Advise and Consent (58 page)

“I don’t think we’re the only ones who are worried,” she said.

Celestine looked up quickly.

“He is very worried,” she said.

Out on the lawn, having found a table sufficiently remote and put in their order, the junior Senator from Iowa and the senior Senator from Utah looked at one another for a long moment and laughed.

“All right,” Brigham Anderson said. “Out with it. Are you supposed to take me to the woodshed or feed me candy? What were the directions you received from the able Majority Leader and his distinguished friend from Illinois?”

“Damn,” Senator Smith said, “that’s the trouble with Washington. Everybody knows all the signals. You can’t pull any surprises.”

“Oh, you can,” Senator Anderson said, “but not this time. I knew this was a put-up deal the minute Mabel told me you’d called. I didn’t see what good it would do, but I like your company and it seemed a good chance to get away for a while in the spring weather. To say nothing of a free meal. On you.”

“I’ll come over for dinner some night soon and make up for it,” Lafe promised. “I don’t know that there’s any reason to be coy about this. Bob would like for you to see the President as soon as possible, I think this afternoon rather than tonight—”

“He told me tonight when I talked to him earlier,” Brig said quickly.

“I know,” Lafe said, “but he’s been thinking it over and feels the sooner the better. And of course he hopes you’ll be willing to drop your opposition to Leffingwell so there won’t be any head-on collision with the White House that might cause a lot of unpleasantness for you and the Senate and the President and everybody. It’s that simple. I think Bob is right and I’m here to do what I can to bring you around. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” Brig agreed.

“But since you’re so sure you’ve got to judge, and you’re so certain you’re judging correctly, I suppose the execution of my mission isn’t as simple as the statement of it, right?” Lafe added, looking down thoughtfully across the sun-swept fields and hoping this would restore the mood of the drive. It did.

“I can’t go against what I feel is right in this situation,” his friend remarked, rather desperately. “Surely you don’t expect me to, Lafe?”

“Not if you’re sure it’s right, of course not,” Senator Smith said. “You are sure, of course.”

“You know from what I said earlier that I’m not sure,” Brig said bluntly, “at least not in the sense of one hundred per cent, no-qualifications, no-doubts sure. Who the hell ever is, if he’s honest? But I am sure in the sense that I have balanced all the factors as well as I can, and this is what I come up with. And you know me. Having arrived at that, how can I do anything else?”

“Yes,” Lafe said with a frustrated little sigh. “I know you. As well as anybody can, that is.”

“Oh, I’m not so difficult,” Senator Anderson said quickly. “At least,” he added, with a puzzled little frown, “I hope I’m not.”

“You’re okay,” Lafe said reassuringly, for reassurance, underneath the confident manner, seemed to be what his friend needed most at the moment “You’re all right. You don’t really think you could bring yourself to see the President this afternoon, then?”

“Well,” Brig said slowly, “I want Bob with me, and I rather think, under all the circumstances, that I’d like to have Harley, too. And I doubt if it would be feasible to set that up on such short notice. And also, it would seem sort of—rushed, you know? As though I were being pressured into it. I don’t like to be pressured into things, especially when he would think I was all ready to give in to him just because I came running when he whistled.”

“This isn’t a contest of wills between you and the President,” Lafe said sharply, and his colleague gave him a quizzical look.

“Isn’t it?” he said. “You know damned well it is, Lafe Smith, so who’s kidding whom? I have excellent grounds, to my way of thinking, for wanting that nomination withdrawn. I’m not going to change my mind in ten minutes just because Papa says change it. And I don’t intend to give him the advantage by hurrying to see him. There’s some strategy involved on my side too, you know. It’s reached a point where I can’t afford to yield too easily.”

“I don’t think you intend to yield at all,” Senator Smith said bluntly. Senator Anderson gave him an impassive glance.

“You can think that,” he offered pleasantly, “if you like.”

“Damn, you’re a stubborn soul,” Lafe said. “I still think you would be advised to see him as soon as possible even if you don’t intend to yield. After all, this isn’t an appointment for dogcatcher; an awful lot is riding on it, both here and overseas. I’m sure he’ll see you just as soon as you care to come. Aren’t you possibly being just a little stiff-necked about it not to go halfway in meeting him?”

The Senator from Utah frowned thoughtfully.

“Lafe,” he said, “I’m thinking about it. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. Just don’t pressure me, that’s all. I would like to think I could go down there and talk to him as one American to another with the interests of the country at heart and work out a solution that would really be best for us all. But I don’t know. Maybe I don’t trust him enough.”

“He’s the President,” Lafe said simply. “There are times when we’ve got to trust him.”

“I don’t go for that corny argument,” Brigham. Anderson said with a real sharpness in his voice. “He may be President, but I’m United States Senator and I have a responsibility just as deep as his, and so do you, running in a clear line to the Constitution, exactly like his. He doesn’t need any by-your-leave from me to exercise his responsibility, and I don’t need any by-your-leave from him to exercise mine. We’re equally charged and equally responsible. I’m not his damned errand boy.”

“Okay,” Senator Smith said calmly. “Okay, I won’t say any more. I’ve done my best. Say,” he said in a completely offhand manner, “that’s a cute little trick at that table over there under the oak tree.”

Senator Anderson gave him a quick look, and this time Lafe was quite sure there was a rare expression of pain in his eyes.

“And don’t be like that, either,” he said. “I’m thinking. I’ll keep on thinking. I’ll try to work it out in my own mind. Maybe by the time we get back I’ll be ready to see him. But I’ve got to do it my own way.”

“Sure you do, pal,” Lafe said comfortably. “It’s a terrific responsibility you’re carrying, so just ignore me. Like so many people who consider themselves close to you, I just want to help you.” He shook his head in a puzzled way. “If I only knew how,” he said in a rather helpless voice.

“Oh, you do, for Christ’s sake,” Brigham Anderson said impatiently. “This ride, this talk, your friendship—it all helps. I’m grateful, believe me. Why,” he said, and his tone became much easier and more humorous suddenly, “if it weren’t for you, Senator, I just don’t know how I’d get through the day. Honest to Pete.”

“Sure, sure,” Lafe said. “She really is cute, you know?”

“Yes,” Brig said, studying her carefully, “she really is. Not as cute as the future Mrs. Smith, though.”

“Well,” Lafe said with a grin, “not as available, anyway.”

And so the luncheon went pleasantly, they waved good-by happily to Dolly and company when they left, and the ride back through the bursting countryside was relaxed and comfortable, passing easily with small talk and nothing more about life, the nomination, or other profoundly philosophic matters until they drew up to a stop light on Wisconsin Avenue alongside a newsstand, carrying the late editions of the
Star
and the
News
. The Majority Leader had indeed topped Fred Van Ackerman.

“MUNSON SAYS ANDERSON TO SEE PRESIDENT TODAY,” The
Star
said.

“BOB SAYS BRIG TO MEET MR. BIG,” The
News
announced, more chattily.

“
That
does it,” Lafe said humorously, and for just a second his companion looked annoyed. Then he laughed.

“Seems rather definite,” he observed.

“Now, surely,” Lafe said with a smile, “
surely
you aren’t going to make a liar out of Bob. He means so well.”

Brig smiled.

“He certainly does,” he agreed, without further comment.

“Maybe I’ll give him a call when I get in and tell him to set it up for this afternoon, then,” Senator Smith suggested carefully, and Senator Anderson laughed.

“Are you sure that’s safe?” he inquired. “I’m awfully stubborn, you know. Everybody says so. I might just get on my high horse again.”

“I don’t think you will,” Senator Smith told him. “Or will you?”

“Keep guessing,” Brig suggested cheerfully. “It’s good for you.”

But he sounded relaxed and he looked relaxed, as though he really had changed his mind and was comfortable about it, and so his colleague decided, as they went on to the Hill, that he would let himself be guided accordingly.

At the Delaware Avenue entrance to the Old Office Building he stopped the car, and the Senator from Utah started to get out and then turned back and held out his hand.

“Lafe,” he said. “Thanks for lunch—thanks for everything. You’re a good friend.”

“I try to be,” Senator Smith said. “It’s one of my few virtues. As soon as this little girl I’m chasing catches me I’ll let you know. I want you to be best man.”

“I would love to,” Brig said, sounding very pleased. “See you later.”

“Right,” the Senator from Iowa said.

Ten minutes later he was on the phone in his office telling the Majority Leader that the iron appeared to be hot and Bob had better strike it while it was.

“I’d suggest you tell the President to let you handle the details of setting it up, though,” Lafe said. “I think he’s coming around, but it needs your patient touch.”

“Sure thing,” Senator Munson said. “I’ll explain the situation to him and I know he’ll understand.”

The President, however, had other ideas.

Back in his office, facing the accumulated calls, letters, and telegrams of the morning, the senior Senator from Utah felt as though he had been away for several days, so numerous were they and so long a process had he gone through in his thinking since the previous midnight when he had announced his decision to extend the hearings. It had been a rough fifteen hours, for all that they had seemed outwardly to affect him so little, and for all that it had been only Celestine, who in her silent way had recognized the full extent of the mental turmoil he had been going through. This was the biggest act of political defiance he had ever committed, the biggest single act of will he had ever displayed on the national scene, the first
time he had ever stood out alone against the overwhelming weight of the White House, the party, the press, and a major portion of domestic and world opinion; and it was not an easy thing to do, however much an innate iron and strength of character had come to his assistance. He still had no great fear of the consequences, for he still felt he had a good case to make, and he still felt thoroughly capable of weathering whatever might come as a result of his actions; but this did not make it any easier to undergo, inside. Along with the stubbornness, the integrity of character, the impassive unyielding calm and tolerance there also went a very real sensitivity and a heart that could be bruised much more easily than the world knew. He didn’t like to be going against popular opinion, he didn’t enjoy being pilloried in the press, he didn’t want to think he was giving trouble to his party and his friends. It did not make it more pleasant to feel that he was right in it, even though he managed to maintain for the most part an air that convinced most who saw him that he was armored in righteousness and undaunted in his convictions. He was, but he was paying for it.

Therefore it had been with a considerable feeling of relief that he had heard that Lafe would come to take him to lunch, for he knew at once what lay behind it, and he was grateful—so grateful that it surprised him a little, for he had not realized quite how much tension he was really under—that his friends should be taking care of him and trying to arrange a solution for him. The drive with his likable colleague, with his customary combination of philosophy, insight, good will toward the world and entertaining interest in sex, had relaxed and amused him as always, even though there had been moments of challenge to his own feelings that had not been too pleasant. But Lafe had a quality of innate kindness about him that was always comforting, particularly to his friends when they were troubled for one reason or another, and Brig had returned from their little excursion into the glowing countryside in a much happier frame of mind than he had started out. And, toward the end of it, he had finally begun to conclude that probably Bob and Orrin and Lafe were right, that probably he was being too stiff-necked, that probably he should meet the President halfway, give him his little triumph, if that was what he chose to consider it, of coming early to the White House, and try to get it worked out in as amicable and friendly a fashion as possible. He was convinced, for in general he approved of the President and conceived him to be a man of reasonableness and understanding, as concerned for the country’s future as he was himself, that when they had a chance to talk it over the solution would not be difficult. He was even, in that moment of relaxation after his visit with Lafe, disposed to think that he might possibly yield on the point he deemed most fundamental and not insist on the withdrawal of the nomination—providing there could be some sort of confrontation with the nominee, some sort of satisfactory discussion in which all the cards could be put on the table and everybody could understand one another, and Bob Leffingwell could be put under a cautionary admonition he would not ignore in future.

Thus, by the time the phone rang and the interoffice buzzer sounded so that he knew it must be either one of his immediate friends or the White House, he was in a mood to be receptive to any reasonable approach. The President’s first words sounded reasonable, and the chairman of the subcommittee embarked upon the conversation that was to be a major turning point in his life with a feeling of friendliness and accommodation that were quite genuine and sincere.

“Brigham Anderson?” the President asked cordially, and Brig said, “Yes, Mr. President, how are you?” with an equal cordiality. The President chuckled.