Fatherless: A Novel (3 page)

“Ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have the great honor—”

“Please, Nicole,” Franklin interrupted in self-effacing deference, “don’t let me disrupt the agenda. Carry on with what you
were doing, we’ll just take a seat in the back and—”

“Don’t be silly, Senator Franklin,” she objected. “We can come back to this presentation later. Please, do us the honor of
sharing a few words.”

Feigning reluctance, the senator bowed in assent before filling the space Kyle Journeyman had occupied moments earlier. The
consultant stepped backward, timidly extending his arm to shake hands with the potential future president, the man donors
had been urging to form an exploratory committee because they hoped Franklin’s popularity among young and minority voters
might pull the party out of political quicksand. Few believed they could retain the White House without Franklin on top of
the ticket.

“Thank you, Nicole, everyone,” the senator began. “I apologize for the intrusion. But when I heard you would receive a briefing
similar to the one I received last week I wanted to join your gathering as a fly on the wall to explore how we might lead
this nation back toward prosperity.” Kevin was impressed. With just two sentences Franklin had managed to lift the summit
mood from gloomy despair to determined optimism. He reminded Kevin of the legendarily upbeat Ronald Reagan, who had ridden
into town to rouse a disheartened people. Only this time the nation’s problems were more severe and the economic hole much
deeper.

“I understand you’ve seen the dismal demographic forecast. Clearly, the days of head-in-the-sand denial are behind us. In
just a few weeks this information will be released and the public will know that we face very serious challenges. But they
are challenges I’m convinced we can meet.” Franklin paused, as if expecting a crowd to cheer in adoring approval.

Kevin recalled a quotation from someone.
He who brings hope
brings leadership
.

“I stopped by today to tell you of my plan to form a task force that will partner with innovative leaders from both the private
and public sectors to propose bold new strategies for tackling the deficit.” The senator looked directly at Kevin, nodding
like a teacher acknowledging the presence of a favorite student. Kevin felt a knot in his gut. Troy had said Franklin planned
to form a fiscal austerity coalition. He had said it would include promising young House and Senate leaders. “Mark my words,
Kevin,” he had predicted. “Franklin will need someone from the Western States Alliance. He wants a dream team, a proving ground
for potential cabinet appointments.”

Kevin returned the senator’s nod, hoping Nicole Florea hadn’t noticed their silent exchange. Her seething told him she had.

He then sent a quick message to Troy.

Seconds later, Troy’s silent reply appeared on the tablet.

Julia reached
toward the jarring noise, grateful for rescue from a restless sleep. The dream had held her captive until the rattling clatter
of a vintage alarm clock announced her parole. Hitting
OFF
instead of the snooze button, she pulled back the sheets, which were slightly damp from perspiration and tears, and slid
out of bed. Pulling her knees against a shivering body, Julia grabbed the pen and pad sitting on the nightstand. She had been
able to remember scant details of the countless earlier dreams beyond a paralyzing dread mixed with a deep, lingering sorrow.
She hurriedly added to her growing list of words before the murky images could evaporate again.

She only saw his silhouette, but the man’s figure seemed what she had always imagined her father might be—tall, strong, and
kind. Of course, the shadow could have just as easily been cast by a crazed killer stalking his next victim.

No. Julia somehow knew that he posed no threat.

But if he wasn’t dangerous, why so much fear? If kind, why the intense anger?

The dream’s vapor dissipated mid-thought. Her weary mind reached for more as Julia stared at the pad. Several minutes passed.
Nothing came.

Exhaling deeply, she pulled her legs tighter, offering herself a comfort Jonathan might have given had he accepted her invitation
to spend the night.

Oh well. It’s a start.

Julia gave herself the same pep talk on those rare days when writer’s block put her behind schedule. She hoped the same pattern
of determination and optimism that had brought journalistic honors would get her past this nocturnal crisis.

Ever since her sophomore English teacher invited Julia to blog for the high school opinion journal, words had been her driving
passion. They had also been her therapist, helping her sort through private pain and troubling questions. Maria called writing
Julia’s defense mechanism, a harmless but secretly annoying dig at her big sister’s driven personality.

Julia and Maria shared a house on the outskirts of Denver, only a few miles from the suburban high school they had attended
one grade apart. To this day they didn’t agree on who had cast the bigger shadow. Julia had graduated valedictorian and received
countless scholarship offers from top universities. But Maria had received eleven invitations to the senior prom.

Things hadn’t changed much. Despite declining readership, Julia remained a fixture among the journalistic elite. Maria still
enjoyed the company of immature guys, ensnaring Julia in several unwelcome double dates.

Happily, Jonathan seemed different from Maria’s other friends. He held a steady job, read the right books, and drank the best
wine. He talked about culture and politics instead of video games, and she found herself strongly attracted to his distinguished
demeanor. That’s why she’d done something out of character by inviting him to the house. Actually, Maria had made the invitation
with her usual tact. “I bet Julia would love to show you her Pulitzer medal. It hangs on the wall in her bedroom.” This time,
rather than laugh off the suggestion and make excuses about a pressing deadline or an early interview, Julia hesitated—hoping
for a slight tug on the line. When Jonathan remained silent, she took a risk.

“What do you say? Can I interest you in a nightcap?”

Now, standing alone in front of her bathroom mirror, Julia felt foolish. She glanced at the cocktail dress and one-inch heels
lying on the floor where she’d left them eight hours earlier. Maybe Maria was right.

“Why don’t you change outfits?” she had asked. “Guys don’t want pretty sophistication. They want alluring fun!”

Alluring and fun seemed to work for Maria with her endless variety of hairstyles, sassy outfits that filled two closets, and
a magnetic, perky bounce that made her impossible to snub. Julia, by contrast, wore her jet-black hair at shoulder length
and stylishly cut, just as in college. Her tailored wardrobe embodied knee-length elegance rather than slit-skirt seduction.
Friends called her stunningly beautiful, even slightly intimidating. So she wondered why Jonathan found her so easy to resist.

By the time Julia entered the kitchen Maria was already rushing to start her day.

“You look tired. Another dream?” One sight of Julia prompted genuine concern despite the distraction of trying to scrape off
the slightly charred edges of Jared’s bagel.

“Same as before.”

“Did you make an appointment with Dr. Moreland like I told you to?”

“Eleven today.”

“Finally! You’ll like her.”

“I’m fine.”

Jared entered the room, frantically searching for his tablet. Both sisters silently pointed him toward a table beside the
living room sofa.

Maria resumed the conversation. “I think Jonathan really liked you. I bet he spent all night thinking about what might have
been.” A mischievous smile.

“Not funny.”

“He had all the symptoms.”

“All guys have symptoms around you.” Julia regretted the words immediately.

Maria’s jaw dropped. “You don’t think—” She stopped herself. “You can’t blame me this time. I barely talked to him all night.
I even set you up at the net for an easy spike, for heaven’s sake!”

“You could have worn something a bit less”—Julia reached for the right words—“
fuel-on-the-fire
.”

“Why didn’t you wear something less
call-for-an-appointment
?”

A brief silence told both to retreat.

“Can we please just change the subject?” asked Julia. “What do you have going today?”

Lowering both hands from her hips, Maria resumed her chaotic preparation process. “Jared’s teacher wants to meet with me after
work. Something about a few missing assignments.” Maria glanced around the kitchen before her eyes landed on the stack of
napkins. “I think it’s just an excuse to see me again. I don’t mind. He’s kind of cute.”

Julia rolled her eyes in mock disgust, prompting another playful grin from Maria.

“Any chance you can make sure Jared gets started on his homework tonight? I’ll need to head to the school right from work.”

“That’s fine,” Julia said while settling in at the table, placing her empty cereal bowl beside a digital pad awaiting her
attention.

Julia’s eyes settled on the
YOUR MESSAGES
section of her tablet.

Maria’s verdict overturned. Unlike Julia, Jonathan seemed to have slept just fine.

Pouring Fiber Crunch and fat-free milk into her bowl, Julia continued her digital ramp-up routine, scanning the next message.

Julia waved out of her messages to review the day’s headlines.

• White House responds to census data 
  
• Rare auto accident prompts safety study 
  
• Home vacancy rates rise again 
  
• Spring fashions will turn heads 
  
• Franklin proposes further cuts 
  

Maria and Jared were putting on their coats while juggling bagel-filled napkins by the time Julia clicked
MORE
on the first headline.

“We’re off!” came a brief interruption. “See you tonight.”

“OK. Have a good day,” Julia said, already midway through the lead story in search of the golden nuggets Paul would want to
discuss. She had trained herself to quickly spot key phrases that told the larger story.

Julia dragged the
SAVE COPY
icon into her
PENDING COLUMNS
folder before scanning the other headlines. Skipping past the auto-accident and home-vacancy stories, she glanced at the
pictures embedded in the fashion story. Too risqué for her. She forwarded the link to Maria before raising another spoonful
of now-soggy cereal. Spotting the Franklin story, she expected nothing useful, since budget battles made big news, but boring
columns.

“Another daft attack on scientific progress,” she mused while saving the link. “Mindless Neanderthal!”

Backing out of the news app, Julia noticed two new messages.

She smiled at Maria’s reminder before feeling her stomach tense at the note from Angie.

I asked Jared to send Angie a thank-you text last week
, she recalled.
That would have ended the dialogue until his next birthday
.

Instead, Julia felt obligated to send a response, which required searching her contact history to retrieve the name of Angie
and Kevin’s latest baby. She remembered signing a congratulations note Maria had put in front of her several months earlier,
but couldn’t recall the kid’s sex or name to save her life.

Moments later, Julia had the tidbit of information needed to draft a quick reply.

She reached for the send now button, but paused, choosing instead to schedule delivery for later in the evening. No reason
to let Angie know she might be available to chat.

Noticing the time, Julia grabbed her bowl and moved toward the sink. She felt a tad light-headed. The restless nights were
taking a toll. Steadying herself for a moment, she considered postponing the counseling appointment so she could lie down
on the sofa. But she knew it wouldn’t help. Dreams don’t sleep.

Angie Tolbert
froze in mid-stride, her body stiffening as she watched the plastic Minnie Mouse cup fly downward toward the kitchen floor.
There was nothing she could do. The dancing sequence of bounces would wake the baby, who had finally fallen asleep a mere
thirty minutes earlier.

She had managed to tiptoe through the breakfast routine, successfully shushing five-year-old Tommy and two-year-old Joy through
their meal in hopes of settling them in front of a video while she took a much-needed nap. But then it happened. Joy stretched
out her chubby little arm in an unspoken request for more apple juice. Always in tune with his sister’s needs, Tommy decided
to lend a hand. Something went wrong in the handoff, launching Minnie from the side of the counter into an impressive acrobatic
spin.

After the sixth noisy hop the cup decided to settle itself against the far cabinet, ushering in eight seconds of hope-filled
silence. Then Angie’s heart sank as she heard the same erupting cry that had kept her awake for seven of the past nine hours.

“Sorry, Mommy.” Tommy took the rap. “It was an accident.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Angie said. “Thank you for trying to help your sister.”

Angie was so ready for Kevin to get home, desperate for a good night’s rest. Proud as she was of his growing influence in
the Western State Alliance, she found herself resenting the additional travel required.

Kevin enjoys adult conversations over steak while I eat boxed mac and cheese with the kids. He gets a wake-up call from a
friendly hotel service. I never get to sleep due to endless screaming from a fussy baby…
She caught herself in mid-complaint. Nothing good would come from another pity party.

While placing the cup in the sink Angie noticed that both Tommy and Joy had climbed down from their counter stools. Joy trailed
her brother as they ascended the staircase on a quest to rescue their baby sister from solitary confinement.

As Joy reached the tenth step she giggled at the sound of Angie’s approach from behind. Both knew what would happen next.

“I’m gonna get you!” came Mommy’s threatening promise. “You better hurry!”

As usual, Joy did the opposite. She held still, eagerly anticipating Angie’s scooping her up and burying her face in the space
between Joy’s pudgy cheek and lower neck.

Joy squealed with delight at each nibbling attack. Angie let herself enjoy a somewhat delirious laugh.

As they approached the nursery, Angie noticed the baby’s cry calming into a whimper, then a contented coo. Mysteriously, Tommy’s
presence had soothed little Leah’s bouncing-cup-induced trauma. She stood in the doorway and quietly watched as big brother gently caressed baby sister’s cheek with the back of
his hand, while baby sister curled her tiny fist around big brother’s index finger.

The phone rang.

“I only know one person who would call us at nine thirty in the morning!” Angie exclaimed. “I bet it’s your daddy!”

Midway down the stairs Angie realized her mistake as she heard the digital butler announce, “Call from Dr. Martha Chapman,
pediatrician.”

“Oh no!”

Between the chaos of life without Kevin and the exhaustion of sleepless nights, Angie had completely forgotten about the nine
a.m. appointment. Not good, considering the doctor’s long scheduling backlog.

“Ms. Tolbert?” came the office assistant’s voice.

“I’m so sorry,” Angie began. “I bet you called to say I missed Leah’s appointment.”

“No, ma’am. Your appointment is tomorrow.”

Angie sighed in relief.

“I was actually calling to confirm whether you and Mr. Tolbert can attend together.”

Angie felt a rush of fear. No pediatrician had ever asked whether Kevin could join a child’s appointment before.

“My husband will be out of town tomorrow. But I’ll be—”

“Ms. Tolbert,” the nameless voice interrupted. “Dr. Chapman thinks it would be best if you both attend.”

“Is something wrong with Leah?”

“I can’t discuss particulars over the phone, Ms. Tolbert.”

“
Mrs.
Tolbert,” Angie corrected.

“Yes, ma’am. Dr. Chapman just wants to walk you through the results of the baby’s genome sequencing.”

“We received summaries for both Tommy and Joy in our message box. Why can’t you do the same with Leah’s results?”

“When parents opt out of prescreening the doctor is required—”

“I know what the law requires.” Angie surprised herself with her intensity. “We’ve expected a genetic sequence overview. But
why do we need a face-to-face appointment? Is something wrong with our daughter?”

Several possibilities raced through her mind.

Asthma?

Diabetes?

“Please, can you tell me anything?” Angie pleaded.

Leukemia?

Bone cancer?

“Mrs. Tolbert, when is the soonest the doctor can meet with you and Mr. Tolbert together?”