Protect and Defend (59 page)

“For which she blames me, I suppose.”

Though she regarded him with a straightforward look, Allie was silent.

“Whatever she thinks of me,” Chad said at last, “this isn’t wart removal. If there’s anything I learned in prison, it’s how precious life is, and how careful we should be about assuming the right to take it.

“I’m as sick for Kyle as you are. But this has to do with
how we value life, and how we—
including
Kyle—take responsibility for what we do. It’s more than an inconvenience, and we don’t fix it by what, to me, involves murdering the innocent victim of her mistake.
Kyle
was once a fetus, you’ll recall.”

Allie’s voice, though level, was faintly accusatory. “She was also wanted.” At least
then
, she did not need to add.

Chad took her hand. “I’m not trying to punish her, believe me. I wish she weren’t pregnant. But either we can care for this child, or find someone who will—God knows there are enough very sad couples out there, who’ve been trying to do for years what Kyle and Eric managed to accomplish in an instant.” He softened his voice. “If there’s any good to come of this, that would be it. Abortion would be just one more ugly, irresponsible act, with us as aiders and abetters. I don’t think
that’s
good for any of us.”

Allie bit her lip. “No, Chad. However you feel, it would be best for our daughter. If I thought an abortion was irresponsible, or that she could withstand pregnancy and motherhood, that might be an option. But she’s on the brink already—to the point of harming herself. To be abandoned, and then pregnant, would damage her even more. And adoption would be traumatic …”

“For
whom
?” Chad retorted. “Is this
all
about Kyle, and nothing else?”

“For me, it has to be.” Her voice was thin now. “She’s the one I love, Chad. She came to this decision after hours of talking with me—
and
Dr. Blevins.

“Kyle understands what this involves. But it also involves the child of a girl who was using drugs and alcohol, and who doesn’t have the strength to go through an adoption. And Dr. Blevins worries that forcing her to have a child would drive a wedge between us which we might
never
fix. I can’t risk that—for her, or us.”

“Dr. Blevins,” Chad answered, “may think that treating a fetus like a wart is good for Kyle’s moral development, and no doubt for mankind in general. But I don’t agree—on either point.”

Allie squared her shoulders. “I know you don’t. But this is a family, not a conclave of the Christian Commitment, and no
one’s treating abortion like ‘wart removal.’ It’s what she wants and needs, and what I as her mother believe is best …”

“So once again, I’m irrelevant. As her father, my highest and best purpose is to stay out of the way.”

“That’s
not
what I’m saying.”

“Allie,” Chad said, “that’s the kind of empty thing someone says when it’s
exactly
what they’re saying. So let’s skip the verbal foreplay, and get to what you plan to do.”

Allie’s face was rigid. “There’s a parental consent law, Chad. I’m planning to support our daughter and protect you. With whatever misgivings, I intend to sign the form …”

“Regardless of what I think.”

“One parent is all it takes, and I’m willing to be that parent.” Allie’s voice became quiet. “Dr. Jacobs is my high school classmate. This will be confidential, and she more than understands our needs.”

Chad stood. “Do you think
that’s
what I’m worried about?”

“No.” Allie’s demeanor was calm now. “But I don’t think it’s fair that you pay the price for my doing this. I accept that you feel differently …”

“That’s very gracious.” Chad felt a fresh burst of anger and frustration. “Others, if they ever find out, won’t be quite as large-spirited in absolving me. But, as I say, for me
that’s
the least of it.”

Allie stood, resting her hands on his arms. “But not for me,” she said quietly. “I know you hurt, and I know she hurts. I don’t want either of you hurt anymore.”

Chad shook his head. “Your friend can hide the form in her files. But kids talk.
Eric
talks—knowing him, he’s probably proud of his achievement. Especially one for which he’ll bear no responsibility at all.”

Allie bent her head. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. There aren’t any guarantees. There’s no guarantee even that abortion is what’s best for her. All I can do is listen to her, make the best judgment I can, and pray it’s right.”

With this, Chad felt her burden, the resistance seeping out of him. “I’m sorry, too.”

“Then do something for me, please. Tell Kyle you still love her.” Allie looked up at him again. “Please, Chad. You may not believe this, but that would mean more to her than anything I can say. Or do.”

Chad studied her. “There’s something I want from you,” he said at last. “And it’s relevant to all of this. Including the fact I’ve become an outsider, so that I don’t trust myself with her, and you don’t either. To the point you drag me off to the sun-room so Kyle doesn’t hear us.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to move to Washington. Both of you.”

Allie gazed at him in open surprise. “Why?”

“It would be a fresh start for Kyle—and for us.” His tone was calm and clear. “You say we’re a family, but I’m a weekend father—I pay the price of family, but I’m not part of it. And there’s no argument, anymore, that staying here is good for her.”

Allie’s brow furrowed. “This is very new, Chad.”

“Not to me. It’s what I should have done, after I was released. Instead, I picked up where I left off—even though life as an itinerant husband wasn’t what I wanted anymore. I’m tired of collaborating in my own uselessness.”

He touched her face and spoke softly. “I’ll work with you, Allie. I want to, very much. But you’ll have to accept me as a father, in more than name.”

Allie leaned her head against his chest, taking a deep breath. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.

“Then go to her. Please.”

Chad did that.

It was not easy, and never quite became so.

After her abortion, Kyle had good days, and others where her depression, as before, seemed close to suicidal. After the move, Allie hewed to her closely—through a new therapist, new private school, and, gradually, a friendship or two, which Allie nurtured with anxiety and care. Slowly, Kyle’s mood seem to lift, and her presence in their home became less like a ticking time bomb, then less volatile altogether. To Chad, this felt like a collective release of breath.

Kyle would never be as close to him as she was to Allie. But what they achieved was a kind of peace, in which Chad, teaching himself an unwonted patience, served the family as a steady presence.

His efforts, Chad reflected, must have helped. For years, Allie still suffered when Kyle went out the door, fearing a
mischance that would drive her back into despair, or even take her life. But Kyle’s bouts with drinking, while they still occurred, became rare, and drugs vanished from her life. For whatever reason, their move to Washington seemed to have worked.

Yet they took nothing for granted. Chad became invested in their new success: although pressured to run for President in the election just won by Kerry Kilcannon, Chad had demurred—it was too soon, he calculated, to separate from his family once again, or place Kyle in the spotlight.

“She knows you feel that,” Allie told him. “And so now she’s sure you love her. She never was, before.”

If this was so, Chad thought, then he had accomplished something. Certainly his daughter had. Though he often wondered what would have happened had Kyle kept her child, all he could know was what had happened once she did not. And now she was in a local college, studying fashion design, and her every small accomplishment was something Chad Palmer carried with him.

In his own life, too, Chad was changed. He remained pro-life, a belief at once too genuine to discard and too necessary to his survival as a Republican. Still, he was quieter about it—out of sensitivity to Kyle and concern for himself, and to a degree, because of the questions Kyle’s experience had planted in his mind. On
this
point, he had no wish for attention. But there was no way to escape it altogether: the Christian Commitment, while it could not fault his voting record, had begun to question his zeal.

Its scrutiny deepened another belief Chad had always held: that the private life of a public figure should be his—or hers—alone. It was that, even more than Kerry Kilcannon’s blandishments, which had secured Chad’s commitment to protect Caroline Masters. And the fact that Caroline acted as Chad wished Kyle could have, and had a daughter of her own, left him with no real choice.

“The things that matter most,” he had said to Allie, “transcend politics.”

But now Masters was the center of a firestorm, and he had to find a way out for them.

“This,” he told Allie, “is where the politics of abortion
meets the politics of investigation. Everyone, not just Caroline Masters, will become fair game.

“Our daughter had an abortion. That makes me a total hypocrite—to pro-choicers because I remain pro-life, to pro-lifers because I acquiesced, to everyone because I’m silent about whatever I may have learned. And God help us if Macdonald Gage finds out.” He shook his head. “I don’t want Kyle to become the next Mary Ann Tierney. She’s too fragile.”

Allie touched his wrist. “The files are confidential,” she said. “How would they ever know?”

“Files get stolen, or leaked.” Seeing her worry, Chad hesitated before adding, “Eric’s still out there, Allie. If he thinks it’s time to tell his story, there’s nothing we can do.”

Allie’s lips parted. “Can you resign the chairmanship?”

This, Chad thought, was a measure of her fears. “Now?” he asked her gently. “Deciding not to run for President was one thing, but resigning really
would
bring the hounds to our door. All I can do is quietly fall in line with my colleagues, and hope that Caroline Masters is gone soon.”

Silent now, Allie kept her hand on his wrist. “It’s too bad,” Chad mused aloud. “I may not agree with Masters, but I like her a great deal. Same with Kerry. More and more, I tend to like the people who don’t believe as I do more than the ones who do. The Christian Commitment has made me wonder— some of those fanatics don’t understand how complex life can be. You’re either good, or bad.”

Allie managed to smile. “You’re good, Chad. Because you
are
complex.”

Looking into her face, Chad felt reality closing in on them. “What I am,” he told her, “is chastened. You hurry along, eyes on the prize, and then something forces you to see how selfish and delusional politics can make you. Yesterday I was the powerful chairman of Judiciary, at the top of my game. And now …”

His voice trailed off.

Beside them, the telephone rang again.

“I
THOUGHT
you’d died,” Kerry said with a trace of humor. “You don’t usually hide out so long.”

“I’ve been busy,” Chad answered, “taking calls from Judge Masters’s new admirers. Both of them. I assume Coletti told you what I think—that you should pull the plug.”

“Because she’s right?”

“She’s
not
right.” Over the telephone, Chad sounded testy. “And it doesn’t matter if she is.”

Kerry felt Lara’s hand, gently resting on his shoulder. “It matters, Chad. It matters to women. It matters to me.”

“With all respect,” Chad countered, “you don’t matter anymore. This is going to be dirty, and you and Masters are going to lose. Unless you back out now.”

Kerry kept his voice even. “Before the Tierney decision, she was the best qualified to be Chief Justice. She still is. You’re asking me to dump her over a single vote …”

“A single disastrous vote. Don’t be a Boy Scout, Mr. President—or a megalomaniac. This isn’t just about
you
, and what you want.” Chad’s tone was clipped. “You signed me on to cover for her. But not through
this
mess.”

With deliberate calm, Kerry asked, “Are you breaking your word?”

There was silence. At length Chad said, “You
owe
me on this one, dammit. If you push it, chances are what’s in the file gets out, and gets worse. Which puts me at more risk.”

Turning, Kerry glanced at Lara; she watched him with eyebrows raised, mirroring his concern. “Maybe so,” he told Chad, “but I can’t explain that to the American public—or to Gage. All they’d know is that I dumped Judge Masters.”

“Then that’s the price of honor …”

“The price of honor,” Kerry snapped, “is keeping your word when it’s hard. Or do you want to expose the daughter yourself.”

Chad emitted a harsh, cynical laugh. “You know I can’t— not without people wondering
when
I first found out. And I know you wouldn’t mind that much if I did oppose her. So cut the crap, Mr. President …”

“You too, pal. Your party is losing women, and you want to be President. However you play abortion, you don’t want to be the symbol of an antichoice crusade. Not if you want
my
job.”

“I do,” Chad shot back. “And so does Gage.”

“Gage,” Kerry said with scorn, “is mortgaged to the far right, who’ve got a fucking death wish. If you want to compete for votes in
that
fever swamp, be my guest. I’ll get reelected without ever leaving home.”

There was another silence, briefer now. “Just what,” Chad inquired in an unimpressed tone, “do you propose to do?”

They were in a war of nerves, Kerry knew; if Chad decided to oppose Caroline with all of his considerable force, there was no way to save her, and little point in trying. “I propose to keep her,” Kerry said evenly. “And let you Republicans define yourselves …”

“You’d create a train wreck? Just for the hell of it? I don’t think so. Or you wouldn’t have already called me three times.”

Kerry felt his chest tighten. Softly, he said, “I want to win, Chad. I want Masters on the Court. And I’ll do whatever I need to to put her there.”

Listening, Chad was appalled. If Kerry waged a war, not just a pro forma effort, there might be no containing the damage.