The Senator's Son, #1

by Anna Albo

  The dog reference had been about the shepherd mix Mom discovered cowering in our laundry room. I can still remember her yelling my name across the house. I knew I'd been discovered and reported to her immediately.

  "Why is there a dog in our basement?" she asked.

  I explained how I'd seen it for a couple of weeks wandering the soccer field at my middle school. Kids had been throwing things at it and chasing it away while I'd been secretly sharing my lunch with it. One day a kid threw a rock so hard the dog yelped. It made me so angry that I picked up a rock and hurled it at the kid, hitting him hard in the chest. He cried like the spoiled piece of shit he was. A hush fell over the field where we'd all been playing around, kicking soccer balls. Even the dog had stopped whimpering. All eyes were glued on me.

  "Any of you hurt this dog again, I'll fucking kill you."

  I was thirteen, and that's the day I decided not to care what anyone else thought of me. Apparently, that's also the day I became cool, the “it” kid for more than just my dad being a senator.

  So I told Mom all this. A part of me was frightened that'd she'd kick the dog out, or worse, bring her to the vet to be put to sleep. Instead she took me to the pet store and made me buy a leash and collar from my allowance. We then took the dog to the vet. Other than some worms and a little malnutrition, she was healthy. Mom then made me post signs around the neighborhood in case her owners were looking for her. After two weeks, she and Dad called me into the living room. I sat on the sofa with Mitzy by my side. Yeah, I was stupid and named her.

  "What are we going to do about the dog?" Mom asked.

  "I dunno," I said, my voice quiet and sullen. I'd grown so close to her and the thought of giving her up killed me. She slept with me at night, on the bed, even though she wasn't supposed to. I couldn't let her go.

  "Well, this is what's going to happen. You're going to take her for walks before and after school, you're going to feed her and take her out at night before bed. If she makes any messes, you are going to clean them up. Is that clear?"

  I thought I'd explode with excitement. "Yes, I'll do all that!"

  "And don't bring anymore dogs home," Dad added.

  Mitzy died last summer. The vet said she had bone cancer. I was so grateful to have her for six years. Man, I loved that dog.

  "I'm not sure why any of those things are bad," I said, picking up a pair of thirty-pound dumbbells.

  "I'm just saying that you can't always be the saint. One day someone is going to fuck you over."

  "Thanks for the sound advice."

  "If this girl goes psycho and cuts your throat in the middle of the night and you bleed to death, don't come crying to me."

  "I won't. I'll be dead."

  "Smartass."

  We finished up our workout, and I took a quick shower before meeting up with Genie at the coffee shop in her building. She had secured a table and was tapping furiously on her phone. I sat across from her and she didn't look up.

  "Hey, loser," she said.

  "What's up? Why the ominous text?"

  "Talked to Mom this morning. They are having their Christmas party at the beginning of the month and I thought you should know."

  "You could have put that in a text."

  She put her phone down with a thud and let out a sigh. "Here's the thing; I want to bring Steve and she said no."

  "No surprise there."

  "I thought you could talk to her."

  "Me? No way. Why would I want to jump through that minefield?"

  "Because you're my brother and Mom's favorite."

  "And you're Daddy's little girl."

  "Not when it comes to Steve."

  It was no secret we all just barely tolerated Steve. He was a bolded capital 'C' conservative, but that wasn’t the problem. It was that he enjoyed butting heads with Dad on the rare occasions Genie brought him around. He was also the reason Mom and Dad still thought that Genie lived with me. If they had any idea she was spending every night at his place, they'd blow a gasket. The last time Steve had graced us with his presence, he'd gone on a rant about gun control that nearly sent Dad into orbit.

  "Sorry, Genie, I'm not touching this one."

  She frowned and tried her puppy dog eyes on me. "If you do it, I'll owe you big time. I know you can sway Mom."

  "Maybe, but I can't sway Dad."

  "Okay," she said, folding her hands together, "let's negotiate. What do you want in return?"

  "There's nothing you can offer that will persuade me to stick my neck out for you on this."

  "I'll do all photo-ops with Dad."

  "I'm sure he won't want you in pictures if you're associated with a righty like Steve."

  "I'll do all the campaign work for the next three months."

  Her desperation had hit rock bottom. "It's a losing battle. They won't come around."

  Her face lit up like some imaginary light bulb had gone off. "I'll help you with Emma."

  "Help me? What are you talking about?"

  She leaned in close. "Are we going to play this game? You like her."

  "She's a great girl."

  "No, like her in the biblical sense."

  I grimaced. "Did you just say that?"

  "I think she likes you back. The way she stares at you. She wants you. And the way you look at her. Don't even try to deny it."

  "She's in love with Jake."

  "Ah ha! You admit it," she said, pointing her finger at me. "I knew it! You talk to Mom and Dad and I'll talk to Emma."

  "And that would be a no," I said, laughing and shaking my head.

  "You worried Mom and Dad won't like her? I told you they would."

  "No. What I'm worried about is all this shit you just made up."

  She tapped her fingers on the table and I knew her mind was working overtime. "You're afraid of two things. One, she doesn't like you back, and two, you'll actually stick it out with her which might lead to some kind of serious relationship. Let me give you some sisterly woman advice: she does like you back and you'd be lucky to have her in your life for as long as she can put up with you."

  "Wow, thanks for all the unsolicited advice. Anything else? I've got class in fifteen minutes."

  "Please talk to Mom and Dad." All the kidding around was replaced with sincerity. She needed me.

  "I'll make one try. Don't expect any miracles."

  I got up to leave and she grabbed onto my arm. "I think you should invite Emma to the party. I mean that."

  "I'll see."

  "She's a good one, but I think you already know that."

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  EMMA

  Another week went by and I hadn't told Dad a thing. He still thought Jake and I were living together and neither of us had done anything to clear it up. In fact, I had heard little from Jake other than the occasional text to remind me to cover up our lies. How much longer could we keep this going on? With only a few more weeks until Christmas break, would we just avoid each other? And how would I get home? Dad and Uncle Ron would know something was up if we didn't arrive together. All these thoughts funneled through my head while I waited for Zach. It was Friday and I was looking forward to the weekend.

  Then I spotted him. He was twenty feet away, chatting with Heather again. Every time I saw them, they were laughing, and twice she touched his arm. My first instinct was to walk over there and barge in on their conversation, but then I realized how crazy that would look. It's not like he belonged to me. So I waited, irritated that they were taking so long. What was so interesting? Couldn't they talk later? The longer they talked, the more it picked away at me and then it hit me. Was I jealous? No, not possible. Besides, what was there to be jealous of?

  Finally she waved goodbye, a huge smile imprinted on her face. Zach caught sight of me and jogged over.

  "Ready?" he asked.

  "Yup."

  He didn't say a word about Heather on our walk across the parking lot to his truck.

  "You should just date her," I said. />
  "Date who? Heather?"

  Really? Did he think I was that stupid? "Yes, Heather."

  "Why would I date her?"

  "You talk to her all the time and she likes to touch you. I think she wants to go out with you."

  "Wow, that's a lot to digest. But what if I don't want to date her?"

  "Then you should tell her. You shouldn't lead her on."

  He chuckled. "It's sweet that you're being such an advocate for her."

  "Are you making fun of me?"

  "Not at all. I think it's adorable that you care so much about Heather and her feelings."

  "So you are." I was officially annoyed.

  "To make you feel better, I'll call her tonight and ask her if she wants to marry me."

  I wanted to punch him really hard in the arm. He glanced over at me and laughed.

  "You aren't funny," I said.

  "If you could see your face right now, you'd laugh."

  "No, I wouldn't."

  "Look, if I wanted to date her, I would. If she thinks I'm leading her on, too bad for her."

  "Maybe she doesn't know because you keep talking to her."

  "Then she's pretty dense. When I like a girl, she knows."

  "You might want to tell her," I mumbled.

  "Sure, Miss Lonelyhearts."

  We got back to the apartment to find Genie there. She was watching television and leapt to her feet and followed Zach into the kitchen. He got himself a beer and jumped when he found Genie right behind him.

  "Did you talk to them?" she asked.

  "You only asked me the other day. I'll call tomorrow."

  "Ask what?" I decided to stick my nose into the conversation.

  "It's less than three weeks away. I know you think it's a long time, but it's not. Especially if they say no to you. It doesn't give me a lot of time to work on them."

  "Ask what?"

  "You're setting yourself up for major disappointment. Why do you want him there anyway? He's not good for Dad's image. And you can't even control him," Zach said, peeling the tab on his beer. He tried to sidestep Genie, but she wasn't moving.

  "He promised to be on his best behavior."

  "And the minute someone brings up something he disagrees with? You know he can't help himself."

  Zach successfully got around the Genie blockade but she followed him as he collapsed onto the sofa. He had the remote in hand and tuned into ESPN. The highlights were old, but he didn't care. He took a few swigs of beer and tried to ignore his sister.

  "He knows how important it is for Mom and Dad to like him."

  Zach rolled his eyes. "Fine, delude yourself. I'll talk to them tomorrow."

  "About what?"

  They both looked at me like I'd just materialized. Genie flew from the sofa and grasped onto my hand. "There's this fundraiser my parents have every year. It's also their Christmas party. I want to bring my boyfriend, but his political views are a bit different from Mom and Dad's."

  "A bit different? Try radically different," Zach added.

  "To make a long story short, my parents don't like him all that much, so Zach said he'd ask them if I could bring Steve. In return, I told Zach I'd help him out with something. Right, Zach?"

  She shot Zach a knowing look. Whatever it was, it appeared to be none of my business.

  "And I told Genie that I didn't need any help."

  I had no idea what they were talking about.

  "Anyway, he's going to ask tomorrow. And I’m sure he’ll get the desired results."

  "Genie's a dreamer."

  She turned back to me. "Emma, would you like to come to the party?"

  "Me?" The question took me aback. I was never invited to anything, especially a fancy party.

  "Yes, of course you. You could go as Zach's guest."

  This all felt a bit awkward. Zach hadn't invited me, so how could I go as his guest? "I don't know. I don't have anything to wear."

  "I can loan you something."

  I kept looking over at Zach, but his full attention was on the TV. Had he invited me as his guest, I would have accepted, but Genie asking didn't feel right, like she was making him do it and I didn't want him to feel obligated. "I don't think so." My voice dropped off and sounded pathetic, like I was feeling sorry for myself. I hated that I'd done that. I didn't want Zach thinking I'd guilted him into an invitation.

  "Why not? We'd have lots of fun."

  "You don’t have to invite me," I said to Genie. "Zach should ask someone he really wants to the party."

  "Oh, I see," she said. She hopped over to Zach and slapped him on the arm. "Ask Emma to the party."

  "Hey, what'd you do that for?" he said, massaging the spot.

  "Well, ask her."

  "No, no, Zach, you don't have to," I protested.

  "Yes, he does and he wants to."

  I hated that she put him on the spot and now I was on the spot, too. "I can't go anyway," I said, even though I had no idea when the party was. "I'm sure I'll be going back to Pine Falls if it's end of term, and if it isn't, I'll still be going home. I've got some studying to do, so I'll leave you guys to figure this out."

  I slunk to my room. It was clear Zach wanted someone like Heather on his arm and not someone like me.

  I DECIDED TO DO LAUNDRY the next morning. Zach's door was shut, and I knew he'd been out late with his friends. Genie had stayed for dinner and while we chatted, I was a bit reserved. I didn't intentionally do it, but I was a bit down. I tried to keep up with the conversation, but secretly I wanted him to hurry up and go out with his friends and for Genie to go home so I could hole myself up in my room and have my own personal pity party followed by a little Jane Austen.

  Instead of going back to the apartment, I sat in the laundry room and read a book. Oddly, I found the thumping of the washing machine soothing. Maybe it reminded me of tennis balls hitting the hard court? Other tenants came in and out to use other machines, but my fantasy novel was far more interesting than any of them.

  When I got back to the apartment, Zach was back in front of the television watching sports highlights again. At least these ones were new. He was hunched over, coffee in hand, his hair a little disheveled from sleep.

  I put the laundry basket in my room and went to the kitchen. I was starving.

  "Are you hungry?" I asked.

  "Famished. What are we having?" he asked without diverting his attention.

  "Pancakes?"

  "Love pancakes."

  I made them from scratch and decided to add blueberries. I pulled out a pan and got to work. Ten minutes later we were eating while he read the newspaper. I thought about my day. I'd study the rest of the morning and then meet Helen at the tennis club. I couldn't wait to smash some balls and whip her into shape. The evening consisted of my boring history paper.

  "About my parents' Christmas party," Zach said, putting down the paper, "now that my sister is gone, I'd like to invite you as my guest." Nothing in his tone sounded the least bit sincere. It was like he'd rehearsed it a million times trying to make it sound as natural as possible.

  "I think you should invite someone else."

  "Why?"

  "I don't want you to think you have to ask me. It's okay, my feelings won't be hurt."

  He rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I was going to invite you anyway, but Genie brought it up before I could. I do want you there and I think you'd have a great time."

  "I think you should ask Heather."

  "Oh my God, Heather again? I think you should date Heather. You're so obsessed with her."

  "I still think you like her."

  "Why do you think that?"

  "You're nice to her. You laugh at everything she says. And she's pretty."

  "Based on that criteria, I'd like half the girls on campus. I don't have time to date them all."

  I used my fork to swirl around the remaining maple syrup on my plate. "I don't want to be your mercy date for the evening."

  I looked up and his gaz
e was fixed on my face. "Em, I asked you because I think we'd have a great time together. By the way, I don't do mercy dates, whatever the hell that is."

  "You aren't just saying that, are you?"

  "No, I promise. I really, really, really want you to come."

  I shrugged. "Okay, when is it?"

  "December second. You can stay the night in case it goes late. My parents have a million extra bedrooms. You can go home the next day."

  "All right."

  He smiled. "We'll have a blast.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  EMMA

  The end of term came and except for a few easy exams, I was free of school. My worry now was the Walker Christmas party. Genie had convinced me to spend an extra day at her parents' home before the big party. We'd go Friday night, have a spa day Saturday, and then attend the Walker Christmas party that night before I grabbed my things and took the bus home on Sunday.

  And on the subject of getting home, Dad was highly suspicious. He asked a hundred different ways why I wasn't going home with Jake. That prompted me to send Jake a text, our first correspondence since Thanksgiving, when he’d decided to spend it with Bianca and not return to Pine Falls. We had to come up with something, otherwise all I had left was the truth.

  As I packed the last of my things for the weekend at the Walkers', my phone rang Jake's familiar bullhorn tune. I stared at my screen, Jake's name popping up. My hand shook. Why was I so nervous?

  "Hello," I said.

  "Hi, Emma, I got your text. Instead of texting back and forth, I figured I'd just call. It's quicker that way."

  "Well, you read my text so you see the dilemma."

  "Tell your Dad that I'm staying through my exams and that's why I'm not coming home right away."

  I knew he wanted to rush me off the phone, but I wanted to talk. I loved hearing his voice again even though it had an edge to it, like I'd been bothering him from something really wonderful like a hot steamy bath with horrible Bianca.