Hot flash my ass, Jonathan thought. Sarah had told him about their mom’s dinner date in Canada, and Jonathan wasn’t a fan of the idea. She suffered enough when Dad left. She doesn’t need to deal with heartbreak again. “You’ve been having hot flashes a lot lately,” he said, “ever since you got back from the G7.”
“I’m sure it’s a coincidence, honey.”
Jonathan decided that now was the moment to press the issue. She doesn’t need another man in her life. She has me.
Jonathan pushed aside his bowl of cereal and leaned forward. “Speaking of the G7 conference, you said you knew the British Chancellor in college. Right?”
“We went to business school together.”
“And you were friends?”
Rebecca nodded and scrolled through her cell phone, trying to get Jonathan to drop the subject. “We were. I would say we still are. Good friends.”
“How good?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean . . . how good? Like you hung out in groups? Or friends with benefits or . . . ”
Rebecca held up her hand to silence her son. “First of all, ‘friends with benefits’ was not a thing when I was in school. People went on real dates, not in a group, and we had real conversations using our voices instead of Snapchat. To ‘swipe’ something meant to steal it, not to accept or reject for a hookup.”
“Okay, Mom, I get it. You’re old. But you’re not answering me.”
“Drop the attitude, young man. Now.”
Jonathan sighed and sat back in his chair. After a few minutes, he ventured another question. “So . . . was he a friend who was a boy or was he a boyfriend?”
A slight smile creased his mom’s face. “A friend who was a boy.”
“Nothing ever happened?”
“No.”
Rebecca had grown so accustomed to telling the lie that at times she forgot it wasn’t the truth. You call that nothing? she asked herself, her mind flashing back first to Canada, and then even further. To nights spent sharing each other’s deepest secrets. Long runs along the banks of the Charles River. Intimate, too-close dances at holiday galas. And the one night – graduation night – when she and Richard could be who they wanted to be for a brief moment in time.
“Mom?”
Jonathan’s voice jarred Rebecca’s thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“I said that sometimes it seems like there was more. I mean, Sarah said he couldn’t keep his eyes off you in Canada.”
Rebecca shook her head. “I doubt he was staring the entire time. We hadn’t seen each other in years, so anything your sister thought she saw was just the by-product of two friends reuniting.”
Jonathan nodded. “Good. Friends are good.”
SEVENTY-SIX
At 10:00am the next morning, Rebecca’s cell phone buzzed.
Good morning, Madam Secretary!
Buzz buzz.
How’d you sleep?
What are you and your kids doing for the August recess?
Rebecca smiled as she read the messages. She was starting to expect her daily calls or texts from Richard. A part of her knew she shouldn’t – expectations lead to hopes and hopes lead to heartache – but she couldn’t help getting a little excited as the clock struck 10:00. Richard was consistent with it every morning since they got back from Canada, and it had become the favorite part of her day.
Good morning to you! No plans right now for August. Maybe just being tourists in DC when everybody else leaves town.
Rebecca was looking forward to a few weeks of quiet. With Congress out of session and much of the government in vacation mode, Rebecca would have a chance to explore her new home.
Buzz. Buzz Buzz. Buzz.
Why don’t you come visit?
We’ll go to my family’s estate in the country.
It’s quiet. Private. Lots of good food and wine and relaxing.
Plus, Gus will be there.
Rebecca smiled. How could I say no to Gus?
Let me check with my kids.
****
Two months later, Rebecca, Sarah, and Jonathan touched down at Heathrow Airport in London. A middle-aged man named Charlie met them at baggage claim and introduced himself as the Estate Manager at Rosewood.
“I’ve been with the Arrington family my whole life,” he said, loading their bags into a black Range Rover with a small, gold logo on the door. “And my parents before me. The current Lord Dublinshire is great . . . but you already know that! His dad, may he rest in peace, was of a different sort altogether. But the granddad was a true gentleman. And the grandmum? Oooh boy she was fun!”
Rebecca and her kids looked at each other and laughed, bemused by their driver’s accent and gossip.
“What’s that logo on the door?” Sarah asked as the group of four drove out of the airport and onto the M25 motorway. “The gold thing?”
“Ah, the coat of arms, miss. The Arringtons are one of the oldest families in the country. One of the few remaining inherited titles. His Lordship was in the House of Lords for a short time before he left to run for an elected seat.
“It’ll take a little while to get to Rosewood,” Charlie continued. “But you’ll love it. Most beautiful place on Earth.”
While Rebecca and Sarah looked out the car windows and took in the scenery, Jonathan stared at his cell phone. He scrolled through Instagram and tried to ignore the other passengers’ happy conversation.
At twenty-four years old, Jonathan graduated from Columbia that spring and was starting business school at Harvard in the fall. Built like Rebecca’s dad rather than his own father, Jonathan was six feet tall with blue eyes and brown hair. He was a point guard in basketball in high school, and he followed in his father’s footsteps to enroll at the University of Georgia for his freshman year. He had wanted to see what a Southern college experience was all about, but quickly found himself a fish out of water. He transferred to Columbia for his final three years.
Jonathan could tell that something was going on between his mom and this British dude, Richard. I don’t like it, he thought, huffing in disapproval. The only reason Jonathan came on the trip was to figure out what was going on and protect his mother. After the hell Dad put her through, I’m not going to let anyone else hurt her.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
An hour and a half later, Charlie turned their SUV off a small-town road and onto a long, winding driveway.
“We’re on the estate now,” he said. “Another mile or so before we reach the big house.”
The three American passengers looked out their windows. Acres upon acres of grass and trees stretched out around them. Halfway down the driveway, Charlie pulled to a stop at a security gate.
“Didn’t use to have this. But ever since Lord Dublinshire became Chancellor, we’ve had to make some changes.” Their driver rolled down his window and spoke to the guard. “I’ve got His Lordship’s guests with me, Billy. Here for the week.”
Billy looked in the car, nodded his head, and waved them through.
Just past the gate, the asphalt drive turned into brown sand and gravel. A wide path led them in a straight line toward the main house. After passing through a batch of trees, Rosewood came into view.
“Holy shit,” Jonathan said.
Rebecca nodded her head in agreement. She looked up the estate before their visit, but pictures didn’t do it justice. The enormous main house was more like a palace, built in a half-H shape with Corinthian pilasters decorating the front. Originally made of brick, the exterior had been covered with mathematical tiles hundreds of years earlier. A beautiful, formal French garden surrounded the home, and several additional buildings dotted the landscape nearby.
As the Lewis-Bailey clan got out of the car, Rosewood’s front door swung open and Richard came striding out. His chocolate lab, Gus, trotted alongside him. Wearing blue jeans and a sweater, with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, Lord Dublinshire looked every bit the country gentleman. Sarah barely recognized
him not in a suit, but Rebecca walked forward and gave him a hug. Then she bent down and rubbed Gus’ ears.
Jonathan raised his eyebrows and looked back and forth between his mom and sister. Sarah shrugged her shoulders in response. “Give him a chance,” she whispered.
“Kids, come say hello.” Rebecca waved them forward with her arm.
“Welcome to Rosewood,” Richard said with a smile. “I cannot tell you how happy Gus and I are to have you here. Come in. I’ll give you a tour.”
Rebecca stepped inside the house and her jaw dropped. She spun in a slow circle, taking in the grand hall. The large, open atrium was almost the length of a football field and was two stories tall, with an ornate balustrade protecting the upstairs walkway. Both floors were decorated with massive paintings of what Rebecca assumed were Richard’s family members. Arched doorways in the far corners of the first floor led to other areas of the home, but the pièce de resistance was the staircase. Framed by the same balustrade that ran along the second-floor corridor, the oversized stairs stretched out along the entire back third of the room. Rebecca guessed that each step could hold at least six people side-by-side.
“Wow,” she said. Rebecca looked over at Richard and saw him watching her. “This is beautiful,” she told him.
“If I had a house like this, I would never leave!” Sarah exclaimed.
Richard smiled. “It is nice, but my work is in London.”
“You must come here all the time, though. Right?” Sarah asked. “Like every weekend you can?”
“Not really. I went away to school when I was a kid, and I only came back on breaks. I used to drive out once a month to have lunch with my mum, but ever since she passed I don’t even do that.”
“You have this huge, gorgeous house and nobody lives here?” asked Jonathan.
“Some of the staff live on property.” Richard shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s a big house. Gets kind of lonely, I guess, when you don’t have anyone to share it with. Aside from this fella, of course.” He patted Gus on the head. “He loves it out here. I had him trained by our game warden when he was a puppy, so he chases after all the rabbits on the estate.”
“Have you ever taken him on a real hunt?” asked Jonathan.
“No, he’s gun shy. Isn’t that right, big fella? Yeah, you like to think you’re tough, but in reality you’re a big baby.” Gus looked up at his owner with what appeared to be a smile, and everyone laughed. “Damn dog is too smart for his own good.”
“This house, though,” Jonathan said, “don’t tell me you didn’t throw some epic parties here during college.”
“Epic parties? Yes. But mostly in London.” Richard paused. “Once, when I was a boy, my parents went on a trip. I don’t remember where. My grandfather had passed away and my grandmother lived in the big house with us. She said the dowager house was too drafty. But anyway, my parents were away and the nanny was sick, so my grandmother was watching us.
“Abuela was Spanish. And feisty. Not at all a proper English noblewoman,” Richard said. “As soon as the household staff retired for the night, Abuela told us to get our mattresses from our beds. We slid and surfed and raced down this staircase for hours.” He laughed. “To this day, I can’t think of a time when I had that much fun.”
“Not even on the obstacle course with Mom?” Sarah asked.
Rebecca’s eyes grew wide and she shot a look at Richard. How does she know about that? she questioned silently.
He shrugged his shoulders and grinned.
“Not even on the obstacle course,” Richard replied. “Although that was close. I was a bit too drunk and definitely too distracted that night.”
“What are you talking about?” Jonathan asked.
“When Richard and I were in business school, we attended a big fancy dance called the HBS LiveAid. Afterward, a group of us were walking around town – ”
“In our dinner clothes,” Richard added.
“Yes, in tuxedos and ball gowns, and we came across an obstacle course. Being young and drunk and stupid, we decided it would be fun to run the course in our evening wear.”
Jonathan shook his head. “No way. You?” he asked, looking at his mom. “There’s no way you crawled under a net in a ball gown.”
“It’s true. I did.”
Richard put his arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and smiled. “Your mum was quite the adventurous lady back in the day.”
Rebecca’s cheeks blushed, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by her children. Shaking loose from Richard’s embrace, she said: “what’s next on the tour?”
“Well, if you go to the top of the stairs there, I believe you’ll find some mattresses.”
Sarah’s eyes lit up. “For real? Come on, Jonathan.”
When the kids were out of earshot and busy selecting mattresses, Richard stepped closer to Rebecca, this time sliding his arm around her waist.
“She’s you,” he said. “That spirit, that smile. She’s exactly how you were at that age.”
Rebecca sighed. “I know. I love it, and yet – ”
“Yet what?”
“It scares me.”
“Why?”
Rebecca opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by Jonathan calling her name.
“Lookout below!”
Her son jumped head-first onto a twin sized mattress and careened down the long wooden staircase at full speed.
Richard and Rebecca jumped out of the way and laughed as the young man came to a skidding stop halfway down the hall.
“Watch out!” Sarah said from the top of the stairs. “My turn!”
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Later that night, after dinner and a tour of the rest of the house, Lord Dublinshire and his three guests went to their respective bedrooms. Richard had promised himself that he was going to behave, even though this was the first time he and Rebecca had ever slept in the same house. Standing in the upstairs corridor, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Becks. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Richard wasn’t even back to his room before his cell phone started ringing.
“It’s late, Tripp. Go to bed.”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” his chief of staff replied, “but I have a few quick things we need to go over so I can leave you alone tomorrow.”
Richard groaned. “Fine.”
“How’s it going, by the way?”
“Good. Really good. It’s nice to have people in the house again.”
“The American Treasury Secretary, right?”
“And her two kids. They’re both adults.” Richard put the phone on speaker so he could send a picture of them. Rebecca, Sarah, and Jonathan were all standing at the bottom of the grand hall staircase, holding up mattresses and grinning from ear to ear.
“Mattress surfing? Excellent! My little girl would be so jealous.” Tripp paused and zoomed in on the picture. “Wait. The younger woman. Who is that?”
“Rebecca’s daughter.”
“I met her in Canada. I went to the rooftop bar and couldn’t find an open table, so I sat down next to her.”
“Nice,” Richard replied with a yawn. “Go ahead and run through the work items, though. I’m exhausted.”
SEVENTY-NINE
The jet-lagged American visitors slept in the next day, so Richard took Gus on a run. It was late morning by the time he returned and showered, and Rebecca was sitting outside on a small patio that overlooked the garden. There were four chaise lounge chairs lined up in a row, and each had its own small table beside it. The area was meant for sunbathing, but the weather was unseasonably cool that day. Rebecca had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders to stay warm. Richard poured two cups of coffee and walked outside to join her.
“Good morning, Madam Secretary,” he said, handing her a mug as he sat down. “Be careful, it’s hot.”
“Mmm, thank you.”
“How’d you sleep?”
“Great
,” Rebecca said. “Like a log. The blackout curtains are clutch.”
Richard looked back at the house. “I think my sister had those put in. She and her husband used to come out here a lot when their boys were younger.”
“How old are they now?”
“Twenty-six and twenty-four. Same age as yours.” Richard paused. “That reminds me. What did you mean last night when you said you’re scared that Sarah is so much like you?”
Rebecca put her coffee mug down on the table and sat up in her chair. She folded her legs underneath her, crisscross, and let out a deep breath.
“She’s me. One hundred percent. She looks like me, acts like me, thinks like me. The only thing different is our accents, since she grew up in New York. I love it – us being so similar. I don’t have to worry as much about her because she processes things the same way I do. Now Jonathan,” she said, waving her hand, “is his father made over. That’s a story for another day.” Rebecca paused and looked out over the gardens. “It scares me because I’m afraid Sarah will make the same mistake I did. Listen to her head and not her heart. Choose what’s easy and convenient instead of fighting for what she really wants.”
Richard stood up from his chair and joined Rebecca on hers. “What did you really want?” he asked. He knew the answer, at least he thought he did, but he needed to hear her say it. “What did you want, Becks?”
“You.”
Richard reached out and pulled Rebecca toward him, breathing in waves of the scent that was uniquely hers. Sliding his fingers through her silky black hair, he leaned down and kissed her.
****
Every Star in the Sky Page 18
