The Peace Maker

by Michele Chynoweth

  Doing the right thing was so hard sometimes, she sighed. But as Stephanie would say, it’s about what I can feel best about in the long run.

  President Leif Mitchell’s inauguration was typical of presidents past with all of its speeches and swearing-ins, concerts, parades, and pageantry.

  Chessa was working at Safe Horizon but, like most other Americans, watched some of the day’s events through a live news stream on her tablet.

  A gentle snow had fallen on the East Coast through the night, turning DC from a government building cityscape into a magical winter wonderland.

  The wintry weather didn’t hold down attendance, which was estimated at a record three million people. Those with tickets crowded around the Capitol steps to watch the swearing in, while millions more stood in coats, hats, and boots on the Mall watching the ceremony on the Jumbotron screens.

  Jordan Greene stood at Leif’s right and his parents were at his left. Martin and Carol Greene could be seen standing in the first row behind them as were Leif’s brothers and their families. Chessa wished she could have been standing there, not to be visible but to be present, in his circle, by his side as his friend supporting him.

  She had been formally invited to all of the ceremonies, as had Don and Dorothy Richards. They had respectfully declined, as had she.

  Chessa hadn’t spoken to her in-laws since the funeral. She knew they still thought she was to blame somehow for Darren’s death, especially after their son had told them confidentially about her visit to Leif. They were as contemptuous of Leif Mitchell as their son had been.

  Chessa watched as he took the podium, facing the masses gathered before him, who were waving American flags and chanting, “Leif… Leif…Leif.”

  Then a hush fell as the new president of the United States began his address solemnly, proudly, no longer the rocker cowboy but the dignified leader of a nation.

  “My fellow citizens of this ‘one nation under God.’ ” Leif began and had to pause as applause erupted and then silence fell again. “I thank you for your trust in me, and more importantly, for your faith in God, whom I ultimately thank for guiding me here, to this place, to this moment in time, to lead you forward in unity. I first want to express my profound sympathy and condolences regarding my fallen countryman Senator Darren Richards, to his wife Chessa Richards, and to his family; may he rest in peace. Second, I’d like to remember my comrade also recently lost, the great Ray Silas; may he, too, rest in peace. Third, I’d like to thank President Martin Greene for his service to our country, and his son, Jordan Greene, who stands by my side as your next vice president.” The crowd again applauded as Leif nodded to his best friend.

  “This has been a challenging election, a difficult year, a time of tests. Our economy, while it did finally recover, still needs to be cultivated like a fragile flower; America may not have it in her again to weather another recession so we need to do much more to continue to create jobs, lower taxes, support American-made products, depend less on foreign resources, and remain the world leader in trade.

  “Great strides have been made to achieve peace in the Middle East, but this tenuous peace is also still fragile, and we need to continue to protect and defend it, because peace outside our borders can ensure peace within them. And while our great country has continued to make progress in science and technology, we have made compromises in social justice and respect for human life, and changes need to be made.

  “I believe, with the hand of the Almighty gently pushing us on, we can rise above and forge ahead into a new era of peace and prosperity. But we have to meet God halfway. It is our responsibility as a nation to reach out globally to those less fortunate: the poor, the oppressed, the abused. It is our responsibility as citizens to work together to grow our economy; it is our responsibility as children of God to temper scientific and technological progress with respect for all life, to ensure liberty and justice for all. When our forefathers crafted the Pledge of Allegiance, they did not mean to exclude the rights of certain members of society, including the unborn.

  “Just as King David conquered the giant, a seemingly insurmountable opponent, because he had faith in God, we can conquer the ‘giants’ of poverty, global imbalances, economic insecurity and social injustice. Instead of cowering before them in fear, we can see them for what they really are—mere obstacles we can overcome and rise above.

  “I know these ideals seem lofty, and possibly some may scoff that they are overzealous or overly religious. But I argue that they are God’s will, and if we proceed without them, we will surely fall, just as people who turned from Him have fallen throughout history. We must act according to His principles, not our own—principles of compassion, forgiveness, fairness, and love. We must live up to His call to be our best selves and act with integrity and honor, to act from our individual and collective conscience instead of out of chaos, to make tough choices instead of taking the easy way out. God gave us our own free will, and I believe we, your leaders in government, must act accordingly, limiting our interference in your independence, in the people’s rights to choose in matters of personal and religious freedoms. Yet we are called to live according to His will for us, to have faith that it will light our path….”

  Chessa sat, tears in her eyes, feeling proud of this man, and proud of herself for believing in him.

  President Mitchell finished his speech with a quote from a collection of excerpts from the Bible’s book of Psalms:

  “It is God who governs the world with justice, who judges the peoples with fairness. The Lord is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of trouble. The generation to come will be told of the Lord that they may proclaim to a people yet unborn the deliverance you have brought. For the Lord’s word is true; all his works are trustworthy. The Lord loves justice and right and fills the earth with goodness. Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build. Unless the Lord guards the city, in vain does the guard keep watch. The Lord is good to all, compassionate to every creature. The Lord supports all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down. You Lord are near to all who call upon you in truth.

  “Thank you, God. Thank you all. God bless America.”

  For the first time in history, the president thrilled the hundreds of thousands who lined the parade route along Pennsylvania Avenue from the Capitol to the White House by riding the entire way on horseback, sitting atop his favorite mount—Little Sally. Vice President Jordan Greene rode beside him on an equally stunning white gelding.

  Marching bands played familiar military favorites as well as songs from the president’s very own country-rock repertoire.

  It had been a long day and Chessa was too tired to cook so she picked up some Chinese carryout from her favorite restaurant in Chinatown. By the time she got home it was nearly eight o’clock. She turned on the television for company and sat on her couch at a snack tray to eat.

  She watched as the live program covering the inaugural balls continued from the Walter E. Washington Convention Center in DC. Guests crowded the main ballroom in front of the main stage chanting “Leif, Leif, Leif!” Then she heard a band strike up “Hail to the President” and loud applause as the president approached the dais. Strikingly debonair in a dark-gray tuxedo with a white shirt and red bow tie, Leif Mitchell confidently smiled and waved to the crowd. Minus the signature cowboy hat, fashion announcers would comment that he looked distinguished with his hair cut short and his face clean shaven for the occasion. The chants and applause finally subsided as he addressed the crowd, thanking them again for their support, telling them he was honored and humbled, and promising to live up to their hopes in him.

  Then it came time for the first dance.

  Press Secretary Logan Reese had managed to keep it a secret, even from the press, who the president’s dance partner would be at the Inaugural Balls.

  Leif had decided to introduce her following his speech. “I know you are all probably wondering: Who is this guy going to dance with?
” Laughter followed and then voices buzzed with anticipation. “… So without further ado, allow me to introduce my dance partner for the evening, my mother, Elizabeth Mitchell.”

  How sweet, Chessa thought. What a great guy.

  Chessa watched, lying covered in a blanket on the sofa, as mother and son danced to a slow waltz. She was so exhausted she fell asleep with the television on.

  Chessa woke with the sun, showered and was eating her breakfast with the morning news on when she nearly choked on the spoonful of cereal in her mouth.

  She heard the female news anchor say, “… and President Mitchell left his biggest surprise for the crowd of guests when he saved the last dance of the night at the Commander in Chief Ball for none other than Miss Kentucky, Rhonda Byrnes….”

  Chessa swallowed, grabbed the remote and turned up the volume, watching Leif holding the gorgeous young blonde in his arms as they slow-danced to Leif’s latest hit, “Brand New Day,” the last song he had recorded before hitting the campaign trail.

  “… Right here and now, in this place and time I choose to stay

  With you by my side I can see the light in this brand new day.

  All past regrets I leave behind like ashes strewn along the way

  The future’s ours and it begins for us now in this brand new day.”

  Leif and Miss Kentucky moved fluidly together to the slow rhythmic melody, a blues song with a sax and piano blend he had recorded with some friends he had made on one of his campaign stops.

  Rhonda Byrnes had chosen a floor-length gown designed by Versace that was a shade of midnight blue so dark it was almost black, contrasting with her light hair, which she wore pulled up and to the side in a matching sequined pin. The gown was made of a lightweight satin material that shimmered when she moved and had long sleeves made of fine dark lace.

  Chessa stared, open-mouthed, at the screen watching Leif and Miss Kentucky stare into each other’s eyes laughing and smiling. What happened to his mother?

  As if to answer her, the female news anchor broke in. “President Mitchell danced with his mother at most of the inaugural balls last night, but obviously saved the last dance for Miss Kentucky.” She turned to her fellow news anchor. “So Bob, do you think there might be something starting between these two?”

  “One can’t help but wonder,” Bob said into the camera with a wink. “After all, he is the country’s most eligible bachelor and she’s his home state’s beauty queen….”

  Chessa couldn’t help but feel jealous and turned the television off. Thank God I have to go to work, she thought, trying to keep her mind on getting ready and to erase any thoughts about what she had just seen.

  But that was impossible. Everyone at work that day talked about the President’s dance with Miss Kentucky the night before. “I think they’re an item,” one female co-worker gushed. “They looked fantastic together. She’s the luckiest girl alive.”

  “He’s not doing so bad either,” a male co-worker said in response. “Miss Kentucky is a knock-out.”

  “Who’s to say they’re a couple?” Chessa interjected. The four co-workers in the room with her looked at her with puzzled expressions. Never mind, she thought. They probably are. And why should I care?

  CHAPTER 18

  The weeks and months passed slowly for Chessa, but she focused on her work at the women’s shelter, attending Al-Anon meetings and getting together with Stephanie and Amy whenever they were free.

  Chessa had tried to keep in touch with her ex-in-laws, sending them birthday cards, calling to find out how they were doing, even inviting them to her new apartment in New York. But she never received any responses, was never invited to any family gatherings, never received cards or mail back from any of them except Stephanie, and was told in no uncertain terms never to contact them again.

  The Richards family’s bitterness over Darren’s death had only fed upon itself, and infuriated that, in their opinion, Chessa had not only probably caused it but had capitalized on it, they shunned her.

  So Chessa heard about the cure for diabetes finally being discovered from Amy when her reporter friend told her she was covering the story for the New York Times.

  And she found out through Stephanie about her father-in-law’s death following the accident he had driving while intoxicated.

  As promised, following the election, Chessa had given Amy copies of the documents regarding the research RA had done toward finding a cure for diabetes. Donald Richards had tried to block the reporter’s way, refusing any interviews and barring her access to the company.

  Of course Amy could not be deterred, and she managed to talk to some scientists behind the scenes, who gave her information about the research telling her the cure was close but not confirmed. More digging on her part led her to discover that other pharmaceutical companies had caught wind that the cure was close and were working hard themselves to produce it.

  In the end, RA Technologies lost the race to another major competitor, one that didn’t make use of harvested human eggs for its research but instead used harvested eggs from other animals. In the Times’ two-page spread about the cure, Amy had included a sidebar about stem cell research and the use of harvested human eggs. The story was objective and unbiased, but most readers would deduce from it that there had to be thousands of girls who needed to donate their eggs for the research RA and competing corporations had done.

  Amy followed up with an investigative piece on this, interviewing girls in Eastern Europe, Cypress, Africa, the Middle East, and the United States, telling the stories of pain, suffering, and loss they experienced through the human egg harvesting and trafficking processes.

  Meanwhile, Donald Richards had gone out with fellow employees to drown his sorrow that RA Technologies had not only lost the patent on the cure but—thanks to the New York Times articles—was being investigated by the US Food and Drug Administration for its practices. The FDA was looking into whether RA not only used but solicited harvested eggs overseas from impoverished and even enslaved young women. It was suspected that RA paid egg trafficking “pimps” to round up or kidnap fertile but underage girls as young as thirteen and fourteen to harvest their eggs against their request, often leaving them maimed or left for dead.

  He had been driving home from a bar in which he had downed multiple double shots of bourbon on top of several glasses of wine and beer when he swerved to miss what he thought was an oncoming car and ran head-on into a telephone pole.

  Chessa had attended the brief, closed-casket funeral and had sat in the back of the church quietly, heading out early and for the most part unnoticed.

  It was a bright, sunny June afternoon when next they met.

  Chessa had just gotten off work from Safe Horizon and was headed to meet Amy at a restaurant in downtown Manhattan to celebrate her friend’s birthday. She was walking down First Avenue, followed by her bodyguard, when she saw an entourage approaching her on the street. At first, Chessa thought it must be some celebrity who was probably going to be performing somewhere nearby. Dusk was falling and Chessa couldn’t tell who was headed her way—only that they were preceded by a lot of media reporters and cameramen, photographers and microphones.

  When they got close enough that she could make out faces, she saw him.

  Leif Mitchell stopped in his tracks, his Secret Service men almost stumbling over him, and stood a mere few feet away, looking right at her. A broad grin lit up his face and he slowly approached her, the media parting like the Red Sea before him.

  He ignored the popping flashes and shouts from reporters and spoke directly to her. “Well isn’t this a nice surprise Mrs. Richards. It’s so good to see you.” He shook her hand and held it for a minute.

  Chessa was completely flustered, but managed to smile, nod and respond, “Likewise Mr. President,” as cameras captured them for what would become the front page photo of every paper and news website the following day.

  That next day brought with it even bigger surprises for Ch
essa.

  She read in the news that Leif had been in New York to address the United Nations and was headed to dinner at a nearby restaurant with some heads of state when he ran into her on the street the night before.

  Chessa hadn’t known that he had stayed in a hotel room in Manhattan that night, alone, and that he was staying in the city the next day to tour new additions that had been made to the World Trade Center.

  So she was flabbergasted when the President of the United States of America showed up, literally, on the doorstep of Safe Horizon just minutes after she sat down at her desk for work that morning.

  He was flanked by Secret Service men, who shielded him from the media. Because her office was so small, only Leif and one bodyguard entered the building to the astonishment of a speechless shelter worker who stuttered as she shook his hand and then ran to get Chessa.

  Leif again shook her hand.

  “Hello again. I’m sorry to interrupt your day unannounced but I was wondering if you could possibly go to dinner with me tonight if I stay in New York?”

  Chessa stammered her response. “I…I…don’t know, um, what to say.”

  “Say yes.”

  “But…isn’t…doesn’t….” What about your girlfriend, Miss Kentucky? she wanted to ask but didn’t.

  “I understand if you say no. But look, you do owe me since you didn’t come to the Inaugural Ball to dance with me.”

  Chessa took advantage of the opening. “It looks like you had no problem finding a dancing partner.”

  “Oh, her. She was alright, but no Chessa Richards.”

  “I thought you were dating….”

  “Who, Miss Kentucky and I? Not a chance. She’s not my type.”

  Suddenly there was an impatient knock on the front door of the offices and an aide gave Leif some type of hand gesture in which he whirled his finger in the air.