DUTCH AND GINA: WHAT HE DID FOR LOVE

by Monroe, Mallory

  Jade’s smile suddenly turned into that familiar look of pure hatred. “And I want a divorce from your ass, too!” she shouted. “I don’t want you! This has got nothing to do with you! I don’t give a fuck if---”

  She would have continued her diatribe if her mother had not literally placed a hand over her mouth, as if to remind her that this was not the time to show her true colors. But Christian had already seen those colors. Jade hadn’t really changed at all. She was still that selfish bitch he knew her to be. And although he wouldn’t go back on his word and still planned to ask Dutch what Sam wanted him to ask, he would also mention the flip side, too.

  Dutch sat in a chair near the waterfall on his Newark estate, holding a sleeping Walt in his arms. He was reading, with reading glasses on, a series of action plans Lenora had provided to him on yesterday. Gina had already told him to take it easy and to do absolutely nothing for a while, but that had already become an impossibility.

  Little Walt moved around in his arms and he looked down at his young son. With his beautiful brown skin, and his curly hair, and that beautiful face that Dutch thought was pure perfection, he was going to be a favorite with the ladies. Dutch wanted to smile at the thought of this child in his arms becoming a strapping young man ready to slay the ladies, but it wasn’t something to smile about. Dutch had had too many women in his own lifetime, far too many before Gina, and the wreckage it caused for him wasn’t anything he’d wish on an enemy, let alone on his own beloved son. Gina wanted Little Walt to follow in Dutch’s footsteps, to let Dutch and Dutch alone be his male role model. And Dutch agreed. To a point.

  “But not when it comes to women,” he found himself saying to his son’s sleeping form.

  “Excuse me, Mr. President,” said Franklin Goolsby, Dutch’s house manager, as he approached the president. Dutch looked in his direction.

  “Yes, Franklin?”

  “Mr. Noonan has arrived.”

  Dutch hesitated, as that bastard Marcus Rance flashed through his head. “Take him to my office, Franklin.”

  “Yes, sir,” Franklin said, and headed back toward the house.

  “Well, son,” Dutch said as he closed the folder before him, “vacation’s over.”

  And then he grabbed up his son, and the folder, and headed for the main house, too.

  Once inside, the Nanny staff stood at the ready, with the head Nanny reaching for Walt.

  “He’s staying with me,” Dutch announced, causing the Nanny to back up, and then he and his son headed down the long corridor that led to his home office.

  Dutch entered the office with his baby boy in his arms. Gregory Noonan, a tall, rail thin man with staring blue eyes and thinning gray hair, immediately stood to his feet.

  “Gregory, how are you?” Dutch said as he entered.

  “I’m well, Mr. President,” Greg said with a smile. “How are you?”

  Dutch carried his son to the back sofa and laid him there. He then removed his jacket and placed it over him, and headed back to Greg’s side.

  “Have a seat,” he said as he headed behind his desk. “Did Franklin offer you something to drink?”

  “He did, thank-you.”

  Dutch sat behind his desk and leaned back, crossing his legs. “I take it you have some news.”

  “Yes, sir.” Greg sat erect. “We think we have a good lead on the whereabouts of Marcus Rance.”

  Dutch’s heart began to pound. “Where?”

  “Bolivia of all places.”

  “Bolivia?”

  “Yes, sir. But it’s a general locale. We’re planning to go in and get him as soon as we can positively ID his specific location.”

  “I want him alive.”

  “Understood. Our plan is to bring him back to the States, get him safely tucked away, and then notify you.”

  “Good,” Dutch said. Then he thought about it. “Who’s bankrolling him? How in the world could that broke asshole be in Bolivia?”

  “We haven’t discovered his banker yet. But I’m sure, once we capture him, we will learn it all.”

  Dutch’s heart squeezed at the thought of how Marcus Rance’s booby-trapped scheme nearly took Gina away from him.

  “I want him alive,” Dutch said again.

  “Understood, sir,” Greg replied.

  Later that day, Walt lifted his toy man into the air and then crashed him down on the other toy men he had scattered around the bed. It was all-out war on that bed, and he was fighting every foe.

  His father, on the other hand, was lying on that same bed, his body prone and on top of the covers, barely awake. He loved how Walt could play within himself, without constantly seeking his father’s attention, although he did occasionally ask him to look at this move or that one. But it was a small price to pay for some peace and relaxation.

  Dutch was still amazed at how badly his body seemed to have needed this rest. Ever since his resignation announcement, his body seemed to shut down. The last few months had been emotionally challenging and this change of pace was now fully embraced by him. Although Gina felt that even the little he was doing was still too much.

  “Mom-my!” Little Walt said as soon as he realized Gina was standing at the bedroom entrance. He immediately hurled himself across his father, turned backwards to climb out of the bed, and rushed to his mother’s side. Dutch looked too as he ran up to his mother and she dropped her briefcase and hoisted him into her arms.

  “Hello, boss!” Gina said with a grand smile as she hugged and kissed and smelled the sweet fragrance of her young son. “How have you been all day?”

  “I’ve been good,” Walt said, then thought about it and looked at his father. Dutch nodded with a smile. Walt turned back toward his mother. “I’ve been really good,” he added.

  “That’s wonderful. I knew you would be. I knew you wouldn’t let Mommy down.”

  “Daddy’s down,” Walt said perceptibly and Gina looked past her son to her husband. She had already noticed. The idea that Dutch Harber was lying in bed in the late afternoon was a startling sight. He never laid in bed during the daylight hours unless he was bone tired.

  She walked over to Dutch, with Walt still in her arms, and sat on the side of the bed. “Hey,” she said, and played with Walt’s little hand.

  “Hey yourself,” Dutch said, putting his arm on the side of her thigh. “How did it go?”

  “I’m playing War, Mommy,” Walt interrupted as he began to crawl out of his mother’s arms.

  “You are?”

  “And I’m winning!” he said as he crawled over Dutch and made his way back to his game.

  Gina smiled. “Well, good. Keep up the good work.”

  But by then Walt was back into his game. Gina grabbed Dutch’s hand and looked at him. He looked at her, as their hands were now intertwined together. And then he lifted her on top of him, and pulled her into his arms.

  Little Walt didn’t even look their way as his father began kissing his mother. They weren’t as passionate as they would have been had their son not been there, but they were passionate enough.

  But when they stopped kissing, Gina was still concerned. “We’re expecting company tonight.”

  “I know.”

  “You think you’re up for a dinner party this soon?”

  “I wouldn’t call it a party. Crader and Loretta’s coming over, but Crader’s going to fill me in on what’s been going on, and I’m sure Loretta will do the same for you.”

  “But it’s still people coming over. I can reschedule it and just let you sleep the night away.”

  “No, honey, I’m fine. I just needed this break, that’s all.”

  Gina rubbed her thumb along his lower lip. “You were more exhausted than you thought.”

  “Yes, I think that’s right,” Dutch admitted. “But I’ve gotten plenty of rest today.”

  “You met with the CFO of Harber Industries. I wouldn’t call that getting plenty of rest.”

  “That was a must. I have to get on with my l
ife, and H.I. is a major part of our new life now. When I’m long dead and gone, that company must be healthy because it will be yours.”

  “And then Jade’s,” Gina said and looked intensely at Dutch. She could tell the pain just the mention of her name still elicited in Dutch, which still pained Gina.

  “I’ve made provisions for Jade,” he said, “but she won’t be running any company of mine.” Then he pivoted, which he always did of late when the conversation was about Jade. “And now, Mrs. Harber,” he said as he tightened his grip on her. “You haven’t answered my question.”

  Gina was puzzled. “What question?”

  “I asked you how did it go today?”

  “Oh. You mean before we were rudely interrupted,” she said with a smile as both of them looked at their son. He was too busy playing his game to even notice their look.

  Gina looked back at Dutch. “It was a fantastic day,” she said. “I’m so excited about BBR again. And you should see what Roman’s done. When LaLa and I ran the place we could barely help a hundred people in need of a fresh start, and was overwhelmed even then. But now, thanks to Roman, we’re helping thousands, Dutch, with a staff to handle the workload, too. I was amazed. The sponsors are through the roof and the contributions are staggering. I am so pleased with what he’s done. And he even apologized to the workers he fired.”

  “Did he?”

  “He did, to my shock. It was incredible.”

  “He sounds incredible. He sounds like a regular miracle worker.”

  “And more,” Gina said proudly. “With Roman on my team, I can’t lose,” she proclaimed, and snuggled closer into Dutch’s warm embrace.

  Dutch held her tightly in his arms, as her enthusiasm for Mr. Roman Wilkes wasn’t lost on him. He normally would have been pleased with her enthusiasm. But this wasn’t a normal set of circumstances. Roman Wilkes was in love with his wife. And his wife was excited about working with Roman. That alone curbed Dutch’s enthusiasm.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The vice presidential motorcade drove through the estate gates and then lumbered its way toward the Harber compound. Dutch and Gina stood on the bottom of the steps awaiting the arrival. It was a breezy night in Newark, with an overcast sky and a forecast of rain, but Dutch and Gina both felt rejuvenated.

  After their bed rest, Gina had gotten up to prepare the household staff for their dinner party, while Dutch had grabbed Walt and took a peaceful walk around the grounds. And although Roman Wilkes posed a challenge, and cleaning up the mess at Harber Industries posed one too, he was beginning to feel good about his prospects. He was beginning to feel that there was actually a fulfilling life after politics.

  Although, he would also admit, he wasn’t completely sold yet on the quality of life it was going to be. He’d been in politics for so long, first as a two-term Senator and then as President, that he wasn’t sure if he could handle a routine life anymore. But the one thing he knew for sure: as long as he had Gina and Walt by his side, everything would be alright.

  But they mainly felt rejuvenated because, an hour ago, they received the phone call they’d been waiting for. The storm had lifted over Australia and the plane carrying Benjamin “Birdie” Camp, the Speaker of the House, was in the air and on its way back to the States. It would take 22 hours, but Birdie Camp was expected to land in New Jersey by ten a.m. tomorrow morning. And shortly thereafter, Dutch thought with a smile as large as the lumbering limo approaching him, it would all be official. Crader McKenzie would be president of the United States, and Dutch Harber would be a private citizen again. Free again, he thought.

  Inside the limo, Crader McKenzie, the Vice President of the United States, was leaned against Loretta “LaLa” McKenzie, his wife. It had been a long twenty-four hours. Perhaps the longest of their lives. After Dutch’s decision to step down, everything changed for them. They went from being the back benchers to Dutch and Gina, to commanding center stage. And although they were already being responded to, and treated like President and First Lady, tomorrow morning, after the meeting between Birdie Camp and Dutch, it would all be official. The idea of it was daunting. The idea of it was something Crader still wasn’t sure he could accept.

  The chauffeur opened the backdoor and Crader stepped out. LaLa, per protocol, was assisted out by Secret Service on the opposite side of the limo.

  “Mr. President,” Dutch said as he extended his hand, “welcome to our home.” Crader was a muscularly-built man of average height, with brownish-blond hair and big, blue eyes. He had what the press often called movie star good looks. He also happened to be Dutch’s best friend.

  “Not so fast, Mr. President,” Crader replied, shaking Dutch’s hand. “This shit ain’t settled yet.”

  Dutch laughed as Gina and LaLa embraced.

  “Where’s Nikki?” Gina asked. Nikki McKenzie was Crader and LaLa’s baby girl.

  “Fast asleep. She can’t keep these kind of hours. Where’s Little Walt?”

  “Same, child,” Gina said with a smile. “We won’t let him keep these hours either, although he would love to. Come on in.”

  And they did: Gina and LaLa, and Dutch and Crader. They all sat around the cozy living room, ordered drinks, received their drinks, and then relaxed. Crader and LaLa sat on the sofa side by side, and Dutch sat in the flanking chair with Gina seated on the floor at his feet. She held her glass of wine and was running her finger around its edge. Crader, on the other hand, swirled down his wine with one quick drain, let out a hoop as the heat hit his innards, and then sat the glass on the side table.

  Dutch and Gina looked at each other and smiled. Crader was about as presidential as Honey Boo Boo’s mom. But that, for Dutch, was what was always refreshing about Crader.

  “So,” Crader said as he was about to release a belch that never materialized, “tomorrow is the day. Everything happens tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s the plan,” Dutch said. “Provided there are no more delays.”

  “Can you imagine Birdie in Australia?” Crader asked. “Australia, Dutch? The House is in recess, I understand that, but who spends their recess in Australia? I mean who does that?”

  “Birdie’s devoted like that,” Gina reminded Crader. “That’s why I was pleased when he was elevated to speaker after Jed Bridgeman’s disgraceful exit. Birdie’s respected by everybody, Republicans and Democrats alike.”

  “But Australia, Gina?”

  “Yes, Australia,” Dutch said. “That trade bill comes up for a vote in a few weeks. He wanted to see for himself what the economic impact could mean, not just for the United States, but for small towns in Australia as well. So he decided to use his recess time and not go to his district, but to go to Australia.”

  Crader shook his head. “What a weirdo.”

  “What’s weird about it, Cray? He has no wife, no kids. He’s a free agent.”

  “But he has constituents who expect him to cater to them during recess. If he cares about that small matter called getting reelected.”

  “Birdie doesn’t care about that,” LaLa said and Crader laughed. Women always ran to Birdie’s defense. Crader was sure it had everything to do with the fact that he was a very attractive Speaker of the House, but he let it stand. Crader’s good looks were just as legendary. Only difference between himself and Birdie was that he took full advantage of that status every chance he got. Birdie never did.

  “But you know what’s still amazing to me?” Crader asked. “Those media assholes knew Birdie’s plane was in the air before even me or the president knew.”

  Dutch snorted. “What else is new?”

  “But who feeds them that shit this fast? Certainly not Birdie. That man is a moralist, a saint compared to us.”

  “But that doesn’t make his staff saintly,” Dutch replied. “Not to mention the airport staff in Australia or who knows. You’ll go crazy trying to trace leaks.”

  “DC has taught me that much,” Crader said.

  And then the doorbell rang.


  “Expecting more people?” Crader asked Gina.

  “Yes, Christian’s coming.”

  “Oh, okay,” Crader said, but LaLa’s demeanor physically changed. Gina saw it right away. “Haven’t seen that young man much at all this past month.”

  Franklin appeared from around the foyer and announced that Christian Bale had arrived.

  “Send him through, Franklin,” Gina said.

  When Christian arrived, everybody smiled. LaLa smiled too, although the tension in her face was there.

  They all stood up, welcoming him, with Gina first giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek. LaLa was next, hugging him quickly and then releasing. Christian, too, didn’t linger with her. But then he shook Crader’s hand gustily, and he hugged Dutch with a hug that did linger.

  After the hellos and how are yous were completed, and Christian’s drink order was taken, they all settled back down. Christian ended up on the sofa beside LaLa.

  “You look nice tonight, La,” Christian said and LaLa wanted to die where she sat. Didn’t he realize how difficult their encounters were becoming for her? She never even cheated on her past boyfriends before, but she found a way to cheat on her own husband. And to have the man she cheated with complimenting her and breaking bread with her,, with her husband right there, wasn’t something she could abide. Although Crader knew she had cheated on him, she was reasonably certain that he didn’t know who she had cheated with. But it still felt like rubbing it in his face to her.

  “Thank-you,” she said uncomfortably to him.

  Dutch, however, rescued her. “Where have you been keeping yourself, young man?” he asked.

  Christian stopped gawking at LaLa and turned to Dutch. “I’ve been in DC mostly, sir,” he said.

  “I told you that you’re welcome to remain on the White House staff when Dutch officially steps down,” Crader said.