Compromising Positions (13 page)

Despite everything, he was still my father wanting me to have a good life. I loved him for that. “Thanks, Dad.”

“So, I think it’s great that you’re throwing yourself into your work.” Dad sat back as the waiter placed his soup before him. “How’s that amendment coming along?”

“Very well.” I grinned. “I’m really surprised. Everything’s taken off. Peters is going to offer it in the Senate.”

“Rusty is offering it? That’s wonderful. I’ll have to call and thank him, but how in the hell did you get him? He’s a pretty conservative guy.”

“To be honest, I wasn’t really the one who got him.”

“Who did?”

“My co-sponsor in the House—Jessica Clark.” On purpose I had said it as a matter-of-fact. I wanted to see my father’s reaction simply hearing her name. If my mom had said something to him, it would show.

“Jessica Clark?” Dad asked as he cocked his head in thought. He gave no other sign as to what he knew of her. “She’s an interesting choice.”

“Well, she’s a moderate and popular within her party. When I told her about it, she jumped at the chance.”

My father wrinkled his brow as he pondered my answer. “So how did she get Peters on board? He’s from New Hampshire. She’s from the other side of the country. I can’t imagine they know each other.”

“They don’t as far as I know. But she had a hunch and approached Kelty about sponsoring it in the Senate after I found a Republican sponsor.”

“Ah…” Dad nodded. “That’s it. So Kelty went to his friend Peters.”

“Exactly.”

“Bipartisan friendships are helpful that way,” he said and smiled. “Well, I’m impressed. The amendment will only pick up steam as more people know of the support you’ve lined up.”

“I hope so.”

Dad took a few slurps of his soup before asking, “So, you’re friends with Jessica Clark? Your mother mentioned meeting her.”

“Sure,” I said, trying to downplay it. “Mostly, I’ve become friends with the husband of her chief of staff. We’ve watched some basketball together.”

“That’s odd. Her chief of staff’s husband? Why are you spending time with him? I’m sure he’s a Democrat.”

“Actually, I’m not sure Larry Wingren is much of anything.” I laughed.

“Larry Wingren, the football player?”

“That’s him. If he has a party affiliation, he wouldn’t talk about it.” Finally, I was getting to a comfortable place with this topic.

“True. Politics and professional athletes don’t really mix.”

“He’s a great guy. I like it that we
don’t
talk politics.”

“And Jessica?” Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Obviously, you talk politics with her.”

“Of course.”

“Yet, you’re still friends?” My dad asked the question like it was a double edged sword. Were we friends, and if so, what kind?

“Just friends,” I said flatly.

“Your mother says she’s very pretty.” He arched an eyebrow. “I was curious, so I read up a little about her. She’s had quite a life so far. She must be interesting.”

“She is.”

“Michael,” Dad said in an admonishing tone. “Why aren’t you talking about her? What’s going on?”

It wasn’t like Mom to tell my dad about our private conversations. “What did Mom say?” I became grumpy.

“Nothing other than what I said. But it’s obvious you must be interested in her. When you don’t want to lie to me, you act the same way. That behavior hasn’t changed since you were five.”

“I’m not lying to you. I said we’re friends.”

“I can see why you’d be attracted to her. You’re recovering from a terrible marriage. Jessica couldn’t be more opposite of Stacy, and she’s sort of helpless.”

“Helpless?” He might as well have said she was a Hare Krishna. “Helpless is not the word I’d use to describe someone who took down a long-term incumbent. She’s tenacious. Look at how she got Peters on board.”

“I meant helpless as a woman. She’s unmarried, getting older…”

“Jesus Christ, Dad. This is the twenty-first century. Just because she’s never been married doesn’t mean she’s damaged goods. She’s not a spinster or anything.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t. I don’t see her that way at all.”

“How do you see her then?”

I looked outside the window for a moment to collect my thoughts. I was frank, but with few words. “I think she’s beautiful and strong, and I like being around her.”

“And is she the real reason why you want us to settle the divorce as soon as possible?”

“Yes.” I admitted it without hesitation, but with some fear in my voice.

“Oh, Son.” Dad sighed. “I know it’s been years since you were around a woman you were interested in, but now is not the time to start something. And even if you weren’t in the middle of a divorce, she’s a Democrat and—”

“I agree with you that it’s the wrong time for me to be dating,” I said, sitting back in my chair. “But for argument’s sake, what’s so wrong with her beyond her party affiliation? I’ve talked with her enough to know we share the same values. We just believe in different ways of achieving them. It’s not unheard of.”

“It’s not unheard of, and I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with her. Your mother said she was lovely. But you barely know her, and there are divides which can’t be breached.”

“I’d like to at least try.”

Dad solemnly nodded as if he were contemplating the matter. Eventually, he declared, “Just watch yourself, Son, because there are a lot of eyes on you.”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

“All right then.” Dad smiled again. “In the meantime, I’ll be interested to see how you and Congresswoman Clark pull off this amendment.”

CHAPTER TEN

Jessie

Michael walked into my reception area just as I was finishing up a meeting with a tribe from Arizona. He first spoke to my receptionist who I knew had a crush on him. Because I was totally smitten, I forgave her. She pointed him out to me, and his lips turned up into a surprised smile when he saw me surrounded by a large group of Native Americans. I took a step over to him and said, “Congressman Grath. I’d like to introduce you to some folks from the Hualapai Nation.”

“Why certainly,” Michael said, maintaining his smile.

“This is Chief Glenda Eagle Smith.” I gestured to a white haired woman. “Her tribe is here lobbying on a water rights bill.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Michael said and extended his hand. “That’s something I know nothing about. You’ll have to come to my office sometime to tell me.”

As the tribe members and Michael greeted one another, I stood back and admired how he easily interacted with a set of people with whom he had nothing in common. When the group left a few minutes later, I touched his arm, “Sorry to have sprung them on you. You’re kind to meet with them.”

“They’re interesting. I’m happy to do it.” He shrugged. “How was your day?”

“Good,” I answered and ushered him to my door. “Come on in.”

As Michael followed me into the office as Trish’s voice rose from behind him. “Hello, Michael.” We turned to see her wearing the same knowing smirk she always had for him.

“Evening, Trish,” he said, dryly. It was like he knew she was being snarky. Did he care? Did he not care? I wished I knew.

Just as we had each night since beginning work on the amendment, he joined me in the sitting area of my office and we talked shop. Most of the time our conversation was about the amendment, but occasionally it also veered into a general discussion of what was going on in Congress and politics in general. I kept the door wide open for all to see. It looked like any other meeting with another member of Congress, except we laughed a lot more.

After we had caught up for a bit, Michael cut the conversation short. “I’m sorry I need to go early tonight. I have to go back home tomorrow. Can I have your number in case I need to reach you while I’m gone?”

“Oh, sure,” I said, sad I wouldn’t see him. Then I realized it didn’t matter. “But I’m going back to my district, too. I won’t be here either.”

“Really? When are you leaving? Maybe I can take you to the airport.”

It was just a ride to the airport, but he might as well have asked me to prom. My heart skipped a beat. “My flight is out of National around five thirty.”

“That’s about the same time as my flight.” He smiled. “Come with me.”

“Are you sure?” I wanted to kick myself for giving him an opportunity to back out.

“Of course.”

I grinned because he sounded like backing out would never even cross his mind.

~~~

The following day I did my usual frantic race around my apartment, getting ready for the trip. Meanwhile, Severus sat in one spot, giving me the evil eye. He’d seen my suitcase which he knew was a bad sign. Unlike a dog, he hated travelling or anything that might involve a car. I didn’t know if it was the movement, or the lack of control, or the fact that cars took you to the vet. Occasionally, Severus would meow at me in an annoyed plea to stay.

 “Don’t worry. Trish will come and say hi to you,” I told him, scratching his scruff.

He was unimpressed. He didn’t know it, but he was also a welcome distraction for me as I tried to keep the butterflies in my stomach at bay. I kept telling myself Michael was only giving me a lift to the airport, but reason didn’t work. It felt like a date, and I was excited, which was silly because it couldn’t possibly feel that way to Michael. The knock at the door startled me as I turned off the thermostat. I opened it to see Michael, dashing as ever, in a casual sport coat and well-tailored pants. He flipped his keys in his hand and smiled. “Afternoon.”

“Hi.” I smiled. His eyes were on full twinkle as if he knew I was nervous, which only made me more nervous. “Thanks for picking me up. It’s really nice of you.

“My pleasure.” He gestured toward my suitcase. “Let me get your bag for you.”

“Thanks,” I said and gave Severus one final head scratch.

As we walked the few steps up from the basement apartment to the street, I saw what had to be Michael’s car. It was a very sporty, but classy Mercedes. I nodded toward it. “Larry has a car just like that.”

“Really?” he asked, as he placed the suitcase in the trunk.

“Yeah, he had to fight Trish to get it.”

“She’s hilarious.” He smiled and opened the door for me, which left me wondering if this was date behavior or just everyday chivalrous gentleman behavior.

After he got in and closed his own car door, he said, “Why didn’t she want the car?”

“She thought $100,000 was too much.” I looked around the soft leather and glossy wood surrounding me. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks. I know it’s self-indulgent though.”

“And you don’t feel an obligation to buy American? That’s rare, even for a Republican.”

“This is going to sound horrible,” he said, starting the engine. “But yes, you got me. It’s not that I don’t feel an obligation to buy an American car. I do feel obliged, but I don’t want an American car and I know I can get away with not buying one.”

“Ah…” I smiled in understanding. “Exercising a little aristocratic privilege, are we?”

“Well, I don’t do it often.”

“It doesn’t seem like you, actually.” I stared at him for a moment, wanting him to know I meant it.

“Thanks. So what kind of car do you drive, Congresswoman Clark?”

“A Ford Escape hybrid.”

“Oh God.” He laughed. “The quintessential Democrat car. American, union made, and environmentally correct.”

“Except that it’s an SUV.” I laughed. “And by the way. This is a German car. I bet you anything the workers who built it were unionized.”

“Yeah. A bunch of coddled, overpaid guys working thirty-hour work weeks with eight weeks of vacation, draining the company and holding back the economy.”

“Oh, you are so full of it.” I pushed his shoulder lightly. “Germany is one of the largest economies in the world. It’s actually survived the global recession. Union workers are more productive.”

“See.” He grinned. “This is why I like talking with you. You say such ridiculous things. You’re hilarious without even knowing it.”

“I could say the same about you.”

“I’m sure you could.”

The teasing jokes continued as we talked about our upcoming schedules for the next five days back in our districts. When we arrived at the airport, Michael pulled into the prime parking area reserved for members of Congress. As we got out of the car, he asked, “So what airline are you flying?”

“USAir. What about you?”

“United,” he said and pulled my suitcase out of the trunk.

Because I couldn’t think of anything else to say, we talked about the banalities of air travel and our schedules until we got to the terminal. When it was time to say goodbye, I felt an urge to give him a hug. It was stupid. We were friends, but that was not proper behavior for congressional colleagues of the opposite sex.

I looked up at him, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was surveying the loud, busy terminal. Other members of Congress and senators passed by us, also on their way back home. He winced and seemed annoyed, but when he looked at me again, he smiled. “Have a safe flight.”

“You too.”

“I’m your ride home, right?” Oddly, it sounded like he needed reassurance.

“Yes, you are.” I smiled.

“Good. I’ll text you on Sunday to make sure everything’s okay. All right?”

“Sounds great. Have a good trip.”

“Bye, Jessie.” He grazed his hand over my shoulder and walked away.

~~~

As promised, on Sunday evening, I received a text from him.

How’re you doing? Are we still on for tomorrow?

I answered immediately.

I’m doing well. The trip has been fine. Saw my family. Just had dinner with the local garbage men’s union. They definitely seem coddled.

I stared at my phone, hoping his response would pop up soon, and it did.

Coddled, big, burly guys. I bet you were the prettiest speaker they’ve ever had at one of their dinners.

Another compliment. It made me cover my mouth in embarrassment. I tapped a reply before he had a chance to put his phone away.

That’s not saying much. My flight gets in at ten. I’ll meet you at your car, OK?