Dissident (16 page)

“I know,” Caroline said. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean for us,” Jen said. “I meant for you. We dealt with it.”

“Speak for yourself,” Kathleen said. “Caroline was a straight up bitch for a while. Drove me fucking crazy.”

“Thank you, Katie.” Caroline stood up and crossed her arms. “You’re really building up my self-esteem.”

Kathleen looked chagrined. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. But it’s so much better when you’re the way you’re supposed to be. It was quite depressing when I was the only joker around here.”

“I was able to get a lot more work done when you were the only joker around here,” Jen said.

“Now, girls. There’s plenty of work for all of us. And there are always pranks to be had.” Caroline felt her stomach growl. “Want to grab some lunch?”

“Isn’t that Jack’s job now?” Kathleen asked. “To feed you, I mean.”

“He’s got some caucus thing over the noon hour. And he’s taking me to dinner. I’m yours for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Great,” Kathleen said. “Let’s order a pitcher of margaritas and pester Jen about Eric and his inability to make a permanent commitment. And I guess we can listen to you talk more about that Republican’s sexy body.”

“Sounds fantastic.” Jen headed toward the door. “Maybe you can give me some ideas so that I end up with three dozen roses, a giant teddy bear, and a marriage proposal after four years.”

Caroline grabbed her purse, making sure the card from Jack was still tucked safely inside an inner compartment. “Let’s roll.”

Maureen sat in her car, her hands shaking. The young man at the corner store had eyed her a little strangely, but since she paid cash for the phone and the money was good he didn’t really care about any reasons she might have for buying it. He simply activated it and sent her on her way.

She had driven to a park in Alexandria far away from her house in Silver Spring, and was sitting in the deserted parking lot.  She frowned at herself, still somewhat upset that she was turning into an extremely anxious woman. She knew it was unflattering. But she also knew she had good cause to be worried. With a trembling hand, Maureen dialed the number at her parents’ home in Brownsville. Her father picked up on the first ring.

“Hi, Dad,” Maureen said.

“Reenie!” he exclaimed. “How are you?”

“Eh, I’m okay.”  She knew his phone routine, and asked the question before he had a chance to speak again. “Are you going to tell me what the temperature is down there?”

“It’s a balmy 88 degrees here in south Texas today,” her father said. “What’s it like in Washington?”

Maureen scowled at the giant piles of snow at the edge of the parking lot. “Don’t ask.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” her father asked.

“Don’t sound so surprised that I called.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Of course, it wouldn’t hurt for my only daughter to call a bit more often, but I understand how busy you are.” He laughed. “I can put your mother on the phone if you’d like her to spell it out a little more colorfully.”

Maureen chuckled. “No, that’s fine. Hey, you’ve got that referendum next week.  How’s that working out for you?”

Her father made a rude noise. “I’m voting for secession. Fuck Santos.”

“Dad-”

“Don’t start, Reenie. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m just fine with us leaving. We’ll be all right on our own.”

“But-” 

“Bastard wants everything a working man has,” her father spat. “He wants my guns? My land? My money? Come and take it!”

Maureen grimaced. “Daddy, really. Don’t talk that way. You’re not at the Alamo, for God’s sake.”

“Ah, I don’t want to talk about this. Makes me upset. Why don’t you do us both a favor and change the subject.”

She was more than willing to do that. “I was thinking about taking some vacation time to visit you and Mom.  Hang out by the pool, buy some cheap stuff in Mexico, the whole relaxing works.  Maybe head over to South Padre, swing up to Galveston.  Make a grand trip of it, you know?”

Her father’s voice brightened considerably. “We’d love that, darlin’. When are you coming?”

“I thought maybe some time next week, if that’s okay.”

“You’re always welcome here.”

“Is it okay if I bring someone?”

He would make assumptions about who that might be, but she wasn’t going to say too much to him.  Not on the phone.

“That’s fine,” he said. “We have plenty of room. Want to talk to your mother?”

“Tell her I’ll call her tomorrow to catch up.  I’ve gotta chat with Aimee too, see if she’ll be able to spend any time with me while I’m down there.” She bit back the apprehension climbing up her throat. “I miss you.”

“We miss you too, Reenie. Stay safe. We love you.”

“I will.  I’ll talk to you soon.”

Maureen heard her father hang up and steeled herself. This next call was definitely going to be harder than the one she had just made. She dialed her daughter’s cell number. The phone rang a few times and Maureen thought she would have to figure out a message to leave, but Aimee finally picked up on the fourth ring, answering with a tentative hello.

Maureen tried to keep her voice steady. “Hey, kiddo.”

Aimee’s voice relaxed. “Sorry. I didn’t recognize the number.”

“I’ve been having some trouble with my phone,” Maureen said. “Picked up a backup just in case. To be safe.”

“You’re so paranoid, mom.”

“I am not.”

“You are. What’s up?”

“I just wanted to hear your voice. How’d your test go this week?”

“It was fine. You were right. Astronomy is not an easy A. But I think I passed.”

“Good.”

“That can’t be the only reason you called.”

Maureen twirled her hair in her fingers. She was turning into a nervous wreck. “I’ve got some personal time I need to use. I was thinking of visiting grandma and grandpa in Brownsville, spending a few days there before heading to Galveston for a little break.  Want to join me?”

“Over Spring Break?”

“No, sooner than that. Maybe in a week or so.”

“That’s quick. Work must be busting your balls.”

“None of that,” Maureen clucked. “Just because you’re a thousand miles away doesn’t mean you get to speak like that. Especially to me.”

“Okay. But that’s such odd timing. Why now?”

“Use or lose, kiddo. I’ve already been hassled about never taking any time off.”

“Are you going to fly down? If you fly into Bergstrom I could pick you up and we could spend a couple of days together.”

“No, I’m probably going to drive. I might bring a friend.”

Aimee’s tone changed. “A man?”

“No, sweetheart. A friend of mine. Female.”

“It’s okay for you to date.”

“I know.” Maureen hadn’t exactly been celibate. She’d dated in the past few years, off and on. But she’d never gotten serious.

“Who’s the friend?”

“Just a coworker. She’s very nice. You’d like her a lot. She’s fallen on some hard times lately and I figured a trip might cheer her up.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I do occasionally do nice things.”

“I know,” Aimee said. “So should I like, save this number?”

“That’s probably a good idea. I might be using this for a while until I get the other one fixed.”

“Okay.” Aimee paused. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. It’s hard having you so far away. How are things?”

“It’s weird. All the in-state kids are looking at those of us from outside Texas kind of oddly, you know?  And when people find out I’m from DC, forget about it.”

"Remind them your family is full of native Texans. You have some street cred there.”

“I know. But it’s a weird dynamic. I don’t know what’s going to happen. The school says there are no issues with any of us staying here, which is nice.”

“Good. Remember, if there are any problems at all, go see Nana and Papa Savage in Waco. It’s not that close but they’re always there for you. “

“Yeah. The referendum is next week. I think they’re going to vote to secede.” Her daughter’s anxiety broke through. “What’s going on right now? Will you even be able to get here?”

“Don’t worry about any of that now, sweetie. You’re safe, you’re near family, and you are going to be fine. We’re all going to be fine. Look, I’ll call you in a few days once I hit the road. Okay?”

“Okay.” Aimee sighed into the phone. “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, kiddo.”

Maureen hung up the phone and rested her forehead on the steering wheel. She was crazy for even planning this. For thinking it would work. And even though she wanted to spill her guts to her daughter she knew better.  No, she had to act without thinking too much about it.

“God grant me the courage to do this,” she whispered, as she put the car into drive and left the parking lot.

Caroline

July

“I’m honored that you decided to sit next to me,” Ellen said.

Caroline fiddled with her seat buckle. She hated flying, but sucked it up and managed anyway. “This was my assigned seat. I didn’t think they did that on chartered flights.”

“You didn’t have to stay here. But I’m glad you did.” Ellen smiled. “There’s a very handsome man across the aisle who can’t take his eyes off of you.”

Ellen liked to play games sometimes, and apparently she had every intention of hassling her seat mate the entire journey.

“Spit it out,” Caroline said.

Ellen glanced across the aisle at Jack, who appeared to be trapped in conversation with a Republican he barely knew. “I hear McIntyre took you to Christine Sullivan’s fundraiser a couple of weeks ago.”

Caroline blushed. “It’s not all that big a deal.”

“Because you’re such a casual dater.”

“Jen told Eric, didn’t she?”

Ellen laughed. “Probably.”

Caroline turned and looked behind them.  Jen and Eric were holding hands and talking.

“Do you think it looks weird that we’re the only ones who brought our most important staffers on this trip?” she asked.

“No,” Ellen said. “Bob brought his chief of staff too. Unless people start to think we were trying to give Jen and Eric their own little getaway.”

“In romantic Jerusalem,” Caroline said dryly.

“Do not mock the Holy Land,” Ellen scoffed. “You know not what you say.”

“Most people would bring a legislative aide or other staffer along,” Caroline pointed out.

“We’re not most people. I can’t speak for why you chose Jen, but Eric never gets out of the office. He deserves a little fun.”

“That must be why the two of them make such a good couple. I’ve always wondered what they have in common besides politics. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that guy make a joke.”

“Jen’s been laughing. She must have found something he said funny.”

“Jenny’s easy to entertain,” Caroline said. “She puts up with me.”

She turned back around and smiled at her chief of staff. Jen glanced across the plane at Jack, then back to Caroline, and winked.

Caroline scrunched down in her seat. “I think my ears are burning.”

“I’m sure they’re lost in their own little world,” Ellen assured her. “They’re just enjoying the perks that come with being our very trusted and entirely too uptight chiefs of staff.”

“Who told you about me and Jack?”

“I put it together. Word gets around.”

“Great.”

“Don’t worry. It hasn’t gotten too far. Representative Capwell told me. He was at the fundraiser, too. And he knows we’re friends.”

Caroline racked her brain. Brian Capwell was an extremely conservative Republican Congressman from the outskirts of Pittsburgh. She hadn’t remembered seeing him in the ballroom. “He was?”

“I guess you were too busy paying attention to your date to mingle with your colleagues.”

“I feel bad for not noticing him. I like Brian.” He was cordial and kind, which was more than she could say for some of his ideological compatriots.

“I don’t think he was offended, so don’t worry. You know, you and Jack could have volunteered to share a hotel room.”

Caroline gave her an annoyed look. “Ellie, really.”

“I’m kidding. I know what a consummate professional you are.” Ellen looked across the aisle again. “He
is
cute. In a Republican bad boy kind of way.”

“Oh, he’s no boy,” she blurted out.

“Oh my. You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Probably not to the general public.”

“What about the rest of the delegation?”

Ellen laughed again. “Those old men? They’re caught up in their own delusions of grandeur. I’m assuming it’s obvious to Representative McIntyre, though.”

“Lower your voice.”

Ellen squeezed her hand reassuringly. “The plane is loud. He can’t hear us.” Her tone turned serious. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sounded a little hurt, and Caroline was flooded with guilt. “I’m sorry. I haven’t seen you that much lately. It’s still pretty new.”

“Well, now we’ve got an entire flight in which to catch up.”

Caroline squeezed her hand back. “Do you forgive me for being such a horrible friend?”

“I do. Mostly because none of my family members were able to come along on this trip and you’re the only one of these nutjobs I care to hang around with.”

“Why’d you invite them?”

“Sometimes we have to put policy above personality. I’m glad you agreed to come, though.”

“Me too.”

“So how is it?  The glow of a new relationship, I mean. When are you going to grant your first joint interview?”

Caroline made a very unladylike face. “Don’t even joke about that shit. I hate the spotlight.”

“I know.”

“It hasn’t been that long. I didn’t want to make it obvious, you know?  The media rakes us over the coals enough anyway. We’re trying to keep it low key for the time being.”

“I understand. I won’t go blabbing. Are you happy?”

“Yeah,” Caroline said. “Whoda thunk it?”

“I would,” Ellen said. “You thrive on human companionship, whether platonic or not. I think he’s a good fit for you.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“There’s something about him. I can’t put my finger on it. I’ve heard all that nonsense people say about him but I haven’t seen anything to back it up.” She tapped her armrest. “What’s Christine think of all of this?”

Ellen and Christine were friendly, but probably wouldn’t call themselves friends. Mostly because they were much further apart on the political spectrum than Caroline was in relation to them. Ellen was also more idealistic and trusting than Caroline and Christine, which Caroline always found endearing since it broke every stereotype she had about Southern California. Caroline didn’t want to feed her own ego, but it was entirely plausible that Ellen and Christine only pretended to get along because of their individual relationships with her.

“Chrissy doesn’t like to think much about it, if you catch my drift,” Caroline said.

“She’ll get over it.”

“That’s what Jenny said.”

They heard laughter coming from a couple of rows behind them. Caroline recognized the female trill. It was definitely Jen.

“They do seem to be enjoying themselves,” she said.

“They’re allowed to share a room,” Ellen announced. “I said so.”

Caroline pretended to undo her seat belt. “I’m regretting not switching seats. Maybe there’s still time.”

“It’s a long trip across the Atlantic, and I haven’t really seen you in weeks. Unless you want to sit with that randy young aide in the back of the plane, you’re stuck with me.”

“I think he was either playing video games or downloading porn right before we boarded. Not sure which one out of the two is preferable.”

“I bet it was porn. Did you see what genre it was?” Ellen asked. “Maybe he’s into older women who have totally opposite political views from him. MILF or cougar porn.”

“I don’t know whether to be shocked or impressed, Senator. I had no idea you even knew what MILF meant.”

“I don’t live under a rock, Caroline. My home state is the capital of the adult film industry. I know all the acronyms.”

“If you have a private collection of higher end flicks, I don’t want to know.”

“Fine. I’m rescinding your invite to our next key party. A shame. I bet McIntyre’s got quite a bit going on under that suit.”

Caroline raised her chin. “He suits me just fine.”

Ellen grinned triumphantly. She loved being right. “What an adorable play on words. He must do okay for an older man, then.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I’m betting you open up about that shit in about hour eight of the flight.”

Caroline knew she’d be spilling her guts to Ellen by the time the sun went down and the rest of the travelers nodded off. The woman was quite skilled at coaxing highly sensitive and unnecessary details out of people, and she loved the salacious stuff. It was part of the reason they got along so well. They were both huge perverts.

“Maybe,” she said. “Is there booze on this thing?”

“Maybe,” Ellen echoed cryptically. “Are you sure you don’t want to go after the boys straight out of college? This may be your last chance, if that man across the aisle has anything to say about it.”

“I prefer mature men,” Caroline said.

“I can see that. But you should never rule out the baby veal.”

“Not when there’s man meat around.”

Ellen laughed again, louder this time. “You keep this up and people
will
think we’ve been drinking. Stop making me laugh.”

“You can fake professionalism while we’re talking. I’m not that much older than most Congressional aides. Maybe that kid in the back prefers the elderly. Like you. You two could talk social security for hours, I bet.”

“I am in my prime,” Ellen said huffily. “And there’s no harm in him enjoying a well-produced movie. Gotta find some way to get through a fifteen hour flight. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Ha.”

“No hope for sleep?”

“Not a chance.”

“I guess I can live with that.”

“Eric showed me pictures of a few rings the other day,” Ellen said. “Asking for my expert opinion. I think he’s going to propose soon.”

“Really?” Caroline was pleased. “About damn time. Jesus, if I have to hear Jen complain on one more romantic holiday-”

“You’ll have to wait until September for her to calm down. I get the feeling he’s going to do it when we’ve recessed for the summer.”

“Great, two more months of kvetching.”

“It can’t be that bad. Are you going to break the Yiddish out for this trip? Going full on?”

“I always break out the Yiddish, even when you’re not around. You know that.”

“I’ll teach you some of the more obscure stuff. You can work it into your vernacular while we’re here.”

“Thanks,” Caroline said. “And can you tell Eric to try not to forget important dates?  Jen almost cried when I got flowers on Valentine’s Day and she didn’t.”

Ellen arched an eyebrow. “And who gave you flowers?”

“Take a wild guess.”

Ellen glanced across the aisle again. “Oh, he’s good, isn’t he?”

“Smooth operator,” Caroline agreed.

“You will have to make some time for me this trip,” Ellen said. “And your other responsibilities. I didn’t invite you just so you could hole away in a hotel suite with some horny Republican man, no matter how attractive he is.”

“Sure. Why
did
you invite Jack?”

“He’s got some really solid business contacts in the Middle East. And I’ve been very impressed with what I’ve heard about his performance on the House Committee on Foreign Affairs. I thought he’d earned it.”

“You didn’t invite him just for me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m a pragmatist first and a romantic second. You two can plan your own secret getaways without my help and without the financial assistance of my favorite foundations.” She grinned again. “I invited the Speaker for you. And for the rest of us. He’s got a large personal budget for revelry. Which will probably start as soon as we get to the hotel.”

Caroline decided to be a little obnoxious. “Why’d you invite
me
?”

“You’re an Honorary Jew. Have you forgotten?”

One of their inside jokes. Caroline had gone ahead and made Ellen an Honorary Catholic since she was so good at holding onto unnecessary guilt. And doling it out.

She nudged Ellen’s shoulder. “No. Although I think there are very few people who would find that concept as amusing as we do.”

“I thought it was time you learned about your honorary heritage,” Ellen said innocuously.

“Seriously.”

“I told you on the phone. You’re on Homeland Security. It’s important for you to know how our allies are responding to threats in this part of the world, because it impacts the decisions that we make when it comes to defending ourselves. I also knew you’d want to know the current status of Palestinian-Israeli relations.”

“Those are pretty lines, Ellen, but be honest.”

Ellen smiled again. “I might have also done it because I missed you. I’ve been busy this summer. And your committee participation is a plausible cover story.”

“So it is. Are you going to show me the land of your people?”

“As much as I can. The delegation will be going a few places but I know how you like the non-traditional stuff. I told them to cover as much ancient history as possible.”

“You know me. Someday I’m gonna quit this lousy job and work at the Smithsonian.”