Chapter 7 #2
"Remember this, Candy: Men who talk about what systems require often forget that people build those systems. They are supposed to serve people, not run them over. Roads, banks, utilities, armies, governments—they can all turn into abstractions and opportunities for corruption if you let them."
"And if you don't?"
"Then you will spend your life being accused of standing in the way of progress."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It can be." He kissed her cheek. "But sometimes the hardest jobs are the ones that most need to be done."
She smiled.
Senator Borne approached.
The governor painted on a smile. He looked back at Candace. "Do me a favor?"
"Sure, Granddad."
"Make sure your grandmother doesn't let Senator Welch drink all the good scotch."
Candace nodded, understanding she was dismissed.
"Candy," Pearl called.
Candace turned. "Yes?"
"Come give me a hand in the kitchen."
"Don't worry, Candy," her grandfather said. "You have years ahead of you to debate generals and senators."
"Candy!" Pearl called again.
"I'm coming."
Her grandfather laughed softly and turned to greet Senator Borne.
Candace made her way toward the kitchen, passing the tall tree, the polished furniture, the men with their glasses and their grand ideas. Behind her, the conversation resumed, lower now, guarded by politeness and Christmas music.
The kitchen was brighter, warmer, and louder.
Women moved around one another with an efficiency only gained through years of practice.
Platters were arranged. Coffee was poured.
Someone was laughing over a spilled bowl of whipped cream.
Her grandmother stood at the center, directing traffic with the authority of a field commander.
Pearl handed Candace a tray of cookies. "Take these to Santa before we have a rebellion."
Candace looked down at the tray, then back toward the hall.
"What?" Pearl asked.
"Nothing."
Pearl studied her for a beat, then shook her head, chuckling. "You were listening again."
"I was interested."
"Mm-hm. And did you win your debate?"
Candace smiled. "I didn't get to debate—just answer."
Pearl touched her cheek lightly. "Well, I'm sure you'll get your chance before Santa comes down the chimney."
Candace chuckled. "He's been here since four o'clock," she said.
Pearl rolled her eyes. "Take the cookies. Maybe you'll get to save the world on your way back."
Candace shrugged and accepted the tray. Some of the people in this house hoped to save the world. Others, she thought, were just trying to save themselves. She wondered which of the faces she passed would be willing to run over the people they served.
Maybe she could learn while she passed out cookies.
Candace grinned. "I'll be back for another tray," she told Pearl.
Pearl chuckled as she watched Candace walk away.
"Where's Candy off to?" Grandma Stratton asked.
Pearl shook her head. "Either to save Santa or save the world," she said.
"She's going to need a lot more cookies."
Pearl looked at the older woman, and they both laughed. "No doubt," Pearl said. "No doubt."
Arlington, Virginia
Saturday Afternoon
Present Day
"I hope this suggestion didn't intrude on your time with Cooper," Cassidy said.
Candace chuckled. "No. I think Coop might be more inclined to spend time with me this evening and tomorrow now that he's had a day with Mackenzie."
"They are funny together."
Candace smiled. "I'm not sure who is leading whom anymore."
Cassidy laughed. "That's why Kenzie likes Coop. He might look up to her a little. He isn't afraid to lead."
"I'm glad we came."
"Needed a break from the White House?"
"Yes and no," Candace said. "I have a feeling I'll end up bowling this weekend and probably watching a movie about some ancient civilization. Or dragons. That's his new obsession." She sighed.
"Uh-oh. Not into fantasy films?"
Candace chuckled. "My life is a fantasy film."
Cassidy pursed her lips, then burst into laughter.
Candace's laughter followed. "That did not come out the way I intended."
"Sorry," Cassidy apologized.
"Don't be. I'd welcome some fantasy in the bedroom."
Cassidy raised her brows.
"Life's been hectic. It seems like Jameson and I are constantly moving."
"Mm. Let me guess: in opposite directions."
"Good guess."
"I understand."
"Cass, I know that the demands of your jobs can take a toll on?—"
"Stop apologizing," Cassidy said. "Alex and I want to work with you—for you. And anyway, our passing like ships in the night isn't new."
Candace nodded.
"I've just made it my mission to carve out time for us whenever possible. Alone time. It was a little easier when both my mom and Helen were close."
"I can imagine."
"And I can imagine it's not easy for you and JD, even with Pearl right upstairs," Cassidy said.
"I think it's the place. We're never really alone, Cass."
Cassidy nodded.
"Spontaneity has taken on a different meaning for us," Candace said.
Cassidy chuckled.
"What?" Candace asked.
"I just wonder how many of the agents on your Secret Service detail got Shell's memo about Bible Study."
Candace laughed, full and bright. "God, she really does know how to get a message out."
Cassidy winked. "Well, she is your communications director."
"Mm. On more than one level, it seems."
Cassidy sobered. "I don't mean to bring up work."
"But?"
"I can tell something is on your mind," Cassidy said.
"I wonder if it's time to make some more changes."
"To the administration?"
Candace shrugged. "Yes. Not cabinet members, but maybe within the White House."
"Luke?"
"Luke is fabulous."
"But?"
"But Luke doesn't always know when to stop pushing things politically. He's already thinking about the next election."
Cassidy nodded.
"And I realize that's necessary."
"But?"
"But I can't shake the feeling that something is amiss, Cass."
"Something or someone?"
"Is there a difference?"
"No. I suppose there isn't," Cassidy said.
Candace's expression tightened.
"Candace?"
"Alex thinks we should move to meet with Kapralov."
Cassidy shook her head. "That explains why she wants to be in Connecticut this week."
"She didn't tell you?"
"No. I know she has concerns about taking on the leadership at the CIA."
Candace sighed.
"Don't do that," Cassidy said. "Don't start regretting your decision to put Alex at the CIA."
"If she?—"
"She wants the job," Cassidy said. "And she feels guilty about it."
"Why?"
Cassidy shrugged. "When she first left the FBI to run Carecom, she was completely committed.
Determined. Focused. After we had the twins, she started to struggle.
Not just with the pace, but with the work itself.
She decided to step away, hand over the company to Jonathan, and take a job with the State Police.
It let her coach Dylan's track team on the side.
Honestly, I wasn't just relieved—I was thrilled.
Those years were wonderful, for the most part.
" Cassidy smiled. "I knew she wasn't putting herself in danger.
And it felt, even if it wasn't true, like danger had stopped chasing us.
But that wasn't really the case. It just felt that way.
Alex became restless. She tried to hide it, but I could sense it, even when I wanted to believe everything was fine. "
"I know it isn't easy for you."
"No. It isn't. But I fell in love with an FBI agent who is built to take risks." Cassidy shook her head. "Most of the people I love are built that way."
"Cass."
"It's true," Cassidy said.
Candace studied her for a moment. "Most of the people?"
"My father. Claire. Dylan." Cassidy's smile was gentle, but her eyes remained serious.
"You all do it differently. Alex runs toward the gunfire.
Claire's job—a big part of it—is deceiving powerful people to keep people she doesn't know safe.
My father? I'm afraid to ask what risks he's taken.
And Dylan? He wants to be like them. He might not need to save the world, but he wants to save some small part of it.
He still thinks he can be Robin to Alex's Batman. "
Candace chuckled softly.
"And you," Cassidy continued, "you walk into rooms full of people who want something from you, or want to hurt you, or want to own a piece of you, who'll do anything to undermine your leadership."
"Politics is rarely gunfire."
"No," Cassidy said. "Sometimes it's worse."
Candace looked at her.
"We both know assuming a role on the public stage carries complications and physical risk.
That might not be the greatest risk you take," Cassidy said.
"But your position asks something similar from you.
You have to keep walking forward when fear is justified.
You have to think beyond yourself. Beyond your family.
Beyond what would make your life easier. "
Candace's gaze drifted toward the window.
Mackenzie and Cooper moved across the backyard, intent on plotting something no adult would fully appreciate until it was too late. Candace watched Cooper say something that made Mackenzie laugh, and for a moment, the weight in her chest eased.
Then it returned.
"Risk is an interesting word," Candace said.
Cassidy waited.
"We tend to define it by consequence: physical danger, political loss, public humiliation, failure." Candace turned back. "But I think there is something even more perilous."
"Like what?"
"Letting people need you," Candace said. "Letting yourself need them back."
Cassidy nodded.
Candace shook her head lightly. "I spend half my life telling people not to be afraid, or at least not to let fear make decisions for them. But I'm afraid all the time. Mostly that I'll hurt the people I love."
"Mm. I know. Jameson knows that, too."
Candace looked up.
"She doesn't say it in so many words," Cassidy said. "Not often. But I can see it. Probably because I know what it looks like to love someone who has convinced herself that being needed means she has to be unbreakable."
Candace let out a breath that was almost a laugh. "That obvious, huh?"
"To me?" Cassidy shrugged. "Yes. Because I live it the same way Jameson does."