“Jonah and Laura will be close. They’ll both be starting new things. I know that Candace wants to involve Laura in some projects she has in mind.”
“So, who am I there to babysit? The great-grandkids, the grandkids or you and Candace?”
Jameson laughed. Pearl was already on board. “Probably me and Candace.”
“Sounds about right.”
“I know it’d be a big move, but…”
“Is this what you really want?” Pearl asked.
“Yes,” Candace answered from the doorway. She stepped inside and smiled at Pearl.
Jameson thought it wise to give the pair a moment alone. “I’m going to go let Coop know dinner is almost ready.”
Candace’s smile served as her thank you.
“Candy…”
“Mom, please; let me say something.”
Pearl nodded.
“I won’t say this with Jameson here. It rattles her more than I want it to.”
“I’m listening.”
“Time isn’t a guarantee. We both know that. The entire last year—every part of it reminded me that you can’t take time for granted. Life is unpredictable. Some mornings, I sit in my morning briefings and my heart flips upside down at the reminders I get that life can change on a dime. I come home after a couple of weeks; I see the kids and they’ve all grown. I listen to Cooper and Spencer; it seems like yesterday we were teaching them their colors. Now? They tell us stories worthy of publishing. It all goes by so fast. I hate missing any of it. This—stepping into this role,” Candace paused and took a breath.
“Of President?”
Candace nodded. “To some people, it probably seems like a dream. For a lot of people, it’s a nightmare…”
“And, for you?”
“It’s real. It has to be real, and you can get lost in it. I can’t get lost in it. I need people who will make certain that I don’t. And, I miss you.”
“I miss you too, Candy.”
“It’s selfish. I know it is. Jameson brought the idea to me, and I want you to accept so badly I feel like a little girl wandering into the kitchen begging you to let me stay with you.”
Pearl smiled. As a child, Candace had often begged to live with Pearl. Life at home could be hard and cold. Candace had felt alone much of the time when she was with her parents. There were similarities now. Candace had Jameson. There would be many times in the coming years when Candace would find herself alone in The White House while Jameson was off making appearances without her. That was the life she’d chosen for them both. That didn’t make it easy. Having a sense of home mattered for everyone. Pearl represented that.
“You’d better find someone to keep my house clean,” Pearl said.
Candace’s eyes filled with tears. “You’ll come?”
“Someone’s got to keep you from living on fortune cookies and wine.”
Candace chuckled through her tears.
Pearl moved to wrap Candace in a hug. “I love you, Candy. All you had to do was ask.”
Candace held onto Pearl.
“You should know, Candy; your grandparents would be proud of you.”
Candace choked on her tears.
Pearl closed her eyes and reveled in her daughter’s embrace. “Your mother and father would be too. I know you don’t think so; they would be, sweetheart. I know I am.”
Jameson wiped a tear from her eye when she stepped into the doorway. Pearl caught her gaze and winked. Jameson smiled and quietly left the room. Thank you, Pearl.
***
January 12th
“Candace, be reasonable.”
God, I hate that word. Nothing annoyed Candace more than when someone on her team told her to be “reasonable.” She was always reasonable. Decisions had to be made and that always left someone unhappy or unsatisfied. She took time to review the arguments and opinions of the people in her orbit, and even of those who seemed to reside in a distant galaxy. At the end of debate and dialogue existed decision. That was her role. Once she reached the destination, she expected those closest to her to get on board. Candace held Doug Mills’ gaze without comment.
“Did you hear everything that the experts said?” he asked.
“I heard them.”
“I’m missing something,” he replied.
You will be if you keep going down this road. “I’m not the president yet, Doug.”
“You will be in less than two weeks.”
“I’m aware.”
“You need to be ready. What if…”
“There are no what ifs, Doug. There are probabilities and possibilities. ‘If’ has no possible conclusion. It’s an open question.”
“That’s semantics.”
“It is not,” Candace said.
Dana cringed in her chair. Candace’s patience with Doug Mills was wearing thin. Candace had fought to bring Mills on during campaign season as an adviser. He was well-versed in the major issues facing the incoming administration both domestically and globally. What he lacked was an understanding of the nuances involved in effective governing. Candace was a master in that realm. She looked beyond glaring concerns and popular ideologies for the subtle challenges and possibilities in every situation. Mills seemed convinced that Candace needed to take on immigration immediately. That she needed a big legislative win, and that failing to do so would lose her points with her base. Dana didn’t need an announcement to know what was coming. Doug Mills was about to be schooled in the Candace Reid style of leadership.
“We aren’t crafting legislation on immigration until the latter part of the year, Doug. If someone in Congress presents something, I will review it and offer my support or opposition. And, I will make my reasons and what I expect clear. As for pushing that legislation—no.”
“You promised to address…”
“And, I will. Immigration isn’t an easy fix.”
“It’s an area that both sides need to appear to be engaged in. That gives you leverage.”
“It does.”
Doug threw up his hands. “You know? Candace, you heard Tate and the Joint Chiefs yesterday. You’ve read The State Department’s recommendations, and Treasury’s. Should I go on? Every department in this government agrees that we need to tackle this problem. It will only fester the longer…”
“Sit down,” Candace said firmly.
“I…”
“Sit down,” Candace repeated. “First, let me make something clear; you are allowed to express your opinion. There is a time for that, and a way for it. Now, is not the time and your current method isn’t working in your favor.”
“I’m only saying.”
“Stop speaking.” Candace paced around her desk and leaned against the front of it. “There are thousands of issues that require my attention—thousands, not hundreds. Immigration is at the top of that list. That is precisely why we are not running out of the gate waving that flag.” She watched as Doug’s jaw began to move and raised her brow in warning. “It’s too important to tackle without taking partners.”
“You have partners.”
“Yes, but not the partners we need. Can we pass something? Probably. Contrary to popular belief, something is not always better than nothing. In fact, something can create far more problems than nothing.”
“You have moderates…”
Candace held up her hand. “Stop. Do you actually think we can solve this issue solely through legislation?”
“No, but that’s…”
“You’ve had your say. It’s my turn,” Candace said. “Why do people come here, Doug?”
“What?”
“Well, you seem to think immigration is a simple fix. It’s a simple question. Why do people want to come to the United States?”
“Economic opportunity.”
“And?” Candace urged.
“And?”
“And, what else?”
“Freedom, prosperity.”
“Mm. Textbook answer, Doug.” Candace moved back behind her des
k and resumed her lecture from her chair. “All true. There are other reasons—family, idealism, to escape persecution or prosecution. But you are correct. The number one reason people want to live here is that they crave opportunity.”
“And?”
“And, we have people here that are struggling to find opportunity.”
“You sound like you’re buying into the Republican narrative,” he commented.
“Do I?”
“Candace,” Grant tried to step into the conversation.
Candace ignored him. “So, you think I am the Democrat’s president?”
“That’s not the point I’m making.”
“What is your point, Doug? I think I’ve been clear about where I stand. I believe we need a common-sense pathway for people already living here to gain legal status, whether that’s citizenship or resident-alien status.”
“And, there are…”
“I said, it’s my turn to speak,” she cautioned.
Doug felt his face flush. He’d watched Candace get frustrated. She seemed to be teetering on the edge of anger.
Dana took a deep breath. Candace rarely lost her temper. The president-elect was close to blowing her top.
Candace steadied her breathing. She still had three meetings to endure before she would be able to take a break. Cassidy was due that evening to spend the weekend working on Candace’s Inaugural Address. She had thought they would engage in a working dinner. That plan had just changed. She needed a break and she needed a friend. If she survived the next few minutes without killing or firing Doug, she would wade through the next three hours looking forward to sharing a bottle of wine and venting to her best friend.
“When I take the Oath of Office, I will promise to serve all the people of this country, not only the ones who colored in a bubble next to my name.”
“I know…”
“Doug,” Candace raised her voice. “Enough. Do I think that immigrants are responsible for the majority of people facing unemployment or underemployment? No. Do people believe that? Some do, and whether you and I like that fact, it matters to those people. Immigration reform has to go hand in hand with economic stimulus. That’s number one. Number two: we need to address foreign policy issues. There are reasons so many people to our south seek to cross our borders. Economic depression is at the core. We have to engage with Mexico, Central and South America on trade and development. We have to create opportunity—real opportunity here and abroad. Why do you think there is a backlash, Doug? You can answer that.”
Dana hid her face and snickered. She loved to watch Candace at work, explaining an issue to an intelligent, educated person as if they were a kindergartner.
Doug fumbled to form a response.
Candace nodded. “There’s a backlash because change is difficult. There is backlash because it is easier to blame someone that differs from you for your hardship than to actively look for solutions. That’s why. Change always feels like it happened overnight. It doesn’t.”
“What does that have to do with this?” Doug asked.
“Everything. We can implement policy. That doesn’t mean the policy will work. I’m not prepared to bite off more than we can chew. Immigration is too important. It directly impacts people’s lives in more ways than you are considering. We have to act thoughtfully and holistically, Doug.”
“It is one of the things people expect from you,” he offered.
“Everyone expects something from me.” Candace chuckled. “And, everyone will be disappointed at some point. We’re not walking into this thinking about another election. That’s not why I ran this campaign.”
“I understand, but your approval ratings will impact the effectiveness of Congress.”
“Yes, they will,” Candace agreed. “Slow and steady. Let’s bank a win on infrastructure and tax reform. Let’s get some needed reform on student debt first.”
“Popular, but,” Doug began.
“It’s not about popularity. It brings people to the table. Let them hash it out, argue, spit, complain, and ultimately let’s get it done. It creates relationships, Doug. Whether you think so or not, that’s how change happens in life. And, politics is just like life. It’s all about people and personality. You have to learn how to bring people together. That’s where we’ll start. That doesn’t mean we won’t be laying the groundwork behind the scenes. We have a narrow majority in the Senate and a narrow minority in the House. ‘A house divided against itself cannot stand.’ Our scenario wasn’t Lincoln’s. His words apply. We cannot tackle this issue as Democrats and Republicans first. We have to address it as citizens.” Candace looked at Dana. “Now, where are we at with Deirdre McDermott? Have we reached out about Agriculture?”
Grant nodded. “I have a call scheduled for you at three.”
“Good. Next?”
***
“JD?”
“Yeah?”
Michelle laughed. “Where were you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Are you okay?”
Jameson sighed lightly. “Yeah.”
Michelle smirked.
“I am,” Jameson said. “I’m not good at this, Shell.”
“What ‘this’ are we talking about?”
“Figuring out what’s best to get involved with.”
Michelle nodded. Jameson was setting her agenda—what areas would she focus on as the president’s wife? “What are you struggling with?” Michelle asked.
“Everything?”
“JD, stop trying so hard.”
“There are a million things that need attention.”
“What do you feel passionate about?”
“All of them?” Jameson groaned.
Michelle laughed. “And, you think you and Mom aren’t alike?”
“What do you mean?”
“This is what she goes through every day, JD. Everything requires her attention at some point. The question she has to answer now is what demands her attention where she can have the most dramatic effect. What do you want to pour your energy into?”
“Aside from working with LGBTQ youth; I probably should say community policing.”
“Not unless that is what your heart and head are telling you.”
Jameson sighed again.
“What is your heart telling you?”
“Adoption,” Jameson said. “There are so many kids like Cooper who never find a home, Shell. They get lost in the system. There has to be a way to improve the system and to encourage people to consider fostering or adopting older kids like Coop.”
Michelle smiled.
“Bad idea?” Jameson asked.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea, JD.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Why don’t you think so?”
“I don’t know, Shell. Everyone knows about my family. It feels like I should be focused on combatting addiction or bridging communities and law enforcement.”
“Cooper is your family.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do, but I don’t think you’re seeing the bigger picture.”
“Which is?” Jameson asked.
“JD, lots of the kids who fall through the system you are talking about end up confronting addiction, at odds with law enforcement. Dealing with kids like Coop who don’t get the same chance, helping them find that chance for a family, that will make a difference in more ways than you are thinking about.”
“But is that enough?”
“What’s enough?” Michelle replied. “And, JD? You don’t have to choose one thing. Concentrate on improving life for kids like Coop, on bringing awareness to adoption. Make that year one’s focus. See where it leads. You can still lend your name and your time to the other things you care about. Stop second-guessing yourself.”
“Thanks, Shell.”
“It’s what I do.”
Jameson laughed. “What about my staff?”
“I’ve been looking at that.”
�
��And?”
“I think you should talk to Mom about bringing Laura onto your team.”
“Laura? Your mom was hoping Laura could help her.”
“I think what Mom is hoping is that Laura can find her feet again, find her confidence to be who she is despite her father—publicly.”
“But she has…”
“Your office and Mom’s will have to coordinate, JD.”
Jameson cringed. It sounded official, clinical—cold. Her office would have to coordinate with Candace’s? “I’m not a contractor, Shell.”
“You kind of are, JD.”
Jameson groaned.
“Mom won’t put it that way; I will. Your agenda reflects on her administration. You two aren’t going to be hashing out schedules over Chinese Take-out.”
“Better not tell your mother that.”
Michelle laughed. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, but I don’t have to like it.”
“No, you don’t. It’s not as awful as it sounds.”
“I don’t know; it sounds pretty awful.”
“That’s one reason I think Laura would be great. She’s got a pulse on all these things.”
“What would she do?”
“Here’s the beauty of your job as First Lesbo.”
“Classy, Shell.”
Michelle grinned. “I’ve been wanting to say that since Mom won,” she confessed.
“It’s a title of distinction,” Jameson replied with a roll of her eyes.
“Actually, it is,” Michelle said. “It’s a big deal, JD.”
“I know.”
“Here’s the fun part; you get to create your office. You can make up a title.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“Huh. What were you thinking?”
“Liaison to Oval Office Operations.”
“Sounds formal.”
Michelle laughed. “It would be. Laura would work directly with you and your staff and coordinate your efforts with Mom’s Personal Secretary and Aide. It would mean she’d interact with you both.”
“Can I do that? Hire my daughter-in-law?”
“She’s not shaping policy. Frankly, I think it’s a better idea for Mom too. It will accomplish what Mom is hoping, give you someone you trust close, and keep tongues from wagging about nepotism.”
CMDRFINALKUone Page 11