The Wrong Side of Right (26 page)

Andy hurried over like I was about to collapse. And then my knees went all funny and I almost did, except I grabbed his arm and he grabbed my waist and I blinked up to see his face close to mine, his eyes concerned, but that familiar boomerang scar quirking as he smiled.

“What the fuck, Quinn?”

I pushed myself gently away, hands trembling. The next breath I took felt sharp, like inhaling water, and I realized numbly that I had started to sob.

“Whoa,” Andy muttered. “Okay. Come with me.”

We both glanced around the quiet parking lot, almost lovely in the dusky light, then he took my hand and led me downstairs, around the back of the motel and along a desolate residential street.

When we got to an empty dirt road, Andy hung a right, pulling me lightly by the tips of his fingers. We got to a section of intact fence lining a wide ocean of wheat stalks. Without asking permission, Andy gripped my waist and lifted me so that I was sitting, perched above him on a long wood beam.

“Now.” He placed his hands to either side of me. “What happened?”

“Elliott.” I shook my head, bile rising in my throat. “He’s evil.”

“I can see that.” Andy laughed mirthlessly. “But what exactly did he
do?
”

I drew a deep breath and told him, starting with Penny, what she meant to me, how I’d introduced the Coopers to her family, about the bridge I was trying to build between their two points of view. The joy I’d taken in seeing the senator’s position soften and evolve.

Andy drew closer as I told him more and more, my hands clasping the fence so tight, I felt the wood splintering into my palms. His arm crept warm around my back, one hand sprawled steady against me—it stopped my shaking, made my breath more even, made me able to talk at all.

But when I told him about Penny’s voicemail, he recoiled like I was toxic. I might as well have been. Elliott was right about one thing. This was my fault.

“How could I be so
stupid?
” I jumped off the fence and paced away. “I should never have exposed them like this. Meg was right. Everybody’s right! I’m an idiot.”

“No.” Andy’s face was as grave as I’d ever seen it. He held me in place, one hand on each of my shoulders, his feet rooted to the ground, planting me with him. “You are not an idiot. You are a good person who doesn’t deserve any of this bullshit.”

“It’s Elliott. He’s poisoned everything. He’s a . . .” My mouth moved, soundless, scrambling for a suitable word.

Andy squinted at me, a smile dawning. “Go on. You can say it.”

I squinted. “What?”

He cocked his head. “You never curse, do you?”

“My mom used to tell me that words had power. You should save the harshest ones for times when you really need them.”

“Kate?” He took my hands and squeezed. “This is one of those times.”

A laugh bubbled out of me. “You’re right!”

He nodded.

“Fuck,” I said. It felt awkward, but satisfying, so I said it louder. “Fuck!”

I turned, half expecting to see a group of horrified Kansans standing there, but my only witnesses were swaying crops and a few unimpressed blackbirds. I liked this, screaming, kicking the dirt road, and hollering into the sky.

“This has been a
fucked-up year!
”

I laughed, gasping for breath, and remembering Andy, twirled back to him.

His face had grown serious. And it wasn’t the sympathy and anger of a moment before that I saw in him now. His eyes were pained, like I’d stabbed him. But just as I started to ask what was wrong, he blinked and started away, holding one hand out behind him for me to grab.

“Come on.”

I fell into step and took his hand, feeling my body calm. “Where are we going?”

“To fix this.”

As we neared the town, its streets humming with generators, I realized we were still holding hands. I glanced around for onlookers, but no one was in sight, just empty news vans, parked cars, the afternoon’s last golden light dancing against their metal roofs.

“I’ve gotta go,” Andy said, turning to me with a frown. “But listen. Fuck this campaign. Do not let them tell you who you are. You’re not an idiot. You’re amazing, Kate Quinn. I see you.” He nodded at my confused expression. “I saw you right away. That stupid press conference, grabbing that stupid microphone. The real you. You’re better than all of them. Jesus . . .” He let out a desperate laugh. “You’re even nice to
vending machines!
”

I blinked blearily. “What are you—?”

“You’re . . .”

He stopped abruptly, his jaw tightening. Then his hand rose up to graze my hair and stuck there, and one step more and he was close enough to kiss me.

And just as I realized that—he
was
kissing me.

Not accidentally. Very, very deliberately.

It stopped me utterly, rooted me where I stood. His lips were soft but insistent, warm and opening, and after a moment of shock, I was just another stalk of wheat, lit by the sun, gently swaying, until my arms remembered themselves and rose up to twine around his neck. And then, there I was, breathing in his salty sweet scent, feeling the warmth of his neck, his hair soft under my fingers, his hands exploring my back, and— He broke away, smiling. Not that half smile, that patented
Andy Lawrence smirk, but a real smile, a look of almost glee in his eyes.

“I’m gonna
fix
this,” he called as he jogged away, and I was too dazed to ask what exactly he meant.

Up in my room, my giddiness faded as I picked up the phone to try Penny again. Again, it went straight to voicemail. I told the machine that I was sorry, that I’d never meant for this to happen, that I would do whatever it took to fix it, thinking as I hung up that I had no idea whether this could be fixed, or whether I would only succeed in destroying the life of the one person I cared most about in the world.

I’m gonna
fix
this,
Andy had said. If only we could.

29

I should have taken the senator aside that night.

But when he came to grab me for dinner, the twins were right behind him and I didn’t want to get them upset, and then he told me we were headed to a dinner that the campaign was providing for the whole town. And once we were there, standing in the town square with all of these people so grateful for the food, the chance to talk to the senator and take a break from their grief, it felt like the wrong moment. This was their time. Their crisis. Mine would have to wait.

I told myself I’d talk to him as soon as we’d returned to the motel, but Meg took me and the twins back before the senator, and although I stayed up as long as I could, staring at the dirty ceiling, hoping to hear his voice coming up the motel stairs, sleep took me and kept me until morning.

And then Meg was rushing us out, downstairs, into the waiting car, where the senator was locked in conversation with Elliott. I had to sit on my hands to keep from tearing at Elliott with my nails, pulling his smug face away from my father’s ear. As usual, he didn’t deign to look at me. It was lucky for both of us. If he had, I might have launched myself at him.

I told myself I’d talk to the senator during our flight, but Elliott stayed by his side the whole time. I could feel the clocks ticking, my sleeping cell phone smoldering in my bag, the flames growing with every second I didn’t extinguish them.

Just tell him,
my mind screamed.

Once we’re home,
it answered.

Thank God, Elliott left us at the airport. But as we reached the Coopers’ house and deposited our bags in the foyer, the senator changed his shirt and shoes and turned around to leave for headquarters.

Before he could get out the door, I stood in front of it, blocking the way. And then my mouth clamped shut.

He laughed uneasily. “Something on your mind?”

I swallowed hard.
Now or never.

“The Diazes are being deported.”

I watched and hated myself for watching his reaction, trying to see whether shock registered.

It did. The color left his face, but when he looked up again, to my dismay, he simply sighed.

“I was afraid of that.”

“
Afraid
of that?” I stared at him in disbelief. “I don’t—I don’t understand. Why didn’t you
stop
him?”

“Stop—?” He shook his head. “Stop who?”

“Elliott.” I said it quickly, before I lost the nerve. “He’s the one who did it.”

“Kate.” The senator frowned. “I don’t know what you’re thinking here, but Elliott had nothing to do with this.”

“I know you trust him, but—”

“But what?” He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

And what could I say? I had no evidence. Just a hunch.

He looked at his watch. “Kate, I need to—”

“It doesn’t matter who caused it. We have to fix it!”

“How?”

“Call someone. Get a pardon. I don’t know, how do you fix these things? You’re a senator, can’t you—?”

“No, Kate, I can’t,” he said sharply. “And if I could, do you really think that would be a good idea in an election year? Think!”

I shrunk back, and at my reaction, he reached out a hand, then let it drop.

“If it got out that I helped illegal immigrants get immunity, I’d be done. I’d have broken a promise I made to millions of voters.”

“And what about the promise you made to the Diazes? What about them?”

He stared right back at me, unflinching. “I kept that promise. I never named them. That’s all I can do.”

He started away, but I grabbed his hand. He peered down at it as if I were a bug that had landed on him. Swallowing back my tears, I forced my fingers to hold on.

“Please,” I said. “
Dad
. Please.”

The word was out there. He looked me in the eye.

“I’m asking you to help me.”

He smiled, sadly, but I knew the man better now. I knew what was real and what was faked for effect. His cheeks didn’t crinkle the way they did with a real smile. His eyes were blank, like a wall had come down behind them.

This was the mask. My heart sank.

“And I’m telling you
I can’t
.”

My hand went numb. Let go.

And then he was gone.

“Kate?” Meg’s voice was a raw whisper. She’d been watching from the hall. Her eyes were glistening.

I couldn’t face her, couldn’t bear to look at any other human being right now, so I ran straight to my room, collapsing into tears, the house tumbling around me, the door slamming shut and the covers rising up around my head to drown out the screaming horror of all I’d done and failed pathetically to do.

• • •

My phone woke me up. Penny’s name flashed. I scrambled to answer.

“What’s going on? Are you okay?”

But Penny was yelling over me. It took me a few seconds to realize what she was saying.

“You did it—you’re amazing! They’re going to become citizens, they won’t have to hide anymore. I can’t believe this is happening!”

She was crying, but laughing too. There were voices in the background. Music. They were celebrating.

I sat up in bed wondering whether I was dreaming this call.

“The last three days have been a nightmare, not knowing what was going to happen, but Brad told us—”

“Wait, slow down.” I shook the cobwebs out of my head.

Penny laughed. “Sorry! I’m freaking out.”

“What happened?” My feet hit the bedroom floor. “And who is Brad?”

“He’s from the State Department.” She paused, confused. “I thought your dad spoke to him. He said he was under orders to help us. He’s super-nice, and he found us a lawyer and got them green cards, and oh my God, I’m freaking! Out!”

I heard cars pulling into the front drive, the front door careening open and agitated voices filling the hallways. Staffers. They’d breached Meg’s safe zone. Something was happening.

This. This is what’s happening,
I realized, staring at my phone.

The senator had changed his mind. After he’d left me yesterday, he must have had a crisis of conscience. He’d helped them after all. This was
happening!

I danced into fresh clothes and hurried downstairs with a dizzy mix of joy and worry—for the consequences, the damage to the senator’s campaign. But more than anything, I was lit up with gratitude.

When I spotted my father among staffers in the TV room, I nearly leaped over the sofa to hug him. But his expression stopped me cold.

He looked like someone had died.

On TV, the president was speaking.

“I’ve found myself in a unique position in the last few days—that of undoing a grievous and heartbreaking wrong. On August second, Senator Mark Cooper and his family shared a meal with the Diaz family, friends of his daughter Kate. There, he learned that Carlos and Inez Diaz, the parents of three American children, had entered the country illegally
twenty-five years before. You may recall his comments in the last debate about his encounter with them.” The president paused. “I myself was moved by his remarks, I must admit. Which is why I was shocked and horrified when I learned that at the same time Senator Cooper was speaking so warmly of the Diazes, the Cooper campaign was taking steps to have the family deported, the children ripped out of their home, and the parents thrown into jail.”

Meg crumpled, clutching the arm of the sofa. I froze in place, legs tingling empty, about to give way as the world disintegrated and re-formed around me.

The senator hadn’t helped the Diazes.

It was never the senator at all.

“When my son, Andrew, came to me with these allegations, I authorized the State Department to investigate, and if true, to undo the actions of Immigration and Customs Enforcement in this case. I’m happy to report that the Diazes have been reunited with their children, and that today they are taking steps toward becoming full and legal citizens of this nation. I do not argue that illegal immigration is not a serious issue plaguing this country. But to see a politician play with lives like they were mere pawns in a political chess match shakes me to my core. The Diazes did not deserve this. America did not deserve this. I call on Senator Cooper to respond to these allegations, and I call on Congress to investigate the clear breach of ethics by my opponent’s campaign. Thank you.”

He left the room, reporters screaming, his press secretary taking his place at the podium to answer their questions.

“Lies!”
Meg’s voice was raw with horror. “How can he just stand there and
lie
like that?”

“He believes it.”

A voice behind me made my legs tense, ready for flight. I turned to see Elliott staring lazily over my shoulder at the senator, his fingers grazing his chin.

“You heard the man. His son, Andrew, came to him with these allegations. Now, I wonder. Who could have put such a crazy idea into Andy Lawrence’s head?”

When his eyes landed on me, everyone else’s did too. Just as I was trying to get my tongue to move, I heard a clip-clop-clip and gasped. Nancy’s bright fingernails were digging into my arm.

She was smiling. It was terrifying.

“You and I need to have a
talk
.”

Meg rose, but before she could speak, Nancy had already dragged me into the senator’s study and shut the door.

She laid her tablet on the mahogany desk and stepped away like it was about to explode.

“Tell me.” She pressed her lacquered fingertips to her mouth and spoke through them. “Just tell me what this is.”

I stared down at the glowing screen with little recognition. It was just some blog, with some celebrity photo, two people who weren’t supposed to be dating caught out together. Three shots, posted one on top of the other, a couple out at dusk, holding hands, embracing—and finally a closer shot in which our faces were plainly visible.

Andy. Me. Kissing.

Someone had been there, then, in Kansas. Snapping pictures. In one of the parked cars, maybe.

The screen grew crisp and the room blurry. I could hardly feel my body, hear the voices outside the room, anything but the sound of my own shallow breathing. This was what I’d been afraid of for so long. And now that it had happened, I felt . . . nothing.

What was it Dina Thomas had said, back on the campaign trail?
The truth always comes out in time.

“What is this website?” I asked. My voice was feeble. “I’ve never heard of it. Maybe we can have these taken down.”

Nancy looked at me with disgust. “Every major website has picked this up. I’m surprised it hasn’t hit cable news yet. If it weren’t for that press conference, it would be the top story.”

“Oh.” Another breath scraped through me.

“Oh,” she repeated, mocking.

She stared at me so long that I had to look up, had to meet her eyes just to get her to stop, and when I did I wished I hadn’t. She was smiling that gentle smile of hers, but there was something sharp and glittering behind it. Something vicious. It had always been there, hadn’t it? How had I not seen it right away?

“How long has this been going on?”

I shook my head. “Nothing is going on. He kissed me because he felt sorry for me. We’re friends, that’s it.”

“Were you ‘friends’
before
you met Senator Cooper?”

“What?”
What was she accusing me of? My blood started
to rush back into my body, my nerves firing with each pulse. “No, I . . . no.”

“Did you tell him about the Diazes? That your father’s campaign was responsible for having them deported?”

She had her arms crossed like a TV district attorney. I’m sure she meant to look intimidating, but it had the opposite effect. Who was
she
to put me on trial? And what exactly was I being accused of? Telling the truth? Helping my friend?

“Yes,” I snapped. “Andy was the only one who would listen to me. And thank God I told him, or else nobody would have helped them!”

Nancy’s eyes fell and I heard the creak of the study door behind me. The senator stood in the doorway, Meg behind him, both of their faces deadened with shock.

“It’s hit the news, then?” Nancy asked briskly. “I’ll get the team here, carve out an hour this afternoon to regroup.”

The senator spoke so softly I could hardly hear him. “That won’t be necessary, Nancy.”