Chapter Seven #2
“Got it, thank you.” Sam gave her a business card and stood to leave. “If you think of anything else we should know, please give me a call. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to you.”
“Thank you.”
Clarissa walked them to the foyer. When they reached the door, Freddie returned the weapon and ammunition to her.
“Take the gun and go upstairs,” Sam said. “We don’t turn our backs on weapons. We’ll see ourselves out.”
Clarissa took the gun and went up the stairs.
Only when she was out of view did Sam open the door.
“She can still nail us from an upstairs window,” Freddie said as they made their way down the front stairs.
Sam cast an uneasy glance at the second-floor windows, but didn’t see Clarissa. However, she did walk a little faster than she normally would have to get back to the car. She was putting on her seat belt when her phone chimed with a text from Nick.
Can you do 1 p.m. at WKLA?
Sam checked the time, saw that she had enough to get to Germantown and then back downtown by one. See you then.
Can’t wait.
She smiled at the way he managed to make her feel loved even with a two-word text.
“What’re you smiling about?”
“A nooner with my husband.”
“Ew.”
“Not that kind. The kind where we pay a visit to the WKLA reporter who asked when we’re going to have ‘children of our own’ to tell her how our thirteen-year-old wants to know what it means to be a ‘real’ child because some kids in school apparently told him he isn’t one.”
“Come on. No way.”
“Way. So we’re going there to have a talk with her.”
“Does she know that?”
“Nope.”
He laughed. “Can I please come and watch and bring popcorn? I promise to be so quiet, you won’t even know I’m there.”
“Sure,” she said, laughing with him. “Knock yourself out.”
“This is gonna be epic.”
Nick had texted retired senator Graham O’Connor, his political mentor and adopted father figure, as well as Brandon Halliwell, chair of the Democratic National Committee, asking them to come to the White House as soon as they could.
Graham arrived first and was shown into Nick’s office and offered coffee.
“I’d rather have bourbon,” Graham said, “but coffee will work if bourbon isn’t an option.”
“Coming right up, Senator,” Tanya, one of the receptionists, said. “For you, too, Mr. Vice President?”
“Yes, please, Tanya. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
Graham had combed his thick white hair before leaving his farm in Leesburg to come into the city. “I hope you’ve got good news for me, Nick.”
“I have news, but I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”
Graham’s face fell. “Are you going to break my heart, son?”
Nick loved that Graham considered him a son, not that he could ever replace John, the son Graham had lost. Senator John O’Connor had been Nick’s best friend and his boss. His murder had been one of the most devastating things to ever happen to Nick. “I’m afraid so.”
The older man grimaced but held his tongue when Tanya returned with coffees she set on the table in front of Graham. “Please let me know if you need anything else.”
“Thank you, Tanya,” Nick said. “Send Mr. Halliwell in when he arrives, if you would.”
“Yes, sir.” The door closed behind her with a faint click.
Nick got up from behind his desk and went around to sit across from Graham on the other sofa.
“Why?” Graham asked softly. “It’s within reach. All you have to do is toss your hat in the ring. You’d barely have to campaign.”
Nick took a sip of the coffee. “I don’t want it.
That’s the God’s honest truth. We both know I’d have to campaign—hard—for eighteen months.
I don’t want to be away from Sam and the kids.
I also don’t want to be surrounded by security for possibly the rest of my life.
My term would encompass high school and college for Scotty.
I don’t want that for him. I don’t want it for any of us.
Until you’ve lived with round-the-clock Secret Service protection, you can’t begin to know how confining it is. ”
Graham drank his coffee while listening intently.
“I know how badly you want this for me, and I love you for that and a million other things over the last twenty years. You’re the primary reason I’m sitting in this office right now, and I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for all of it. I am.”
“I know you are,” he said with a sigh. “One of the proudest days of my life was seeing you sworn in as vice president. I have no doubt whatsoever you’d run away with the election.”
“I appreciate your faith in me. I always have.”
“It’s not faith, Nick. It’s certainty. You’d win.”
“Maybe so, but I think the American people deserve a president who truly wants the job. That’s not me. Don’t get me wrong. If I had to do it in an emergency, I would without hesitation. But to spend eighteen months campaigning? I’m not doing that.”
Graham put his cup on the table and leaned in.
“Hear me out on this… What if you didn’t do the usual amount of campaigning?
What if you gave it one weekend a month or something through the primaries?
I think people would appreciate that you’ve got your priorities straight and are keeping the focus on your young family. ”
“I don’t want to miss even one weekend a month with my kids, Graham.”
“Take them with you. Show them life outside of DC.”
“And when Scotty doesn’t want to go because his friends are having a sleepover or a birthday party or fill in the blank?
It’s not that simple. They have lives, too, and I’ve disrupted Sam’s and Scotty’s lives enough.
The twins are starting to feel comfortable with us.
I can’t disappear from their lives for days on end when they’re used to having me around. It wouldn’t be fair.”
Graham let out a loud groan. “You’re killing me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. But my mind is made up.”
“About what?” Halliwell asked when he came into the room, a ball of nervous energy, as usual.
“He’s not going to run.”