and as the breeze loosened a strand of hair from her braid, I wanted nothing more than to reach out and tuck the tendril behind her ear. Sitting beside her, listening as she revealed her dreams and ambitions, it was agonizing to know I would never have an actual relationship with her in the future. Because when I returned to the present, I’d be returning to Meena.

  Probably.

  Hopefully.

  Meena, who loved living in our simple apartment, didn’t mind eating canned goods and week old produce, and wasn’t embarrassed being seen in my decade-old jalopy. Meena, who loved me, despite the fact I was a miserable failure. I had to keep to my plan here in the past so I could make things better for us in the present.

  And most importantly, keep the promise I made to my mother.

  It’s why I’m here, I reminded myself. I’m not here to fall in love with someone else.

  “Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, when I didn’t respond to her immediately.

  I couldn’t tell her I’d been daydreaming about the woman who already held my heart, so I decided to tell her about my mother instead. “I was just thinking about my mom,” I told her. “She’d like it here.”

  She looked across the manicured lawn, neatly mowed into crisscrossing rows which appeared to stretch on for miles. “It is lovely, isn’t it?” she said. And then she cut her eyes to me. “Tell me about her.”

  My mom - the woman to whom I owed all the good things in my life. She was the reason I was sitting in Weddington’s backyard, relaxing with a woman I had no business falling in love with, and living in a time I no longer belonged. I’d made promises to many people during my life, but the only promise I’d ever broken was to my mom. But of course, I couldn’t say that.

  “My mom raised me on her own. She worked really hard to provide for us, and she did a great job until she got sick when I was in high school. She had to quit her job, and even though the cancer didn’t kill her, the medical bills almost did.”

  A look of understanding spread across her face. “The healthcare reform… it’s because of your mom.”

  I shrugged. “Yeah. Pretty much.”

  She scooched her chair a little closer, getting caught up briefly on a tree root, and then reached out to take my hand.

  “I knew I was right to like you,” she said, regarding me with something akin to reverence. “My instincts are rarely off.”

  I mustered a weak smile but couldn’t respond. If she only knew where our relationship was headed or the sacrifice her heart would be called to make, she would realize her instincts were fallible. It was all I could do to suppress my growing guilt.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed out of nowhere, shaking her head as if coming out of a daze. “I almost forgot to tell you! My father’s invited us both to dinner in DC tomorrow night, and he wanted you to know he’ll be sending a car to pick us up in Richmond around six. And just so you can plan ahead, we’ll be dining at Marcel’s, so you’ll want to wear something nice,” she said, her eyes dancing.

  “Dinner at Marcel’s?” My heart sank, knowing I didn’t have the funds for such an extravagant outing. I made a mental note to check how close I was to exceeding the limit on this month’s credit card statement.

  “Oh, yes! It’s one of my favorites! My father usually knows just about everyone in the room so he’ll probably spend half the night visiting other tables, but the food is to die for and their wine list’s extensive,” she said breathlessly. “Have you been there?”

  “No,” I confessed, looking away, embarrassed by my lack of culture. It was hard enough to admit I hadn’t been to any of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, but worse yet was not having a single contact inside the beltway. I realized in that moment how important it would be to use my time with Weddington not only to secure his endorsement but also his connections.

  “You’re going to love it,” she said, squeezing my hand a little tighter. “And I can’t believe my father invited you to join us. Nothing against you, of course, it’s just that he never invites anyone to Marcel’s.” She winked at me, as
excited for herself as she was for me. “He must really like you.”

  The town car arrived right on time, pulling beside the curb in front of the same address I’d given Vorhees weeks before. The driver emerged from behind the tinted windows and opened the rear door, revealing my date for the evening. As I slid in beside her, my heart skipped a beat. She wore a fitted emerald cocktail dress with tiny diamonds in her earlobes, and I couldn’t help but imagine what it might be like to get her out of the dress.

  As quickly as the thought entered my mind, I forced myself instead to think of Meena.

  I couldn’t allow myself to get attached to a woman who should never be mine.

  She looked at me expectantly, and I realized I hadn’t even said hello. “You look beautiful,” I told her, because I couldn’t think of anything else to say. And also because it was true.

  “Thanks,” she replied. “You look really nice too.”

  I looked down uncomfortably at the best suit I owned, purchased off the clearance rack at Macy’s and hemmed by the lady who lived across the hall from my mom. I smoothed the lapel which I’d attempted rather unsuccessfully to press the night before.

  Despite the disappointment in myself, the short ride into the city was pleasant, and I listened as she told me about the preparations she was making for her classroom.

  “I went to the teacher supply store in town yesterday to buy bulletin board borders and these adorable little fish cut outs. I’m decorating the whole room to look like it’s under the ocean. I even got a beanbag chair that looks like an octopus for the reading nook!”

  I couldn’t keep from getting caught up in her enthusiasm. “You’re going to have a classroom full of the luckiest second graders in Virginia,” I told her.

  “I hope so,” she blushed. “I just pray my training translates to the classroom. Book smarts will only get me so far with the kids. I need to be able to reach them.”

  She was still discussing the used books she’d bought online for her classroom when the driver stopped abruptly in front of Marcel’s. I was immediately reminded of the first dinner out with my mom and Harvey, another engagement I’d felt similarly unprepared to attend. Someday, I thought, I’ll actually belong at a restaurant like this.

  Weddington was waiting for us at a table he must have frequently reserved, as she headed straight to him without any prompting from the maître d’.

  “You look lovely,” he told her, giving her a noticeable once over as he stood to kiss both of her cheeks. “I’m glad you didn’t wear that horrendous peach ensemble you thought was appropriate the last time I requested you meet me for dinner. The only reason I felt comfortable enough to invite you into the city this time is that your mother promised me you’d gotten rid of it.”

  Her ears reddened, and I was embarrassed for her as the waiter pulled out her seat, which she quickly took. “I gave it to Goodwill months ago. I told you I wouldn’t wear it again,” she said quietly into her chest.

  He seemed undisturbed by her discomfort, and without any further discussion, turned his attention to me. “Mr. Johnson, so good to see you tonight. Been having a nice summer?”

  I knew every moment I spent with him was an opportunity to solidify his endorsement, and that it was vital to leave a great impression, not only regarding my political endeavors but also to convince him of my fondness for his daughter. “It’s been a whole lot nicer since we met,” I said, locking eyes with her so he wouldn’t doubt the sincerity of my declaration. The strangest thing was, as I gazed upon the compassion reflected back at me, I suddenly realized just how sincere the admission truly was. I did like her. I actually liked her a lot.

  She was different from Meena in many ways and probably not someone I’d have been drawn to if it hadn’t been for the connection to her father. She was more refined than Meena, probably because of her social standing, which gave her the ability to be philanthropic where Meena simply needed to survive. She was, I recognized for the first time as I sat listening to her giving the waiter her order in French, more suited to the life of a Senator’s wife than Meena would ever be, but she wasn’t someone I could imagine spending my life alongside.

  Instead of mingling about the room the way I thought he might, Weddington was content to remain at the table. He asked about how my campaign was going, and I told him about several debates coming up.

  “If you need any pointers, I’m happy to share some of my debate strategies with you. And you know what?” he asked, pulling at his perfectly manicured beard. “I might be able to make it to the one next month. Maybe we could both come,” he added, glancing at his daughter.

  “I would love that,” I told him, knowing being seen with him would mean a lot for my campaign.

  By the time the main course arrived, I was already on my third glass of wine, and I noticed everyone else’s glasses were being frequently refilled as well. I hoped I would be able to keep my wits about me, especially when following dessert, Weddington ordered a round of after-dinner cocktails. I supposed he didn’t have to worry about how we were all getting home when there were drivers on call.

  As I savored the complex flavors of my Chocolate Cremeux, I was startled by a small group of men who stopped by our table to say hello. I couldn’t believe when Weddington introduced me to his fellow Congressmen as his daughter’s “beau.”

  “Don’t be surprised if you start seeing him around Capitol Hill in the near future,” he told them, smiling broadly. “I think Phil here has a lot of potential. In fact, I’m considering giving an official announcement of my support in his run for city council as early as next week.”

  My breath hitched in my throat, and I laid my fork carefully on my plate so as not to accidentally drop it from my unsteady hand. Did he say what I think he just said?

  I felt a playful squeeze on my knee under the table, and I looked up to see her eyes dancing with joy in the candlelight. Although we had never spoken about it, she knew how much an endorsement from her father would mean to my campaign.

  After the Congressmen said their goodbyes, and the bill was paid by Weddington, at his insistence, I couldn’t help feeling like I’d just won the lottery. I had an amazing woman on my arm, the endorsement I desired, and for the first time in my life, all the pieces were falling into place. And so maybe it was the serenity of the moment or maybe it was just the wine, but when Weddington suggested that we stay in the city for the night, I didn’t object.

  “Why don’t you two head over to the Capella for the night. It’s not far from here – just put the rooms under my name. And then tomorrow, come by my office before lunch and we can put a little something together for the media.”

  I thanked him with great sincerity as we left the crisp, conditioned air of the restaurant and strolled outside into the thick humidity of the summer night. Our town car was already waiting curbside to take us to the hotel, and we waved goodbye to Weddington as he headed off in his own car in the opposite direction.

  The kiss in the privacy of the backseat was immediate. Passionate. Unbridled. Desperate. By the time the driver stopped in front of the hotel, I knew we would not be sleeping in separate rooms.

  We made our way to the second floor, the old-fashioned metal room key as heavy in my pocket as my unique circumstance was in my mind, and I tried to rationalize what was about to happen. If I’d found myself in one of the city’s historic five-star hotels with one of the most amazing women I’d ever met in the original timeline, there would have been no hesitation. But I wasn’t living the original time line. I was living in the past, tethered to Meena who was still living in the present.

  Could it be cheating if I didn’t technically know Meena yet? Surely I couldn’t be held accountable for anything that occurred before I’d even met her.

  And so when her emerald cocktail dress spilled onto the floor, creating a puddle around her ankles, I didn’t tell her no. I couldn’t. She’d provided her father’s endorsement, and I owed her the night. Loving her, if only for a little wh
ile, was the least I could do, and I promised myself, as she laid slumbering in my arms, that I would let her down easy once the election was won.

  And then I would return home to Meena, where I belonged.

  Chapter Seven

  25 Years Old

  I carried the last cardboard box into the tiny office located in the back corner of the city council building and set it beside the brass nameplate on my new desk. The nameplate, a gift from my mother, had arrived the day before with a note of congratulations written in her fluid script. I picked up the envelope to reread the text on the card inside.

  To My Son,

  Congratulations on the first of what I am sure will be a lifetime of wins. May your heart always guide you along your path to greatness. I’m so very proud of you and your success.

  All my love,

  Mom

  Feeling the warmth of her sentiments, I knew that regardless of the consequences, my trip back in time had been worth it. I’d made my mother proud and was on my way to fulfilling my promise to her. I traced the lettering with my fingertip, relishing the moment. I’d done what I came to do.

  And then, my phone buzzed in my pocket as it had done eleven times already that day. I didn’t have to check who was calling. I knew who it was.

  After winning the election I’d continued dating Weddington’s daughter for several more amazing, tumultuous weeks. Gradually, however, I’d begun distancing myself from her in preparation for my return to the present where she and I would no longer be a couple. Where she would go on to be teacher-of-the-year and star performer in someone else’s happily-ever-after.

  What I hadn’t anticipated in all my grand scheming was her reaction to my pulling away. I assumed the strong, self-assured woman I’d come to know would be disappointed but not heartbroken by our breakup. Regrettably, this was not the case.