First Lady (17 page)

“I guess you don’t have the courage of your convictions.”

“I guess I wasn’t born yesterday, either.” She heard him chuckle as she closed the door between their rooms.

Her skin felt hot. She couldn’t believe how much she’d wanted to stay. But he was still only a step away from being a stranger, and she needed more time to think about this.

Button lay curled next to Lucy in the double bed. Nealy made a place for her on the floor, then gently picked her up. The baby snuggled against her breast. She brushed her lips against that warm, downy head, then gently laid her on the makeshift bed and crawled in next to her sister.

It was a long time before she fell asleep.

As soon as Nealy awakened the next morning, she crept into Mat’s room to steal his keys so he couldn’t take off in the Oldsmobile and leave her behind. Once she got inside, however, she simply stared.

He lay face down across the bed with the white sheet tangled at the base of his bare, tan back. His hair was dark against the pillow bunched so aggressively beneath his head, his hand curled in a fist. As she stood there watching, he stirred and shifted his weight so that one leg angled out from beneath the sheet. It was strong and muscular, lightly dusted with dark hair. The sight of him filled her with a deep, un-Cornelia-like hunger.

She remembered everything she’d told him in her reckless confession last night. It had been so tempting to hide inside another person’s identity and spill her secrets. Tempting and foolish. She palmed the Olds keys, crept from the room, and made her way to the bathroom. This new day was a gift, and she refused to spoil it with old heartache.

An hour later and freshly showered, Mat poked his head into her room. He frowned as he saw the padding beneath her top. “I thought I told you I didn’t want you wearing that again.”

Button let out a squeal of delight as she caught sight of him. She began to squirm to get away from Nealy, who was trying to dress her in her last clean outfit. “I believe you mentioned it.”

“Well?”

“Are you under the illusion that I pay attention to you?”

“Da!”

“I want to go to the mall,” Lucy said as she came out of the bathroom. Her hair was wet from her shower and, for once, it wasn’t maroon.

“Nell’s not pregnant,” Mat announced. “That big stomach under her clothes is a pillow.”

“No way.”

He poked the padding before she could stop him. “It’s bogus.”

Lucy studied Nealy’s stomach. “Why?”

“She robbed a bank, and she’s on the run. “

“Cool.” For the first time Lucy regarded Nealy with respect. “So did you kill anybody or anything?”

Nealy spent a moment enjoying the fantasy of herself as Bonnie Parker. “I didn’t rob a bank. Mat’s just being cute. I’m . . . hiding from my ex-husband and his family.”

“That’s dumb.” Lucy shoved her clothes into her bag.

“Yes, well, I’d appreciate it if you would keep this to yourself.” She shot Mat a dark look. “Unlike
some
people who need to tell the world everything.”

“Da!” The baby squealed as Nealy fastened the final snap on her romper and released her.

Mat winced.

“I’m going to the mall today whether anybody wants to or not,” Lucy said.

Nealy saw trouble brewing, and to arrest it she imitated Mindy Collier, her perky social secretary. “I thought we might all go on a picnic.”

“Picnics suck. I’m going to the mall.”

Button scrambled to the end of the bed closest to Mat and would have fallen if Nealy hadn’t grabbed her by the ankle, then gently lowered her over the side. “I don’t think there are too many malls around here.”

“There’s one in the next town,” Lucy countered. “This girl at the pool told me.”

Button pulled herself up on the side of the bed and shrieked at Mat, who was looking around the room for the keys that were tucked into the pocket of Nealy’s shorts.

“Let’s go to the mall and then go on a picnic, ” she said reasonably.

“What’s this thing you’ve got with picnics?” Mat stopped just behind her. “And where are the keys to that old junker?”

“I think picnics are fun.
No!
”

But she’d grabbed for her stomach too late. He’d already reached under her top from the back and pulled open the ties. “First I’m going to burn this, then I’m heading down to the garage to hold all the mechanics hostage until Mabel’s fixed.”

She grabbed the padding from him and thrust it in her satchel. “We can stop at the garage on our way to the mall before the picnic.”

“Ohmygod, look!” Lucy exclaimed.

Nealy turned just in time to see Button take three tottery steps across the open carpet toward Mat.

“She’s walking!” Lucy’s eyes danced. “I was getting so worried. She’s a year old, and her dad was a moron, and—” She snapped her mouth shut, unwilling for them to see any emotion from her except disdain. Even so, she still couldn’t quite hide her pride, and Nealy wanted to hug her.

Button made a lunge for Mat’s leg, but he was too far away, and she began to tumble. He scooped her up like a linebacker retrieving a loose football.

“Daaaa . . .” She gazed at him worshipfully.

Mat frowned.

She cocked her head to the side and fluttered her lashes.

“I think I’m gonna hurl,” Lucy said.

Nealy giggled.

He shot her a sour look, then tucked Button under his arm like a potato sack. “Nobody’s going anywhere if I don’t find the keys.”

“I’m driving,” Nealy said brightly. “You had a hard day yesterday.”

“You’ve got them?”

She’d had years of practice avoiding answering direct questions. “I just hope it doesn’t rain today. Grab the diaper bag, Lucy. We’re off!”

She snatched up her own purse, along with the satchel that held her things, clutched them in front of her flat stomach, and charged into the hall. The doors of the elevator were starting to close, but she managed to slip inside, leaving the rest of them behind. When she reached the lobby, she didn’t glance either right or left, just kept her stomach covered and headed for the parking lot.

As she settled into the antique Oldsmobile, she reached for her satchel, then had second thoughts about putting the padding back on. Mat clearly detested it, and he was perfectly capable of making a public scene. With her short hair and cheap clothes, she was a far cry from America’s stylish First Lady. Would it be riskier to test Mat or go without and hope that she could pull it off?

As she debated, Mat came out of the lobby door with a scowl on his face, while Lucy trailed behind carrying Button.

Nealy stared at the Fed Ex envelope he was holding and realized she’d once again let the business of daily living get away from her. Three years of enjoying the efficiency of the White House mail room had made her lose touch. But this package had been too important for her to forget, and she needed to remember she no longer had an army of secretaries ready to hand over her private mail.

The system the White House used to separate personal correspondence from the thousands of pieces of public mail the first family received every day was simple and effective. Intimates of the President and his family were given a numerical code to include with the address—she and Dennis had chosen 1776—which shot private mail straight to their desks.

Mat braced one hand on the roof of the truck and stared through the open window at her. “The desk clerk stopped me. You didn’t tell me you were expecting a package.”

“And your point is?” She held out her hand, but he didn’t pass over the envelope.

Lucy disengaged Button’s fingers from her hair. “He’s pissed because the desk clerk made this big deal about was he sure this was for his wife because her last name wasn’t the same as his.”

She eyed the envelope. “I guess I should have used your last name like everybody else.”

His expression grew ominous. “What do you mean,
like everybody else?
”

This was the kind of slip she never made in Washington. “I didn’t mean a thing. Stop glowering and get in, will you?”

Lucy snickered. He slowly turned to stare at her. Button melted into smiles and gurgles, but he ignored her. “What’s Nell talking about?”

“You think I like having Jorik for a last name?” Lucy retorted. “You think Button does?”

“Are you telling me your last name is
Jorik
?”

“What did you think it was?”

Mat shoved his hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“Sit!” Button crowed.

“That’s it!” Nealy exclaimed. “No more foul language from either one of you. Button’s turning into the first R-rated toddler!”

“Sit!”
Button shouted, clapping her hands and looking pleased with herself.

It was Nealy’s turn to glower, and she made the most of it as she thrust her hand through the window. “I’ll take that.”

He looked down at the envelope. “From John Smith?”

Why couldn’t Terry have used a little more imagination? The old Terry would have written Homer Simpson or Jerry Falwell or something like that. But Dennis’s death had stolen Terry’s laughter. “My cousin,” she said.

Mat tested the weight of the package, then regarded her quizzically before he handed it over to her. She knew he expected her to tell him what was inside, but somehow she didn’t think volunteering that her dead husband’s lover had loaned her thousands of dollars in cash would put an end to his questions.

She tucked the edge of the package against her hip. “Time’s a-wastin’, cowpokes. Let’s head out.”

For all her insistence that they go to a mall, Lucy didn’t seem too enthusiastic once they arrived. As the teenager wandered away, Nealy wondered if she might not be more interested in postponing their arrival in Iowa than in going shopping.

With Button in her arms for camouflage, Nealy slipped into the rest room to dispose of the Fed Ex envelope and put the money into her purse for safekeeping. When she came out, Mat was waiting for her, even though he’d said he was heading for Mexico as soon as they disappeared.

“Trouble with the border guard?” she asked.

“
Shaaaaa!
” Button screeched in delight.

“So what was in the envelope?”

“Money so I can go clothes shopping. You’re welcome to come along.”

“Somebody actually sent you money?”

“It’s amazing what the Mafia pays for a kill these days.”

“You’ve been hanging around Lucy too much.” He fell into step next to her. “So how much do you have?”

“Enough to pay you back and buy something for myself that doesn’t blow.” Another sweet smile. “Enough to take off on my own if you irritate me in even the most minuscule way.”

His expression turned distinctly cocky. “Why do I think you’re happy right where you are?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“No? That kiss last night said something different.”

“What kiss?”

“The one you fell asleep dreaming about.”

She gave an honest-to-God snort.

He frowned. “I hate shopping. I especially hate shopping with a woman.”

“Then don’t come with me.” She marched into the center of the mall, then came to a dead stop. She was in a real American shopping mall, and she didn’t have to shake a single hand or solicit a vote. “This is wonderful!”

He looked at her as if she were crazy. “It’s a third-rate mall in the middle of nowhere, and every store is part of a chain. For a blue blood, you sure are easy to please.”

She was too busy making a beeline for the Gap to reply.

Despite Mat’s grumbling, he’d been well trained by those seven sisters, and he turned out to be a first-rate shopping companion. He held Button with only minimal complaint while Nealy looked through piles of clothes, and he passed generally astute judgment on what she should and shouldn’t buy. Since she’d been raised with a keen eye for fashion, she didn’t need his opinion, but it was fun asking for it.

In addition to basics for herself, she picked out a couple of sundresses for Lucy, then made a quick detour through Baby Gap to buy some outfits for Button. Mat, however, spoiled her fun by refusing to let her pay for their clothes. While he was handling the transaction, she slipped to another register and purchased a jaunty little pink denim cap.

After she set it on Button’s head, Mat studied it for a moment, then turned the bill backward. “This is the Demon we’re talking about.”

“Sorry.”

She expected the baby to pull off the cap, but because her adored Mat had positioned it, she let it stay. “I bought you that hat, not him,” Nealy grumbled.

Button tucked her head into his neck and sighed.

Nealy could hardly believe that no one was paying any attention to her. Between her altered appearance, the fact that no one expected to find Cornelia Case in a small West Virginia shopping mall, and the camouflage Mat and Button provided, she’d acquired a glorious invisibility.

They moved on to the mall’s main department store. She loved the novelty of being able to look over the merchandise without a dozen people trying to help her. It was nearly as much fun as eavesdropping on everyone’s conversations while she stood in line at the register.

When she located the lingerie department, she set about getting rid of Mat. “I’ll carry Button now. Would you mind taking my packages out to the car?”

“You’re trying to get rid of me.”

“Of all the paranoid notions. You told me you didn’t like to shop, and I was just being courteous.”

“Tell me another one. You either want to buy Tampax or underwear.”

All those sisters . . . “I need some lingerie,” she conceded, “and I’d rather do it by myself.”

“It’s a lot more fun as a group activity.” He charged toward the lingerie department. Button bounced happily in his arms, looking adorable in her pink cap with the bill turned backward.

Nealy was forced to trot to keep up with him. “You’ll be the only man there. You’ll embarrass yourself.”

“Embarrassment is being the only man in the lingerie department when you’re thirteen. At thirty-four, it doesn’t bother me at all. Matter of fact, I’m looking forward to it.” He headed straight for a lacy black nightie that was almost entirely transparent. “I think we should start with this.”