Authors: Ellen Emerson White

Long Live the Queen (32 page)

BOOK: Long Live the Queen

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Beth nodded, and they stared at the rain.

“Getting cold out here,” Meg said.

Beth nodded, and handed her her crutch.

BETH WAS GOING to leave on Thursday, and on Wednesday night, she suggested that they go outside. For real.

“Oh, come on,” Meg said. “The balcony's fine.”

“We'll just try it for a few minutes,” Beth said. “And if you completely hate it, we'll come back in.”

Where had she heard
that
one before? Meg sighed. “If we go down there, I have to have agents.”

Beth handed her the phone. “Here. Let them know we're coming.”

It was strange to be followed by agents againâexcept for going back and forth to the hospital, it had been a long time. And she wasn't sure if she felt guilty, because of poor Chet, or a little afraid of them.

Or both.

Six of them, one of whom was female, accompanied them outside, and Meg assumed that there were others lurking ahead of them in the darkness somewhere. Dogs, snipers, counter-terrorism peopleâthe list probably went on endlessly.

All so that she could spend a few minutes in what was, technically, her own backyard.

“We aren't just going to sit in the Rose Garden or something?” Meg asked, as Beth pushed her wheelchair along the South Drive.

“Too boring,” Beth said.

She had a sudden, sinking feeling that she knew where they were going. “You'd better not be taking me down to the tennis court.”

“It's nice over there,” Beth said. “Trees and all.”

Meg slouched down. “God-damn it.”

Beth stopped the wheelchair at the end of the stone path leading to the court, and the Lyndon B. Johnson Children's Garden, and Meg used the arm of the chair to push herself up. It wasn't exactly well-lit down there at night, and she hesitated.

“I don't want to fall down,” she said.

“I won't let you,” Beth said. “Don't worry.”

The walkway was curved and uneven, and she tripped once on a loose piece of rock, but Beth caught herâjust as Meg heard a noise which indicated that one of her agents had been about to intercede.

“Hmmm,” Beth said. “Maybe this wasn't such a great idea, after all.”

Too late now. Meg ignored her, making her way to the black chain link fence andâbalancing cautiously on her right legâopened the gate. At first, she didn't think she could bring herself to step onto the courtâbut, she wasn't about to chicken out, with so many damn agents around. So, she limped, very slowly, down towards the two round tables at the far end. Then, she eased herself into one of the thinly-padded metal chairs, so out of breath that she let her cane fall onto the cement with a clatter.

Jesus. Not too long ago, she had felt like she
owned
this damn courtâthat it was her absolute
domain
, if not her professional futureâand now, just trying to stagger the length of it on her crutch was enough to exhaust her.

And
depress
her, horribly.

“You've got a lot of nerve dragging me down here,” she said.

“You've got a lot of nerve
coming
down here,” Beth said cheerfully.

Meg stared out at the dark, empty court, then down at her leg, feeling a surge of tremendous hatred for the son-of-a-bitch who had ruined all of this for her. Who had ruined her whole
life
.

“Nice weather we're having,” Beth said.

Meg scowled at her, still having trouble catching her breath.

“Just an observation,” Beth said.

They sat there, Meg feeling both furious and devastated, keeping her left fist clenched.

“So,” Beth said, after a while.

Meg sighed. “I was going to be a tennis player.”

Beth shook her head. “Oh, you were not.”

Oh, yeah? “What the hell do you know about it?” Meg asked.

“
You
were going to be a tennis player, like
I'm
going to win an Academy Award,” Beth said.

Meg frowned. “You don't even act.”

“I know,” Beth said, and looked sad. “That's why it's going to be even
harder
for me.”

Meg kept frowning at her. “So, what's your point?”

“I just think you were destined for other things, that's all,” Beth said.

As nearly as she could tell, she was no longer destined for much of
anything.
“Like what?” Meg asked.

Beth shrugged. “I don't know. I guess I wouldn't be surprised to turn around and see you be the House Majority Leader.”

Oh, yeah, right. “Never,” Meg said.

Beth grinned. “
Senate
Majority Leader?”

Which was only
slightly
more plausible. Very slightly.

“Okay,” Beth said. “How about Assistant District Attorney somewhere?”

“
Assistant?
” Meg said.

Beth laughed. “Yes, my friends, she has an ego and a
half
.”

“I do not,” Meg said defensively.

Beth nodded, looking very amused.

Okay, she probably did. To some degree. “Even if I wanted something like thatâwhich I don't,” Meg said, “I'm not going to get to school
anyway
, so it's kind of a moot point.”

Beth gestured around towards the unseen security shadows
around them. “They'll figure something out. I mean, Steven and Neal are getting to go places again.”

Places like the
movies
. “Barely,” Meg said.

“It's a start,” Beth said.

Not much of one. “I guess so.” Meg sighed. “Hell, even if they
would
let me, I couldn't do it.”

“You're still scared?” Beth asked.

There
was a stupid question. Meg frowned at her. “Wouldn't
you
be?”

Beth nodded.

Right. “Besides,” Meg said, “it's less than a month away. I have to have more operations, and all kinds of therapy, and they
still
don'tâ”

“So, take a year off,” Beth said. “Or, at least, a semester.”

Meg stopped, very briefly, feeling sorry for herself. “You mean, go in January?”

Beth shrugged. “Why not? That's what people who get wait-listed do.”

“Yeah, butâI'd be
behind
,” Meg said.

“What,” Beth said, “the world'll stop if you don't graduate in
precisely
four years?”

It might tilt on its axis, ever so slightly, but it probably wouldn't actually stop. So, Meg shook her head. “No, butâ”

“What do you think the odds are that
I'm
going to finish in eight nice, neat semesters?” Beth asked.

Slim to none. Meg grinned. “Well, I'm kind of moreâ”

“Conventional,” Beth said.

“Yeah,” Meg said.

Beth nodded. “Well, you Puritans are like that.”

“It's a work ethic thing,” Meg said.

Beth grinned. “Yeah, I've heard about that.”

Most New Englanders had. Of course, if she started college later than she should, she could always make up the lost semesterâor
twoâduring the summers, andâthen, the obvious solution occurred to her. “Hey, I could go part-time,” she said. “Here in the city.” Especially since George Washington University was
literally
a few blocks away from the White House. Surely, her parents and the Secret Service could work something out. She looked across the table at Beth, feelingâalmostâexcited. “That might beâokay. Sort of.”

“Well, don't be
too
enthusiastic,” Beth said.

Then, Meg thought about the
reality
of the situation. The way people would stare at herâor maybe come
after
her, and how the press, and paparazzi wouldâ

“What?” Beth asked, seeing her expression.

Meg looked around nervously, even though the tennis court was dark, and quiet, and secluded. “I don't think I can go out in public. I mean, even if they
could
keep me safe, everyone'llâI mean, I couldn't go anywhere
before
without people staring, and hanging around and all.”

Beth frowned. “I guess it'll be a lot worse now.”

“I guess,” Meg said, wryly. And, nothing like having a crippled hand and leg to make herself even
more
conspicuous.

Beth was looking at her splint, too. “But you'll go nuts, if you don't get out of here at some point. I mean, even if you areâwellâ”

“A pariah,” Meg said.

“Sort of, I guess, butâI don't think there's anything evil about it,” Beth said. “I just think people are worried about you. They want to know you're okay and all.”

Meg nodded. Judging from the stacks of mail that were still swamping the Correspondence Office, that was probably true. She hadn't had the energy to look at more than a couple of dozen of themâPreston generally had a few with himâbut, she had still been startled by how genuinely heartfelt they were. Letters from people all over the countryâand
other
countries, people she had
never met, from places she had never been, who wrote about how hard they'd prayed, how happy they were that she was home again, and how they just wanted to let her know how they felt. Very nice, sweet, thoughtful letters.

“All these people wrote that they cried,” she said. “You know, when they heard I was safe.”

“I'm sure they did,” Beth said quietly. “It was really something.”

“Wait, you
saw
it?” Meg said. Jesus, there was still so much that they hadn't talked about yet. “I mean, you were watching television?”

Beth shook her head. “My stepfather was, and he called us right away.” She grinned. “He
hugged
me, if you can believe it.”

Barely. Meg grinned, too. “Who announced itâLinda?” Who was her mother's press secretary, blonde and aloof, and always
all
business.

Beth nodded. “Yeah, you should have seen it. She's got this big grin on, and the press room's clapping, andâeveryone was pretty happy. I mean, it was sort of scary, because I guess the networks heard something was happening, because they cut to it
before
she came out, and you've got them saying that they knew the President was en route
somewhere
, and there would be an announcement any time now, and then, Linda comes out with this bigâ” She stopped, her eyes very bright. “Well,” she said, and looked away, whisking her sleeve across her eyes.

“Pretty dramatic,” Meg said.

“Pretty
amazing,
” Beth said.

They sat there for a minute, Meg thinking about how strange it was that something so very personal could also be so very public.

“I have to face them,” she said. “The press, I mean.” The prospect of which was scary.

Beth nodded. “I think that's a good idea. Clear the air. Let people see for themselves that you're okay.”

Depending upon how broadly one wanted to define the concept of being okay.

They sat there some more, looking out at the tennis court, Meg almost able to
hear
the sounds of sneakers, and balls striking racquets, and clanging up against the fence. Tennis, in all of its tactile, exhilarating glory.

She looked away from the court, and at Beth, instead. “I, uhâ” She was never one to get emotional. If possible. “I'm glad you came. To see me and all. I meanâ” She coughed uncomfortably. “Thank you.”

Beth nodded. “Kind of a nightmare for you to say that?”

Yes.

“What I like,” Beth said, “is that you're not uptight. It's refreshing.”

No doubt.

“I'm glad I came, too. I meanâ” now,
Beth
looked uncomfortableâ“you know.”

Meg nodded, and they both looked in different directions.

“I'm afraid,” Meg said, after a while.

“I am, too,” Beth said.

Meg turned to look at her again, not having expected that. “You are?”

“Well, yeah. I meanâ” Beth ducked her head a little. “I don't want anything to happen to you.”

Meg couldn't think of anything to say, and Beth couldn't seem to, either.

BOOK: Long Live the Queen