Fatherless: A Novel (33 page)

Julia couldn’t
recall a more chaotic two weeks. Even before she could absorb accolades from her weekend feature the floodgates flew open,
bringing one big assignment after the next to her desk. The new owners of RAP clearly liked her work. But they also needed
all hands on deck to handle the wildfire of coverage required after the congressional budget office released revised projections.
A Monday-evening news cycle fed a Tuesday-morning market crash. Every sector of the economy known to Wall Street turned dramatically downward for six consecutive sessions.
Neither the president’s defensive fireside chat nor Senator Franklin’s perfectly timed press conference had managed to quell
the panic.

Despite the pervasive alarm, however, Julia felt grateful for the whirlwind of activity. It had kept her too busy to think
about Angie. It also gave her a convenient excuse to decline Paul Daugherty’s repeated requests to meet. The last thing she
wanted to do was talk to the man who, despite salvaging her career, had lost her respect.

But she couldn’t avoid him forever, and conflicts should be resolved in person. So Julia accepted Paul’s offer to take a seat
across from his desk, settling in for what would likely be a weak apology buried somewhere within his self-satisfied boasting.

“We’re back on top, Jewel,” Paul began after insisting Julia accept his toast to her success. “Just yesterday Bobbie mentioned
you, said you were doing stellar work!”

“Bobbie?” she asked.

“Roberta Grantwood. You know, the new editor in chief.”

“You call her Bobbie?”

“Well, not to her face.
Ms. Grantwood
to her face. But I like the sound of Bobbie. More, I don’t know, editor in chief–sounding.”

Julia shifted in her chair while pretending to sip her drink.

“Come on, love,” Paul said to fill the silence. “Don’t tell me you’re still upset about the breeder story. Look, I’m sorry,
OK? But I did what had to be done.”

She crossed her legs without a word.

“How can you be mad when what I did got you back on top? You and Monica both.”

“I see it didn’t do you any harm either.” Julia perused the new office fixtures.

“What can I say? I struck while the iron was hot and everybody won.”

The comment reminded Julia of why she had come. “Everybody?”

“Don’t worry about Tolbert,” Paul said. “He’s a big boy. He’ll move on. They always do. You’ve got bigger issues to consider.”

She raised a single, curious eyebrow.

“I should say, bigger opportunities to weigh,” he continued. “I’ve been asked to assign you the next big weekend feature.
Another brewing scandal, this one much juicier than the last.”

Her eyes sank.

“Do you remember the lawsuit story I tossed you before the breeder thing?”

Julia sat up at the mention.

“The one about the woman who died trying to stop her debit kid’s transition,” he added.

Julia winced, taking offense for a face she couldn’t forget.

“Anyway. Rumor has it Franklin tried to intervene in the wrongful death case against NEXT Inc. Looks like he has financial
connections of some sort. How would you like to obliterate the reputation of that budget-slashing Nazi before he becomes the
most powerful man in the world? Monica’s champing at the bit for this one. But I told Bobbie you’re the best gal for the job.”

“I’m a journalist, Paul,” she protested. “Not a tabloid hack.”

He cursed. “I know that, Jewel. But Bobbie loved the way you killed that bright spots nonsense before it saw daylight. She
just wants you to aim a bit higher this time.”

“Higher than what?”

“Higher than a freshman congressman fall guy.”

“Fall guy?”

Paul covered his mouth like a boy realizing he had said too much.

“What do you mean by fall guy?” Julia demanded.

“Forget it.”

“Paul,” she pushed. “Tell me what you meant when you said Kevin Tolbert was a fall guy.”

Silence.

“The pictures you sent of Kevin and that girl. How did you get them?”

He rose from his chair and moved past Julia to close the door. He turned toward her, lowering his voice.

“You didn’t hear this from me. Deal?”

“Spit it out, Paul!” she said angrily.

“OK. OK.” Open palms raised to block her line of fire. “Those pictures were staged.”

“What? How? By whom?”

“Not sure. I think Franklin’s office. You know, just in case things turned south with Tolbert.”

“But they didn’t turn south, at least they hadn’t when the story broke.”

“I know. But Monica used her magic to obtain copies. Don’t ask me how.” He returned to his seat. “Anyway, once they were in
my possession I felt we owed it to the public to release them.”

“But you said they were staged.”

“I know that now. I didn’t then. I made a judgment call with the information available at the time. So sue me.”

“I’d rather kill you!” Julia confessed. “Do you have any idea…?”

She stopped short. It was futile to take the conversation any further.

“Never mind,” she said calmly, placing her glass on the edge of his desk while rising to her feet.

“Come on, Jewel,” he pleaded. “Don’t be like that. No harm, no foul. Everything worked out great. Besides, you can write your
own ticket now. You want to do more features? You got it. Prefer sticking with the weekly column gig? All yours. Whatever
you want.”

She turned toward the door.

“You know what they say, Jewel,” Paul continued. “The end justifies the means. You might have lost your job if I hadn’t pulled
the trigger.”

Julia looked back at Paul deliberately and spoke three frighteningly satisfying words. “Paul. I quit.”

On her
ninth attempt Angie’s call again rolled to Kevin’s voice mail. She felt her heart thumping in her temples, desperate to speak
to her exiled companion, lover, partner, and heartbroken friend. Why hadn’t she believed him? How could she have let him endure
the humiliation of the past few weeks alone? Just when he needed her most she had trusted him least. Her regret deepened with
each torturous ring.

“Why doesn’t he answer?” she asked aloud, already knowing why. Angie had ignored Kevin’s calls every day since he had started
bunking with Troy after her emotional tirade. She hadn’t wanted to hear another implausible explanation. She even ignored
Troy’s appeal to give Kevin a chance, to listen to his side of the story.

Kevin had left ten voice messages the day after their argument, which had gradually dwindled to one on day seven. It had been
forty-eight hours since his last attempt. Apparently he was understandably convinced that Angie had meant the brutal words
that now left a bitter residue in her mouth.

She had been strong.

She had been brave.

But she had been wrong.

“Hi, beautiful. Sorry, I’m tied up. Can’t wait to talk to you.”

Angie took some comfort in the fact that Kevin hadn’t changed her unique greeting. A greeting she no longer felt worthy to
receive.

“Hi, darling. I’m so, so sorry…” She couldn’t continue, a deep sob overpowering her rehearsed script. “Please, please call
me,” she finally managed.

She looked back at the message from Julia.

Julia had shared everything she knew over the phone. A colleague named Monica Garcia had given the pictures to Julia’s editor.
It was true that the girl in the photos had offered herself to Kevin. But Kevin had refused, end of story. The girl had had
the pictures taken to use in the event that Kevin ever became a major player. As it turned out, she had amassed a stockpile
of “evidence” on a wide range of Washington players as part of a sleazy small business selling dirt to tabloids and, when
possible, major news outlets. Franklin’s office had dug into the scam after reading Julia’s story and dismissed the aide.

“What about the damage to Kevin’s reputation?” Angie had asked.

“RAP will print a retraction next weekend,” Julia explained. “But I’m afraid they’ve already left a stain that will be hard
to get out.”

Angie understood. Trisha Sayers had been asked to present the austerity plan in Kevin’s stead. She barely mentioned the bright
spots idea, holding her nose the entire time. What Kevin had intended as a game-changing strategy for economic growth got
reduced to an embarrassing footnote in Franklin’s larger strategy.

Any hope Kevin had had of influencing the growing controversy over the president’s Youth Initiative seemed dead. Religious
extremists weren’t welcome on the national stage.

How hard the past few weeks must have been for a man who had known only success. A man everyone had once loved and admired.
She could see the defeat in his eyes while watching Kevin on the television screen missing curve balls pitched by an invading
press corps. Not one asked about his vision or dreams for America’s future. They only wanted to know how his wife had reacted
to the photos.

Angie thought what Kevin would never say.
She reacted like a naïve fool
!

Giving up efforts to call Kevin’s phone, Angie decided to endure the embarrassment of again trying his office. She would gladly
beg an acne-faced aide to make her husband take the call if it meant she could speak to the love of her life.

A voice answered after two rings.

“Troy?”
What a relief
! “I’m so glad I got you. Let me talk to Kevin!”

“Hi, Angie.” He sounded surprised. “He didn’t come into the office today. Third day in a row. He was still sleeping when I
left the apartment.”

“I’m going there now.” She hung up, ignoring whatever else Troy was trying to say.

Five minutes later the kids sat strapped into three car seats, still wearing their pajamas. As the garage door rose she shifted
into reverse and eased backward without bothering to look behind. That’s when she heard the thud of Kevin’s signature slap.
Peering through the rearview mirror she saw the torso of a man holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers pretending the pain
of a hit-and-run impact.

The flowers fell to the ground as Angie leaped into her husband’s arms. He pulled her body tight as their lips locked stubbornly
together.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

They heard Tommy yelling from the car, coercing their lips into mirrored smiles.

“You’re home!”

“Hi, buddy,” Kevin managed between kisses drenched in Angie’s relieved tears.

Angie accepted Kevin’s offer to fix the family a gourmet lunch of peanut-butter-and-banana sandwiches. They both relished
a ritual each had feared lost forever.

“Thank you for the food,” Tommy led with clasped fingers.

“Tankoo da ood,” Joy repeated.

“Thank you for baby Weah.”

“Tankoo aby eah.”

“And thank you for Daddy,” he added. “Amen.”

“Tankoo Daddy, men.”

After eating they put the kids down for an afternoon nap, then made love in the shower before curling up in bed together,
where Angie pressed herself as close as possible to the man she had hurt so much.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you.” He kissed the top of her head. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have believed you.”

“I should have told you about that girl’s visit to the house.”

“You did tell me. You said she stopped by with documents from Franklin’s office.”

“But I didn’t say she made a pass. I should have told you that.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe because it embarrassed me. Even scared me a little.”

“Scared you?”

“It probably doesn’t make sense. But when that girl began coming onto me I felt like I had been grazed by a hunter’s rifle
shot. Like I had survived a close call.”

“Were you tempted?” Angie asked. “Wait, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

They held each other without speaking for a moment.

“Were you?”

Kevin shifted his body to look Angie in the eyes.

“No, I wasn’t tempted,” he assured her. “But I was flattered. That’s what scared me.”

She nestled herself back into his embrace. “I think I understand. She’s a very attractive woman. And you’re only a man.”

“It seems like political influence includes decadent privileges as part of the package. Like it’s expected. Like it’s no big
deal.” He paused and gently inched her chin upward so their eyes could meet. “To be honest, I’m kind of glad to know people
take pictures like that.”

“Glad? You can’t be serious.”

“There’s nothing like knowing you’ll likely get caught to keep you from doing something stupid.”

She sat up and leaned against the pillow. “But it makes me so mad that they did this to you. I mean, you did nothing wrong
and they destroyed your reputation while who knows who in this town does whatever they please without a scratch!”

“Don’t worry about my reputation. As long as you know the truth, I’m a happy man.”

She smiled back, then kissed his hand.

“I’ll ask Troy to contact some friends in various news agencies to pressure RAP into a full apology.”

“Julia said they would print a retraction next week.”

“We’ll try to get more than the usual buried correction,” Kevin said expectantly. “Hey, where’s your mom? I assume she came.”

“Went back to Colorado yesterday. Dad insisted. He wanted the kids and me to join her.”

“I bet he wants to castrate me!”

She laughed, then hugged Kevin again. “I’m sorry.”

“You said that already.”

A brief, wonderful silence.

“What do you think will happen now?”

“It’ll all blow over in a few weeks. And if it doesn’t, God has something else in store for us to do.” He exhaled deeply,
a man finally back home after a long exile.

Angie decided her moment had arrived.

“Speaking of what God has in store for us,” she began. “I have some news.”

He scooted up to join her in a pillow-propped position. “What kind of news?”

Disquiet reclaimed her expression. “Do you remember the flu bug I felt a few weeks back?”

He did.

“I never told you what the doctor said.”

“Is something wrong?” he asked anxiously.

“No. Well, not exactly wrong. But he was a bit concerned about potential complications so he asked me to come back into the
office next week.”

He waited for more.

“Anyway, it looks like—no, not
it looks like
—I’m definitely pregnant.”

She braced herself for Kevin’s reaction, for the slight hesitation that never came.

“Pregnant?” he yelled.

“Shhh! You’ll wake the…”

His pressing lips silenced hers before she could finish the warning.

“We’re gonna have another baby,” he said before planting his lips back onto hers. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I got a bit distracted by the possible end of our marriage,” she snickered at the remark and the relief.

Kevin had already begun unwrapping the towel from Angie’s body. His motions slowed as he deliberately positioned his face
over her still-flat abdomen, then gently kissed his nameless child’s nurturing cocoon.

It was without question the sweetest kiss she had ever received. But it also tickled, prompting a giggle of delight.

Kevin’s need to know trumped his reluctance to interrupt the beautiful sound. “What complications?”

She didn’t understand.

“You said you had an appointment next week, that the doctor was concerned about complications.”

She hesitated.

“Please, babe, just tell me what’s wrong.”

“Probably nothing,” she replied reassuringly. “He just thinks it would be a good idea to run a genetic profile this time.
You know, in light of Leah.”

“Why?”

She didn’t answer, “
Just in case
” no longer seeming like a good enough reason.

“No,” he said decisively.

“You don’t want to know.”

“No. I don’t.”

Nothing else needed to be said. They just hugged resolutely, thawing Angie’s impasse in grateful release.

The door flew open, prompting Kevin to hurriedly cover his naked bride with the blanket.

“Hi guys!” he said to Tommy and Joy as they rushed toward the bed. “Jump up here and give your mommy a big smooch. She’s gonna
give us another baby!”