The Senator's Choice

by Combs, Sasha

  The Senator’s Choice

  by

  Sasha Combs

  Copyright © 2011 Lori Turner

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  The Senator’s Choice

  Senator William Hudson’s popularity has made him a favorite at home and in Washington. With so many opportunities, it’s no wonder he barely has time to spend with his family. Yet, when tragedy strikes without warning, William is forced to come to terms with his loss. Without asking, he finds himself surrounded by well meaning family and friends. However, no one was more welcomed than his good friends, LaShawn, Michael and Pamela Dawson.

  Instead of returning home with LaShawn and Michael after the funeral; Pamela remains behind to comfort William. During their time together, William’s friendship with Pamela blossoms into something more and neither knows how to break this news to their families. You see...William and Michael have been best friends for over twenty years and Pamela Dawson is Michael’s twenty-three year old daughter.

  In the end, with their secret uncovered; William and Pamela are faced with their toughest challenge. Will their love stand the litmus test and will they prove themselves strong enough to overcome scrutiny? With doubts in their minds, it is their shared moments of passion that fuels confidence in their relationship.

  The Senator’s Choice. A touching love story and a reminder that love doesn't come without a cost.

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  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. ISBN: 78-1-257-03508-3

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid.

  Copyright © 2011 Lori Turner

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  Prologue

  A log in the fireplace broke in half, spewing sparks and wood chips in the flames like a pyrotechnic display. The embers glowed beneath the blazing pile, gaining little notice in the library. The atmosphere in the room was tranquil; serene in an eerie sort of way. Yet the surroundings and the background noise created by the fireplace didn’t appear to register nor did the magnificent light show receive any praise. It all went completely unnoticed by him. On this day, sorrow had consumed William Hudson and anything linked to this dreary emotion held within it the power to overtake him completely.

  To bury ones spouse could hardly be imagined, yet this had been his burden on this day. The act that no person looks forward to, nor should they when the person dying had once been vibrant and young.

  William had replayed the past two weeks in his brain countless times; reliving the events with each recollection. Whenever he did this, he knew the memory would remain the same yet he found it to difficult not trying to make sense of his pain. He needed to understand why his life had come crashing down with one fatal blow. The strike had not been anticipated, even so when it struck, there was no reprieve, no second chances nor possibilities to undo what had gone wrong. When faced with the finality of death, there is no room for any repeats; no prospects for renewal.

  Eight days ago, William’s wife, Bianca had checked into the hospital for test, only to be told that she had less than two weeks to settle her affairs. The doctors had not been wrong about the diagnosis. The elusive genetic disease that randomly skipped entire generations had been detected. The subtle signs that she’d noticed were so obscure, she’d told William not to worry because the symptoms didn’t seem to be life threatening. After several conversations, then finally giving in to his wife’s suggestions, William had returned to Washington due to urgent senate meetings. He had wanted to be with his wife when she went in for her test, but Bianca had made him believe adjusting his schedule would be foolish. During their years as a couple, she had made a number of trips to hospitals or clinics, involving random test. On some occasions, when her doctor would slate her for an outpatient procedure, Bianca would rely on her parents support; certain that this would appease her husbands concerns. After all, she would remind herself, William was a United States Senator, and she never expected her husband to alter his life for her sake and this hospital visit was no different from any of those other days. At least that’s what Bianca had led him to believe.

  On the day that she drove herself to the hospital for her test, it was then that she’d come to realize her passive attitude was ill-suited for the seriousness of the doctor’s tone. Before she’d gathered her senses and called William; Bianca’s brain had toiled over the technical jargon that had been used to describe her dire predicament. Her brain had collapsed due to the strain and the long range implications her early demise would create. When she shared the report with William, he too stood stunned; hardly able to believe or comprehend the news. Even though the doctor had recognized the genetic makers for the disease, the timetable for her final moments had been off by more than a few days. When Bianca came home, the disease rapidly ripped away at her body; depleting her of the simplest body functions. It had not taken the disease fourteen days to claim her life like Dr. Rosenthal had predicted. Bianca Hudson had lived for six days, then her body finally gave up the fight; releasing her soul to heaven. On that day, William had been with her, while their twelve year old daughter lay sleeping with her grandparents in another part of their home. Seeing her mother rapidly wither away had become to much for their young child. So much so, that on the third day, after Bianca had received her diagnosis; their daughter Morgan had stopped coming to her mother’s room altogether. She couldn’t handle seeing the rapid deterioration of her mom. A person, who by all accounts had been as active as most mothers her age. Even more so when you count the activities that were done when no one was watching. Bianca never seemed to tire, and she didn’t look her age. Yet, with the disease rapidly tearing away at her mothers body, the young child couldn’t see the images her brain tried to recall. The visions that she’d once imprinted in her mind were disappearing as quickly as her mom. In the gloom of her despair, Morgan’s hopes had been dashed because producing these memories had been to difficult. Her attempts had caused her eyes to grow heavy with tears. She would aimlessly walk around her parents bedroom, looking for a way to ease her mothers discomfort, yet the reality was that there was no relief to be had or given. Even Bianca had come to realize this. William tried his best to calm his daughter, so did Bianca when she could but there was little they could do. The disease was in control, not them. William had seen the signs. He knew his daughter well and he’d witnessed the moment when her threshold had been met. It wasn’t that she didn’t love her mother because he knew that theirs was a special bond. The truth in this situation was that Morgan found witnessing her mother dying each day too much to bear and he’d imagined it was. No child should have to see their parent slip away. Not the way Bianca had. He’d resolved not to force his daughter to witness the event, even though he feared one day she might regret a choice that she wouldn’t be able to change.

  Looking at his wristwatch, William knew at some point he would have to withdrawn from his sanctum. As a United States Senator, the news of his wife’s death had been highly publicized. No one in his family had been given time to privately grieve the way they would have preferred. The moment the press had become aware of his Bianca’s illness; reporters began calling and camping out beyond the limits
of his gated home. He’d been mortified when Morgan finally had arrived. She’d been away at her boarding school. The limousine had been forced to drive through a crowd of camera crews, trucks with satellite dishes, reporters tapping on her passenger window requesting that she make a statement about the surprise of her mother’s illness. The entire ordeal had been monstrous, yet Morgan had surprised him by acting years older than her age. When she finally walked inside of the house, her bright eyes were lit with encouragement for her father. She’d been strong on the first day of her arrival. The slow decline didn’t occur until she began spending time alone with her mother. William still had not learned the name of the person responsible for leaking the news to the press so quickly. He was certain the person or people involved had to work at the hospital were the diagnosis had been made but with no proof, he saw no need to pursue the matter any further than his wandering speculations. None of his family or friends would ever betray them in such an awful way. Everyone had been wonderful, helping out wherever they could. His parents spent most of their time consoling Bianca’s parents and Morgan, while William’s best friend and old college roommate, Michael Dawson, served as his bedrock. William didn’t know what he would have done without Michael and his family. When Michael and his wife LaShawn walked into his home, without asking, they began the task of planning the funeral arrangements. LaShawn notified family members who’d not learned about Bianca’s death while Michael handled the press and legal matters. Over the years, William had accumulated many friends but none were like his best friends Michael and LaShawn. Even now, while William stowed away in this quiet part of his home, his best friend since their days at Harvard, along with his wife, were being gracious host to the funeral guest roaming in his home. William couldn’t bring himself to emerge from the room. He’d heard enough condolences to last him a life time. As his stubborn desire to remain hidden compelled him not to move; William could feel the responsibility of his role crowding in on him. The ache that wouldn’t allow him to sneak off, taking his daughter away from the mourning well wishers. This thought challenged his desire to behave in a sensible manner. He felt compelled to do the right thing.

  The very second he’d concluded how best to deal with his temptations, a tap on the library door startled him from his musing. He placed his feelings on hold, while gathering stray ideas that lingered. The truth of the matter was that he’d already made up his mind to return to the crowd of people. It had been thoughts of Michael that made him come to this decision. Over the many years of their acquaintance, William had always admired the Christian upbringing that had grounded his good friend. William had not been raised by heathens; on the contrary, the exact opposite could be said. His parents were firm and true to their Episcopalian roots. But their sometimey attitude towards their religion had rubbed off on him. He wasn’t devoted to his belief system like his good friend was and sometimes this troubled William. With his friend, church wasn’t an afterthought. Michael lived from a moral code with roots strongly grounded in the Bible. As his mind glossed over his friends obvious past shortcomings, he admitted to himself that Michael was no saint. He didn’t want to get caught in a trap whereby he was canonizing his friend to sainthood. Even Michael would see the folly in this.

  When they first met as freshmen at Harvard, Michael cussed like a sailor. He was a womanizer and he placated his girlfriends with false promises, knowing full well the harm his lies would foster. But over time, as he grew older, William noticed Michael as he changed, returning to a values system put in place by his loving parents. William had been thinking about the first time he’d met Michael; their trips to Atlanta, and the first time he had his fill of the best southern fried chicken in his life. In truth, the mother of his best friend had prepared his first real southern meal. They were alike in so many ways, yet their obvious differences never seemed to matter to either of them. They were brothers, inside and out; that part of their relationship had never changed for over twenty years and William imagined it never would.

  With his mind in a better place now, William looked up to see who’d entered the room. The smile that met his face, oozed a warm feeling throughout his entire body. He couldn’t have been happier to see his best friends daughter. Just like LaShawn and Michael; Pamela’s presence warmed his heart in a way that no one else could.

  “Can I get you something William? There’s plenty of food in the kitchen. I can make you a plate, if you’re hungry.”

  Pamela Dawson stood looking at William only a few feet from the doors entrance. She wore a simple black dress that defied the rules because the frock didn’t look simple on her body. Every inch of the fabric clung to her as if the threads were tailored to perform a specific task. Her youthful color and flawless brown skin begged to be touched. There was no other way to describe this impression. All the same he washed away the thought, attempting to see her with a different set of eyes.

  William’s glance was just an observation, not a sexual appraisal driven by wonton desires. Until recently, he’d always thought of his best friends daughter as cute; that is until the years speedily passed by, allowing her to grow up on him. Pamela’s beauty was unique and alluring, just enough to drive her father insane with worry. He’d watched amused, as Michael tormented her suitors, frightening them away. All the while, silently, he’d been glad that his friend was an over protective father. Pamela always made heads turn whenever she entered a room. As a man, he wasn’t blind to the trappings that made up her body. However, oddly he wasn’t looking at her in that way. Not today...but her beauty did ease the sting caused by what he knew he had to do.

  Straightening in his chair while he looked at her, William’s voice could barely be heard over the rooms silence. His words seemed to be overtaken by the libraries large space.

  “No thank you Pamela. I’m not hungry. Did your dad send you to find me?”

  Pamela stepped away from the door, entering the room. When she stood looking at the comfortable place he’d chosen for its silence, she lowered herself to be seated in the chair closest to him. In a gesture that wasn’t primping or flirtatious, she moved a stray curl from her eye, placing the strand behind her ear. Leaning in to him as she talked, William detected her efforts not to stress him. He appreciated this but the tiptoeing behavior had been the reason he’d sought out quiet in his home. It was odd, but he wanted his life to feel normal again. As normal as it could, given the circumstances.

  Pamela’s soft voice was just as tender as the hand she’d positioned on the edge of his knee. He couldn’t help but notice her long feminine fingers and her well manicured nails. The final touches of a well bred woman, he’d thought heedlessly to himself.

  “William, I’m here if you need anything. I want you to feel comfortable asking me to do whatever you want or might need. I’m available just like my parents are. Please...let me help...if I can.”

  A tight smile met his lips. She was so like her father, wanting to be a good friend. He lay his hand to rest on top of hers. Their shared warmth was magnified making them feel tender heat from this touch.

  “You are helping Pamela, simply by being here. You have no idea how much your presence helps me.”

  “I’m glad. You know...we can stay here as long as you think you’ll need us. Mom and dad are handling your guest just fine without you. I don’t mean that you’re not being missed.”

  Pamela quickly amended her statement, causing William to unexpectedly laugh. The tight grin had been the first in days, since learning of his wife’s illness.

  Looking at Pamela, William realized she’d been at his home this week more than she’d ever visited in the past. At least, consecutive days. He wondered if her calming presence had anything to do with him being able to get out of bed in the morning to face his daughter. Surely, this notion wasn’t something made up or crafted in the fabric of his daydreaming. In truth, Pamela had been instrumental in a number of ways. Even though she was ten years Morgan’s senior, he’d witnessed how well Pamela had man
aged his daughter when his parents found themselves busy with other task. There were no words he could say to express his thanks. So instead of stumbling over meaningless tributes or stock phrases that didn’t fully encapsulate his feelings, instead he chose to speak from his heart.

  “Pam...thanks for all that you’ve done. You’ve been a jewel. Not even my parents have been as helpful as you. While Michael and LaShawn have been helping out with the arrangements, you’ve been here at the house picking up the slack wherever its been needed. I didn’t realize that until now and I really want to thank you for everything that you’ve done.”

  William’s hold had tightened on her hand, squeezing in a gentle way.

  Pamela blushed because as a young girl, she’d had crushes on her dads male friends but there was always something extra special about William. As a young woman, she still found it hard not showing emotions in the same way she did when she was a little girl.

  William noticed her cheeks when the blush wasn’t the only color on her face. He’d not meant to spark this emotion but knowing that she still had a schoolgirl crush on him had softened his heart in a sweet way. Leaning forward in his chair, William kissed Pamela on the side of her face. The gesture was innocent. Nothing sexual could be detected in his show of affection but Pamela couldn’t help how the kiss made her feel. Warm budding sensations surged throughout her body, ending in cooling chills.

  When William pulled back to reposition in his chair; his cool blue eyes studied her, watching until she responded. As his gaze danced across her face, lost in quiet reflection; on the outside to William, Pamela appeared to be calm and patiently waiting while chill bumps peaked on the surface of her skin. Her heart hammered like a loud drum, steady and pounding, yet Pamela was surprised how well she controlled her expressions. No hints from her body betrayed how the kiss had truly made her feel.