First Lady (37 page)
Aaron instantly wrapped his chubby arms around his sister, offering comfort the best way he knew how. Short of offering pie. With ice cream.
Lauren’s heart ached at the sight. One minute the Marlowe children could be at each other’s throats, and the very next they would band together so tightly Lauren was sure that no outside force, no matter how strong, could come between them
“It’s my turn for a hug,” Christopher insisted. “Don’t be a greedy pig, Aaron! She’s my sister, too.”
And like most beautiful moments, Lauren thought wanly, this one was short-lived.
Ashley solved the problem by wiping her cheeks, then giving both brothers a quick one-armed hug. “Nothing’s wrong,” she told them. “We were just having girl talk.” She smiled at Lauren, who grinned back knowingly.
“Did you ask her?” Christopher whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Yup,” Ashley informed her brother. “We can call her whatever we want. I am going to call her Mama. Grandma told me that’s what Lauren, I mean Mama, called her mama.”
Lauren sat up and both the boys turned toward her and regarded her curiously.
The blonde woman felt the blood drain from her face. Oh, no, she mentally dithered. I don’t think I can go through all that again soon. I haven’t recovered from the first kid conversation yet!
“Can we call you that, too?” Christopher finally asked.
Lauren blinked. “Umm… of course. If that’s what you want?” the words lilted upward in question.
“Sure!” Aaron shouted.
“Cool!” Christopher agreed. “Thanks, Mama!”
“Can we have a Coke?” Aaron asked. When Lauren didn’t answer right away, he added, “Please? We ate all of our lunch,” thinking that was the problem.
“Uhh… Sure. There are some cold drinks in the house.”
“Thanks, La… errr, Mama!” he said. “Race you to the house, Aaron.” Before his brother could answer, Christopher took off running.
“No fair!” the younger boy complained, breaking into as fast a run as he could manage, his small feet kicking clouds of sand as he went.
Shell-shocked, Lauren could only blink.
“Beth says boys are easier,” Ashley said wisely.
Lauren shook her head and smiled. “I think that, even if that’s true, I couldn’t love you more.” She caught sight of Dev walking past Chris and Aaron on her way towards them. “Would you like a Coke, too? We can save talking to your mom for once we’re
back
home in
Ashley grinned and nodded. She bolted off the blanket to join her brothers, stopping to kiss Devlyn along the way.
When Devlyn's bare feet reached the blanket, she worriedly glanced down at Lauren. “Are you okay?”
“I’ve just been through the emotional wringer. More than once.” She nodded a little, taking stock of herself. “But I actually feel pretty good.”
Devlyn looked over her shoulder at the retreating forms of her children. She smiled and offered Lauren her hand.
“Welcome to motherhood, Ms. Strayer.”
“Is it always like that?” she asked weakly, wrapping her arm around Devlyn’s waist as they headed back to the house and towards most of her birthday cake, which she’d saved from the day before. She could feel a low, rumbling laugh work its way from deep inside her partner.
“Far be it from me to spoil the surprise.”
At the same moment, they turned their heads, and their eyes met. Lauren couldn't help but smile. The next 50 years were going to be nothing if not interesting.
AUGUST
D
EV REACHED INTO HER desk and pulled out a small inhaler. Placing it in her nostril, she compressed it and drew in a deep breath at the same time. This was faster than migraine tablets and didn’t come with the bitter taste that made her gag.
She glanced back at the stack of papers in front of her, willing her eyes to refocus so she could get through them before calling it a day.
She’d been up since
, so she could make a
meeting in
Chicago
, which had quickly turned into three meetings that droned on until mid-afternoon. Her schedule had been shot to hell, and Liza was nearly fit to be tied.
The entire flight home she’d been stuck in conference calls with various members of her cabinet. Somehow, she managed to make up most of the meetings she’d missed. But to her disgust, she’d been forced into taking desperate measures by personally contacting two recalcitrant Democratic senators from New Jersey in order to explain how a piece of environmental legislation they were expected to oppose was worth a second look. To top it off, on her way back to
Pittsburgh
for a quick speech at the annual meeting of the Health Insurance Association of America.
The day had been a raging political success, with things falling into place in a way that exceeded most of her staff’s expectations, if not Devlyn’s. But she wondered if the price was destined to be her sanity or her health. She’d barely eaten all day, had drunk no less than three gallons of coffee, and had lost track of how many people she’d yelled at. Despite her migraine medication, her head was pounding so fiercely she felt nauseous. And her vision had been blurring on and off all day. The next person who said something stupid or rearranged her schedule to fit in just one more meeting was slated for a slow, painful death.
When the door to her office opened, she snapped the pencil she held in half. She looked up to see Liza, who was at least as frazzled as she was, and took a deep breath to calm her ragged nerves.
“Madam President.” Devlyn could see Liza's grip on her electronic calendar tighten and by the tone of her voice knew the other woman was walking on eggshells. “I wanted to let you know that I managed to reschedule the meetings we had to cancel this morning for tomorrow. I can also arrange to have all your morning correspondence sent to the residence if you like. You wouldn’t have to be in the office until at least
that way.”
“Have I been that bad today?”
Liza groaned inwardly. “It’s been a difficult day for all of us, ma’am. I let your schedule get out of hand.” She looked away and gently blew at a piece of curly brown hair that bobbed down into her eyes. Shame colored her voice. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”
Dev was very aware that Liza hadn’t directly answered her question. Still, the message was loud and clear. “I approved all the changes in my calendar, Liza. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, ma’am.” But she didn’t appear to be convinced.
Dev sighed and willed the pounding in her head to stop. “I would like to deal with my correspondence in the residence tomorrow. Thank you, Liza. Is there anything else?”
Liza hesitated.
“Spit it out, ” Dev snapped, her exasperation clear. With effort, she lowered her voice. “Whatever it is it’s not your fault and I won’t kill you for it.” I hope.
“There is just one thing, ma’am.” Reluctantly, she handed Devlyn a folder containing a recent study of the world’s remaining oil reserves and the geopolitical ramifications of the
United States
' increased usage over the past two decades. “You don’t need to deal with that right away. But it’s earmarked as information you should be aware of for tomorrow’s 10:15 a.m. meeting, ma’am.”
“I see.” Devlyn reached for the folder that was at least a half-inch thick. “This is a summary, I assume?” She gave the heavy folder an openly distasteful glance.
“The original findings were over 10,000 pages, ma’am. I have those completely covering my desk at the moment. I can have those sent to your residence if you’d like to review them as well.”
Devlyn stood up and snorted softly. “No, thank you, Liza. I think I’m going back to have a late dinner with my family.” She peered at Liza’s watch, unable to distinguish the time. “If they haven’t eaten, that is.”
“Emma called an hour ago, ma’am. The children ate late lunches and Ms. Strayer left for the residence about two hours ago.”
Devlyn looked a little startled. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since she’d last seen Lauren, could it?
“They’re waiting for you to have dinner, so long as you’re not past 8,” Liza went on. “It’s
now.”
Dev gave the younger woman a sympathetic glance. “I’ll see you tomorrow and I promise to be in a better mood.”
“Yes, ma’am. Good night.”
“Liza?”
Wary eyes tracked Devlyn as the President reclaimed her navy blazer from a cedar coat rack and stuffed the file into a dark-brown leather briefcase. “Yes, Madam President?”
“Go home.”
The slender woman nodded, and for the first time all day, a small smile touched her lips. She slipped out of the Oval Office, closing the door behind her.
Few people spoke to Dev and fewer people made eye contact with her as she padded down the hallways. Even the agents who flanked her every move maintained an unusually respectful distance behind her. You’ve been a real bitch today, Marlowe. Even the people with the guns are afraid of you.
She didn’t go right into the dining room. Instead, she dropped her blazer and briefcase off in her private office, dropped down into her office chair and quietly rested her head in her hands, thankful for the room’s dim light.
After a few moments, the already ajar door was slowly pushed open and Aaron came into the room. “Mom?”
Sighing she lifted her head and looked to him. “Yeah?”
He ran around the side of her desk. “Mama wants to know if you’ll be coming into dinner?”
Devlyn couldn’t help but smile at Lauren’s new title. She leaned forward and gave her son a gentle hug. “Yeah, buddy, I’ll be there in just a minute.”
The boy’s pale eyes shone with concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Just tired. Go tell everyone I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave her a bright grin before bolting from the room. “We’re having chili!” he called to her on the way out.
Devlyn quickly changed into a pair of soft cotton slacks and a polo shirt. The children and Lauren were already seated by the time she made it to the table.
Lauren looked a little harried herself, having followed Devlyn around for most of the day. But for security reasons, she wasn’t permitted to be present during Devlyn’s last meetings.
“Hi, Mom,” the kids chorused as Dev took her place at the table.
“Hi, guys.”
“Hi, Mom,” Lauren repeated with a tired smile.
Dev chuckled weakly, then motioned the kids to dig in. She wasn’t surprised to see that Emma wasn’t joining them. They had recently instituted a standing rule that after
, Emma’s time was her own, unless neither Dev nor Lauren had made it home yet.
"Are you working tonight, Devlyn?" Lauren tried to make the question sound casual by starting to pick at her food.
“I have some things do deal with after dinner, yes.” Dev didn’t even look up as she began putting food on her plate.
"But, Mom," Ashley moaned, suddenly looking very upset. "You promised we'd work on my Brownie project. I’ve been waiting all week and it’s due tomorrow.”
"Nuh uh, Ashley," Aaron broke in sharply. "It's not your turn to do something with her. It's mine. You were last week."
"Aaron, Ashley," Lauren warned quietly, seeing the darkening of Dev's features from across the table.
"Shut up, Aaron." Christopher nudged his brother’s foot from underneath the table. "You're going to get us all in trouble. You’re being too loud."
"Am not!"
"Are too!" Ashley said tartly. "And besides, you're wrong."
"Am not! Mom said—"
“All right!” Dev slammed her hand down against the shiny wooden table, sending her fork clattering across it. “That’s enough!” Her face was beet-red, and she was breathing hard. “Just stop! I need five damn minutes of peace and quiet. Can you manage to give that to me, please?”
The children instantly went deadly silent, and all Devlyn could hear was the pounding of her own pulse in her ears.
After a moment, Lauren gently cleared her throat. "Will you kids excuse us?”
All three nodded quickly, and Dev’s eyes closed in self-disgust.
“I'd like to talk to your mother in private,” Lauren continued. “Carefully take your bowls and eat on the table in the game room, okay?"
Ashley bolted from the table in tears, leaving her dinner behind, while Christopher and Aaron slowly retrieved theirs, neither one daring to glance at their mother and risk incurring her wrath.
Even Gremlin and Princess scurried out from under the table, where they were hiding in hopes of a major food spill, and scampered down the hall. Though not without twin growls in Devlyn’s direction.